#i was feeling nostalgic and booted up a new game

[directdogman]

Hi, I hope you're having a decent day! I'm sorry if this is an invasive set of questions - feel free not to answer - but do you still actively like DSaF as your own creation, or is it more of a "it was fun while it lasted but i outgrew it and it's for the best to leave it behind" kind of project? Do you ever regret making the games? If you knew they would get so popular, is there anything you would have changed about them? Is there anywhere I could read more of your writing.

It fluctuates a bit. These last couple of years, I've really just been sorta nostalgic for it. I've seen a lot of people discuss those games being a source of comfort during bad times in their lives, people talking about how much the characters mean to them and it's hard not to smile when you see that.

It's a funny thing for close friends of yours to see people WITH fanmade DSaF merch out in the wild, or to watch a random youtube video and being hit with a DSaF reference outta nowhere. It happens from time to time, even today. On a few occasions, I've even had a person reference my work to me in real life and not realize who they were talking to, believe it or not. It's really fun to play dumb and get someone to explain your work to you like you don't know what it is.

I certainly didn't think any of that would happen when I first made the series, or even during development. I think the normal assumption would be to look at DSaF as it exists now and assume its release was a peak for it, but believe it or not, the official discord only had 30 people in it shortly before 3 dropped! The archive listing of the series (reposted to a single page after the series ended) is now sitting at over 1.1 MILLION downloads.

People kinda assume the true heyday of something is when it's new, when it's fresh and novel. For instance, some people look back at when FNaF itself was new and see that time as its peak because it had a lot of internet cultural relevance as big new indie thing on the block. But, raw numbers don't lie. The series has been continually growing since its conception and that growth has similarly bled over to its fan projects. This explains why DSaF, despite not having a new series release in almost 6 years, seems to be inexplicably growing.

Just recently, I saw someone post footage of a scene from DSaF 2 on Twitter, which got over 16k likes. People praised its writing and largely celebrated the scene. The ironic thing about that particular scene is that I remembered being unsure if it was good or not, so I showed it off in one of the FNaF community hubs. The response was broadly lukewarm to negative. Now, it's held up as one of the best scenes in those games. That's kind of the point I'm trying to make, my thoughts on the series have certainly changed with everyone's else with years of hindsight.

Heh. I'm not sure if I've talked about this in a long time, but y'know, the very first scene I implemented in-game was actually the very first Phone Guy scene in DSaF 1, more or less exactly how it appears in-game today. This was before I'd even written the bulk of the game. I was pretty unfamiliar with visual novels as a whole, pretty unsure if something like this would be palatable to a fandom that was really just used to sit 'n' survive stuff that were far more gameplay than text. I mean, there wasn't any FNaF fangames really LIKE DSaF before that point. Closest was FNaFb, a jokey turn based RPG made in the same engine.

The engine I made the game in is also not exactly fit for VNs out of the box either, and I wasn't 100% sure the idea would actually work. But, the very first time I added the image of the prize corner, Phone Guy, the audio of that iconic cheesy stock track and booted up a test screen, I had a little moment where I said "Oh. I think I'm onto something interesting here." I kinda remembering instantly realizing in that single moment how much potential the idea had. Over 8 years later, I still remember that moment like it was yesterday.

I think lately, that's the sort of stuff I think of when I see people coming to me and asking about the series. Yes, it's really rough around the edges, yes, there's jokes that've aged poorly. But, it is a source of comfort for people and entertains tens of thousands of people each month. And that's gotta count for something, right?

[andreabandrea]

I absolutely don't mean this in a bad way, but I think a lot about how Pokemon is a power fantasy for kids. And I know this is obvious because it's a game for children, but let me ramble.

Think about it: you can go wherever you want, knowing you're safe because your Pokemon will protect you. In the later games, you can dress however you want and express yourself freely. You can connect with nature and communities of friendly kids and adults around you. You can make a meaningful, positive impact on the world. You can stand toe-to-toe with adults who, in real life, would ignore or even belittle you because you're just a kid. (And, of course, you have superpowered pets that love you.)

I think about how in the original games, Brock and Misty are presented as kids/young teens and become friends with Ash. But, Lt. Surge presents a difficulty spike-- if you chose Bulbasaur, you can easily sweep the first two gyms with it, but now you don't have a supereffective match up unless you plan more. I think it's meaningful, then, that Lt. Surge is portrayed a big, scary adult man and military to boot. In the anime, he's presented as being condescending and intimidating toward Ash. But, you as the player are able to overcome this intimidating man through the power of your Pokemon. The same can be said for people like Team Rocket and Giovanni-- Giovanni's original sprite in Red & Blue makes it look like he's looming over you, sneering at you.

It can easily be forgotten by adult fans, but you're seeing this world through the perspective of a child. Giovanni looming over you represents how it feels to be a child, powerless, and face an adult who's cruel to you. But you defeat him at every match up.

Satoshi Tajiri would go on to say that Pokemon was inspired by his childhood, in which he'd go out and collect bugs. Miyamoto would say that the first Zelda game was inspired by his childhood in which he'd explore the local area and caves and so on.

It makes me sad to think that, as the world becomes more modern, more urbanized, and (as parents tend to see it, at least) more unsafe, this childhood that inspired these classic games become further out of reach for kids. When I was growing up, I lived in a suburb full of concrete. I couldn't walk anywhere, and even if I could, my mother was too anxious to let me just go around unsupervised.

This is why getting the bike is such a big moment in Pokemon-- you can go so much farther as a kid on a bike! But, I also could only ride my bike up and down my boring street before running into a major street full of cars going 50 MPH that would have murdered me instantly.

This isn't a doom post. I still believe that we can repair the damage that capitalism and cars have done to the world. But, I think that in times like this, it's more important than ever for kids to have access to these power fantasies, these escapes from a world that they have no ability to fix, but still suffer from regardless.

Ironically, I think that when I play Pokemon now, I play it to feel smaller rather than to feel bigger, the opposite of how I played it as a kid. Now, it's comforting to escape from work and stress into a world in which your only concerns are walking to the next town, catching a new Pokemon, and maybe fighting a gym leader. The same can be said of any piece of media that someone is nostalgic for, but I think Pokemon feeds into it well because its design is so baked in the experience of being a child.

When I'm playing Pokemon, especially when replaying an old game, I still remember things like only saving in Pokemon centers so that my character could sleep there in a nice building, or imagining them setting up camp if I had to save and quit on a route. If I had time, I would feed my Pokemon some Pokeblocks or etc. at my little 'camp' so they wouldn't be hungry (which is why I felt like the cooking and camping systems from SwSh were so real for me, haha).

I don't think that there's a 'wrong' way to play Pokemon-- I know people enjoy competitive Pokemon, and strict challenge runs, and stuff. And I can enjoy that, too! But, for me, Pokemon is about childhood, you know?

[gretavanglimmers]

Jake Kiszka & Female Reader

Chapter One: Don't look at me like that...

Summary: As landlady of the Vagabond Blues, you make all the rules. But there's one you just can't seem to keep with the lead guitarist of your house band. He waits for you every night at closing time. Set in the backdrop of the 80s style Roadhouse bar, Jake is a bad influence. But could he be exactly what you need, too?

A/N: Lovely tumblr friends, I'm a long time lurker reader and now here I am, sharing with you my first fic. I sincerely hope that it tickles your pickles. It's had a once over with a fine tooth comb, but please forgive any errors. And if I'm missing a trigger warning please feel free to pop into my inbox and give me a boot up the bum. Other than that, enjoy!

Warnings: Physical violence/Blood/ DomSub dynamics/ Fingering/ Oral Female/ Spitting / Restraint / Penetrative vaginal sex

The smoky haze of another Saturday night hung in the air. Tammy Wynette on the jukebox and the scent of spilled bourbon on your fingers. Broken glass crunched beneath your feet, and Jake was waiting for you on his perch at the end of the bar.

"Not tonight, baby." You sighed, slinging a cloth over your shoulder as you addressed him the same way you did every other patron. "I got this mess to clean up before I can clock off."

He barely lifted his eyes up from the papers rolling between his thumbs. Throwing his cigarette up and catching it between deft lips. He flicked his lighter open on the edge of his hand and held it until the papers startled to sizzle.

"You say that every night, Cookie." He replied, knocking back a single shot of tequila as the bar emptied. "And every night I wind up with a new pair of panties in my glove box."

Trophies. Reminders that he'd had you pressed up against his steering wheel out in the dusty parking lot. You should have known better than to wear any, knowing that he would be fixing to take you home.

"'Aint it enough to sit in my company a while?" You asked, filling his shot glass before he could ask for another. "We barely get to talking while I'm serving drinks and you're up there playin'"

He took a long drag off his cigarette, embers burning to ash as he slammed a five dollar bill on the sticky bar top. Whenever he paid for his drinks, it meant he was trying to get into your good graces. You took the money and slid it into your bra strap, hitting him with a seductive smile that told him it was your little secret.

"That's not a tip, Cookie." He admonished, "You'll get that later."

Of course you would. As much as you enjoyed making him wait, him being there made all the 2am closing rituals more palatable. You would serve beers to drunks and shmucks all night, playing nice and flirting a little while Jake sat on stage with his band trying to be heard over the clamour of bar fights and card games. Sometimes catching his eye between songs and fisticuffs.

"Be a doll and lock up for me." You said, tossing him a set of keys.

Jake had always been a dark horse. Turning up with his guitar one day, the flyer you'd left in town asking for a house band to play at the Vagabond Blues tucked under his arm. He'd played a few riffs on a scuffed up old acoustic, the way his lips pouted and his hips moved when he played sealing your fate. You'd hired him on the spot. Thinking his uncommon way of playing would bring in the girls, but keep the regular old timers happy with their penchant for nostalgic rock.

He didn't say much. Kept himself to himself. Every now and then a little nugget of something funny slipping out, making you notice him in a room full of mini skirts and denim. Chestnut waves of long hair tucked behind his ear, eating up your resolve to keep sex out of your business practices.

"You better give me my five dollars back if you want me to perform extra duties." He teased, sliding off his bar stool into a puddle of Jack Daniels.

You were fairly certain he knew he'd get what he wanted. But you leaned over the bar all the same, winding fingers around the chains at his neck and reeling him in towards your lips. Close enough to kiss, but not quite.

"You'll get that later." You whispered, releasing him before he could get too worked up.

The wicked grin he gave as he crossed the room kept you watching him. His ass in those tight levi's was a spectacle in and of itself, causing you to bite down heavily on your lip as you shook your head in disbelief of how flawlessly pert and round it was.

A beautiful distraction from the saloon door flying open. Your heart sank as it often did when people didn't respect your closing time. Drunk and in search of that elusive last sip. You often wondered what they had to go back to if they never wanted to go home.

"Hey!" You called, waving the white dish rag in your hand high above your head. "We're closing, Benny. You know the rules!"

Jake caught him as he stumbled in. Closely flanked by his dithering girlfriend, who could barely walk in her blood red stiletto heels. Chewing gum as she tried to placate his attempts to reach the bar.

"I'm so sorry, Cookie!" She cried, looking windswept and dishevelled as she fell over the chairs and tables. "I done told him it was closing time!"

"I 'aint having it tonight, Savannah." You tutted, confident that Jake could handle it. "You let Jake put him outside, now."

"Yes Ma'am." She replied, inebriated but not enough to know when it was time to call it a night. "I really am sorry about this."

Jake had him by the scruff of his collar. Placating him softly, telling him he'd had enough. Easing him back towards the door as he tried to break free.

"You go on home now, Benny." You humoured, placing a defensive hand to your hip as you prepared for the inevitable fight.

Punches rolled into the air, each one dodged and caught. Curses and spit flying everywhere as Jake manhandled him to the ground. Glasses smashing as tables were flipped, the sound of girlish screams as Savannah tried to keep her little skirt from riding up as she hitched herself onto Jake's back.

"What the hell, Savannah? Get the fuck off of me!" He shrugged, with very little effort, as she fell back into an abandoned deck of playing cards.

You whipped your dish rag on the back of a bar stool and flipped open the bar flap. Striding across the floor through a menagerie of spilled drinks and broken glass. Hardened to the way people loved to brawl after a few too many drinks, this was an inconvenience more than anything else.

"Get him the fuck out." You lashed, grabbing the poor girl by the straps of her little halter neck top and helping her to her feet. "And if you can't keep your man on a tight leash, I don't wanna see either of you in here again until you can. You hear me, Savannah?!"

Benny didn't like that. His fist reeling upwards as Jake lifted him from the ground. Both hands aggressively on the ripped shirt of your offending regular, unable to stop it connecting with his jaw. A simmering bubble of anger about to spill over the edges of your calm demeanour.

"Damn it, Benny!" Jake cried, reeling back before striking a dull kick to his stomach in a pair of boots you knew would leave a mark. "You want a drink so bad?"

