#Also more than half the party is now under the age of 20

[0-0kappacino0-0]

Dnd Art: Sleep Pile 💤

A sketch of the party at current all coming together for a nap cause life is tiring and sleepy cuddle times can help one cope with that struggle (I would know I'm a ✨️professional ✨️ napper 😌👌)

(New Characters:-

Harengon - Luuki 🐇

Aasimar - Lia 👼)

[tomssexdoll]

Sexy scare

PAIRINGS: Tom 2012 x Female reader CONTENT: SMUT SYPNOSIS: Y/N goes to a really popular halloween party that's hard to get into, its full of musicians and Tom kaulitz happens to be there, you and him flirt and dance for ages before going into a spare bedroom and GETTING FREAKYYY A/N: cumming to this photo, there will be a bill version coming <3 WARNINGS: dom!tom, sub!reader, p in v (missionary), eating out, fingering

I was getting ready to go to one of the most popular halloween parties among musicians, my friend was in a band and was invited to play there. She asked me to come along cause she knew how much I loved Tokio Hotel and they were also going to be playing there.

I was dressed as a sexy witch, basic but it worked. I wore a short and skimpy black dress with fishnets, platformed boots and a cute witch hat. I did my makeup and my hair and ran out to door to the car.

"Are you excited?" she chuckled, I looked at her shocked "excited? girl? im more than fucking excited i'm extatic" I shook her shoulders, she chuckled and started the car, driving to the party.

"I am so glad it's not BYO drinks, I would've died" I sighed, walking into the secluded party. Our friend gave the bouncer a code word and we got inside, Tokio Hotel was playing and I gasped, grabbing my friends hand and running to the stage. I pushed through a bunch of people and stared up at Tom, admiring him as he played his guitar, his tongue slightly out and little beads of sweat forming on forehead. I bit my lip, my heat slightly burning.

"Fuck he's so much hotter in person.." I whispered to her, "even with that scary ass costume?" she furrowed her eyebrows, "oh of course! I'd fuck him either way!" I said a little too loudly, sparking his attention.

He looked over at me, staring at me subtly, I instantly shut up, super flustered. He smirked and looked back down, continuing to play his guitar. "Holy shit...did you see that.." I turned to her, my eyes super wide. She nodded and raised her eyebrows up and down in a suggestive way.

"Maybe you'll get lucky" she nudged me and I chuckled "I hope..fuck..the things I'd do to him.." I sighed.

After they played it was my friends turn, her band had arrived earlier to discuss some things. They set up on the stage and started to play, I was cheering for her and jumping up and down, giving myself more attention.

I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned around, the one and only Tom Kaulitz was standing there and was WAY taller then I imagined. I looked up at him and smiled nervously, "oh hi..did you want me to move?" he chuckled "no liebe, come with me" he grabbed my hands softly and pulled me with him, walking to a more secluded spot.

He sat me down at a couch in the corner of the building, placing a hand on my thigh. "So..I heard what you said before" he smirked, I felt my cheeks get super hot and I stumbled on my words "i-i.. yeah.." I giggled nervously.

"Don't be nervous.." he pushed a hair away from my face, "tell me about yourself, hm?" his eyes were so dreamy, even with the scary makeup my panties were SOAKED.

"Well..I'm y/n..22 and I'm here for my friend, she's playing right now" I smiled brightly, pointing to her. He chuckled "you have such a beautiful name, supporting your friends like that is amazing, I wish we had that support when we started our band" he frowned slightly.

I chuckled softly "but look at you guys now, everyone loves you" he shrugged "yeah I guess so, I can you love us the most" he winked and I CAVEDD. The power he had over me was dangerous, he was so fuckung hot and literally put me under a spell.

I bit my lip and we continued to flirt back and forth for another 20 minutes. "I can't believe I missed like half of your songs" I frowned, he picked my chin up "it's fine baby, we are gonna play again next week again you can come back, I'll make sure you're on the list" he smiled, I gasped "really? fuck thankyou so much!" I reached out and hugged him tightly, I felt his hands snake around my waist, focusing on my ass a little too long, giving it a little squeeze.

