#/ some of us are stupid. and that's EXCITING!

[morganski-19]

Chills Right to the Marrow Part 49

ao3 link| part 1 . . . part 46, part 47, part 48

Wayne’s so tired when he gets back from work, he just wants to fall on his bed and sleep for a day. But he can’t, not yet. Because Steve’s telling him the phone’s for him, and he should take it.

Finally, after months of saving and looking, Wayne put in an offer at a place. Nice little house with two bedrooms, even one with an en suite bathroom. Nice kitchen, good sizes living room, an actual driveway. Even a basement. Everything Wayne’s always wanted but never thought he could have.

His offer was exactly asking price, he couldn’t think of parting with anything more. The phone call was probably from the realtor Mrs. Henderson gave him, telling him that they rejected it. Wanted him to go higher. Like every other house he’s looked at. Just people trying to get more money to start their lives out of the town they ran from within days.

Wayne nods at Steve while he takes the phone. “Wayne Munson,” he sighs into the phone. Already ready for impact.

“Mr. Munson,” the realtor’s cheery voice comes in through the line. Way too early for nine in the morning. “I have some great news, they accepted your offer.”

“What?” he blurts out. Needing to know that his half-asleep mind just didn’t make that up.

“The house, they accepted your offer. You can get the keys as soon as the payment goes through, and everything gets signed.”

It was real. He got the house. A dream he’s long given up on, now a reality. Wayne doesn’t know how he’s supposed to act. The sleep keeps dragging him to the floor, but he almost feels like floating.

“Mr. Munson, are you still there?”

“Yes, sorry. I just got back from a shift, but can I come in this afternoon to get everything settled?”

“Let me look.” There is rustling of some papers over the line. “It looks like I can meet with you at three thirty to get everything signed, how does that sound?”

Somehow Wayne musters up the energy to smile. “That works, thank you.”

“Alright, I’ll see you then.”

Wayne hangs up the phone on the receiver, not sure how or what he’s feeling. The tiredness still pulling at his bones, but excitement pumping through his heart. He feels like a kid again, too excited to fall asleep.

It’s weird, having a dream that was so long forgotten it became impossible. What was he supposed to do know that it was not only probable but completed?

There’s so much he has to do. Pack away their things there, get some new furniture. Maybe he can go to that thrift store and find some stuff. Just little things to get them through. They need new everything.

Maybe they should stay here for a few more weeks and slowly build up the house. Get things as the pay checks come in, starting with beds and building to a couch. They could get some of those stupid things in houses that always seemed pointless. Like two end tables, or stupid decorations. Something that no one with a soul buys but get anyway because it’s a statement piece.

Wayne finds himself walking toward the living room. Needing to tell someone. Physical exhaustion in each step, but he feels like flying.

“We got the house,” he says with pure disbelief.

Eddie sits up. “What?”

“We got the house,” he says again. Certainty coming through his voice.

“Holy shit.” Eddie motions for Steve’s hand. “Help me up.”

Steve holds out his hand and holds it steady as Eddie uses it to push himself up. Eddie stumbles over to Wayne and collapses in a hug.

“We got a house.”

“We got a house,” Wayne repeats. Tears finding their way to his eyes.

“Congratulations,” Steve says forcefully. Wayne looks at him, seeing the slump of his shoulders. “I’m happy for you guys.”

He knew this would happen when they agreed to live here. When Steve decided to open up, not only his home, but his heart. Show them how an empty house could feel full again. Just to be left empty once more.

But Steve has to move, too. Sometime soon. Maybe he can find a nice apartment with one of his friends. That way it won’t feel so bad leaving him here. And it’s not like they’ll go far. How could they, with everything that’s happened. Eddie will still need help some days, and Steve could come over any time. And there was the elephant in the room he’s been avoiding, that will keep them close.

Wayne can say that he’ll miss living with him. A few months ago, he wouldn’t have believed those words were true. But it was nice living with Steve. Having another person to help out with Eddie, help out with the house. Having little meals left for him when he comes back from his shifts.

But, as much as that hurts, Wayne’s overjoyed. They finally have a house. It’s more than he’s ever asked for.

Little bit of a shorter part to start off the final Wayne pov chapter, can't believe it's already here tbh.

tag list (closed): @the-they-who-nerded, @insteviewetrust, @croatoan-like-its-hot, @jettestar,

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@papergrenade, @waelkyring, @sweetheartprincess28, @katouasobj, @astercomoasflores

[wonsdoll]

𝐶𝑂𝐿𝐷 iN LA ── SJY

❄️ 𝖽𝗈𝗇’𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗅𝗄 𝖺𝗐𝖺𝗒, 𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗂𝗍’𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝗅𝖽 𝗂𝗇 𝗅𝖺 .. 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗆𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝗁𝗂𝗇𝖽

PREC𝓲S ｡｡ 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗌𝗎𝖽𝖽𝖾𝗇𝗅𝗒, 𝗆𝗈𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗁𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌𝗇’𝗍 𝗌𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝖺 𝗀𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍 𝗂𝖽𝖾𝖺, 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗋𝖾𝗆𝗂𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗍𝗈𝗐𝗇, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗈 𝖽𝗂𝖽 𝗁𝖾.

심재윤 ／⠀𝑓𝑒𝑚𝑎𝑙𝑒 reader ── fluff + non 𝑖𝑑𝑜𝑙 au ｡｡ if you know this song, i love you >3< happy birthday to MY MAN !! ∿ ✦ more

♫ iS YOUR BODY TALKING, CAUSE YOU DONT KNOW WHAT TO SAY? DO YOU DO THIS OFTEN? IS IT ALL JUST A GAME? TO YOU IM WONDERIN’ , NEVER SEEN THIS SORT OF THING.. AM i THE ONLY ONE YOU CAME TO SEE ?

moving back to your hometown was supposed to be exciting. you got to be with your family again, reconnect with close friends, and experience everything from your childhood. part of you had forgotten you met jake in your hometown.

it was senior year 2019, when jake slipped a note in your locker saying he has a crush on you. at first you hesitated, “ why would the best soccer player at school have a crush on me? ” you were skeptical, but you went for it.

your relationship was perfect.. for a while. miscommunications were happening constantly, leaving you unsure about where your relationship stood. you called it off, leaving yourself and jake heartbroken. to escape your heartbreak, after high school you moved away.

being a few hours away from your hometown was difficult. you didn’t see your parents often, you were alone almost everyday, who lead you to feeling depressed. after some time away, you decided it was finally time to move back home.

you pulled into the driveway of your parents house, turning the car off as you hopped out of the driver seat. you walked to the front door and knocked on it, hoping your mother or father would answer.

“there you are sweetheart, i’m so glad you got here safe.” your mother pulls you in for a warm embrace, being in her arms after a long time felt like a warm blanket on the coldest day.

it was cold after all, it was the middle of december. the snow was falling softly, and your fingers grew red and cold. you got inside, where you reunited with the rest of your family members. over a cup of hot chocolate, your mother asks about jake.

“have you contacted jake since you got here?” she asks, her hand resting on top of your free hand.

jake.. a name you haven’t heard in months. “no.” you quickly said, sipping on your hot chocolate. you wanted to avoid the topic, deep down though, you wanted to know how he was doing.

“you know he visits sometimes… to see your brother” your mom added, you had forgotten your brother and jake were close. “shit..” you mumbled under your breath.

jake and your brother were on the same soccer team, after finding out they had a lot in common, they became close friends. close friends lead to spending the night at each others houses and play video games.

your brother came out of his room to greet you. “been a while, sis.” jaemin hugged you. your brother never hugged you, but you could easily tell he missed you. you caught up with your brother, during the conversation you managed to ask about jake and his well-being.

“so how is he..?” you ask, sipping your hot chocolate to avoid saying his name.

“who?” jaemin teases, forcing you to say the forbidden name.

“jake, stupid.” you roll your eyes, placing the cup onto the nearby coffee table.