You watched as Jake spat blood and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Something visceral and instinctual in the way you settled back onto the edge of the foray. Savannah lingered in the open doorway, the way you looked at her enough to keep her there.

"Have a fucking drink, my friend." Jake said amusingly, using the edge of his boot to turn Benny's head towards the whiskey saturated floor board.

Jake looked over to where you were standing. Arms crossed and a pout that spoke a thousand words you wouldn't say until the door was bolted shut.

"Alright, that's enough." He moaned, picking Benny up off the floor, every ounce of fight in him gone. "If I let you go, you're not going to swing for me again are you?"

Benny shook his head, defeated. Staggering into the doorway where his equally unsteady girlfriend caught him. The two of them descending into the early hours rain, their voices pitched and argumentative.

Jake picked up the keys from the floor, taking the liberty of locking everything up precisely how you'd asked him to. You could see the blood dripping from his lip, a look of consternation as he kept his eyes on you. He shoved the last bolt across, like he was pissed off at the interruption. Staring at you as you waited for him to be done.

"Don't look at me like that." You warned, taking a step back as he approached.

"You know I'm dead inside until you touch me, don't you?" He replied poetically, backing you up against the locked door. "There's only you who can get my blood pumping again, Cookie. You know that."

His blood was all you could taste as he caged your body between his and the door behind you. Pressing you into a kiss that was warm and metallic. His tongue probing yours in desperate search for a release that had been building all night.

As if you ever had the strength to deny him. Or yourself. Telling yourself pretty stories about driving yourself home without letting him have so much as a taste of the lace between your thighs. Such fiction always made you feel better about your intentions, until they fell by the wayside.

"We can't keep doing this, Jake." You said, like you always did, an echo of something you knew would never manifest. "It's bad for business."

Where he'd cut his lip, you could see the blood pooling. He sucked on it as he towered over you. Rubbing the remains of his kiss across your lips with the pad of his thumb.

"You tell yourself that." He murmured against the shell of your ear. "Tell yourself you don't want this. Your wet little pussy tells me a different story."

She betrayed you, the thing between your legs. You couldn't silence her purring, even if you'd tried. Your head was a revolving door of wanting him and trying so hard to convince yourself that you didn't. Your heart ached for him, even when he was sat on that little stool with his guitar perched on his knee, playing the blues for a crowd that barely listened. But that was yours to keep. That didn't belong to him. The throb was all his, though. He'd claimed that the first night he'd waited for you after closing. You couldn't hide it. He knew the way he made you gush from his touch. You had no control over your actions when he awakened that part of you.

"You're bad." You whispered, clenching your eyes shut tight, letting him open the buttons of your daisy dukes. "So, so fucking bad for me."

You could feel the clammy touch of his palm against your stomach. Opening your eyes the moment he slipped it down behind the waist band of your panties. Rounding over your mound where his fingers hooked delicately into the waiting wetness of your slit. Making you moan into his open mouth.

"There she is, my sweet Cookie." He crooned, taking your earlobe between his teeth, tentatively sucking. "They named you well when they called you that."

It was just a silly little childhood nickname. When your real name had been too hard to pronounce, your little brother had resorted to calling you Cookie. And it had stuck, nothing more than a curse to you now as he desecrated it. Took all the innocence out of it and made it filthy.

"Shut up!" You growled, wrapping your hands around his wrist. "Just shut the fuck up for once, Jake..."

His air of mysterious quiet didn't extend to these moments. He liked to talk. A revelation which had come to you unbound the first time he'd ever talked you through it. Giving you a running commentary on his every move, letting you know precisely how hard you got him. Keeping you hanging off every sensual word.

But sometimes, just sometimes... you needed him to push through all the nagging doubts. To make you forget that you were breaking your one and only rule. That you'd made it part of Vagabond Blues lore. No fucking the other employees.

You clutched him tight, forcing lazy circles around your hard clit. Biting down on your lip, panting heavily as his fingertip brushed over the hood. His eyes were locked on yours. Silently speaking to you as he rolled over the peak of your throbbing bud. He couldn't shut up, even if there were no words coming out of his mouth, his gaze conveyed his pleasure.

"Not here...not here..." You simmered, knowing you were moments from casting off the panties you knew he would keep as a souvenir.

He held you against the door, his hand applying enough pressure to keep you locked where you stood. Fingers stilled on your clit, like he was gently punishing you for trying to stop his flow.

"Nobody else is coming through that door." He asserted, his mouth lingering at yours, eyes shifting from your begging stare down to your parted lips. "And if they tried to, I'd take on any man who came between me and this..."

Your eyes rolled back as he slid a single digit into your entrance. Curling up inside you just enough that his tip could reach the sweet spot that made you fold into a thousand pleading little pieces.

"Guitar fingers..." You hummed.

He liked it when you stroked his prowess as a guitarist. It made him roll his hips into you, his painfully hard cock pressed into your stomach. His arousal piqued, and you truly believed that nobody could tear down that door without having to get through his dominance first.

"Gonna play you like a Gibson." He giggled softly, pulling down your shorts, taking the panties with them as you stepped out. "Make you sing for me, Cookie."

He brought big, strong hands down the curve of your spine and rounded them off around your ass. He lifted you up, forcing your thighs to wrap around him. Your saturated core dampening his shirt as he carried you over to the little box stage at the side of the bar. Laying you down with careful intention, your legs hanging off the edge for him to manipulate.

"No, not like a Gibson." You said, inching up your t-shirt until it sat around your collar bone, tits spilling out. "Play me like your Harmonica..."

You caught sight of his jaw clenching. His throat flexed as he swallowed, considering your demand as he slipped off his shirt. Unbuckling his belt so that it fell to either side of his waist, just enough to free his buttons and zipper. You could see the tip of his penis sitting snuggly behind the waist band of his boxer shorts.

He stood back. Folded his arms around his chest and gazed at you with intensifying heat.

"You want me to tongue block on your pussy?" He raised an eyebrow, resting his line of sight on the bloom of your centre as you hooked your toes over the edge of the stage.

He'd never looked more rockstar. Shirtless with his jeans wide open, his hair shrouding the darkness of his wild expression as he tilted his head forward. Softly predatory. In anticipation of getting a taste, he wound a tight fist around the chains that hung around his neck, licking a stripe across the split in his lip.

"Do something," You begged. "Anything, before I come to my fucking senses."

He wouldn't let you. He stood over you, pulling down your thighs until your legs were resting in the crooks of his arms.

"This is mine. Say it..." He growled, spitting onto your slit and letting it drip.

You almost couldn't formulate a coherent sentence. "Yours."

He nodded, railing a hand up to cover your left breast. "And these?"

"Yours." You echoed, "All of it, yours."

You'd heard the expression before. Be careful what you wish for. Begging him to do anything might have been too wild a request. He squeezed tightly, letting your hard nipple feel the friction of his closed fist. You were never coming to your senses, never...

Above your head were the stationary instruments of the Vagabond Blues Band. A set of guitars leaning against stands, an acoustic drum set at the back and a menagerie of amps and wires. Jake had an almost demonic glaze over his face as he leaned forward, letting your cunt press against the fabric between your flesh and his.

"Ever since I met you, Cookie, you've made it hard for me to want anything else." He said, gently placing your arms up as he clamped his mouth around your aching nipple. "I know it's wrong, I know it's against the fucking rules. But you got me all kinds of fucked up..."

You didn't realise what he was doing at first. Distracted by his beautiful mouth sucking on your breasts. Watching his tongue make circles around the gooseflesh of your areolas. Biting into the curve of them, leaving his mark as you laid beneath him savagely moaning, unaware that his amp cable was being twisted around your wrists. It was only when you tried to break free that you had to struggle.

"I got you all kinds of fucked up, so now you're keeping me prisoner is that it?" You tried to wriggle free, but the sleek black cords were pulled tight.

"You want me to set you free?" He smirked, pulling down his boxers, letting his raging hard cock fall out from behind it. "Just say the word, sweet Cookie, and I'll set you free."

He pushed his jeans down just enough to move his tip closer. With your knees parted and on full display for him, he wrapped a cautious hand around his base and began slapping your wetness against the inside of your thighs as he tapped your slit with his cock.

"It's wrong to want you the way I do." You confessed, your voice on the verge of wilting.

He continued tapping away at your clit. "Yeah, it's wrong. But doesn't it feel fucking good?"

You could only nod. Words evaded you. Breathing heavier and heavier, your chest heaving with your arms restrained above you as he drummed away on your pussy with his violent cock.

"Seems I got the wrong instrument." He snickered, "You wanted the Harmonica, right?"

You let out the most simpering whimper. A sound which made him smile in utter abandonment of his brooding.

"Oh, that's my girl." He beamed, trailing a palm down the centre of your body. "Fucking music to my ears."

He sank to his knees. Holding your thighs apart, knowing the grim state of the floor after a Saturday night you knew it was a real sacrifice on his part. Grateful for his dedication, you let him rest your legs over his shoulders as he buried his face into your aching, wet and impossibly hot pussy.

You began sobbing. Begging. Crying out deliriously. Trying so hard to be good and not unravel right there on the flat of his tongue as he licked deliberate stripes up the length of your dripping slit. Driving you to the edges of what was tolerable as he slurped and swallowed your wetness. Like he'd done with your nipple already, he clamped his mouth around your throbbing clit and started rolling his tongue against it. Pulling it into his mouth with gentle suction, humming his own feral moans against it as he jerked himself off.

You could feel the vibration, the movement of his body as he reeled his fist up and down his shaft. Pulling the flesh back and forth, squeezing as he rounded off at the tip. You knew his style, his melody. And the more you pictured it the more you ached for penetration.

"Fuck me, Jake..." You cried, fighting against your restraints to rag his head back, to take a fist of his hair so that you could see your juice glisten on his mouth. "I need it, baby...please!"

The blood was rushing in your ears. Your own heart beat thrumming wildly over the din of your own voice rising. Breathless and helpless, your wrists bound and your thighs rubbing eagerly against his ears it felt like he was deliberately keeping it from you.

"Don't make me cum in your mouth, Jake." You simpered, "I want you inside me. I'm your fucking boss, Jake...listen to me!"

Down through the valley of your heaving breasts and laboured breath, his eyes flitted upwards. Resting his chin on your mound, covered in a sheen of your mess, he pulled his tongue out of your cunt and looked up at you.

"You 'aint my boss when we do this." He switched, rising from his knees to appraise you. "You can be my boss while ever I'm getting paid to play. But soon as that door closes, you're my girl."

He loosened the cables. Stretching over you, setting you free. Immediately you sat up, resting on your palms as you watched him step back.

"Where are you going?" You asked, feeling a sudden rush of vulnerability as he hitched up his jeans and walked across the room towards the door.

Heat flushed to your cheeks. You felt humiliated. If he left you there like that, there was going to be no way back. You could already feel it rising in your chest. The pain and the breaking of your heart that you hadn't known would come.

Your shorts and panties were right where he left them, in a heap by the door where he'd make you take them off. You watched him reach into the pile of denim and pull out your black lace thong.

"Spoils of war." He replied, shoving them into his back pocket. "You look so beautiful like that, by the way."

You were sitting on the edge of the stage, your hair messed up and your cheeks all rosy. Still feeling the throb of where his mouth had been. You let your t-shirt fall, pulling it down in an act of rising shame at what you'd done.

"Beautiful enough that you're going to leave me here like this?" You wondered.

His brow knitted together in confusion. "Leave?"

You shrugged. "You're leaving, 'aint ya? Pissed you off with my I'm your fucking boss bullshit?"

He feigned offence, placing a hand at his heart as if you'd placed a dagger right there in the centre of his chest. You couldn't help but smile bashfully, looking down at your bare thighs as he strode back towards you.

He chucked your chin with the back of his hand. Making you look back up, unable to stop yourself from meeting his impenetrable gaze.

"Why you worried, woman?" He asked, "Nothing I done ever worried you before."

"No but..." You huffed, trying to reclaim your balance. "Then you said I was your girl when we do this."

You had to be strong all the time. The Vagabond Blues couldn't be run by anyone with a weak stomach or a fear of getting hurt. You had to be ten steps ahead at all times, predicting the moods and behaviours of every single soul under that roof. It was a lonely place to be.

"I'm not leaving." He answered softly, kissing you with his broken lip. "I didn't fuck my girl, yet."

You let him sink his teeth into your jawline, letting out a deep sigh as he pushed your legs apart. Quick, shallow breaths exhaled as he pushed his jeans back down. Trying in vain to keep yourself calm. But it was no to avail, you could feel the room begin to spin as Jake pushed his tip against your grieving clit.

"I can't be..." You whispered, tethered to him as he slipped inside slowly. "You know I can't be your girl."

You felt the soft brush of his hair against your cheek as he shook his head.