"Do you wanna dance?" He smirked, I nodded quickly and got up, grabbing his hand and running onto the dance floor. By now everyone was dancing and super drunk.

I started to dance to the music, Tom coming up behind me and holding my waist. I swayed my hips and went low to the floor.

As the beat dropped I started jumping, my hair flying around and getting messy. I heard Tom chuckle and I turned around, smirking and wrapping my arms around his neck, swaying my hips again.

He reached down and held my hips, pulling me in closer, his lips ghosted over mine, the tension building and the air becoming thicker. I turned around again and started to grind on him, his lips finding my neck and kissing it softly, his beard softly tickling my neck.

His grip tightened on my hips, bringing me closer, rubbing his hard on, on my back. I continuined to grind on him, my arms resting against his.

"Let's go somewhere private" he whispered sensually in my ear, his hot breath making my hairs stand up on my neck, I followed him as he took me into an empty bathroom, it was filled with graffiti and stickers from past performances. He picked me up and sat me on the bathroom counter, smashing his lips into mine. I kissed him back passionately, grabbing the back of his head and locking ourselves in a rough embrace.

"You're so fucking sexy" he muttered into the kiss, I smirked and unbuttoned his flannel, pulling it off and the shirt he had underneath, revealing his fit and toned body and my jaw hit the fucking floor.

He smirked "you like what you see?" he toyed with my dress, pulling the zip down slowly, I took it off, revealing my black lace thong and matching bra. He groaned and cupped my breast, squeezing it softly. His lips crashed into mine again, I pulled him closer and he rubbed his erection against my clothed pussy softly, I moaned into the kiss, tugging on his dreads. His hands found their way to the back of my bra, clipping it off and revealing my boobs, nipples hard from all the teasing.

"So hot..fuck.." he got onto his knees and I scooted closer to the edge, lifting my legs up and spreading them.

He ripped my fishnets where my pussy was and moved my thong to the side, "fuck..so perfect.." he placed a soft kiss on my pussy, my breath hitching, "mm.." I moaned softly "keep going.." I sighed in pleasure. He wrapped his arms around my legs and pushed his face into my pussy, licking my sensitive clit gently.

"Holy shit!" I moaned loudly, his pace becoming quicker, licking and sucking my clit rapidly, removing one of his arms from my leg and plunging his fingers into my wetness, stretching me out with his 2 digits. I groaned, trying not to close in my thighs on his head.

I threw my head back in immense pleasure, his tongue swirling so perfectly on my sensitive bud, his fingers moving in and out of me so gracefully. He curled his fingers on my g spot, brushing against it softly.

I groaned, a knot forming in my stomach and coiling to my core, signalling my impending orgasm. "G'nna cum.." I cried out, he smirked on my pussy and thrusted his fingers in and out harder, feeling your body tighten around him.

He looks up at me, his eyes dark with desire and full of lust, "cum for me baby..let it all go" he whispered against my clit, with one last thrust I moaned loudly, my orgasm crashing down and washing over me, shuddering as my juices coating his fingers.

He slowly pulled his fingers out, detaching his lips from my clit. He smirked and licked the slick off his fingers, his hand grabbing his erection on his pants. He came closer, taking off his belt and pushing his pants down, pre-cum leaking onto his boxers. I bit my lip and pulled his cock out of his boxers, gasping and looking up at him.

He was a solid 7 inches, girthy and veiny, I whimpered at his size, how the fuck was it going to fit?

He was grinning, his makeup slightly melting off around the mouth, he grabbed my thighs and allinged himself with my entrance, slowly pushing in and stretching my hole more, I groaned, every inch agonizing.

He was about half way in when I put my hand on his chest, stopping him for a moment, "hurts..too much.." I pouted, looking at him. He grunted, "i'll make it fit honey..just relax.." his fingers came down to my clit and rubbed softly, my muscles relaxing on his cock. He let out a small sigh of relief and pushed in, the thickest part of his cock now entering me.