“jake’s been alright. we went to nationals and he made us win the golden cup.” jaemin bragged, proud of the moment. “he’s a great guy you know.. i think he misses you.”

jaemin’s words had you for a minute, lost in your thoughts. you couldn’t imagine your ex of almost 5 years missing you, or even holding onto the feeling you.

“you’d think by now he’s probably seeing someone.” you tried to brush off the thought of jake, as much as you tried, he always came back to your thoughts.

you went into your childhood bedroom, your bed made the same way you left it, all your childhood goodies remained safe and tucked exactly where you left them. you skimmed through your shelves, looking past all your school awards and achievements.

your eyes became fixed on a stuffed bear jake had bought you after finding out you won your volleyball tournament, the matching bracelets you bought on a school trip, and other goodies you had saved.

the idea of throwing away anything that belonged to your past relationship hurt you, it was almost like you were throwing away the memories and the idea of him, which was far from the truth. ever since that talk with your brother, you wanted to see jake again, you just needed a way to.

you decided to grab a few essentials for dinner that night, your father promised to make all your favorite comfort meals but needed a few more things. as you were about to check out, you noticed a familiar face at the register.

it was jake, something about his appearance was different. he looked more mature, his hair got longer. he wasn’t the jake you knew back in highschool, he was far from that. nervously, you walked to the register jake was working at. his eyes widened as he met with your figure.

“y/n.. no way?” jake says, he stops scanning your groceries, giving you his full attention.

“hi jake..” you smiled nervously, it had been a while and it was clear you both were nervous.

“when did you come back?” he asks, his dark eyes meeting with yours, sending a familiar feeling up your spine.

“today actually..my dads making dinner tonight so i had to pick up some things. so you work here now?” you ask.

jake nods, smiling dearly. “ i do, it helps pay for university.” he resumes scanning your groceries, placing them all in a bag. “that’ll be $21.97”

you reach in your wallet to grab your card, you hold out the card for him to take and swipe. jake’s hand gently touches yours, you don’t pull away, instead you found yourself yearning for another subtle touch. as jake swipes your card, returning it to you, your fingers touch his.

jake’s face flashed a shade of pink, he grew more nervous. “have a good day y/n.. hope to see you soon.” he waved goodbye, his smile was just how you remembered, soft and sweet.

jake went home that same night, his thoughts were consumed with you. he wondered about what happened after you moved away, what your life was before coming back. he sat on the couch of his apartment, scrolling through his socials as he normally would. suddenly, his phone rang, causing him to jump out of his thoughts.

“hello?” jake answered, it was jaemin.

“hey, you wanna come over and play that new game that came out earlier this week.” jaemin asked, setting up his console for two players.

“yeah i’ll be there.” jake hung up, he grabbed his coat and a few snacks before heading back out.

jake arrived within 5 minutes, while him and your brother stayed up playing video games, you sat in your bed, your attention growing strong onto a book you’d recently gotten into. within a few hours of gaming, jaemin has fallen asleep on the bean bag chair he sat on.

jake got up slowly, he made his way to the door and opened it softly. his figure made it into the hallway, walking towards your half—closed door. jake knocked softly. “can i come in.”

“yeah.” you said, sitting up in your bed and placing your book to your side. “what are you doing up so late?”

“jaemin fell asleep.. and honestly i can’t sleep.” jake sat by the end of your bed, you could hear the tiredness in his voice and his eyes.

“how come?” you asked, leaning against the headboard behind you.

“because you’re back in town.. and i’m always thinking about you. but now, you’re here.. you’re consuming my mind so much y/n.” jake stopped, realizing he had said too much.

“i should go back.. shouldn’t i?” you asked, unsure if what he said was a good thing or bad.

“i don’t want you to go back, your home is here..with me.” jake leaned in close, the closest he’s been since your last moment together as a couple.

jake’s lips softly pressed against yours, pulling you into a sweet and soft kiss. his lips on yours was a familiar feeling, one you hadn’t felt in a long time. you slowly pulled away, jake had realized what he just did, he quickly backed up.

“i’m sorry.. i shouldn’t have done that.” jake got up from your bed. “i’m sorry y/n..” he quickly left your room, leaving you alone in your thoughts, questioning what happens next.

it had been a few nights since the incident in your bedroom, you refused to tell your mom or anyone, except yunjin, your childhood best friend.

you and yunjin were getting ready for a holiday party, you both wore matching red dresses and a similar heel. “so he kissed you?” she asks, finishing up her makeup.

“yeah he did.. i don’t know what to do now.” you sat down, getting ready to place your heels on.

“i say go for it, i mean your brother told you he misses you .. and he pulled that? you should absolutely go for it.” yunjin stops. “only if that’s what you want.”

“i do.. kinda?” you said, you were confused and lost in your thoughts.

life with jake again didn’t sound so bad, in fact you both grew as the years progressed, you matured as individuals and that was what mattered.

you and yunjin arrived at the apartment complex the party was being held at. the music was blasting, drinks were on the table and everyone was enjoying themselves. you sat down on a couch, your drink in hand as you watched everyone have a good time.

“wishing jake was here.. maybe he’d keep my company.”

you thought to yourself, when in reality, you didn’t know how to talk to him after the incident in your bedroom. you sipped your drink, when suddenly jake appeared from the crowd.

“looks like you’re not having fun, parties have never been your thing.” jake smiled, a hand reaching out towards you. “come.. let’s go outside for a bit.

“you remembered..” you smiled, taking his hand as you both walked out to the balcony. “of course i do..” jake adds, opening the door to the spacious area.

you and jake stood beside eachother, it was quiet for a moment, silence consumed most of the air, followed by the loud music coming from inside.

“i miss us.” you blurt out, a rather surprised look forming on jake’s face. “ever since i moved back here i was afraid of seeing you again.”

“why’s that?” jake asks, his hand leaning against the cold medal of the balcony.

“i don’t know..” you sighed. “we’re both confused, are we no-“

jake’s lips crashed onto yours, a sweet kiss you received weeks ago. the smell of his cologne filled your nostrils, it was all too familiar. his hand rested on your lower back, holding you close to him.

“i know what i want.. and that’s you.” jake smiled, holding you close to him. his eyes met with yours, sending a rush of shivers down your spine.

“i want you as well.” you smiled, leaning in to kiss him again.

[3liza]

everyone arguing with material analysis/assertion about how art is a "luxury" has rarely if ever spent rent or food money on art, if they even pay rent or buy their own food, and if they did that would be considered extremely dysfunctional, and thats what i/we mean. artists are not providing a necessary service.

our plane crashes in the Andes and you are not particularly excited about my "can draw that Playboy centerfold of Marge Simpson from memory" like that is not an essential survival skill. lots of extremely skilled workers work in luxury artisan and craft jobs, it's not an insult to say even a very famous and very talented and influential artist is not producing a commodity necessary for the furtherance of human life. none of us are doing that, no matter how we stretch and strain the definitions of "essential" or even things like "morale" or "group identity". i will burn my copy of Finnegan's Wake to stay warm and thats what it comes down to.

i get foamy crazy snarling and biting about the idolization and obfuscation of what artists actually do because it is a labor issue! the public conception of artists as people possessed of a divine talent they dont consciously work to develop like any other skill, and the public idea that we are simply pleased and privileged to make art all day and "not work", something people say to my face every time i get asked "what i do", is largely responsible for the absolute dogshit reality of how subsistence and working class artists have to survive. we usually dont have health insurance unless we're so poor we qualify for medicaid AND live in a state that will enroll us. most of us are too disabled or crazy to go to a real job every day. most of us have tried, over and over, to enter the normal workforce, and have failed, and been forced to develop alternate skills that allow us to make rent in the ten hours per month we're actually functional. many of the artists i know work from bed because standing up is dicey. this has been turned into a charming eccentricity of famous artists and writers instead of people wondering why a person would need to stay in bed all day and take the enormous bother of bringing their stupid pens and paper and writing board or typewriter or whatever to their bed instead of just getting up and getting dressed and going to work. ive done this, i spilled ink in my sheets. its a huge hassle.