"No, Jake. Look at me, I want you to see me." You breathed, making him fuck in slow, hard thrusts that made your tits bounce against his chest. "I'm not who you think I am. I'm not somebody you can just claim."

"I know." He moaned, clinging to your body like it pained him. "You gave yourself to me, remember?"

"I mean it, Jake." You said firmly. "I can't have authority around here if people know about us."

He placed his hand over your mouth. You tasted the salt of his sweat on your lips. You could have said it a thousand times over and the outcome would always remain the same. He would wait for you at the end of the night, and you would go to him.

"Can't you feel that?" He said, low and gravelly as he peered down to watch your pussy swallow him whole. "Can't you feel how good my cock stretches inside you? Just let it go, Cookie."

Pussy lips like ribbons against his shaft, he pulled his hand away so that you could take a look for yourself. Like poetry in motion he was, fucking you so deliciously slow and hard. Sliding in with gentle force before slamming his body against yours to the hilt. Edging you closer and closer to that sweet finish.

"That's it, beautiful." He encouraged, his breath hitting your tongue so warm and familiar as you writhed against him on the edge of the stage. "Cum on my cock, let me feel that juice drip on me. Just let it all go, you can do it."

When it washed over you it was like being reborn. You wailed into the rafters, letting it echo into the eerie silence of the empty bar. Jake shuddered when you calmed, feeling a little wetter than you had been a moment ago.

"I can't do it, Jake...I can't!"

You'd never let him see you cry before. And for some unfathomable reason, he felt it necessary to kiss the tears which spilled from your lashes.

"Yes you can." He replied, "You already are."

.

.

.

Chapter Two: Look what you made me do... *Coming Soon

@takenbythemadness @writingcold @velveteencatch @scoreofinfantryvines @edgingthedarkness @lyndz2names @jakesmustache @jazzyfigz @gvfmarge @thewritingbeforesunrise @itsafullmoon @shutupdevvie

[ourladyofomega]

Do you remember life as it was pre-internet and pre-smartphone? Is it something you are nostalgic for? What aspects of your life still are like the pre-internet days that you anticipate to stay that way (at least for 10 more years)?

Absolutely, because I experienced it. Specifically, the last few years before grasping PCs full-time in community college. Back then, my diaries weren't written with pen and paper. I hit ‘record’ on my tape deck and have it write it all for me. I listen to those cassettes (that I still have and have been all digitized) and they instantly return me to the alternative and hip-hop / rap's golden era; back when we had Biggie and 2Pac. The feelings were different. The style, the vibe, the type of people around me. There was this constant camaraderie because everyone was around you. I always had friends and plenty of moments within reach. Meeting people outside the neighborhood was way more interesting because they were the type mine didn't have.

Each song that I'm listing right now still gives me a very specific moment and feeling experienced by me, for me, and only me. Songs like Da Youngstas' "Hip-Hop Ride" and Stone Temple Pilot’s “Vasoline” when my family and I took the ferry to Mashantucket, listening to Crooklyn Dodgers' eponymous track on my Walkman when I walked home from school, or Soundgarden's "Black Hole Sun" as a bargaining chip to win the favor of girls from another neighborhood. Notorious B.I.G. & Method Man “The What” and O.C.’s “Time’s Up” were the soundtrack to when I spent a week in Staten Island with my then-hood cousins. Sitting on my friend’s curb while listening to The Doors' "Light My Fire", or hearing Cutmasta D.C.’s “Brooklyn’s In The House” while I was crushing on someone I never met before. I can go on ad infinitum. The music meant so much to me that I started making seasonal mixtapes to revisit those moments anytime I want. Those feels still get to me to this day. I could also say the same for VHS. I literally have hundreds of tapes stored with me. It was a race to record every Philadelphia deathmatch and classic (Seventies and Eighties) game show because us fans feared they’d be lost forever. All of us has some Marion Stokes in us. Some more than others. I still kept hitting ‘record’ while I began record-shopping and found rare titles through backpage catalogs, bought compilations and magazines to discover new artists, and relied on word-of-mouth and mixtape trades amongst friends. This was what music-chasers had before MP3s amplified it all for everyone, including myself.

Even gaming. Going out of your way to the video store and literally borrow or buy and keep physical games - the solid state-era. Fighters were so much fun when you had everyone on the block at your house with no actual fist-fights and crucial shit broken. Or, having a literal crowd of people surrounding you during a one-on-one at Street Fighter found at every pizzeria, stationery, or laundromat. Human interaction was king back then. It was somewhat of a less toxic aura of life before smartphones, social media, or downloading took the mystique out of everything we experience now and poisoned us with repetition re-enforcement.

Now? We’re all used to it. It’s routine for everyone. The same ubiquitous being shoves all the world’s ills and hard pills to swallow down your throat while giving you an equal amount of solace, wisdom, and outreach in return. We traded in all the mystique of discovering things we once never knew of for the convenience of finding and getting what we want, when we want - with quick decisions to boot. We’ve taken it for granted. I still do everything I’ve done timelines ago, albeit differently now. I’ve always stayed in touch with the past while always moving forward and grasping the moments ahead.

Things changed when my uncle gifted my dad a Dell desktop and monitor. He loved free music. We were surprised that we could get anything we wanted instantly. We never looked back since. My music knowledge exponentially exploded through the roof thanks to the digital tide. Still does. I’ve always appreciated the classic synthpop, industrial, golden-era hip-hop / rap, alternative, hardcore, and electronic era while staying in touch with sampling, and discovering d.i.y., synthwave, noise, d-beat, indie, metalcore, long-lost African tapes, and deafening shoegaze over the last few years.

Discoveries of the last calendar decade are part of my current experiences. I can hear Crystal Castle’s “Pap Smear” in my head every time I drive to the radio station in cold Winter nights. The sounds of Suicide’s “Cheree” marked the time I re-connected with a former potential. L.I.E.S. Music For Shut-Ins, Dum Dum Girls’ “Bhang Bhang”, and Tantor’s “Niedernwöhren” stamped my time in Lindenhurst, Hauppage, and Ronkonkoma respectively. Bereket Mengistaab’s “Lebay”, Antwon’s “Helicopter”, and Gong Gong Gong’s “Siren” defined all the walks to the neighborhood veteran’s park. Black Marble’s “A Great Design” forever reminds me of that sunny June day in Greenpoint waiting in line to see Cold Cave. Both pandemic shut-ins and a day out with a mutual / potential would meet at Jade Imagine’s “Remote Control” and Eddie Russ’ “Zaius”. Yard Act’s “Dark Days” for the pinball arcade revival and the drive out to Williamsburg’s Rough Trade. And how can I forget Blonde Redhead’s “Melody Experiment” to mark a triple crown September weekend of family reunions in Staten Island, Cold Waves XI, and a drop-dead birthday gift from one of my all-time favorites?

I still spend hundreds, if not thousands, of dollars carefree on vinyl, cassettes, and discs while acquiring and salvaging everything digitally. No more magazines, replaced with tons of music sites and outlets. (Again, downloading and the endless-open of accessing sounds made it too easy.). You used to buy blind at the record store and be totally walloped at something you never imagined before. Now, you’ll find it everywhere online with no effort. Have all the free cards, spins, and rolls you want. I remember making my first online order ages ago, and smelled the production those fresh packages of vinyl records and discs in the mail. I’ll still purchase rare musicks online that I won’t find in stores.

Backseat rides with Walkmans were replaced with iPods and now iPhones on train lines to New York City; allowing me to carry flat, faceless MP3s rather than physical art, liner notes, thank-yous, and that sugary smell of plastic, booklets, and J-cards. It all still produces new memories and visions to this day. The mixtapes were replaced by CD-R’s for a few years before creating simple personal playlists I still make to this day.

Former childhood memories of opening / closing credits and themes, station i.d.’s, production credits, commercials, and chyrons are re-captured again with a quick rip. Most of the essential shows of my wasted youth becamse a few keywords away. Emulation leaves the door open to an era when it was simpler, more charming, and fun. Not today with the endless parade of stoic first-person shooters devoid of personality and micro-transactions nickel-and-dime you while providing misogyny / misandry, endless shit-talking, swatting, and fault-finding in everyone - all enjoyed by your lonesome online.

So many people assumed that vinyl records, cassettes, and video / pinball arcades fell into the wayside because of “better” technology. They surged back because we still appreciate and want the real thing. We’ve done a great job carrying everything over digitally and still kept it all.

Oh, I almost forgot. About people:

We’ve been facing technology as a double-edge sword bringing out the best and worst out of all of us, pushing out everything for the whole world to see. Remember what I mentioned earlier about one hand poisoning you while the other cures?  

It’s amplified world ills that always existed but made more apparent: rigged elections, the media selling war and dictatorships, disinformation, online gambling, political division, trauma and desensitization of violence and sex, losing privacy - all in an accelerated rate. We worried more about it now, now more than ever.

We never stressed over constant triggers, reminders, fear of missing out, or seeing your life in stasis as friends, families, rivals, and enemies move on (as a form of unintentional competition) like we do now. We shelve daylight and beautiful days for the hypnotism of constant mind-numbing updates, communication, and lethargy. Or, how young girls are constantly told they’re not good enough, learn about the double-standard, be gaslighted, or put themselves out there all-or-nothing to be noticed.

Dating was way easier back then because we didn’t have the bad ideas we have now. Dating sites created a power to pick and choose easily who our next potential or interest is; for winners to treat people like a commodity, dispose of, and ghost them. A comedy of errors for the losers starring broken-down self-esteem and self-confidence, paranoia, blatant intentions, loneliness, and game-playing more apparent. All the hands played are face up and for all to see. Draw, play, and discard at will.

It used to be that you wouldn’t know or believe what former classmates, co-workers, significants, or associates were up to through hearsay. Now it’s all within reach. Imagine being floored when you see your exes- have families, kids, or criminal records. Feel the sting when former #1’s smile with their new partners, or be totally surprised when others lives didn’t turn out as expected. Careers, money, marriage, relationships, adventures, accomplishments, births, deaths, suicides. Some have made you feel vindicated, at level with your peers, heartbroken, or missing out while everyone moves forward.

We throw rocks at people or hurt feelings from a distance, run, and get away with it. We pick and choose who lives and careers we can ruin in an instant, who to ridicule, or define someone with a ten-second meme for the rest of their lives. Or the many new ways people in general can be nasty towards each other. There’s so much bitterness, one-upsmanship, snarkiness, and manufactured drama because we allowed (social) media to run our minds for us. No middle-ground. Pick a side and vilify anyone who disagrees with you because we’re always right, even when we’re wrong. Demonize those who do the same things you do as well. It’s made us into miserable troublesome animals.

But…

Life for me has been so different since the divide that I’ve experienced quite a few events I normally wouldn’t. I started using this hellsite years ago to create an online journalism portfolio - which later on became a place for design, writing, and photography. It’s allowed me to document my time in radio (WUSB) and also show everyone how diverse, original, and open I am about myself and music. I love the gratification when someone reaches out to me about a favorite artist or record, and I love sharing some rare or obscure things only I know about that no one else does. It’s made what I do a unique experience.

I’ve met mutuals that I’d never even thought I’d ever meet (including two from my neighborhood!). There’s specific mutuals who untapped my potential, who I’d do wonderful things for that I wouldn’t for anyone else. These are the same people who I learned to trust and allowed me to be open with, minus the hair-trigger persecution, judgment, and ridicule from the rest. I keep my lines open for my closest ones trapped in destructive addiction, anxiety, bi-polarity, and isolation.

I’ve taken social and world events more seriously. It’s made me to give support who are worse off than me, to have compassion for people, to see opposite side of things, and recognize the real from fake. I have no patience for sensationalist tabloid garbage or the new reverse of ‘fake news’, and go right to what really matters to me: police brutality, the ongoing Palestine / Israel war, LGBTA rights, women’s rights, and other issues at hand.

I returned to my childhood I once abandoned since YouTube was very young. I constantly find everything jazz, sample, and crate-digging from that era to stay in touch with who I am.

Not even ten years ago, I couldn’t even fathom the concept of working at home. I left a decade of physical retail to do remote sales, and still stayed with the company to keep my health insurance, savings, and my time-off. I don’t deal with people’s attitudes, awkward interactions, or be forced into uneasy situations anymore. A literal live-saver.

Conversely, the post-internet era had introduced some hardcore pain in my life. I had one instance when a local mutual I wanted to meet tore my heart right out. Real bad. She’s why my journey into anxiety, depression, and mental health advocacy all started. No thanks to her. Another potential I met entered into my life thanks to social media (pre-Hellsite). She was someone who later on became an addict and I dated her for three months. She dumped me and burned her bridges when her boyfriend overdosed and died. I’ve also reached out to interests and potentials whom I made plans with; only for them to cancel at the very last minute. Their actions left me a “what-if” moment that’ll stay with me forever. It’s an all-or-nothing game we’re faced to play if we want to win. I look back and ended up accepting things I used to be dismissive of, and learned some things about myself I never expected to.