"Just a bit more liebe.." he whispered into my ear softly, comforting me from the pain. Finally he bottomed himself out, pulling his cock back out and then slamming it back in, creating a pace.

I moaned softly and my hands flew to his shoulders, gripping tightly and his cock pounded into me.

"Shit!" I cried out, his tip kissing my cervix, "so tight..fuck.." he muttered, gripping my hips tightly, leaving marks. I felt his cock so deep in me I swear it was in my throat, it felt so good, his length constantly ramming into my g spot, making me roll my eyes back so far.

"So good..mm" he moaned softly, pounding in and out of me cruely. "Fuck!" I groaned loudly, digging my nails into his shoulders. I leaned upwards and kissed his neck, sucking softly and leaving marks.

He groaned as I found his sweet spot, sucking the skin softly. He leaned down and started to suck my nipples softly, taking them in between his teeth and biting them gently, I arched my back at the painful yet pleasuring sensation "fuck.." I moaned softly, wrapping my legs around his waist and dragging him in closer.

"You're so beautiful..fuck.." he groaned, smashing his hips into mine, the sound of slapping skin taking over the room. I felt my stomach tighten, signalling my awaiting orgasm. "Fuck..cumming.." I managed to blurt out, all the pleasure was hitting me all at once so I could barely form more than 4 words. "Cmon, cum for me, you're doing so well" he praised, that sent me over the edge and I came hard, my orgasm crashing down severley and causing me to cum all over his cock.

The intense clenching of my pussy around his cock sent him into his orgasm too, squirting his hot cum all over my walls, coating them completely. As I came back to my senses I realised how fucked up both of our makeup was, basically all of his was destroyed from sweat and eating my pussy and mine was smudged all over my face. As he came to clean my pussy he chuckled "i guess that's where the blood went" pointing to my pussy, mixed with grey makeup and fake blood, I giggled "jeez, didn't know you went that hard."

He picked me up from the counter and helped me get dressed, I had no choice but to try and fix the ripped fishnets, he saw me struggling with them "sorry..I guess i got too excited" he scratched his neck, a little embarassed, I smiled and kissed his cheek "that's fine, they were like 2 dollars anyway" I rolled my eyes playfully "cmon let's go dance again" I grabbed his hand and we walked back to the dance floor, drinking and having fun.

[fizzingwizard]

Randomly visited reddit and saw this:

My first thought: it's an incel pretending to be a woman, because what modern woman thinks she's spoiled milk a 30??? (Aside from also trashing her girl friends - girl, get better friends!) But their profile doesn't seem weird in any way, so, I guess there are some people out there who really somehow believe youth ends at 29. Even some who have aged past it.

It's not even true that all 30 year olds are less beautiful than they were at 20. People age in different ways at at different rates: yeah, your likelihood of getting wrinkles and gray hairs is only ever going to go up. But some people don't have their style figured out in their twenties - some people turn thirty and freaking bloom. And you can't call that a late bloomer. 40 isn't a late bloomer either! 20 is nice but it's not the heaven on earth it's cracked up to be, and 30 is just getting started.

Idk about the rest of you but you know those posts about how embarrassing it is to look back on 14? Yeah, related to those when I was 20. Now I've passed the big 3-0, and guess what - I think 20 year old me was so silly lol. So insecure, so afraid to make mistakes, so resistant to change. I enjoyed my twenties, but my early thirties have so far been way better: I'm more confident, less self-involved, and I find happiness so much more easily than I did back when I thought everything I did had to matter So Damn Much. And if you think that doesn't relate to being attractive: confidence is 90% of it. Just walk up and smile. A confident, happy person always attracts others even if they're just average-looking.

Also for people who like men, don't forget: men in their 30s usually aren't quite the energizer bunnies they were in their 20s when it comes to ~sexy times~ The 20-year-old stud who insisted he could go for a roll multiple times a day, every day, is probably much less gung ho at 30. And also more forward-thinking, and less amaaaaazed by omg boobies!!! When you're young, half the excitement is just how new everything is. It gets less intense, thank goodness. (But it's still hot!)