and artists play along with this mystique because people dont want to buy paintings from sadlords! they want to buy paintings and books and marge simpson nudes from cool guys who get a lot of chicks and wear rockstar outfits and party a lot, because of the transitive properties! of course!!! this is basic marketing!!!!! and if the artist doesnt play along they turn into Sad Story Artist where they're doing emergency commissions and posting about how sick they are all the time. this is not cool or fun or sexy. it's a sand trap and its very hard to recover from. im struggling with this right now!

famous and successful artists and writers are constantly ending up 60-90 years old with cancer and multiple sclerosis and dementia, being the subject of some sort of public, last-ditch, humiliating GoFundMe because painting paperback covers fr 60 years means you dont get a pension, you often dont even have kids who can take care of you, you dont have life insurance, you dont have health insurance. 'died penniless and alone' is one of the stereotypical artist endings for a reason, that is not fiction. this happened to more artists than i can list on two hands. look up what happened to Peter S. beagle, the guy who wrote The Last Unicorn. you write a book like that you should be set for life, right? NO. thats not how it works

i'm not saying 'all artists are disabled and working class or poor' because that isnt true, observably. nepo babies and trust fund artists exist, obviously. but they take an outsized portion of the spotlight when the public thinks of the concept of "artist". they are not actually the norm. the average artist is probably making under 40k and living in extremely precarious circumstances and has had periods of homelessness, illness, extreme debt and/or bankruptcy.

this is true even for the 'successful' artists. having one or two or ten good projects and being a household name does not save you from just not having the safety net provided by a normal career path. i was very close with a major, famous 2000s network television creator and team that you have heard of. they won awards, they changed culture entirely, they were a big deal. one of them was turned down for a half dozen projects by the same network that made millions or bilions on their franchise over several years (each pitch is completely unpaid btw, imagine carefully preparing a PowerPoint for morons for months at a time for no reimbursement and thent he morons ask you if you can put a teenage witch looking for her lost cat in the alps in it and you're like, haha, well, it's a 4 part hard sci fi miniseries set on Europa and takes place entirely inside a pressurized lander settlement, i mean Ridley Scot said he was interested already and he pitched a bottle episode about a carbon monoxide poisoning, soooooo....and the executives look at each other and they're like "it's jst not really what we're looking for right now, thanks for coming in" and you go to coffee bean and tea leaf and kill yourself and thats sort of what its like. i made that example up it didn't actually happen i'm using an illustrative example), worked on a canceled film, and just. gradually ran out of money. thats what happens. that guy ended up slowly selling off all his belongings, getting roommates in a one bedroom apartment, and then eventually having to just live on a friend's couch for years. famous guy. you probably know his name. another major member of that same team ended up in GoFundMe/commission hell for years (might still be there) because they had to take care of their two dying, dementia patient parents by themselves. these are people who go to GenCon and sign autographs for four hours at a time. THE PUBLIC IS NOT AWARE OF THIS SHIT and i'm sick of it. im sick of going to a gallery opening night ("vernissage") and drinking bad wine and having a guy with an email job that pays six figures and benefits tell me being able to push "undo" on the computer is cheating. that's a real example, that has actually happened to me. more than once.

artists currently have zero labor protections whatsoever. all of us are undercutting each other in an unregulated market and relying on welfare and private insurance and not having families or buying houses. zero security until we get so old all our illnesses and dysfunction finally ground us permanently and then we get turned into a charity case by fans (humiliating) or just fade away into ghosts and die

whats my punchline? idk i dont have one. it's possible and likely that any given artist you meet is permanently in precarity and will be until they die, even the famous ones. the culture of selling art demands that artists do not admit to this in public unless shit gets really really bad. i guess my point is you should know this, as a person who looks at or listens to or reads things that people have made for your amusement, not for your survival

[hannahssimblr]

After eight, in the inner city, I hold the door for Astrid. We step inside the restaurant and heat hits our faces in a waft, warming our frozen skin. Astrid slips her gloves off, folds her hat and unzips her coat with ease as I struggle, suddenly far too hot in my hat, the zip of my coat slipping between gloved fingers. I’ve pulled it inside out by the time the cloakroom attendant takes it out of my hands. I have walked snow onto the carpet behind me, while Astrid, miraculously, has not. 

“They’re all here already,” she says. “We’re the last.”

“Yes, like always.” 

It’s a table for six, and there our friends sit in conversation, their menus already on the table. 

“Oh, Astrid! Jude!” Elias gets up from his seat at the head of the table to hug us. His smile, big and white, and his face flushed from the heat. 

“We’re late,” Astrid points out. She speaks apologetically, but doesn’t actually apologise. “But we have your gift.”

“Oh!” He takes the gift bag from her and kisses both her cheeks. “This is so nice, my God, Astrid.”

I bought it, actually; the scarf made with some kind of silk mohair something-or-other, but Astrid picked it out, so really it’s she that deserves the credit. He’ll think she wrote the card too, even though she didn’t. I’m the one with the nicer handwriting.

“‘Dear Elias, on your twenty-first birthday,’” he reads as we join him at the table. “‘Here’s hoping for a year as fabulous as you are. I hope I know you forever, and we can party together at ninety-one too. You won’t need the scarf in Bali, but we hope it keeps you warm when you touch back down in Berlin next month. With love, Astrid and Jude.’ Oh,” he holds it to his chest. “You two are so sweet.”

“You are not supposed to say happy birthday unless it is a person’s actual birthday,” says Leon, swirling his wine around and pretending he can smell notes of bergamot, or whatever the server said was in it. He takes a sip, then sends the bottle back to the kitchen. 

“Oh, okay, sorry,” I say. “We should have posted the card to Indonesia. That was really stupid of us, you’re right.”

His nostrils flare while Jonas, next to him, peruses a menu.

“Wow,” he comments, “Forty seven euro for the monkfish. It seems expensive.”

“Well, it’s an occasion,” Leon says, as the server returns with a second, hopefully more acceptable, bottle of wine. “We all agreed to eat at a nice restaurant.”

I raise my eyebrows, “Oh? What occasion is it?”

“Elias’ birthday, of course, what are you-” he breaks off to mutter to the server, who then circles the table to fill our glasses. 

“I thought we just agreed not to mention the birthday until the actual birthday, which is not today, right? What date is it, again?”

Dalia sighs from her end of the table. “Jude, oh lord.”

Leon rolls his eyes. “You are being immature.” 

What’s actually immature is a twenty-six-year-old man making an unnecessary enemy of someone who still has the word ‘teen’ at the end of their age, but Dalia is already kicking me beneath the table before I can open my mouth to point this out.

“I would love to see Bali,” Astrid sighs. “When it’s so cold like this, I feel I can’t stand it. I just want to be somewhere nice and warm.”

Elias smiles. “Well, maybe for your twenty-first birthday, your boyfriend will take you there.”

“Well, we’ve just booked tickets to Amalfi, actually,” I say. “We’re going in April.”

“Oh, I love Italy.”

“Me too,” Astrid clutches his hand in hers, a gesture of excitement in their shared love of, whatever, gelato or something. They converse about places they’ve been, and what they’ve seen, using the correct, Italian pronunciation, which is fine, because that’s how they’re supposed to be pronounced, and Astrid is fluent in Italian, but sometimes when I’m privy to conversations like this, I think of Jen, and the way she’d laugh if she ever overheard them. 