Yeah. Crazy to think that we experienced a change in our lifetimes - a Pandora’s Box - that we can never close. What used to be a novelty is now the norm, and what we used to take for granted is now a novelty in itself (the Othello effect). I know all these major constants will continue on, through whatever form or favor they become. Lord only knows what it will be. Place your bets now. **********

You’re more than free to ask me the same question again in 25 years. By then, you might ask me if I remember life as it was pre-dictatorship, what I’m nostalgic for, and what aspects of my life have stayed the same since. Count your lucky stars we don’t end up there.

[rockybloo]

What’s your favorite fairytale(s) reimagined piece of media? I’ll start first, beanstalked. It already looks so cool and reading about the characters makes me so excited to see more. The character design are amazing, your style is so damn nice to look at and seeing just how much these characters mean to you is so nice to see. MORE UNAPOLOGETIC LOVE FOR YOUR OWN STORIES! Everyone should I their own little fandoms in their heads! Draw those badass monsters! Make your silly little guys kiss! Your brain should be mush from your love of your own works! Also thanks for indirectly bring back my love for my oc’s from middle school, I missed those guys. Your stories have feel so nostalgic, so familiar and comforting but new and refreshing.

T thank yo ou u. I get so happy when people like Beanstalked, I KNOW I SAY THIS EVERYTIME SOMEONE SAYS THEY LIKE IT BUT I'MMA KEEP ON SAYING IT, because it is my baby 😭

AND YES-THE SELF INDULGENCE SPREADS

As for fav fairytale reimaginings-OH BOY here we go because do I have a LIST

Hammerstein's Cinderella (1997): One of my earliest memories of a fairy tale retellings that I actually enjoyed as a kid. There are so many things in it that just hit along with the songs. Honestly, every other live action Cinderella falls flat in comparison for me.

Happily Ever After: Fairy Tales for Every Child: I grew up watching reruns on HBO and it was a big motivation for me to say "fuck it" and make a vast majority of the characters in Beanstalked people of color. Plus, I love the design choices they make for a lot of the characters. And the 90s vibes are just sooo good.

American McGee's Grim: I love this demented little game and its style. The execution makes it worth it to play for me even if you aren't into fairy tales. Plus, how can I turn down technically having the ability to run around inside an ACTUAL level based on fairy tales. I have Jack and the Beanstalk, Little Red Riding Hood, Pinocchio, Beauty and the Beast, and Cinderella and I like to play them occasionally just for the fun of it. And yes, that Jack and the Beanstalk is 100%ed

Shrek 1 and 2: I love both these films and they are very nostalgic to me but I especially love the second. It really goes all in on that "living in a fairy tale" aspect with Fairy Godmother, Prince Charming, the Frog Prince, Puss in Boots, etc. Plus, that "I Need a Hero" montage just goes so hard. It's honestly one of my fav animated scenes in a film.

Guillermo Del Toro's Pinocchio: I love stop motion. And I love retellings that know their source material while also adding their own flavor. This film is such a work of art from head to toe and I balled so many times watching. Plus the way it touches on the aspect of life and death makes me so happy.

Puss in Boots: The Last Wish: I could gush on and on about how much I love the animations and characters but like…everyone has already done that for me so I will focus on what specifically made me love the film. And that's how it handles fairy tales. It takes a much more earnest approach than Shrek, which while I love, you have to admit it can be a bit mean spirited at times. So I enjoy how this movie was more of a "these tales are people living their lives". I love the found family aspect of Goldilocks and the Three Bears, Puss in Boots being a legend and a bad ass and cocky like the OG tale. I even liked Jack Horner and how he was just that good classic "I am a dick and I own it" character. Personally, I view him as a sort of commentary on how companies will IP dump things to seem cooler and more successful. In this case, it's Fairy Tale dumping which is DEF something I've seen SO MANY TIMES because companies will thing having a bunch of tales in one thing automatically makes them cool since "DISNEY DID IT SO IT'LL WORK" and they just land flat on their face. I genuinely hope that more films in the Shrekverse have this sort of down to earthness to them…and if no the Shrekverse then maybe some more animated films that genuinely reimagine fairy tales.

Relating to the previous point but I do not care what anyone says that little boy with the cow and the giant covered in greenery was def a fuckin Jack and the Beanstalk reference and I will fight everyone tooth and nail about it I SEE A REF TO MY FAV TALE WHEN I SEE IT DAMMIT

Alice and the Nightmare: A webcomic that's based off Alice in Wonderland. Currently, it's one of the only Alice based reimaginings that I like and the art is just so GOOD??? I am always hyped to read the next update.

I'm sure there is like...a crumb of more but these are the ones that really resonate with me and motivate me to work on Beanstalked when I see them. I keep thinking the list is gonna be longer but honestly...it's the list of fairy tale retellings that I'm NOT into that is the long one. It doesn't help that I occasionally watch the off brand animated fairy tale based movie on Netflix for funzies and come out mildly disturbed.

[transgirl-gaming-thoughts]

Between the Gameboy Advance, DS, 3DS, GameCube, Wii, and Switch, I actually think the Switch is my least played Nintendo console? Which is odd, since its technically their best-performing console yet. And no doubt it has great games, and plenty I haven't gotten to yet (Metroid Prime Remastered, Pikmin 4, and Mario Odyssey are next on my list I think), but the console itself is just so... lifeless.

When you look at something like the DS or DSi, the menu is pretty bare, but it has character. Buttons, details, sounds, etc all give a distinctively "DS" feel. The Wii and 3DS are very similar. Their menus both scream charm, like Nintendo carefully crafted them with visuals, sounds, and design in mind. The Wii especially is so nostalgic for me, and the 3DS is just fun and colorful.

The Switch has a menu that is the most "stock asset" menu I have ever seen on a console. The modern Xbox consoles have more identity than the Switch menu, and that's bizarre. No themes other than Light and Dark, no menu music, no shop music, no Nintendo charm. The other console menus made me actively want to boot up the system and check out what's going on or just browse the pages for a bit. The most I do with my Switch is maybe check on the eShop, or just go straight to a game. I never turn on my Switch if I don't know exactly what I'm planning to do with it.

And this seems like something really easily fixed too. At any time they could've added themes, music, new sounds, etc, but they just didn't. Again, no doubt the Switch has great games and a neat gimmick, but I really really hope that their next console has a more Nintendo feel and less of a "generic console menu" feel.

[gcldfanged]

@setirophx

Getting from Midgar to Junon had been a stressful endeavor, requiring assets such as falsified documentation and passports- New identities they had to memorize and manage to seamlessly obfuscate. Jae’s cover story had been easy enough, a simple name switch and a fake occupation. Immigrants from Wutai and Haneul typically had dual citizenship, so it wasn’t a massive stretch. Sephiroth and the child, on the other hand, had been more difficult. It wasn’t just a matter of cutting and dying hair, they had uniquely colored eyes to boot- Not to mention the former General couldn’t exactly pass himself off as any other eight to five salaryman.

The worst of it was behind them, they’d managed to get through to Yoon’s nation of origin. Shinra still had its industrial claws sucking the land dry of naturally rich deposits of mako, but they would not be risking a life in the capital city. The Turk took them further in the north along the various streams and rivers branching from the sprawling mountain range. Flat grassy planes and fertile hills began to give way to steppes and rocks. But they remained along the borders at the feet of the jutting dragon’s spine of cliffs along the peninsula, where the forest was dense. Game and flora would be more abundant there.

It took some time even by truck and Al was clearly growing rather disenchanted with how windy it was in comparison to the sunny shores of Junon or mild weather of Midgar. 

“I think this might be it,” Jae finally spoke, stepping out of the pick up. Ancient slices of tree trunks made a meandering pathway to a large house, clearly abandoned and in a questionable state. He was surprised that it was still standing, to be honest.

Al glanced around, looking less than impressed as he clung to Sephiroth’s leg.

“When are we going to go back?” the child asked, fidgeting in an anxious and unsure manner.

“This is going to be our home, Al. I grew up in this house when I was about your age,” he answered, feeling a strange mixture of nostalgic familiarity yet also awareness of the passage of time. It was still on the cusp between the end of summer and the start of fall, so the foliage was alive and vibrant green, trumpet vines and creeping ivy overtaking everything.

“Good thing winter hasn’t kicked in yet, or it’d all be snow.”

The nearest trading outpost wasn’t too far away, a small village a couple miles south. They could rely on dry goods and canned food for now, but when they had to contend with day long blizzards and low visibility, hunting would be their only source of steady food in addition to preserving grown vegetables during the fairer times of the year.

“Just keep your shoes on, I have no idea what kind of nasty bugs have probably been shacking up here. We get everything- Huntsman spiders, house centipedes, geckos- At least the geckos are cute.”

The hanok is mostly wood, stone, and earth, with sliding screen doors lined with additional panes of glass. Most of them were broken or cracked from wear and weather. The floors were heated via water boiler, but there was also a gudeul system for cooking and heating via firewood. There was a bathing area inside the house that required heat as well, but the bathroom was in a shed a couple steps away. A large gas generator was housed in a shed to run appliances and electricity, though they usually saved energy and relied on the gudeul in the wintertime.

“I’ll have find someone in the village to check the ondol system, since carbon monoxide poisoning is an issue if you don’t know what you’re doing… The generator seems okay, just dry. Water comes from wells and the mountain streams. Everything is totally overgrown, I’ll have to start over from the soil up if we want to have a garden.”

It wasn’t necessarily bad, but it wasn’t great, either.

“We could make this work, but I’ll be honest- It’s going to be hard. We’re going to have to do ton of repairs while the weather’s still nice and winter prep is going to be… uh. Maybe we’ll just deal with that after we get the house in working order. What do you think…? No good?” he asks, looking over the place once more.

[elvenbeard]

21. do they have any favorite spots around NC? (from CBp 2077 OC asks) Please :)

Yesssss, I was really hoping for this question, because I'll take any excuse to boot up the game to drive to some favourite spots :D Thank you so much!!

First on the list: the Bulwark and the surrounding pier area in Wellsprings. V often came here as a teenager, sometimes with friends to hang out, sometimes alone to get away from home and everything else for a while. It's kind of a nostalgic place for him still because of that, reminding him of a life that feels so far away, he sometimes wonders if he's just dreamt it all up. But he also has a handful of actually very happy memories of the area, which is a rare thing thinking of his teenage years as a whole.

Also a very important place that he comes back to now and then is this viewpoint south of the city. Jackie originally showed him the location, to introduce him to "a less glamorous side of the city" that is still beautiful in its own way. They often came here to talk about important things, when they wanted to be sure no one else would listen in. It's here were V told Jackie he would take up the job offer Arasaka made him, and where they both conspired to stay in touch through it all. It's always good to have friends in unusual places.

Yes, even after all that happened, V still liked to come to Corpo Plaza occasionally. When he still worked for Counterintel, he often came here when he needed a break, even if it was just for five minutes. Taking a walk around the gallery for a round or two and watching the holofishes float by was almost meditative and a good alternative to calm his nerves and clear his head instead of utilizing neuroboosters and the like. At least for a while it was enough.

The most recent of his favourite places, for more than one reason: the rooftop lounge of the Darkmatter bar. The obvious reason: Kerry showed him the place and they kissed for the first time. The less obvious reason: his old childhood home is right across the street. Seeing Charter Hill from above like that, also in this new context, all the bad memories he connected with the area for a long time suddenly feel very distant and far away. He's become his own person, he makes his own choices. He's confident in himself, has achieved things his teenage-self could have never even dreamt of. He's risen above it all, figuratively and literally, and it feels like everything's come full circle in that moment. Like he can make his peace with his past and that part of his life and move on.

[ladyhoneydee]

30 Day Song(fic) Challenge: Day 15

We are officially halfway through November, which means I'm halfway through this challenge!! Thank you to everyone who's supported me in this so far. <3

Today's Song(fic) Challenge prompt was "a song that makes you feel nostalgic", and while I debated between two different options for most of the day, I realized while watching a youtube video about the childhood-defining game that is Wii Sports, that I really wanted to do the Wii Sports Theme! Since this song doesn't have any words, I sought to capture it through sunny vibes, and the inclusion of one of Wii Sports most iconic games: bowling!

Bombchu Bowling

Game: Ocarina of Time, child timeline

Pairing: Link & Zelda friendship (crush if you squint)

Word Count: 2266

Keywords: kid playdate, friendly competition, new friendships

Link cracked a smile of his own. “Let’s go bowling, then!” He offered his hand to her, so that she wouldn’t be lost in the crowd. Castle Town was bustling more than ever, with the spring equinox approaching, and Impa—who was no doubt shadowing their every move—would probably hang him by the back of his tunic over Hyrule Castle’s moat if anything happened to Zelda.  When she took it, her warm and slightly clammy fingers wrapping around his own, he only blushed a little bit.