This post just totally rubbed me the wrong way. It read as a still young woman anxiously wringing her hands in apology for having the audacity to be single at... 30?? And apparently not trusting women to have good advice about dating at 30 (so no point in me responding to her, lol), but perfectly comfortable kissing up to incel mindsets such as "women past 25 should accept that they're sloppy seconds" etc. "Value as a partner" do you have intrinsic worth as a human being?? Yes??? Then your value does NOT degrade. Yeah, you might have gray hair, the horror, so unsexy (I've had very visible grays since I was 23 and been dyeing since 26 lmao). Doesn't mean you're less hot than some 20 year old who doesn't know what she's doing. Doesn't mean it'll be at all hard to find a partner who will love you warts and all. Do you have this same expectation of men? Are you gonna start dating a 30 year old dude and then complain that he gets tired more quickly than a 20 year old would?? Is he less sexy just because he doesn't party all night and drink twice his weight without effect? Overrated overrated overrated!

My parents divorced in their 60s. My mom's got a new boyfriend who takes her dancing under the full moon. They're living their best lives way past their so-called "prime" and no, that is not rare - it's just a choice. If you view yourself as having some expiration date, you're not gonna do anything to improve your happiness once you're past it. Don't let incels or misogyny or whatever convince you your perfectly wholesome milk has gone bad, because that is a self-fulfilling prophecy.

ETA: Well, while I was working this got 150 notes, and although that's barely a drop in the bucket, it's still a lot more than my rants usually get (about 2 lol). So I just want to clarify a couple things so I stop getting comments about them.

This post was from the askmen subreddit. I left that out, feeling "reddit" was context enough, but I guess the implications may not have been obvious, especially to tumblr users who don't also use reddit. Askmen isn't a horrible place (a number of the responders pointed out why they prefer older women to younger ones), but many of its members have a pretty incel-adjacent vibe. Plus there are a number of women (real or not) who post there, many of whom have a similar brown-nosey "unlike those radical feminists, I'm a woman who knows her place" attitude.

It's fine to suggest the OP may have internalized misogyny from being abused - but it's not a given, as nothing in the post is a definite indication of abuse by itself. Big kudos for the compassion - just keep in mind that my response was about general attitudes towards dating post-twenties and not about abuse victims.

To the person who thinks a relationship of six years makes a difference somehow?: You seem to have interpreted my post as an attack on people who feel insecure about returning to dating after a breakup. But I think it's clearly nothing to do with that. Of course it is natural to have anxieties about being single after so long, but nowhere in this post was that denied or mocked. Whether you've been together one year or six, this post would always be weird - those natural anxieties don't make misogynistic mindsets about decrepit 30-year-old women any less gross. If you had decided to write a reaction to the OP's post, perhaps you would have chosen to center it on the effects of coming off a long term relationship, and I'm sure it'd be insightful. However, I am not you, and I chose to react to the attitudes around aging in relationships reflected in the post.

[hyewka]

୨୧ things i plan to write, currently writing, and all other similar updates.

status: all wips listed under are on pause (08/3/2023)

๑ full fics.

— ★ camboy! [c.sb]

catching your innocent, sweet naïve best friend in a compromising position…in front of a camera is not how you thought you’d be celebrating his birthday.

warnings: sub soobin, femdom, anal play, nipple clamps, soobins a virgin, tears, degradation kink, centers around purity culture

progress: 30% [1.4k]

— ★ can i be your boyfriend? [c.bg]

you think after giving beomgyu the most emasculating, humiliating sex known to mankind, he’d know his place and leave you alone. to your dismay, it’s the complete opposite and now he seems to be ten times more obsessed with you than he already was. [part two to boyfriend]

warnings: bratty sub!beomgyu, soobin & reader have a thing, mentions of infidelity, pet play (barking, going on all fours, collar), degradation, mean femdom, praise kink, nipple play (m receiving), use of a flesh light, dacryphilia

progress: 65% [3.2k]