Whenever a natural gap opens up in their conversation, I consider adding in my own anecdote about the time I went to Rome on a school trip when I was sixteen, and the school was cheap, so they made us do the whole journey by bus, which was so boring that Fitzy and I started squeezing dollops of toothpaste into people’s hair as they slept and posing alongside them with our two fingers up. Our punishment took the form of the teachers revoking our passes to St Peters Basilica, so while the others were in there, taking zoomed in photos of Michelangelo’s tiny penis, we spent two hours roaming the streets in search of a Dominos Pizza, which we did eventually find. Mine slipped out of its box and onto the pavement before I had even taken a bite, and we posed for photos with our two fingers up next to that, too.  

But I know that if I tell the story, and Elias won’t react the way I want him to, but gasp, and look very sad as though it’s a tragedy, and then later, Astrid will ask me why I decided to share the story in the first place, because it was kind of awkward. When Elias asks me if I’ve been to Italy before, I simply smile, and I say no. 

“You will adore it, then. Will you hire a car?”

“I suppose we will, right? Makes sense.”

Astrid nods. 

“Well, then, if you’re staying in Amalfi, you might as well drive to Sorrento. Leon and I once stayed in this incredible hotel with a sea view. I can find out what it is called.”

“Oh, please.” Her thumb strokes the back of my hand. “We could add one or two more nights to our trip, do you think?”

I smile. “Yeah, of course we can.”

He tells her about a restaurant that does gnocchi in such a way that is notably different from other gnocchis in the region, and they continue, even as the food arrives. Tiny portions. I forgot the name of what I ordered. 

Across the table, Leon and Jonas listen as Dalia talks animatedly. 

“Right, and then, the woman, whose name is Martha, by the way, turns to me, and she says-”

She is halfway through a story that needs more context than what I have. I open my phone. 

Jen, just thinking about our school tour to Rome lmao.  Oh my God - the one where the teachers caught Ashling Duggan hiding you under her bed in the hostel? Hahahahaha yes!  I still tell people about that trip, like, it’s always my go-to story with new people.  Same, we’re just at dinner now, talking about Italy. I was just remembering all the stupid things that happened.  And didn’t Cian Hayes shit himself or something??? I’m always foggy on that specific detail. Yeah, and he turned his underpants inside out because he was too lazy to get out of bed. 

Omg sick. What do your friends think of the story?

My thumb hovers over the keyboard. 

Yeah, they laughed.  Show them that compilation of photos of you and Fitzy with all your sleeping toothpaste victims.   Oh, God, I don’t have those anymore. I think I left all my photos in Dublin.  What a waste! I’ll go dig them out someday, and take them with when I come to Berlin.  Okay! Come soon, please. I miss you. 

I miss you too, Judie. It’s honestly so weird that you have a whole new girlfriend I haven’t even met.   I know. It’s weird for me too, but you’ll love her. She’s amazing.  I bet. She’s beautiful. Understatement.  I don’t know how you keep pulling it off.  Well, I’d be stupid if I didn't go out with her, wouldn’t I? Yeah, probably. Lucky you aren’t stupid, then. 

Beginning // Prev // Next

[howlingmod]

Hello mod, may I request something cutesy for Skateboard x reader?

summary - skateboard x reader, reader is from blackrock and is described as being a little bit messed up from it (not detailed)

misc - hi i seen this request and got so excited i love skateboard ... 1million tripmine attack go

-Skateboard hadn't really been looking to make any new friends when he'd stumbled onto you. It'd been late at night and he was dead tired, having spent the entire day in the blistering heat of day. He was really just looking to go home when he'd seen you.

-It wasn't uncommon to see people lost in Playground, especially people from other regions. It was less common to see someone frantically pacing back and forth with a stuffed full suitcase and what was very obviously a Blackrock-style uniform talking about getting hunted for sport.

-Initially, the uniform had put him on edge. He phights Subspace and Hyperlaser all the time and he's seen plenty of people from there pass through Playground, and it wasn't often they had good intentions. There was something different about you, though, your panic didn't seem manufactured to draw someone in, it felt unnervingly genuine. Blackrock isn't exactly known for letting its residents easily slip out whenever they want. if you really were some kind of runaway, you definitely had reason to be freaking out.

-Against his better judgement, he approached you.

"Hey man, are you ok?" Skate asked cautiously, taking a few steps closer to you. He kept his distance, he wasn't sure what kind of gear you might have and he wasn't looking to phight right now. Your head had whipped towards him the moment he'd stepped into the alley, wide eyes darting over his figure. He certainly didn't look like the type to be affiliated with the faction. Besides, to be entirely honest, an alley was a pretty terrible place to hide. For any Blackrock authority with an itchy trigger finger (most of them, you noted bitterly), it was the perfect place to solve a runaway. "Hello...?" You blinked, remembering he'd asked a question. "O-Oh, um... Yeah I'm- I'm fine," you stammered, hastily smoothing yourself out and ripping your eyes away. Any attempt at looking casual was soaked in anxiety. "Right, Right," he didn't believe you at all, "You mind telling me what's up then?" You kicked at the ground a few times, scuffing up already worn workboots out in an attempt to shake your nerves. You couldn't meet his eyes for more than a glance. "I'd rather not." Skate paused for a few moments. Maybe it's exhaustion talking, but you really didn't seem like much of a threat. If you were trying to bait him into getting close, it seemed counterintuitive to be acting so guarded. This didn't feel like an elaborate scheme, it just felt like a genuine moment of crisis. Before he could say anything, you spoke up again. "Listen I just- Do you need something? I really don't know why you're talking to me." You were struggling to keep your voice firm, but you couldn't afford to let your voice wobble over the edge and into tears. "Hey, just calm down. I wanna help you, ok?" This could have been a stupid move, but he took another few steps closer, one arm holding his board and the other raised in a show of pacifism, "I'm sorry if I was freakin' you out with all the questions. Do you have anywhere to go?" You bit the inside of your cheek, mentally debating if you really wanted to put this onto a stranger. On one hand, it was just humiliating for you. On the other, it was a risk, he might be playing nice now but he could sell you out in a heartbeat. "No." "Alright, well how about you come with me?" He was quick to clarify when you glanced at him, "You can stay with me until you find a place! Or, I could try and find some hotel nearby, I guess ..." He trailed off, talking more to himself than you. Part of you was screaming to run the other way, as far as you knew this guy had you totally figured out and was ready to use the situation to get whatever it was he wanted. He could blackmail you, rat you out, ruin every chance you have at a new life. You can't just pick up and keep running if he tries anything, this guy was clearly from here, far more familiar with the bustling city than you were. Despite all this- "Please."

-It was a pretty long adjustment period. Skate was a little too casual and open for your paranoid mind to comprehend and you were a little too guarded and mysterious for Skate to trust you fully. You were so unfamiliar with Playground's culture, the lively and crowded atmosphere was a stark contrast to the utilitarian lifestyle you were accustomed to. There was little you could do other than try and bully forward.

-It was the little things that made Skate warm up to you. You always insisted it was out of politeness whenever he'd confront you about how nice the place looked or how there was leftovers for him when he got home. You would get wrapped up in something and you would start talking to yourself, walking through all the different steps and alternatives in a long ramble under your breath. Despite the exterior you were putting up, there was clearly some life to you yet.

-Sometimes he would tease you about it, but he was surprisingly strategic. He'd annoy you just enough to get you to glare at him and then back off for a while, returning the favor by bringing home snacks and takeout for the two of you in an effort to draw out more of that humanity. Besides, you could really use the food. The day he noticed most everything you made for yourself was just whatever used the least amount of resources was the same day he shoved most of his portion over to you without a word.

-Neither of you really noticed how you opened up to one another. Slowly you two stopped sitting on opposite sides of the room until you spent nights laying on one another watching bad tv. Admittedly, he might've gotten the first hint at his crush for you the first time you fell asleep on him. Sure, it was just plain cute, but it meant something more knowing it was you, the same person who used to run off to go eat by yourself every night and stuck to the corners of a room.