Read the fic on AO3, or under the cut!

“Link? Are you sure you want to do this with me?”

Zelda’s voice was tremulous. It was an odd enough occurrence for the eleven-year-old princess that Link turned around completely to face her. His brow furrowed at the pinchedness of her mouth and eyes. 

“Yeah? Why, what’s the matter?”

Zelda dropped her gaze and scuffed her boot on the ground. Link wondered if that was it—the boots were new, after all; this Zelda hadn’t even so much as trained on self-defense with Impa yet. Maybe her feet hurt. 

“Well, I…” Her voice sounded sad, and Link’s heart dropped to the level of his stomach. “I know I’m not really…your Zelda. You don’t need to invite me to things just to be nice—”

“Hey, hey, that’s not it!” Zelda’s bottom lip jutted out in the slightest of pouts at Link’s interruption, but she let him finish. He couldn’t lie, but— “You’re not, but that doesn’t make you not your own Zelda, and she’s pretty cool too.” 

His words were pretty tangly, but hopefully she’d get what he meant. Link gave her a smile. Unlike the ones he’d thrown around for weeks in Kokiri Village and Lon Lon Ranch after waking up as a kid once again, this one was even genuine. 

“I want to spend time with you, and get to know you, okay?” Link paused, and then tacked on, “Do you want to spend time with me too?”

He knew the importance of an escape route, after all. 

“No, no–I mean, yes! I do, Link.” 

Zelda’s smile was bright, the kind of pearly white that you could practically picture sparkles flying out from. His Zelda had never been able to smile like that around him, even as a kid, with the burden of foresight on her shoulders. It was really…nice, to see such a visible demonstration of the good he’d been able to do. The people of Hyrule—even Zelda herself—might not remember him and everything he’d gone through, but he was finding that it was enough to know that Ganondorf had been deposed by his people before he could gain power against their wishes, and Nabooru was safely in charge and advocating for the Gerudo; that the gorons and zora had never been harmed by one man’s awful, genocidal cruelty; that Kakariko never needed to become a safe haven, because people were living their lives in Castle Town like they always should have been. Every flower in every window box was a waving flag of victory.

Link cracked a smile of his own. “Let’s go bowling, then!”

He offered his hand to her, so that she wouldn’t be lost in the crowd. Castle Town was bustling more than ever, with the spring equinox approaching, and Impa—who was no doubt shadowing their every move—would probably hang him by the back of his tunic over Hyrule Castle’s moat if anything happened to Zelda. 

When she took it, her warm and slightly clammy fingers wrapping around his own, he only blushed a little bit. 

Despite the scores of people between the gates to the castle and the Bombchu Bowling Alley on the west side of town, Link and Zelda made it there in record time, with only a little bit of jostling. With it being such a nice day out—sunny and mild, with a warm spring breeze—he was unsurprised to find that they were the only two customers. 

“Um, Link? Do you think we should wake her?” 

With her free hand, Zelda was pointing to the operator, who was asleep behind the counter. Typical.

“Guess so,” Link shrugged. Feeling too bashful to let go of Zelda’s hand before she let go of his, he followed her lead as they walked their conjoined way up to the snoozing operator. 

“Excuse me, ma’am, but could we play a game of bowling?” 

When the operator didn’t respond, Zelda knocked on the wooden counter loudly. The woman woke with a start, blue hair flying every which way, and Link held back a smile at Zelda’s resourcefulness.

Embarrassed, the operator set them up at the lane right away with her trademark enthusiasm. Link wondered if her chipper attitude was intentionally compensating for her sleepiness, or if she was just genuinely this excited for bombchu bowling all the time. Maybe, if today went well, he and Zelda could make a habit of bowling to find out.

“You go first, Link,” Zelda said firmly, and placed his first bombchu in his hand. When he didn’t snatch it up right away, she wrapped his fingers up and around the mouse-shaped explosive for him. 

“You don’t want to go first?”

“No way. I want to see how it’s done. I’m not wasting my first turn!”

Taken aback, Link laughed. “You got it, Princess.”

Truth be told, Link had really never gotten the hang of bombchus. He was a bit too busy staving off the world’s misery and suffering during his adventure to hang out at the bowling alley—even in the past, when nothing too horrible had happened yet, the pressure wouldn’t let him relax—and had generally forgotten he had them at all when out in the field. So Zelda really wasn’t going to get much of a show; at least, unless he had a lucky streak. 

He told all this to her as he stepped up to the starting line, and pretended that the genuine appreciation he could hear in her voice when she thanked him for sharing didn’t make his throat form a lump the size of a boulder.

Link placed his first bombchu carefully, centered perfectly to collide in the middle of the target, and watched as it scurried right into the blade trap.

Zelda burst out laughing. “You weren’t kidding!”

“Hey, I’d have no reason to lie!” Link almost made a joke about her using the Lens of Truth to make sure he had no hidden intentions, but stopped short. That…was a joke for a Zelda who wasn’t here anymore. This one wouldn’t even know what the Lens was, anyway. Best not to bother.

Oblivious to his brief turmoil, Zelda had taken her own first bombchu in hand, and was talking through the instructions to herself. “...place the bombchu, light the fuse. Step up to the line, place the bombchu, light the fuse. Step up to the line…”

With a determined nod, Zelda strode up to the lane, knelt, and went to light the fuse—

Tweeeet!! 

They both turned to look at the operator, whose whistle was still poised at her lips. “You stepped over the line, kiddo! Try not to get too excited next time.”

Zelda and Link both stared down at Zelda’s right foot, which was in fact halfway over the line. She flushed, and stamped her foot the tiniest bit, which was kind of adorable. “I’ll do it right next round!” she vowed.

“Suuuure you will,” Link teased, and stepped up to the lane himself. 

For the next round, both princess and ex-hero remained unsuccessful. Link was once again thwarted by the dam—uh, dang—blade trap, and while Zelda was careful not to put a single toe over the line, she couldn’t get the timing right on the trap, either. 

On their third bombchu, though, Link’s murderous mouse finally made it past the trap, and exploded quite satisfyingly against the painted target. Not to be outdone, Zelda mimicked his timing—which he hadn’t even been paying attention to, honestly, so it was funny that she did—and succeeded herself. 

“Good job!” Link called over to her. Zelda turned back around to face him, beaming with glee. 

Of course, the second phase was even harder. Link wasted three more bombchus hitting the blade trap and the additional obstacle of a live cucco, whoever’s idea that was, but Zelda blew up the target with an exceedingly well-timed straight shot after only two. 

“I think I’m getting the hang of this!” Zelda clapped her hands together. 

Despite his competitive nature, Link really couldn’t begrudge her pulling ahead. After all, she was either really lucky, or surprisingly good for a beginner. Still, he couldn’t help from making one quip: “We’ll see how long that lasts, Princess!”

The answer to that was just until his next bombchu, as it happened. Despite all odds, somehow it made it to the target. Maybe it was the prayer he’d tossed to Farore for luck.

With the final phase unlocked, Zelda had six bombchus left, and Link five, and they proceeded to waste all but one each. Or rather, Link proceeded to waste them, as he shifted his starting position over and over, but continually slammed into either a blade, a cucco, or an empty section of wall. Zelda, for her part, was memorizing the patterns of every obstacle on the field with narrowed eyes, getting closer every time, but not quite close enough. 

Finally, they were each on their last ‘chu. Link set his down with another prayer, but his secret trick apparently didn’t work twice, because he ultimately missed once again. Still, he wasn’t too torn up about it. He was just glad that the cuccos wouldn’t take out all the pain he’d unleashed on them on him, like their brethren in the outside world. 

Zelda, for her part, approached the lane with single-minded grit and determination. Link watched with bated breath as she paced the line for the optimal starting point and counted under her breath. And then, she released it.

At first, he let out a groan, as the bombchu headed straight for the left-hand wall. It was an anticlimactic end to her calculations, to be sure, but understanda—wait! The bombchu was…climbing up the side of the wall? It was curving back around? 

His cheer was almost as loud as Zelda’s when the bombchu, having completely avoided every obstacle, struck the target dead-center.

Overcome with excitement, Zelda broke from her little victory dance to throw her arms around Link in a tight hug and jumping up and down. “I did it! I did it!”

“You sure did!” Link crowed. “You’re so clever, Zelda! Practically a pro! Who knew you could curve a bombchu?”

Zelda froze in his arms for the briefest of moments, but didn’t let go. “Well, I noticed they had a grippy substance on the bottom, and thought it was worth a try—the biggest gamble was getting the angle just right, but I had triangulated in my head how—”

“Hey, good job, kiddo!” The operator had apparently decided they’d had enough victory celebrating…or maybe she just didn’t want to hear Zelda talk about math. Regardless, she grinned at Zelda as she passed over a shiny purple rupee. “You’re a bit young for some of my other prizes, so take this! You’ve earned it!”

Zelda accepted the money with a sunbeam smile, and tucked it into her pocket pouch before turning to Link. “Do we have time for another game?”

Link checked the wall clock over the door, and was surprised to see that they’d already spent well over an hour bowling. He shook his head sadly. “I don’t think so. If I take any longer, Impa might skin me alive.”

“Probably not skin you alive,” Zelda mused. “That’s not really her style. She’d be much more likely to use you as a pincushion!”

Wow. He knew she was just teasing, but the cheerfulness in her voice when she said that was…a little scary. 

That was something else different about this Zelda, Link noticed. She shared his Zelda’s quick wit, cleverness, and planning, but her little quips and easygoingness regarding violence was something his Zelda had never been afforded. Violence, in their time, had been all too real to make jokes about.

He found, with a jolt, that he preferred this much more. 

He’d told Zelda at the start of this that she was her own person, and that was cool too, but some part of him had gone into this day hoping to find pieces of his Zelda in her. And that was probably mean of him, even if he hadn’t intended it. But what he’d learned was that he…liked this Zelda, too, for all of the things that made her her. The ones she shared with his Zelda, and the ones that were all her own. 

When they exited the bowling alley and stepped out into the street, blinking in the mid-afternoon sunlight, Zelda was the one to reach out her hand this time.

Link took it.

The walk back to the castle wasn’t as long as he wanted to be, as they filled it with laughing jokes and debates about which Castle Town game they might play next. The gates came looming into view—with Impa standing, legs stanced and arms crossed, between them—before he was ready to say goodbye. 

But then, wasn’t that how it always went?

With the promise that they’d do this again soon, though, Link found that it was the least painful goodbye he’d ever said. 

He looked on as Zelda and Impa walked back across the drawbridge. Even facing away from him, he could still hear Zelda’s excited voice. “Impa, look! I won fifty rupees playing bowling! You know how I’ve always wanted to have my own money! And the lady there called me ‘kiddo’! No one’s called me that but you, you know, I was so excited! And Link even called me Zelda! And the bombchus were so cute…”

Link turned around, smile blossomed into a full-grown grin. He had to leave now or he wouldn’t make it to Lon Lon Ranch until the evening. But then again, with the spring in his step, maybe it wouldn’t be long at all. 

[e-adlirez]

Every Pokémon home theme, vibe checked

Exactly what it says on the tin :]

This is coming from someone who played Pokemon Ruby as a kid and wasn't really able to play the other games besides Platinum on a PC ROM

Also it's highly recommended you listen to the home themes yourself while reading this

Anyway without further ado, enjoy :]

Pallet Town (PKMN Red & Blue): "... And so begins you, the protagonist's journey through the world of Pokemon!"

New Bark Town (PKMN GSC): "This is where your journey begins." as a non-Zelda fan or player it makes me feel like I'm booting up the original Legend of Zelda game for some reason, it's got that energy

Pallet Town (PKMN GSC): "Welcome to our town! It's not very big and it doesn't have a lot of people, but we're still proud of it nonetheless!"

Littleroot Town (PKMN RSE): "Welcome home, we hope you enjoy your stay." My home turf :D I remember listening to this theme for the first time in a while and I got emotional

Pallet Town (PKMN FrLg): "Welcome to my home!" Ngl gamers I got a little emotional listening to this one

Twinleaf Town (PKMN DPPlt): "This is my home. I've lived here for as long as I can remember. It's quiet and peaceful, but I love it here." The marimba added in the night version of the theme adds a bit of whimsy to it, like you can imagine the starry night sky above even if you can't see it

New Bark Town (PKMN HGSS): "This is where you start your journey. Look at this wonderful town!"

Pallet Town (PKMN HGSS): "This was where someone special began their journey. Perhaps you'll meet him on your journey one day."

Nuvema Town (PKMN B&W): "This is my home. This is where I spent my childhood, in this quiet, peaceful town. Now I'm heading out and I won't be seeing it for a while. I'm sure I'll miss this peace soon."