— ★ untitled [c.bg]

it's been a year since you've properly talked to beomgyu, distanced from him due to being in a relationship. now, you're single, broken up with your boyfriend a few weeks back and the realization dawns on you— you painfully, and utterly miss your best friend. striking up a conversation with him at a mutual friend's party in hopes of rekindling your relationship shouldn't have taken such a weird turn.

warnings: tipsy gyu (overall drunk sex), sub leaning switch!gyu, sloppy makeout, blowjob, angst, reader isn't usually dom and gyu isn't usually sub so there's that background info, pull out method, quickie

progress: 10% [0.7k]

— ★ love me p. 2 [c.bg]

progress: 3% [0.4k] — scrapped and restarted 😭

— ★ white t’s [c.bg]

stoner sub beomgyu. piercings. and a goody two shoes mc.

progress: 20% [1.1k]

— ★ possibility of a million (and its consequences) [c.bg]

unreasonable ego and a pain in the ass smartypants, mansplaining asshole is the only way to describe beomgyu from psych 101. you’re not too surprised he’s a prude and also the most virgin-virgin you’ve had the (dis)pleasure of meeting. but like how all beginnings begin, one drunken night and you find yourself in a bed with the person you truly cannot stand for more than thirty unsupervised minutes— and holy fuck does the events from last night hit you like a brick with a dooming realization. you took the virginity of choi beomgyu.

progress: 87% (4.6k)

— ★ night after night (ibfyr) [c.bg]

the number one rule of having a hot roommate is to not fuck them— and well, you’ve broken that rule more than you could count (high libido call for desperate measures). but at least none of you have feelings, and don’t have to go through the mess that is dating the person who shares the same lease as you. too bad a confession during a fuck flips everything on its back. just give him seven days and beomgyu swears he can convince you to give dating (him) a try.

warnings: soft dom gyu

progress: N/A

— ★ younger, hotter [k.th]

you’re convinced that the new (younger, more efficient, more charismatic) hire at your division is there as your replacement due to the numerous layoffs your company has been officiating. it takes one wrong misguided initial impression to conclude that kang taehyun might just be the first person you’ve ever considered a mortal enemy.

warnings: sub!tyun who usually doms, noona kink, semi public…sort of (sex in a public bathroom’s stall), fingering (f receiving), desperate simp tyun for pussy bcs yes, unsafe sex, pullout method, just the tip trope, mc’s a complete bitch unprovoked, heavy degradation kink, use of ‘boss’ during sex, specific age difference not mentioned

progress: 15% (1.2k)

★ number of fics: 8

๑ series.

— ★ intro to love 101 [c.bg + c.yj]

you don’t believe in the concept of love. someone you consider your other half is the complete opposite. beomgyu falls in love every other week, and god does he love hard. with that comes a million heartbreaks, boxes of tissues, and your hoodies drenched with his tears and gross snot. you cannot bear to see your best friend hurt again so, you do the genius thing and create a step by step guideline on how to not fall in love the minute he's provided with attention. it should be easy, you are his best friend and practically the number one pessimist when it comes to romance. all he has to do is strictly follow through.

parts: five

— ★ to stardom [ot5]

managing your fuck buddy’s band and all its complications.

parts: six

๑ drabbles. (includes asks)

— ★ perv gym rat taehyun

— ★ spitroasting with soobin and kai

— ★ yandere bsf!yeonjun

— ★ beomgyu first time (anal play)

— ★ switch hybrid yeonjun

— ★ freshman!taehyun x junior TA!reader

— ★ sub taehyun

— ★ childhood friend sub!hyuka

— ★ expansion on perv!beomgyu + perv!soobin

— ★ beomjun threesome (might be a full fic)

— ★ sub! yeonjun + oral fixation

— ★ enemies to ??? w/ secret femboy!yeonjun (might be full fic)

— ★ best friend taehyun with virgin reader (might be full fic)

— ★ phone sex w/ beomgyu

[eslanes]

𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕙𝕠𝕝𝕥 𝕗𝕒𝕞𝕚𝕝𝕪

So I got this story stuck in my head, a little spinoff about Faelern going home to Chestnut Ridge for the first time in 20 years due to his father being sick. It would follow his homecoming and explore relationships within his family and get into why he was away for so long. I don't know if I'll ever get time to flesh this out in game but I got inspired and made his whole family.