-He noticed your quirks become more apparent, little references and phrases he'd never heard before suddenly littered your every word. You spoke more openly, though you still had a tendency of not talking unless he said something that absolutely called for it. He didn't mind, he was usually the more chatty one in his friendships anyway. He just liked getting an excuse to tell you about all the phights he's been in and all the (more lighthearted) things his gang was up to. At some points, the lines between fabrication and reality in his stories blurred for whatever reason. He didn't mind that either, so long as you were laughing or drawn in by what he was saying.

-You weren't into the idea of phighting yourself, it was just a little too much for you. Besides, even the idea of seeing Hyperlaser or Subspace again on the battlefield of all places made your stomach churn. Instead, he'd just gotten you into play wrestling with him. You were stronger than he'd been expecting, though he probably should've known you would be considering your background. He didn't have to take it easy on you, only really holding back for the sake of not breaking anything.

-It was cliche, but there was some time where you'd won and managed to shove him down and keep him there and all the admiration he' been building up for you overflowed and left him looking up at you with some dumb grin. You were smiling back, something you'd only recently really started doing again. He liked to think it was because you were comfortable here with him, you would agree.

"Hi." "Hey." He laughed again, a nervous habit you often poked fun at, "You're really pretty, you know that?" You'd burnt up at that, laughing a little yourself as you stared down at him, "Where's this coming from?" "I dunno, just been thinking it." "You're weird." "Do you like me weird?" You snorted, halfheartedly swatting him one more time before pushing yourself back up. "Of course." "That's good, I like you weird too," the moment he'd finished his sentence, you were already pouncing on him again.

[disappearenceofsomeone]

[SECOND PART HERE!!!]

small note!!!: I am…. bad at characterising!!!! or at the very least, just bad at portraying characters accurately , so take every action these stupid sillies do with a grain of salt (it’s a first time for me !!!! hopefully it’ll be better the next time I do this!!!!)

SPECIAL THANKS TO MY POOKIE OF ALL TIME @egotisticalweirdo FOR HELPING WITH DIALOGUE BECAUSE I KID YOU NOT WHEN I FIRST SENT IN MY DRAFT TO THEM THEY TOLD ME AUGUSTINE SOUNDED WHITE AS HELL 💀

OHHHH MY GOD IM FINALLY DONE!!! AUGEIWHSKSJA IM GONNA CRY IVE NEVER DEDICATED THIS MUCH TIME FOR A PROJECT LIKE THIS… AT ALL… IM SO NOT USED TO THIS!!!

anyways I’m gonna ramble about past self’s bad decisions here BECASUE I KID YOU NOT I WAS KINDA BEATING MYSELF UP AFTER THE TWO WEEKS THIS TOOK !!!! WHY DID I THINK I COULD GET THIS DONE WITHIN TWO WEEKS THATS INSANE… so uh yeah this took a month because my motivations can only last that long before I get tired of doing the same thing!!! 

another thing! I am notoriously bad at keeping an artstyle! so if some scenes looks wonky or coloured weirdly or just different altogether, you can blame past me for somehow never taking note on how they did things. ALSO I DONT JNOW WHY THEYRE SHADED DIFFERENTLY!!!! I never got the memo of making things consistent oops that’s gonna be smth to work on…

anyways!!! Im still very happy I got this done!!! it sucked ass after the first two weeks but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t excited to post this!!! I hope you guys enjoy!!!! I am sweating bullets as of typing this I do hope people like this

[jumpingjoltiks]

Would you consider writing some enemies to lovers with Emmet or Ingo? 🥲

YES!! I WOULD LOVE TO.

Dearly Detested

Pairings: Emmet x gn!Reader

Warnings: None :)

You and Emmet have known each other since you were both in school - Rival Classmates

While you're both equally intelligent and passionate about battling, you have better social skills then he does. and it pisses him off.

No matter whether he beats you in a battle or not, your classmates still side with you. It isn't fair!

In your mind, this uppety jerk has been far too blunt with you. He's insulted your battle strategies, insisted that bug types (ugh, ew!) are the best, and has generally been a pest demanding battles from you.

Thankfully, once you're old enough, you're able to part ways and go on your separate journeys. You both breathe a sigh of relief at never having to see the other again.

Cut to many years later, you've just started work in Nimbasa, and who do you happen to see on a local billboard - surely it couldn't be that smug bastard and his shithead twin?! No way they're so successful!

Oh you have to beat him in battle.

You pick out the strongest members of your team and start to challenge the double lines.

It's... much harder than you expected. You're not used to double battles, but you're determined to knock that stupid grin off his face.

Emmet, meanwhile, is very satisfied watching his old rival get their team knocked out again and again.

When you finally reach him, he's almost impressed. Almost. But he can't help rubbing it in your face a little.

"I am Emmet. You have spent a long time getting to my car. Do not worry. This will be your final stop."

You're so angry that you let it get to your head, and you lose. Badly. All of your hard work and here you stand, humiliated.

"What a shame. I expected better from you. But you know, in a Double Battle, if you misread one thing, the rest will be totally different. Please win 20 battles in a row, and fight with me again."

You're going to kill him. You're actually going to kill him.

The next time you come through, you have a new strategy. It works well for you. You work through his team methodically - this time you won't let your emotions get the better of you - and you come out victorious.

"Not bad! That was a verrry exciting battle. It was fun! The next time you challenge me, I won't lose."

Your ire has been cooled by your victory. Despite yourself, you find that challenging the subway has been the most fun you and your team have had in a while. So you go again. And again.

Your battles with Emmet are always new and exciting. You try to come up with as many interesting strategies as you can, and you can tell he's doing the same. You challenge each other. It's fun to have someone who can keep up with you.

Emmet has been keeping an eye on you during your battles. There's a lot you can tell about someone from the way they fight with pokemon. You're different then how you used to be - smarter. Nicer too. You treat your team so well, even when you lose you're never upset with them.

Over time, bitter banter makes way for a certain playfulness between you. You've been fighting for so long that most of the bad blood between you has been washed away with the flow of time.

One autumn afternoon, you're buying popcorn for a flick at the local movie theater, and who should happen to saddle up beside you but the subway boss.

"Look what the purrloin dragged out! Didn't realize you ever left the tunnels."

By wild chance, he's here to see the same movie that you are. You sit together because you know each other and it's convenient. Definitely not for any other reason, you tell yourself. Certainly not because you're friends.

When it's over, you still have much of the afternoon left. You could go home, or...

Neither you nor Emmet want to part ways quite yet. What a difference from how you used to be, when you couldn't wait to get away from him. You spend most of the afternoon together, walking through one of the local parks and just talking. It's nice. You have more in common then you thought you would.

Perhaps this could be the beginning of something wonderful.

Thanks for reading 💕

Emmet happy that he won and reciting his script vs Reader wanting to gut him

[arkieve]

1977, Christmas break. Regulus had his first kiss behind the greenhouse at their school two weeks ago. With a pocket full of coins and a stomach full of weights, he learns how to use a phone box for the first time–clutching a piece of paper with a phone number on it. All just to hear James’ voice again. One last time before the year ends. | wc: 582

It’s nerve-racking listening to the ringing, waiting for his call to be picked up. He sways back and forth, white-knuckle grip on the phone, thumb between his teeth as he waits. 

Regulus keeps an eye out on the cobblestone street, irrational fear that the passers-by will somehow know he’s doing something he shouldn’t and report back to his mother. 

A few feet over, Mr. Kreacher leans impatiently against the sleek black Rolls-Royce. When he notices that Regulus won’t be coming out anytime soon, he, too, engages in a covert activity–fishing a pack of cigarettes from his inner jacket pocket and lighting up. It almost eases Regulus’ nerves and makes him smile.

“Hello?”

Regulus jumps at the sudden voice–one he doesn’t recognise. Older, masculine–James’ dad. Shit, he hadn’t rehearsed for this.

“Hello?”