Aspertia City (PKMN B2W2): "Welcome to my house, in this big city! It can be busy and seem chaotic at times, but I love it here! It's lively, it's pretty, it's familiar, what's not to love?"

Vaniville Town (PKMN X&Y): "This is the place of my childhood. It's filled with happy memories." Fr this piece I feel was specifically designed to be nostalgic, it's also got medieval-fantasy starter town vibes, the one that hasn't been burned to the ground and the fair father figure hasn't been murdered yet

Littleroot Town (PKMN ORAS): "What is this new place? It's new and unfamiliar, but it's... homey? I'm not quite used to it, but I think I'll start to feel at home here in no time."

My Home (PKMN SM and USUM): "Welcome to my home on the beach! Do you want beverages? It can get a little hot here, so please help yourself to some juice!"

Pallet Town (PKMN Let's Go, Pikachu/Eevee!): "This is your home, dear protagonist. If you wish, please do linger and enjoy the beauty of your character's childhood home."

Postwick Town (PKMN SwSh): "Welcome to the place you will begin your journey. It's more on the rural side, but I'm sure you'll find yourself right at home here. Peaceful, beautiful, wonderful... if you have time off your journey, feel free to stop by to rest your weary legs." There's an ominous couple bars where the strings go into a high-pitched tremolo, I dunno if it's just me interpreting it weird or something, but I suspect it may have to do with SwSh's plot? I dunno

Home Indoor Theme (PKMN SV): "Welcome to your home! There's something different about it, something that sounds foreign to your ears. Wonder what it could be...."

Home Outdoor Theme (PKMN SV): "But of course! You're in a different region now! Well then, don't just stand there, go explore this new place you'll be living in!"

Here you go, what do ya'll think :3

[luna-the-duel-chronologist]

OCG Banlist Update April, 1, 2023

Good morning, Duelists! I’m Luna, the Duel Reporter, and I’m here with the latest and greatest Yu-Gi-Oh news.

This morning, the OCG ban list got an update taking place on April 1.

Here’s the update! (source: https://ygorganization.com/hailtothekingbaby/)

Forbidden: Spright Elf【Unlimited⇒Forbidden】

Limited: Blaster, Dragon Ruler of Infernos【Forbidden⇒Limited】 Glow-Up Bulb【Forbidden⇒Limited】 Mudora, the Sword Oracle【Unlimited⇒Limited】 Kelbek, the Ancient Vanguard【Unlimited⇒Limited】 The Bystial Lubellion【Unlimited⇒Limited】 Spright Blue【Unlimited⇒Limited】 Tearlaments Havnis【Semi-Limited⇒Limited】 Tearlaments Merrli【Unlimited⇒Limited】 Bystial Druiswurm【Unlimited⇒Limited】 Bystial Baldrake【Unlimited⇒Limited】 Skill Drain【Unlimited⇒Limited】

Semi-Limited: Ancient Fairy Dragon【Limited⇒Semi-Limited】 Salamangreat Gazelle【Limited⇒Semi-Limited】 Saryuja Skull Dread【Limited⇒Semi-Limited】 Tellarknight Ptolemaeus【Limited⇒Semi-Limited】 Blackwing – Steam the Cloak【Limited⇒Semi-Limited】 Thunder Dragonhawk【Limited⇒Semi-Limited】 Nadir Servant【Limited⇒Semi-Limited】 Spellbook of Judgment【Limited⇒Semi-Limited】 Runick Fountain【Unlimited⇒Semi-Limited】

Unlimited:

Galatea, the Orcust Automaton (Semi-Limited⇒Unlimited) Swap Frog (Semi-Limited⇒Unlimited) Sky Striker Ace – Kagari (Semi-Limited⇒Unlimited) Yata-Garasu (Semi-Limited⇒Unlimited) Cursed Eldland (Semi-Limited⇒Unlimited)

I’m not a fan of the hit on the Sprights, as a Spright player myself, but I get it. Blue is one of the best extenders in the deck and Spright Elf is a consistent member of a lot of decks’ end boards, especially in Tear Ishizu variants, like Tearlaments Kashtira, which was previously the best deck in the OCG.

Speaking of Tearlaments, it seems that the OCG is doing to Tear what the TCG did for the February 13 banned list, which is just limiting the Tearlaments that Fusion Summon. Although, I will say, I’m pleased to not see Tearlaments Kitkallos here. Good to see they’re not hitting as hard.

The limits to the Bystials surprised me, but I am genuinely glad to see the Bystials get the boot. D.D. Crow is a strong enough card, but having access to six and TWELVE that summon themselves is insane. Especially since all the Level 6 Bystials have additional effects. But, I think while Druiswurm was a safe pick to get sent to one, as it’s also a field removal card, I think Baldrake is a weird choice, since to me, it’s the weakest. Bystial Saronir and Bystial Magnahmut are both searchers, one for grave and hand respectively, Druiswurm kills a monster on leaving the field, but, Baldrake makes you tribute a monster to banish a Ritual monster/Extra Deck monster on summon. It’s the one with the most conditions.

The limiting of The Bystial Lubellion makes perfect sense, though. It’s incredibly searchable and activates a Continuous Branded Spell/Trap from your deck. And considering that the OCG is a format with Branded Etude in it, it just works that a floodgate searcher gets hit.

Speaking of floodgates, Skill Drain is limited. Again. I feel like this one card goes from 3 to 1 and 1 to 3 on a biweekly basis. I think with as crazy an effect as Skill Drain, it might just need to stay at one, especially as decks play less and less access to Spell/Trap removal.

On the other hand, there’s two limits that make me incredibly happy. Blaster, Dragon Ruler of Infernos and Glow-Up Bulb. Those two cards are incredibly nostalgic to me, being incredible power houses in HAT Format. Similarly to Tempest, Dragon Ruler of Storms, I don’t expect to see Blaster seeing much play in the modern game. Glow-Up Bulb, on the other hand, I could see being played in Rikka Sunvine decks as an extender and free Link set up.

I’m not going to go over all the semi-limits and unbans individually, but, I will say that these do feel a bit jarring as someone who plays the TCG. Because other than Ancient Fairy or Salamangreat Gazelle, we already have all these cards at 3, and even then, Ancient Fairy is a card you’d only ever need to run 1 of.

Salamangreat Gazelle, on the other hand, is a card I would love to see come back. Salad is a fun deck, and if you haven’t played it, I highly recommend you do!

Anyways, that’s been my report on the new OCG ban list. I hope you enjoyed my first Duel article! This has been Luna, the Duel Journalist, signing out!

[princesademian]

Castiel is going back and forth on the tree’s swing. All he can hear is the soft singing of the birds on the backyard.

Suddenly, tearing the silence, Cas hears tires on the asphalt. He smiles fondly and gets up, heading to the interior of the house. As he walks to the door, the whistle of his name becomes clearer. Once again, a soft, but even happier smile appears on his face.

The blue-eyed man opens the door and standing there, carefree, is a pair of beautiful green eyes. “Whistling my name”, he thinks.

— Cas.

— Dean. — He responds and let the new arriver come in.

So familiarized with the place, Dean walks directly to the kitchen and grabs a beer.

Cas in standing on the door frame, watching him.

— COD? — Dean asks, to what Cas agrees.

Both of them are on the living room, Cas on the sofa and Dean right on his feet drinking his long neck.

Castiel is wearing a cyan polo shirt, which matches his livid eyes. He pays attention in the game, trying to understand, for the fifth time, how exactly it works.

Dean, otherwise, wears a red flannel shirt and heavy boots.

They are so used to it. Meeting every afternoon. Waking up and the other’s face being the first thing they see in the day. Talking until the sleep beats them.

The sun is so hot outside; it’s one of these summers. However, a fresh breeze runs into the house and the tree’s shadows make the place a little bit cooler.

Cas is flushing as he watches Dean’s neck and hair. And he blushes even more when suddenly Deans leans back to kiss him, pushing Cas to the floor with him.

— I won. — Dean says happily.

— You are the best! — Cas whispers as he puts his hands on Dean’s back, trying to stand up.

— I am, right!?

One second before he closes his eyes for eternity, Cas dreams.

[…]

— It's you, it's you. — Cas says all at once. — It’s all for you… everything I do. — He points to his own chest.

In the next moment, Dean’s face is in between Cas’s hands.

The green-eyed man looks so fragile and exposed. So weak, differently from his usual.

— I tell you all the time. — Cas whines.

It is so hard for the angel to understand the feelings of the Earth’s man. He knows he loves him; so what is the big deal?

He can’t tell but, looking in those green eyes, which usually looks clear but now seen insurmountable, Castiel feels that there is something he can’t change.

And this makes him want to cry; he can change so many things, he can create and destroy. He can save people from hell. But why he can’t make someone loves him? No, it is not that, he thinks, why he can’t admit what he feels?

— Heaven is a place on Earth with you.

And this make Dean cries.

Because our hands are always almost touching, Cas thinks, but we never hold them. And we both know, honey pie, we both know;

— I have fallen from grace because of you, Dean. I gave everything for you!

“They say the word was made for two”, Castiel heard this from a singer named Carmen on his first days on Earth. He didn’t understood it and got even more confused when she added, in a low drunk tone, only worth living if somebody is loving you.

“How could it be?”, he thought back then, that living is only worth it if there is love?

And then it happened. And he got it. Deep on his heart, soul and mind. In every corner of his body, in every material that composed him.

The earthly Dean Winchester.

The nights hunting things, “family business”, Dean used to say. An important job, he said. But, oh, what he truly loved were the easy nights singing in old bars, playing pool and wild darts. All those posters of old stars, blurred by the time; how nostalgic he felt. It matched him, he thought.

Dean would stare at these posters in some fucked up dreamy way. As if he would, or wanted to, die young and this is how people would see and remember him: a beautiful happy smile frozen in time. Still beautiful, still Dean Winchester, people would think.

For Cas, otherwise, it was about how content Dean was. The half hugs, while drunk, that Dean gaved him. Oh, Cas looking up the skies — thinking of his old home, trying to see it — and him came, hugged him from back and told him to go back inside. And Castiel went, always.

(…)

And then, Dean was looking so confused while listening to Cas’s speech.

— Why does this sound like a goodbye?

He couldn’t shed a tear for how disassociated he was. It was not happening and it couldn’t be a goodbye.

— Because it is. — And, in Cas eyes, there where tears.

“This can’t be happening”, Dean thinks as in a pray.

— I love you.

Total silence. Dean’s mind is blank; but his whole body is cold and weak. “I love you too”, a tiny, but convinced voice, says inside of Dean.

But it is too late, he is already on the floor and a disgusting black goop is revolving Castiel. The last thing he does is smile fondly at Dean.

(…)

The flames are consuming his body.

And he sees nothing.

(…)

There is blood coming out from his mouth; and a huge pain on his chest.

Carmen’s voice echoes softly in his head:

They say that the world was built for two

Only worth living if somebody is loving you

And, baby, now you do.

He closes his eyes for the last time.