I had fun doing the family reunion challenge a while back so I did another one. Check out under the cut if you're interested in who's who and a little more about our ever-gloomy Faelern.

Faelern Adan 'the prodigal son' - Leaving home at a young age due to strained familial relationships, Faelern spent most of his adulthood immersed in his studies, obtaining a doctorate in Anthropology and becoming the youngest tenured professor in his department at the University of Britechester. As touched a tiny bit in A Devil Between Us, Faelern spent several years happily married to Laelia, who was tragically murdered during a home invasion 12 years prior. Evidently this devastated Faelern and he hasn't been the same since. This also may be a contributing factor to his intense and chaotic relationship with walking disaster Ms. Aida Fairbairn several years later. Faelern is the third of his father's children.

Sicheii Holt 'the patriarch' - While much calmer in his old age, the eldest member of the Holt family was once a notorious womanizer, creating an extremely tense relationship with his now-deceased wife and mother of Faelern's siblings. This only increased when it was discovered that one of his affairs resulted in a child (uh oh). Exponentially so when said illegitimate child was sent to live with Sicheii and his family after the sudden death of his mother at the age of five. While Sicheii was a generally a good father, his transgressions definitely impacted the family, creating complicated relationships all around (hurrah). At the beginning of the spinoff, he would be severely ill, resulting in Faelern's homecoming.

Atsa Holt 'the golden child' - Atsa, the eldest of Sicheii's children, adored his father from the time he was born. And Sicheii adored his son, spending most of their time hunting and fishing together. Everything changed when Atsa was eight, when younger half-brother Faelern came to live with the family and ruined his idyllic childhood. Atsa blamed his brother for his parents' fighting and shattering the vision he had of his father. Instead of focusing his anger on Sicheii, Atsa turned his resentment towards his half-brother, letting him know he was an enemy and would never belong. As a result, the boys were never close and fought frequently. As an adult, Atsa continues to carry a major chip on his shoulder and does not acknowledge his brother as kin. He is furious that Faelern had the audacity to show his face in Chestnut Ridge. 

Emmaline Holt 'the gossip queen' - Emmaline is Atsa's wife. Much more outgoing and cheerful than her husband, she's often the organizer of family gatherings and parties (she's always knows all the good gossip). Having never met her newly-returned brother-in-law, Em cannot believe that Atsa would treat him so poorly after being away for so long. Between me and you, Atsa will be sleeping on the sofa for a while. 

Jacy Holt 'the wild child' - Atsa's and Emmaline's 9-yo daughter. Twin sister to Mato and the loud one of the two. You'll usually find her annoying her father or on the playground with her friends. 

Mato Holt 'the bookworm' - The quiet, bookish twin and Atsa's constant reminder of his half-brother. The kid is exactly like his uncle Faelern in his interests and demeanor, much to his father's dismay. Mato would much rather be reading in his room than socializing. 

Tallulah Holt 'the dutiful daughter' - Tallulah is the eldest sister, a no-nonsense, tough as nails matriarch with one son of her own. While not particularly close to her half-brother as children, she feels a deep sense of duty to her family and is angered that Faelern would turn his back on them for so long. She has her hands full at the moment, trying to parent the rebellious and surly teenaged Kai as a single parent all while managing her 17 mlm businesses. 

Kai Holt 'the rebellious teen' - Kai is going through a major rebellious phase. The 16 year old has discovered hair bleach, Nirvana and his mother Tallulah at her wits end with him. 

Tahoma Holt 'the jokester' - The running joke in the family is that youngest brother was named after his father's beloved pickup truck (true). Tay is loud, boisterous and the family goofball. A contractor by day, he spends his nights at open mics across the region workshopping his comedy routines, with big dreams of becoming a comedy writer. Unlike the elder siblings, Tay doesn't remember life without his half-brother, and is actually happy to see him again.