“I–Hi,” Regulus cringes. This was stupid, he feels stupid, and he can’t feel his nose; the tips of his fingers are tingling from the biting cold. “Sorry, I’m just go–”

There’s another, rather weaker voice that joins in on the other line. “Who is it?”

Oh. Regulus recognises that one, and so does his heart, apparently, from the way it threatens to leap out of his chest.

The conversation on the other end is muffled, and then there’s some shuffling before things become clearer.

“Regulus?”

His heart goes pitter-patter, pitter-patter, pitter-patter. The heat in his cheeks should be enough to defrost the windows of the phone box.

“James.”

“Shit, it really is you,” he sounds excited, breathless. More shuffling and he settles, breathing out a sigh that sends shivers down Regulus’ spine.

“So,” James’ tinny voice calls over the line. “What are you wearing?”

Regulus allows himself the blush that covers his entire face and he knocks his head against the glass window to his right. 

“Oh, you know,” he mumbles, playing James’ game to the best of his abilities, “the usual.”

“Ah,” Regulus can hear the stupid smile on his face, “my favourite.”

“Shut up, you’re just saying things.”

“I’m not! I like everything about you, so I’m not lying, not really.”

Regulus thunks his head against the glass again in response, biting his lips so hard it hurts. “Shut up,” he mutters.

“I miss you,” James says without missing a beat, and Regulus needs him to stop, or at least give him a minute so his heart can slow down. There are only so many times he can hit his head against the window before the lady walking her dog, who’s taken a special interest in his peculiar behaviour, intervenes for his sake or he, you know, drops unconscious. “I really miss you,” James repeats, as if once isn’t enough.

“I miss you too,” comes Regulus’ reply, and it doesn’t scare him how easily those words come out of him, nor how much he means it. “I really miss you too.”

“Then I should hurry back, shouldn’t I? Can’t leave you there all by your lonesome.”

“No,” Regulus pouts, and then he remembers himself enough to stop pouting, but not enough to stop himself from saying, “you can’t. So you better hurry.”

“I’m on my way, love.”

Love. Love. Love. Love. Lovelovelovelovelovelovelove—

There’s a knock against the glass door of the box. “Hey, kid! Knock it off with all the banging will ya!”

Regulus startles, struggling not to drop the phone before cradling it to his chest, frozen as he watches the man leave him to his horror and James’ awful cackling on the other end of the line.

[glisten-inthedark]

I think the most exciting thing about Byler for s5 is that by episode 1 any Byler doubts for Byler fans should be assuaged

The moment Mike shows romantic interest in Will, we know.

I truly believe that the Duffer Bros will not kill either of them off. For one thing, they are well aware that that will be the bury your gays trope and will look and be extremely bad. Especially if they were to reveal Mike as having feelings for Will and then kill him off, that would be extremely egregious. Then they’ve said that s5 is a Will-centric season, that the show is going to come full circle, we know Noah cried during the final episode table reading and both David and Charlie framed it as a heartwarming thing not as a sad thing when talking about it so I think it bodes very well. Also, like I think you’ve said (?) Hopper’s speech in s4 about everyone he loves gets hurt essentially gives the Byers + El plot armor, because any of them dying now after that would be like confirmation of this in Hopper’s eyes and potentially push him away from the Byers “for their safety” and make him feel like he’s the black hole in their lives.

So, the second that we see Mike harboring feelings for Will or pining after him or any 👀👀👀 interaction where Mike is being weird, or flirty, or suspiciously shy, or flustered, or any obvious or even fairly subtle but notable instance of him behaving like he’s pining after Will,

We know. Byler doubters out there, we’ll know! And I’m so excited for that moment to happen!

[additional staving off the Byler Doubt note]

It would also be incredibly stupid and make absolutely no sense if they were to reveal Mike as having feelings for Will, and then pair both of them with some random person or put Mike back with Eleven after making it clear that he does actually have feelings for Will. Like them deciding to stay friends or Will going “actually never mind I moved on you and even though you, my best friend, and the previous love of my life are now confessing to me or pining after me, I’m going to set all my sights on this new random dude”

The moment we see Mike pine for Will in s5 it’s all over

Hello!

Ok, Tumblr has something against me because I spent like 5 minutes writing a response and this little shit just refreshed and I lost the entire thing.

Firstly, oh yes! The moment we see Mike pining for Will, it'll all be over. I understand some people might be concerned over logistics or timing or the love speech or how people might perceive the time and all of that, but I know the writers can use so many things to their advantage to show that the story was always meant to be this one.

Truthfully, I can't imagine a world where they'd kill either of them, not only because they know about the bury your gays trope, but because of how deeply they made Will feel towards Mike - which is also why I can't conceive them giving him some random dude to fall for when they could have done this last season and it'd be much more feasible -.

Because at its core, Stranger Things is and always will be a love letter for all of those who were outcasts, for those who were treated differently for things outside of their control - whether it was their race, their gender, their appearance, or their sexuality -. And we know what some people claim, what they say about being in the 80's and blablabla.

But imagine the message it'd send: "You know that boy who believed he'd never fall in love? Well, he was wrong. And you know that boy who thought he was a mistake? He is wrong - he is not a mistake for liking other boys -. And you know that boy who tore his heart out because he didn't believe he could ever be loved back? He was also wrong, he was loved back. He is loved back. You know that boy that didn't think he'd get a happy ending? He was wrong, he has it now".

This isn't just a message for those who grew up in the 80's, is a message for general audiences and for anyone else who tries to tell LGTBQP+ children and teenagers that happy endings aren't meant for them.

I could go on and on about how the UD might signify the Shadow (Jung) or even ourselves as a society about how the monsters besides representing puppetry are representations of things within ourselves we refuse to touch on but that's another story for another post lmao.

My point is, that killing either of them would just further solidify things that I truly feel they are trying not to cement in their own show.

And the crazy thing about the whole "another random love interest" is that it makes no sense with the story even they set up. From the scripts, is safe to assume Will has had feelings for Mike since he was at least 13 years old (probably even before then), and we don't even have to look at the scripts to know that. We can assume so due to how far he was willing to go to make Mike happy.

I was talking to my friend about it and I realized that the van scene is Will's "Little Mermaid" moment. To clarify: Little Mermaid was written by Hans Christian Andersen and was supposedly meant as an allegory for the feelings he harbored for another man who by that point was married to another woman. Is Will sacrificing his own voice, his own fin, and his own feelings - turning into sea foam - just so that Mike could be happy.

I said it before and I feel like a broken record for reinstating it, but the writers themselves made it clear that Will truly loves Mike. Is not an infatuation, is not a crush, is not limerence, it is unconditional love. He said it himself, that he'd always need Mike aka he'd always love him. He was willing to sacrifice himself and his feelings for him - and sure, we could argue that he could stand to learn to be a little bit more selfish - but the essence of what makes love true is that it isn't selfish, is that is willing to let the other go.

So presenting someone else - especially when they could have done that already and not have Will be this deeply in love with someone he feels he can't have - would be so shallow and frankly stupid after everything they have set up.

I always joke that if Byler is queerbaiting, is the stupidest case I've ever seen because why would they put so much detail, thought, care passion, into it if it'll amount to Mike going right back to where he was before and for Will to end up with someone he can't love as much as he already loves Mike. How is that fair to him?

Anyway, I get passionate about this - as if you couldn't tell already lmao - so I'm sorry if I got sidetracked.

I hope you have a great day and (:

[bomberqueen17]

how the writing is going

Ok so. LOL. About the only thing I am effectively achieving this week *is* writing, and even that is not really..... I don't have a draft. But I have a whole bunch of sample snippets I've written to try and feel my way through the worldbuilding and discover the sorts of things the characters are likely to be preoccupied with, which is often how I figure out what a plot should be.

The next thing I thought about after dolphins was modes of transport besides sailing ships.