[freedfromthegalactichivemind]

The Gray Kind

She-Ra fanfiction  Mild shipping.  Catradora, Entrapdak, others hinted at / mentioned.  Characters: Adora, Catra, Bow, Glimmer, Scorpia, Entrapta, Hordak, Horde Clones  Genres: Slice of Life, Comedy. Post-canon.   Rating: PG / Teen, just because Catra uses a few naughty no-no words as a treat.  Inspired by: A trip to see my family across the country and a visit to get some takeout from a hole in the wall that I grew up with.   Summary: Adora is nostalgic for a few things - small things - from the Horde.  She finds herself missing ration bars, of all things, and seeks out the secret to their lost recipe.   Also on Ao3:  https://archiveofourown.org/works/46812565

The Gray Kind Adora picked at her plate of food at the royal table.  It was laid out with a fancy gelatin, beautiful fruits cut into fancy heart and star shapes, delicate cured meats and cheeses and delightful, fluffy biscuits. This was not normal for her, to pick rather than scarf and her friends noticed.   “What’s wrong with you?” Catra asked through a mouthful of ham and biscuit.  Glimmer gave her a glare from across the table.  Catra had never had the best table-manners and, then again, neither had Adora.  People who’d been raised in the Horde encountering good food for the first time tended to be none too delicate in their devouring.  Catra got, perhaps, a special pass just because everyone was glad that she was navigating basic morals and learning how to live a life not based on conquest.  She was also fairly new to eating at the royal table after spending the last year and a half in encampments working on rebuilding projects as per her reformation guidelines and being used to soldier’s mess-tents, where eating food quickly took priority to eating it delicately.   Adora knew better and had learned to be dainty enough for the Queen’s guards and dignitaries, but she’d never been this dainty before.   “Oh, nothing,” Adora tried to deflect.   “We haven’t seen you pick at a plate like this since we fighting the Galactic Horde!” Bow pointed out.  “Please tell us what’s wrong. We’re your friends.”   “I promise I wasn’t in the kitchen this time!” Glimmer joked, holding up her hands.   Adora took a little bite of a star-shaped white fruit and looked wistful.  “It’s wonderful, really, but I’ve just gotten to thinking how much I miss ration bars.” Everyone’s eyes went wide.   “Huh?” Glimmer half-yelped.  “Are you insulting Chef’s cooking?  If so, I’ve got to know, I mean… she’s not going to be happy if she’s off her game.”   “Are you sick?” Catra asked.  “Seriously, Adora, do you have a fever?”   “No, the food’s great!” Adora assured, “As always!  It’s better than I could ask for!  It’s just… I guess I’m feeling nostalgic…or something.”   “For the Horde?” said Bow, incredulous.   “A little,” Adora admitted.  She gave Catra a demure glance.  “I mean, the best part of being in the Horde is right here, but…” “It was terrible.” Catra huffed.   “Not always!”   “All we did was train.  Or sneak off somewhere and had to worry about getting caught doing ‘unauthorized activities.’  Things could fly under Hordak’s lack-of-nose but not a lot got past Shadow Weaver.  It was dismal and stinky…”   “Says the person who wanted to rule it,” Glimmer noted, snarkily.   “We’re all allowed to be young and stupid, right?”  Catra held her upper arms uncomfortably.  “Let’s… not bring this up.”   “Besides,” Glimmer added, “It’s not like you can’t go back, it’s just different now, better!  New Scorpioni is lush and green because of the She-Ra magic and the safe release of the Heart of Etheria!  I bet we can find all of your old make-out spots and revisit them and they’ll look a lot better now!”   Adora looked at her boots, her face going absolutely red at the joke about “make-out spots.”  Catra’s fur was puffed up.   “It’s not really that,” Adora said after a pause.  “It’s just… have you ever gotten a taste for something and you haven’t had it in a long time?  I haven’t had a ration bar in forever!  They were hearty and filling…” “And bland.  And weird,”  Catra added. “Good riddance!” “I thought you liked actual food!” Bow questioned.   “I do! I do!  I love it!” Adora said, holding her hands up.  “You know me!  I deplete the ice cream stocks almost as bad as Mermista!  It’s just… you know… I guess I’m a little tired of… fancy.”   “This isn’t fancy!” Glimmer retorted. “This is a pretty basic dinner. You were right beside me at my coronation, and at the Primefall ceremony and…” “I know, this is everyday, but it’s still ‘fancy’ to me.  It always has been.”   “I know!” Bow gasped, “It’s the party-thing all over again!  You had to get used to parties!  You didn’t even know what they were!”   “Pheh, Adora’s such a square,” Catra teased. “Always by the book, we could barely get her into anything contraband because she believed in the Horde’s mission to save the people of the planet from the eeeeevil princesses.  But… yeah… we didn’t do a lot of fun stuff in the Horde except beating each other up.  I still can’t believe you’re nostalgic for the food, though!  How can that even…be a thing?”   Catra stuffed another meat-laden biscuit into her mouth.  She munched and swallowed it down dramatically.   “The stuff was objectively garbage.” “I know, right?”  Adora said sheepishly, rubbing the back of her neck.  “But they had just the right amount of salt on them… and that red sauce that Commander Cobalt made sometimes – I don’t know it was made from, where he got it or what it even was, but it was perfect with the gray ones! It even made the brown ones taste better!”   “They were nutrition, not pleasure,” Catra reminded.   “Yeah… but… I kind of miss some things from… what used to be home.”   ____________________________ Later that night, Catra was hanging up her daytime clothes while Adora was washing her face in the bathroom sink of their private chambers.   “Do you really miss the Horde?”  Catra asked, “I don’t miss anything about it. Everything about it was miserable – except maybe when I took over and got to push ol’ Hordak around.  I have to admit, that was kind of fun.  But… you know… it’s hard for me to be nostalgic when the only reason I was there was because I got dumped off there in a box and Shadow Weaver only let you ‘keep’ me because you thought I was a kitten.”   “You are a kitten,”  Adora said, turning around with a cheeky grin.  

“But I grew up. Surprised the hell out of everyone that I wasn’t the species they thought I was.  We’re free now. We aren’t following anyone’s orders, living in fear anymore and we get to eat what we like.  Why would you want anything else?”  

“Just a flavor I miss,” Adora said, shirking on a sheer white nightgown over her underclothes.  Whether it, or they, would stay on the entire night was up to them. Catra was giving Adora a frisky smile while Adora was giving Catra a tired one.  Maybe it was going to be just one of those “cuddle and talk” nights.  

Catra sighed as she sat down on their bed. The tip of her tail lashed with a tremor of agitation.  “To tell the truth,” she admitted.  “I kind of miss them, too.”  

“Heh, really?” Adora asked.  

“Maybe not the brown ones.  The green ones were a little better.  The gray ones… were actually kind of good – especially with that weird sauce.  The stuff was just a little bit spicy, not too much.  I don’t know if it would go with anything else!  It was just perfect with the bars – they somehow, SOMEHOW worked! I swear, Adora!  The people here in Bright Moon just put cream sauce and their fancy berry jams on everything… If I never see a béchamel again, It’ll be too soon!”  

Adora softly laughed.  “I know they’ll never understand it!  Horde-food is, as you said, just ‘objectively bad.’  The most cost-effective ingredients…reconstituted whatsit!  We could have been eating a bunch of bugs for all we know!”  

“I have to keep up appearances, you know,” Catra said, her ears drooping.  “Sparkles and Arrow Boy and the staff and the citizens all accept you and whatever quirks you have because you’re She-Ra.  I screwed up in a way I can never come back from, so I can’t talk about missing anything about the Horde.  I have to be polite and eat their food and just get used to being all…civilized, I guess.”  She turned away when Adora sat down next to her.  “I’m still only here because I’m your pet.”  

“I wouldn’t say that.  You did a lot…in the end, I mean… fighting Prime.  You were the key to his downfall – you and I and all of our friends. Don’t ever forget that. I would not be here without you.”  

“It doesn’t really make up for the damage I caused up until then.  And… if Entrapta is to be believed, even fuckin’ Hordak helped to take down Prime and you don’t see anyone inviting him over for tea.”    

“He wouldn’t come,” Adora offered.  “I actually invited him once.  Entrapta said he wasn’t feeling well.”  

They sat in silence until Catra turned back to Adora.  “I feel like I have to try so hard… so they don’t feel like I’m a threat anymore, I mean.”

“You don’t have to try as hard as you think you do,” Adora offered.  She cupped Catra’s cheek and ran a thumb over it.  She ran the tips of her fingers up to touch the back of her ear in just the way that Catra liked.  

“Maybe we can take a trip to visit Scorpia and see if she knows anything about our old crappy food,”  Catra said.  “It would be just like her to keep making the junk.”  

“It’s been a long day,”  Adora replied with a frisky smile.  “I think we should both go to bed.”  

____________________________________

 “I’m afraid we don’t have the technology anymore,” Scorpia said as she, Catra and Adora walked in the shade.  “Those machines all broke down when the vines got up in them and no one’s bothered to fix them.”  

Various people milled about. Many carried or carted construction-supplies as even over one year after Primefall, there was quite a lot of repair to be done, as well as new building of infrastructure and housing as people moved into the former Fright Zone.  Gardeners in big floppy sun-hats trimmed vines and bushes – and not all of them had metal shears. Some had claws. Scoriponi people who’d been scattered throughout Etheria were returning to their ancient homeland under the rule of their ex-soldier-Princess (although Scorpia would be the last to say that she really ruled the land, the Princess-stuff being new to her.  She billed herself more like a loose organizer with something of a Force Captain’s ways, still).  Ex Horde-soldiers that both Catra and Adora recognized seemed to be making a good life for themselves here.  There were even a few clones.  

“Do you know the old recipes, at least?” Adora implored.

“Nope! Can’t say that I do!  Are you sure you wouldn’t rather have some of my special tea?  Or crumpets? Perfuma taught me how to make great crumpets.  Oh! And Entrapta’s kitchen staff taught me a recipe for these miniature scones! They’re just wonderful!”  

“Nah,” Catra said, pointing a teasing finger at Adora.  “Blondie here is really hankering for some old school straight-up garbage-food.”  

“Do you know where Commander Cobalt got off to, at least?” Adora asked.  “We need something from him, too.”  

“The last I saw him, he and Captain Grizzlor were going to make a new life for themselves in the Crimson Waste – they were going to try to open up a bar or something.”  

“We like what you’ve done with the place,” Adora offered.  

“I’m not sure it’s what my family had when I was too little to remember…before the Horde.”  Scorpia was sheepish.  She rubbed the back of her neck with her right claw.  “I’m trying, though… and making it our own.  We’re keeping most of the growth here, trying to make it into gardens.  Perfuma and I kind of…have extended visits with each other?  I don’t really like living out of a tent or in a tree-hollow in Plumeria, I’m more of an indoor-gal, so it’s kind of a compromise.”  

Catra held an arm and lashed her tail. “I can’t say that I’m not still getting used to the Bright Moon lifestyle, either.”  

“Yeah… it can be a little much,” Adora admitted.  “It’s why we’re getting a bit nostalgic.”

“For crap,” Catra asserted.

“Yeah…for crap…I guess,” Adora conceded.

“You could try asking Hordak,” Scorpia suggested.  “He invented the ration bars, so he’d know all about them!”  

Catra turned on her heel and put herself into a position to walk straight back to the skiff that she and Adora had come in on. “Nope!”  

________________________________________

 Adora found herself alone on the dark mountain trail leading up to the Crypto Castle in Dryl.  She was bound and determined to find answers, even as Catra was content to forget about it and go back to cream sauces and berry jams over smoked river-fish and delicate cured meats.  

Being greeted by robots did feel unnatural and being greeted by clones almost as much so – each face essentially the same, save for how many new eye colors and hair colors they were now displaying. As uncanny as they were by their left-of-standard-humanoid nature, the clones in settlement in Dryl made Adora smile. They were very warm to her, welcoming. They were experimenting with a wide variety of clothing – trousers, dresses, big weird hats with feathers…sandals with socks.  They’d developed a variety of little quirks, somewhat exaggerated in each individual expressly to stand out – as individuals.  They certainly were developing their own culture apart from their collective past quite rapidly and Adora had never before seen people so full of what seemed to be a collective joy.  

They were free now and they reveled in it.

A lovely spacebat with eyes that had gone a warm light brown named Acorn escorted Adora inside.  “Oh, and you might want to duck now,” he casually said after several minutes as they walked along.    

At that moment, Adora sensed a disturbance in the air and heard a “Whoosh!”  Acorn grabbed her shoulder and they ducked down just as a blade swept past their heads, parting a hair at the very top of Adora’s head.  Her eyes were wide and her teeth were clenched.  

“Entrapta has disabled most of the castle traps,” Acorn tried to assure her, “but a few parts of the security system are still armed.  We’ve all gotten to know which ones and where by now, but guests need a little help.”  

“Um… thank you… Mr. Acorn,” Adora squeaked out.

“ADORA!”  

That loud, nasal voice could only belong to one person.  Entrapta slipped down out of the ceiling and ambulated on her hair to greet her in the front hall. “I’m so glad you’re here!  Will you do a She-Ra transformation for me up in my lab?  I wanted to run some more tests…”  

“Um…” Adora said awkwardly, penting her index fingers together.  “Believe it or not, I’m actually here to see Hordak.”  

“Oh, I’ll tell him right away!”  

________________________________

 “If this is about the prosthetics-project, tell the Queen that we are still working out some critical errors in the cybernetics.”  

Hordak stood with his back to her.  His armored arms were crossed.  He stood over a table upon which was what appeared to be an artificial arm composed of a kind of material somewhat resembling First Ones’ crystalline.  It had a gap in the middle, composed of an independently-swiveling radius and ulna.

“And the Salineas water-purification machines should be ready in a month’s time if Mermista’s engineers decide to actually follow our blueprints instead of insisting upon their stubborn continuance to be suspicious of us.  Let it be known that Entrapta’s brilliance more than makes up for my… war criminal inclinations.  I will go back to that kingdom in chains once again if it would assure the populace of my contrition…”  

“I’m not here for any of that,” Adora said with an anxious, insincere laugh.  “I am here asking after a recipe.”  

“A recipe?”  Hordak turned around, his ears perking up with utter incredulousness. “You may wish to speak with Baker regarding your request.  I have barely begun to understand…food.”  

“He loves mangoes!”  Entrapta chimed.  She stuck her face in her tablet and let her fingers slide over it. “We’ve got some more heavy-ore to trade if Plumeria is interested in sending us more fruit and seeds and tree-saplings!  The bats are just wild about fruit! And Dryl has many new subjects to keep fed now that they’re weaning off the amniotic fluid! Any kind! It doesn’t matter!  Did you know that they can even eat berries that are poisonous to us?  I had a panic when Wrongie got into some nightshade, but he was just fine!”  

“Ration bars,” Adora asked, ignoring Entrapta’s tangent and looking Hordak straight in his deep red eyes.  “I want to learn how to make the old Horde ration bars.”  

“Ration bars?”  Hordak asked, “Whatever for?  Does not Bright Moon already have a nutrition program for their army?  Are you planning another interstellar journey and require something easy to store?”  

“Okay, this is going to sound weird, but here goes…”  Adora caught her breath.  “I kind of miss the taste of them?”  

Hordak snorted.  His ears went sideways.  

“Do you also wish to know the makings of Galactic Horde amniotic fluid?” he sarcastically inquired.  

“No, no,” Adora said, holding her hands up, “That’s fine.  It’s just… I got so used to eating the bars as a kid that I sort of miss them now that I haven’t had them in a long time?”  

“And I thought that once one discovered flavor that one was never supposed to go back,” Hordak said, turning around again, tinkering with the arm on the table.  “As you wish.  I will share the components of the bars.  No doubt you will find yourself disappointed in them all over again.”  

“Thank you, sir.”  

“I am no longer a sir or a lord,” Hordak reminded her.  “I am merely a failed conqueror, a defective clone, a war criminal making pitiful attempts at atonement and… Entrapta’s.”  

Hordak grabbed a tablet off a shelf and pressed several places on the screen with casual clawed fingers.  “Ah, yes, here it is.  Brown, green and gray.  Each had a base of common grains – generally wheat and barley, whatever we took from annexed farmlands.  Vegetal components consisted of sea grasses harvested by the Horde navy and freshwater algal blooms, spirulina and the like… Ah, yes… a protein component of various insects that infested the Fright Zone – pest control and nutrition all in one. Imp couldn’t control all of the pests on his own as much as he liked to try…”  

“Insects?”  Adora made a face.  

“Four-footed livestock animals were thrown into the mix when we were able, but yes,” Hordak said with a nod, not looking away from the pad, “Insects were the most reliable resource.  I assure you that they were thoroughly cleansed and cooked so that the ones found in the sewers would not infect the soldiers with any of the diseases that the planetary natives are so prone to in regards to contact with waste and the creatures that happen to live in it.”  

Adora made another, more wrinkled up face.

“Tell me that sewer-bugs weren’t in the gray ones…” she pleaded with a wince.  

“We tended to source the higher quality gray mix from annexed farmland.  Most of it was made of what you would call…what is it again?  The curled-furred especially stupid animals?  Mutton? And the eggs of the common domestic birds?”

“Yep!” Entrapta chimed.  

Adora breathed a sigh of relief.  King Micah had been trying to impress upon her the joys of insects as cuisine, but she had yet to take to it – and even he eschewed the idea of the spindly-legged crawly brown sewer-scuttlers.  

At least one thing she’d liked to eat in the past – her favorite kind of bar – was made of something decent.  

“Oh, and myself,” Hordak added.  

“Huh?”  Adora asked.  

Hordak set the pad down on the worktable and regarded her with a straight face.  He gestured to his chest.  “Myself,” he repeated.  

“I…am afraid that I do not understand?”  

“The gray bars provided an extra nutrient-boost to the troops.  A part of their component was a cloned matrix of my own cells.”  

Adora’s jaw dropped in horror.  

Hordak smiled wickedly as he tugged at one of the thigh-slits of his tabard-dress.  Entrapta grinned ear to ear.  “Remember, Entrapta, how I showed you the harvest-point? Right here, from a small sample of my right thigh-muscle.”

“Well, those thighs are your best feature other than your brain!”  

Hordak smacked his thigh playfully (for Entrapta) and put down his dress.  His ears were perked and he had an undeniable sharp-toothed grin at Adora’s discomfort.

“Oh, dear moons, I know what you taste like…”

“He’s quite a snack, isn’t he?”  Entrapta said, sidling up to the spacebat and wrapping a tail of hair around his waist.  

“I…know…what…you…taste…like…”  

“Not truly,” Hordak said.  “The treatment necessary to foster vat-growth rendered out any flavor you might find in conventional meat.  It should come as no surprise to you.  Clone-components made up a significant portion of our amniotic fluid.”  Hordak’s ears tipped back and he looked ceilingward, thoughtful.  “What used to be ‘waste-management’ and ‘humanoid-resources’ in space is something we have since rejected in regards to a newfound respect for personhood, but I cannot say that I had these qualms back when I ran the Etherian Horde.”  

“I’ve…eaten you…or some of you…”  

“I am afraid so, Adora.”  

“Adora?” Entrapta asked in concern, “You look a little green…”  

_____________________________________

In the end, Adora somehow tracked down the recipe for Commander Cobalt’s special sauce – a mix of tomato and peppers with a few stray seasonings thrown in (all vegetation-based).  

She found out that it was quite good with fried potatoes and with crispy fried fish.  

Adora was content to never eat a gray ration bar again.  

__________________________

END.

[survey--s]

414.

Is Christmas your all-time favorite holiday? If so, why?  Definitely. Mike and I both take two weeks off at Christmas so it’s really nice to have a guaranteed chunk of time together. I’m not so fussed about Christmas Day itself, though. Is Christmas more about presents or family? Family. Do you have your Christmas tree and decorations up? No, we don’t bother with a tree anymore. The cats just climb it and knock it over and I end up spending half my life picking up after them, lol. Do you even decorate? Not anymore. We have fairy lights up all year and sometimes have the fire on so it feels festive, but that’s about it.

Have you ever told a person that they are all you want for Christmas? Not seriously, lol. What are you hoping to get this Christmas? Riding boots, money for riding lessons/beach rides. By any chance is it a game console? Nope. We already have three of those. Do you even make Christmas lists? No. Are you grateful with anything you get for Christmas? I mean, I love that people think of me, but I wouldn’t say I was necessarily grateful to get generic gifts, no. Have you ever given away a gift because you didn't like it? Yes. I always re-gift stuff I don’t like or won’t use. Have you ever gotten a gift that you felt like you couldn't accept? Yeah, just because it was too much and I felt bad, ha. Are you going to do any traveling this Christmas? Nope. Maybe a few day trips but that’s the extent of it. Is anyone coming to visit you for Christmas? I’m not sure. I’m going to see my parents on Tuesday and I expect Mike’s family will come and visit at some point. In your opinion, what is Christmas really all about? Family, time off work and relaxing. Do you enjoy the 25 days of Christmas on some TV channels? I have no idea what that is, so I’m going to assume we don’t have it here lol. What Christmas movie is your favorite? The Grinch, Elf, Love Actually, Bridget Jones, Mary Poppins. I realise they’re not all Christmas movies, but they remind me of this time of year. Have you seen 'A Christmas Story'? If so, did you like it? No. Do you think that 'How the Grinch Stole Christmas' is lame or classic? I love it but I wouldn’t call it a classic, lol. What is the first Christmas movie you have seen this month? The Grinch, ha. Do you enjoy listening to Christmas music? I love it as long as I’m in the right mood for it. Do you really get involved in the Christmas spirit? Hmmm, no not really. I like Christmas but I’m not into the hugely OTT stuff that some people do. Does the Christmas environment make you feel comfortable? It feels nostalgic and comfortable, yes. Do you donate toys for the toy drive this time of year? No, but that’s only because we don’t have any toys and I can’t afford to go out and buy unnecessary gifts, in the nicest way. What is the best Christmas gift you have ever received? I couldn’t pick just one - I’ve had loads of great gifts over the years. Have you ever cried on Christmas day? I’m sure I have at some point, yeah. I mean, little kids often have tantrums at Christmas as it’s just so overwhelming. Are you usually the first one to wake up on Christmas day? Yeah, but normally because I need a wee rather than out of excitement, hahah. Are your favorite colors red and green? No. Even when I was younger, our tree was blue/pink/purple and silver. What colors do you like to see in Christmas lights? Multi-coloured ones are nice, but I think soft white ones are more traditional. Have you ever helped your friends decorate for Christmas? Nope. Do your Christmas decorations stay up until New Year's? They did when I was younger, yeah. Are you usually the one that takes down the decorations? My mum always used to do it. In your opinion, what is the best gift you have ever given someone? I have no idea, you’d have to ask other people that question, lol. Have you ever given someone a gift they didn't like? I’m sure. Nobody can get it right all the time. Is it really the thought that counts? Hmm, to an extent. I mean, yes, it’s nice to receive gifts but it feels really wasteful when people just buy stuff for the sake of it. Do you throw Christmas parties every year? I can’t think of anything worse, hahah. Do you even enjoy Christmas parties? No, I find them too noisy/busy and quite overwhelming. What happened on the worst Christmas you ever had? I can’t pick out a Christmas that was really awful.    Has Christmas been on your mind more and more as the days go by? Yeah, just because I finished work for the holidays yesterday and had a Christmas beach ride yesterday, and we had mulled wine and mince pies afterwards lol. Do you usually count down the days until Christmas? Not really. I did as a kid, though. Do you know people who hate Christmas? Yeah, a few.  What age did you stop believing in Santa Clause? I think I was maybe around 6-7 years old. Do you host any kind of Christmas event or help with it? We sometimes have Mike’s family over but I wouldn’t say we hosted, really. We just do tea/coffee/drinks and some snacks. Do you like eggnog? Yeah. Have you ever done a 'Secret Santa'? Sure, in pretty much every single workplace ever. Do you hate to see people sad on Christmas? I mean, I don’t like seeing people sad at any time of the year. Have you ever ruined someone else's Christmas? I mean, I hope not. Do you decorate any online profiles for Christmas? I use Christmas themed photos on here, but that’s the extent of it. If you could live Christmas over day after day, would you? No, I’d be fed up after a couple of days. Part of what makes Christmas special is that it only happens once a year. Do you have any pets that you buy Christmas presents for? No, but they all get a pet-safe Christmas dinner, lol. The cats get roast chicken, and the dog gets roast chicken, potatoes and veggies. Are you or have you ever been in a Christmas play? If so, which one was it? Yeah, in primary school. We did normal nativity plays as well as ones that were written by our drama teacher. Does Christmas get old year after year? I wouldn’t say it gets old as such, but I think it becomes less magical as you get older, unless you have young children to celebrate with. Do you like, love, or hate Christmas shopping? I hate it. Has anyone ever ruined your Christmas? Having to work Boxing Day was always a bit rubbish as it meant you could never fully relax. I had to drive to work so I couldn’t really drink, and I was always mindful of having to go to bed early too lol. Have you witnessed your neighbors arguing on Christmas? (I have, bad scene) Sure, I think arguments are pretty commonplace around the holidays. Are you working on Christmas? No. I finished work on the 16th and go back on the 3rd. Have you ever had to work on Christmas? Not Christmas Day, but prior to going self-employed, I always worked either Christmas Eve or Boxing Day, sometimes both. Have you ever lost someone special on Christmas? No. Is Christmas better than New Year's or are they both equally awesome? Christmas is better.  Are you really excited for Christmas? Not really, it’s just nice to be off work. Did you like this survey? I hope so. Well, bye! ^_^ Sure. See ya.

[mephistonedthecremator]

A Fresh Start in blogging (not the one with v, of course)

It's a typical night, me and my girl tried to sleep early after a good dinner. I get to sleep about 2 hours but then I woke up cold, and found out my girl is still playing on her phone. I decided to open up my PC and boot up dota2 and play some games. Lost sadly, coz of a noob-ass Anti-Mage mid versus an enemy SF. Me and Bon was having a good lane and I even get to build aghs but yeah, we lost. Then, I saw my girl boot up the laptop and was murmuring something, its her tumblr blogs that she's reading. I am very curious and asked about it, and here I am, on my first draft. Right now, I just feel euphoric. I feel calm and happy. Even with a broken body clock, I still feel somewhat productive. I get to cook, clean my dog's droppings and some other stuff. I hope to get a job soon, that's what I want. I want to have my own money to spend. I want to save some cash to buy something for myself, hmmm, maybe a PS5 console? Oh, a new pc set? A laptop! Hmm I don't really know but I just want to have all the things I've missed during my childhood. Damn, there are rats again in our kitchen, I also hope to catch them all soon and pour boiling water on them -_- such a pest. wow this is actually good and nostalgic, because I used to write on our school papers before, and was practicing journalism before. KEKW

[imogenkol]

Our hero, our hero, claims a warriors heart

I tell you, I tell you, the Dragonborn comes

Yrsa Gunnr

Race: Nord

Date of Birth: 19th of Evening Star, 4E 175

Special Status: Dragonborn, Werebear

Occupation: Blacksmith Apprentice, Woodworker

Affiliations: Stormcloaks (former), Companions, Thieves Guild