So this is a fairly high-tech society, but they do not have fossil fuels, and they don't have a large-scale power grid. I decided that for aesthetics, but as I'm unpicking my plot, I'm realizing that it makes sense. See, the main driver for all my plot devices is that there's a lot of sun activity-- sunspots, coronal mass ejections, magnetic field anomalies, that sort of shit. A power grid could not survive on a large scale. So all power generation is done in small, local installations-- some very local indeed, panels on rooftops, little waterwheels, tiny wind turbines. Industrial-scale power is generated in hydro plants and used right at the site for hydro-powered manufacturing-- much of it direct hydro-power, not converted to electricity. Just direct drive waterwheel shit. Because the sun can throw whatever shit it wants at the planet and your waterwheel won't notice or care.

That said. Communication over long ranges does pose a significant challenge. You're going to need line-of-sight semaphores and shit, which I had not worldbuilt in the earlier versions but absolutely could add in.

There should be trains, and I haven't really pondered those yet because I need to know more about my geography. Please, god, don't make me draw a map, but I'm gonna have to. Oh well.

But the other thing I thought of and got really excited about was

DIRIGIBLES

It's feasible with technology we currently have, and this is a thing that some large companies are pursuing, to make very large, hydrogen-filled, entirely solar-powered dirigibles for long-distance cargo transportation, faster than ships, the same speed as trucks/trains but more direct, slower than airplanes but INFINITELY lower carbon footprint. And hydrogen is outlawed by the FAA as a lifting gas, not because of the Hindenberg (which had many contributing factors) but because of a Congressional hearing which was presented by the helium lobby in the 20s. Hmmmmm.

A fascinating detail is that you could make a solar-powered lighter-than-air craft operate day and night seamlessly by having a power generation process where some of the day's collected solar energy directly powers the thing, and some of it goes toward... I forget the details but it powers a chemical reaction that, come nightfall, is simply set to reverse itself, which will then release most of the energy that it took to power the reaction in the first place, which you can now use to power your aircraft. Which is not a thing I knew about and I now have to research how that would work because, fascinating.

Anyway. In Fantasy World, there are totally dirigibles, and they're also probably operated by the Navy, and the water-ship sailors fucking hate them, LOL. This will be a wildly entertaining dynamic and I am rubbing my little paws together.

Also.

While feeling sort of brain-dead and stupid, I got a sheet of paper, went through a bunch of lists of historic names and lists of like, suggested baby names from various ethnicities, and I just made lists on this sheet of paper of men's names, women's names, arguably gender-neutral names, and then a huge pile of surnames, and then I sat down with a bullet-pointed list cribbed from the website of the museum of the USS Constitution of all the personnel that would be on a 44-gun frigate ca. 1812, and I first pondered each of the jobs, added some, took some away, came up with my own numbers of how many guys I needed, and then I just sat there and combined the first and last names in aesthetically pleasing ways to generate characters, lightly crossing out ones I'd used. (and sometimes googling them to make sure they're not somebody famous or something, which i always recommend with fictional character creation, especially if you're as oblivious as I am.)

I was unable to resist also coming up with some backstories-- siblings, little work histories, criminal pasts, notable traits, that sort of thing-- for many of the characters.

I did not make up names for every individual person on this ship, which I decided should have a crew of about 150-180, but I made up some names for every position, and considered age and gender as well for all of them.

I will not use many of the characters I've created this way, I'm sure, but the ones with interrelationships will totally somehow get used, and this way as I'm writing if I need a character I can find them already made, and if that person has a defined role, I already know which one and won't lose track of them.

This also got me to consider why people wind up in the jobs they do in this society, what drives them to seek out certain things, and that gave me a lot of background as to what's going on onshore.

I should try to find a list of a dirigible's crew and think about them, too, and build out the train people and routes and whatnot.

I also bought a used older edition on Thriftbooks of The Annapolis Book Of Seamanship and have been reading that with... more interest than I expected actually. I have the 1983 edition and it has a really moving little plea to let the women on your ship also learn to sail because it is foolish to relegate them to the kitchen when if only they were taught how it works, they could save you all in an emergency. LOL I wonder if that's worded differently in the updated new version or not.

[slay00ryu]

AHHHH I LOVE YOUR WORK SOO MUCH

I was wondering if you could make a Ronin x devoted reader (basically the reader would do anything ronin tells them too. Almost like they worship him)

The Devil's Devotee.

»»————-　♡　————-««

Content Warnings <3

- Obsession

- Literally a fucked up reader

- Ronin ahh behaviour

You've been warned <3

»»————-　♡　————-««

You are in love with the Devil. The man who barged into your life one day and completely changed everything in it. He wanted to shape you into his little fallen angel, but he didn't expect that he would turn you into a demon. A demon devoted to the Devil like Christians are devoted to God.

You felt like you could do anything and everything for Ronin. Fulfill his every whim, his every desire.

And oh, did he use it to push you further and further into destruction. He wanted to see how rotten you could become, how low would you go just to earn his praise, just to hear the Devil's sweet whispers of demoralization to you.

<@goreboy>

come on darling paint Your hands red make Them match with the Devil baby

That was the first thing you saw this morning. A new challenge! A new way to gain Ronin's warm gaze focused on you, a way to hear his temptations. Oh, how ecstatic it made you feel.

You were in an alley. Dressed up in the colour of your lover's eyes. A knife in hand. Excitement filled you whole, made your heart beat faster and faster.

Oh yeah, you are at the point of no return. You are his rotten darling, he just needs to see it fully.

As you were walking around, your feet took you to the devil's den on their own, like they were under some kind of spell. A spell to guide you to your next victim. A man who was either too cocky or stupid for his own good, he wanted to be a living proof that purgatory wasn't dangerous.

Oh, how unfortunate he was that night.

There wasn't too much struggle, no running away. He wanted to scare you away, only to end up with his ribs crushed, throat open and face frozen in fear for eternity.

As you were admiring the fruits of your work, you heard someone's chuckle from behind. Steps left by heavy boots, and a sound of something metal dragged along the ground.

"My, my, what a sight."

It's him. Your Devil.

"To be fair, I was wrong about you."He was standing right behind you. "I thought that you wouldn't go this far, but hey! It seems that you had the guts to do it, and in my alley? Oh, how sweet of you."

You turned to him, his hand was outstretched for you, you took it and he pulled you up.

"Look at you, you made a mess even of yourself." He chuckled.

"You don't like pure things." You whispered.

"You're right. I don't." He whispered back. "That's why I love how messed up you made yourself for me. A little messy demon, just for me to see."

What a pretty gift the Devil's devotee gave him.

[lissa612]

It’s sorta crazy how a stupid TV show has been able to trigger my anxiety so bad, but it makes sense when I consider all I had been using my hyper fixation on it to distract myself from. Alas, my anxiety has brought back my insomnia which means I wake up sometime between 1am and 2:30am every morning and just MIGHT start feeling ready to fall asleep against around 5…When my alarm goes off to get ready for work.

But it leaves me a lot of time for random pondering. And this morning got me thinking of one thing that either pisses me off or gives me hope (I guess I’ll know eventually…)

They didn’t need a character like Tommy for Buck’s bi (? Maybe - That actually hasn’t truly been confirmed in canon 🙄) awakening.

This is going to sound a lot like some of the anti-Tommy talking points, but please stay with me.

It really COULD have been any good looking, cool guy who did it. Imagine Johnny, a 40yo adrenaline junkie sport type that Buck and Eddie meet during a big emergency the way they met Ali. Now unlike Ali, Johnny keeps it together during the emergency and like Ali helps them save himself and others. Could even make him a military man. Now they could leave this emergency all having one another’s numbers and something along the lines of 7x04 still could have happened.

Buck calls Johnny to see his fun exciting job/hobby, but Johnny is pulled away when Eddie shows up for them to go do something they’d already planned. Buck isn’t complaining to Maddie about Eddie spending all this time with the new guy, but it’s not the cool pilot she already knows about but the cool free climber or whatever they met on a call. The same conclusions are still met with the conversation. Maybe the basketball game isn’t strictly first responders…Chim doesn’t have quite the same idea what’s going on since he really doesn’t know this guy, but he gets that Buck only asked him to the game because Eddie was bringing his new friend. Things still go badly for Eddie’s ankle and Johnny comes to the loft to apologize. There’s no talk about the 118 family, of course, but perhaps some other vulnerability about friendships and a kiss. There’s a date that still goes to hell. There’s coming out to Maddie and Eddie. There’s the coffee meet up. They could still have Buck go balls to the wall and invite him to the wedding despite him only really know Buck and Eddie. Johnny wouldn’t go to the bachelor party and maybe he comes to the hospital, maybe he doesn’t.

Their relationship does what Buck’s relationships do when there isn’t much connecting the person to his teammates or the plots of the show. Bobby can only say that Buck seems happy and settled…He can’t pass judgment on a person he doesn’t know. And they go through the dramas of the 118 together until something triggers a desire for a big move forward for Buck…And the same sort of break up happens.

It’s sad. It’s probably still a bit offensive. But there was never any loss to what could have been brought to the show overall by the departure of Buck’s latest partner, even if he was new in some ways.

But that’s not what happened.

They decided to bring in an established character that could be molded into what they wanted. A firefighter. Better yet, a firefighter PILOT on a show about firefighting that could use some fresh emergency plot ideas. A character with history in the house that holds Buck’s family. With Chim and with Hen and even with Bobby if it’s not nearly as much since Bobby wasn’t his open hearted self back when Tommy was there. And Tommy wasn’t either.

So you have this character who is compatible with the job. He can make for interesting storylines outside of relationship ones. There isn’t going to be a lame break up because the job is dangerous. There isn’t going to be a betrayal based on their mutual prioritizing of work since they would both understand how the work needs priority. You have things you can explore putting the character in pairings with practically every other main and have it make sense.

All that potential by choosing to go with this character that fits so well to just NOT do any of it.

That’s the real loss I am feeling as a fan of the show from the beginning.

And yeah, I shipped BuckTommy and I had hopes for things I wanted to see between them because Buck is my favorite character and I love seeing him shine. I’m heartbroken by his heart being broken. I’m heartbroken because I saw all this potential that I assumed professional storytellers would also see and not squander. That assumption left me blindsided when it seemed they did squander it.

And everyone saying it was written on the wall - It wasn’t. Yes, Buck’s relationships always fail. That’s how things work - Relationships fail until one WORKS. And this one seemed like it should work. Unless you are watching through goggles telling you without a doubt Buck’s endgame lays elsewhere, there was no warning that this is what would happen at the 6 month mark of the relationship.

And it seems like a really dumb thing to do, to let go of such an interesting tool you have available to you as a storyteller. You didn’t have to make the character such an asset to you and the story.

Maybe I’m jumping the gun and they do have plans for possible stories in the future. Awkward emergencies with the 118 and 217 on a scene together for some reason that will use some of that potential. So maybe there is some reason to hope.

Or maybe it is just wasted. And I’m pissed as a fan of the show and as someone who feels emotionally whiplashed by 8x05 and 8x06.

I guess we’ll see. I refuse get my hopes up. Perhaps I’ll watch the show live tonight…Depends if being up at 2am means I’m exhausted by 6:30pm again today (I was only able to force myself to stay awake until 8pm last night). I’ll watch eventually regardless. But I’m probably back to watching the show the way I did before and how I currently watch Ghosts and Tracker…When I remember the show, I’ll binge what I missed. Or I’ll turn it on if I remember during the timeslot. It’s no longer must see TV for me that I will make plans around.

Anyway, done rambling…

[isaacarellanesismyhusband]

always you

pair: Louis Tomlinson x reader

summary: no one could replace y/n(she/her) , and he had been a fool to ever think they could

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Louis stared at the ceiling, his heart heavy with every beat. He had been everywhere—Amsterdam, Tokyo, LAX—but none of it felt right. No matter how far he went, how many cities he saw, he couldn’t escape the emptiness inside him.

“I went to Amsterdam without you,” he muttered to himself, the lyrics running through his mind, matching the memories. “And all I could do was think about you…”

He rolled over, grabbing his phone and scrolling through old photos of you. Smiling, laughing… home. He hadn’t realized how much he missed you until he was surrounded by all these people, none of them you. No one could replace you, and he had been a fool to ever think they could.

“I went to Tokyo to let it go,” he whispered, his thumb tracing the screen as another photo of you popped up. “Drink after drink, but I still felt alone.” He let out a heavy sigh, closing his eyes. “I should’ve known…”

Louis had tried running. From the pain, from the memories, from you. But no matter where he went, it was always you in his thoughts. Always your smile that haunted him, your laugh that echoed in his ears. He could see it in every face he passed, looking for a piece of you in every stranger, but no one compared.

“I went to so many places,” he sang softly to himself, his voice cracking with the emotion building inside him. “Looking for you in their faces… I could feel it, oh, I can feel it.”

His head dropped into his hands, frustration filling him. How could he have been so stupid? So blind? You had always been the one, and now, it was too late. He had let you go, thinking he could chase some high, some feeling that didn’t exist. But it was you. It had always been you.

“I’m wastin’ my time,” he admitted to the empty room, feeling the weight of the truth in his chest. “When it was always you, always you.”

He picked up his phone again, his thumb hovering over your contact. He had kept your number, always too scared to delete it, even when he thought he’d moved on. But now, he knew. He’d never moved on. He could travel the world, but home would always be wherever you were.

“Should’ve never let you go…” His voice was barely a whisper as he stared at the screen, debating whether to call you. You might not even pick up. It had been so long.

But he couldn’t go another day without trying. Not when he knew he had made the biggest mistake of his life.

With a shaky breath, Louis pressed call, his heart pounding in his chest as it rang. One ring. Two rings. Just as he was about to hang up, your voice answered, soft and confused.

“Louis?”

His heart stuttered at the sound of your voice. It was like coming up for air after drowning for so long. “It’s always been you,” he blurted out, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m sorry, I should’ve never let you go. I don’t know what I was thinking, but… God, I miss you. I miss us.”

You were silent for a moment, and he could almost hear your mind racing on the other end of the line. “Louis… why now? After all this time?”

“I’ve been everywhere,” he said, his voice breaking slightly. “But none of it mattered. I went from LAX to Heathrow, and nothing felt like home because you weren’t there. I’m sorry. I was chasing something, but… it was always you. Always.”

There was another pause, and Louis held his breath, praying you would give him a second chance.

“I’ve missed you too,” you finally said, your voice soft and a little broken, like you had been waiting for this moment as much as he had.

Louis exhaled in relief, a smile breaking through the tears he hadn’t realized were there. “I’ll make it right this time,” he promised. “I won’t waste any more time. It’s always been you, and I’ll never let you go again.”

“I hope so,” you whispered, but Louis could hear the hope in your voice.

“I’ll see you soon,” he said, his heart racing with excitement, the weight on his chest finally lifting. “I’m coming home.”

And for the first time in a long time, Louis knew exactly where home was. It wasn’t a city, or a place—it was you. Always you.

[starkspi]

From "Unadulterated Loathing" in which Charlie chains these two idiots accidentally together by @otsmosis (who made this comment at the end of the last chapter and inspired me to do whatever this is above)

[smallerdelusions]

Saw this post and wanted to contribute some art to @trigunbookclub! Only one month to go!

[a2zillustration]

August Baking 2024

Oreo Cakesters - 5/5

Genuinely impressed these turned out as good as they did because SOMEONE (me) used twice as much butter as necessary for the cookies. Can't wait to try this one again the right way!

Cinnamon Roll Sugar Cookies - 3.75/5

These taste good but they're so much effort to make. Just find a really good snickerdoodle recipe you like more tbh, unless you want cookies that look cuter.