Doli Holt 'the baby sister' - Doli is the youngest Holt child by many years. Currently working as a receptionist, Doli has dreams of going to university in the city, just like her older brother, whom she hasn't seen since she was a kid. Having been born after Faelern arrived in the family, Doli only has good memories of her brother. 

Auntie Deborah and Uncle Des Holt 'the elders' - Auntie Deborah and Uncle Des are known as well-respected healers in the community and stable and a positive influence on all the kids. That said, now that they're all adults Des won't stop trying to push his homegrown weed on his nieces and nephews. Tahoma says it tastes like burning hair. 

[rjthirsty]

Rhodolite, Monogamy, & Polyamory

If you've played Ikemen Prince, you're aware that there are 8 half-brothers under one former king, all born within a 12-ish year timespan. That's a lot of women to be boinking and impregnating. And while it's totally feasible (cue the guy that had 36 kids from multiple women within 20 years or some wild shit), it brought into question what Rhodolite's marriage and relationship status quo was.

The former king only had one queen, Chevalier's mother. But judging from the estimated ages of all the guys, she was still alive when Leon was born, and his mother was also a noble woman. And considering the time that Leon's mother was still around when Yves was born, that would leave two sets of two noble women both married to the king, with children, at the same time period. Leon states in his route that the king had "other wives and other children" which meant that while not formally accepted or ascended to the throne, they were still his "wife" and not mistress. Meaning we can conclude that the king had multiple marriages whether for political reasons or personal, not all the mothers were mistresses. This really only applies to the mothers that were noble in some way, because Clavis' and Luke's mothers were not involved with the king except for conception, and we know Jin's mother was married to the king. Licht and Nokto's mother is a little bit of a mystery, and while I have guesses, I'm not going to make a call on that at the moment.

Now, this could be summed up as a translation issue since English and Japanese have different ideas for words that mean similar things. Maybe the women were "lovers" or concubines of some sort; the king would have a harem of women to produce sons, and all would be elevated to the royal court in some fashion, but only one was crowned queen. This is entirely possible. The problem is that in English when we try to label what sort of position this is, it comes with many negative connotations such as "mistresses" being secret lovers with no status, or concubines being considered sex and pleasure objects with no regard to the person, just the symbol. So we don't have an easy, equal alternative to label a woman that sits in a position of authority but is not a "wife". This is honestly a failing on English more than anything, imo. The way women were considered property for so long is seen in the terms we have for them.

But enough with all that depressing talk, let's get on to the REALLY interesting thing. Monogamy NOT being the norm.

It is never explicitly stated that monogamy is expected or even normal in Rhodolite. I admit, when I was reading the story for the first time, and even nearly two years into the game, I had been coming at it with the perspective that monogamy was normal and expected, because just like heteronormativity, monogamy is considered the "normal" thing and thus never questioned. But this is literally never brought up in the game.

I thought the game was just very sex positive in the way everyone's sleeping with everyone else. I thought they were depicting nobility as having sex parties because that's just what they did. (I don't know, I hated history and don't look into it. Tell me that drunken orgies were the norm and I'd say okay!) The way that Belle and one of the dudes would end up in sexy times sometimes outside of an actual relationship was refreshing and while it still came with the "I can only fuck people I love" from Belle's perspective, I thought it was still nice for it to not be a wait until marriage or forever after.

But what if it wasn't sex positivity? What if it's just not a big fucking deal to sleep with people because monogamy isn't the status quo? The only time monogamy comes up is treated more like exclusivity. It's hot because it's possessive-lite, but it isn't "we're a couple, you can't sleep with others", it's "I'm the only one that gets to see this" which means that it isn't a rule so much as a desire and possessiveness that needs to be stated. And that's kinda cool, when you think about it. In the way it is being presented, there doesn't seem to be a negative relationship with sex outside of a committed relationship. I'm all for that.

Monogamy is cool for those it works for. But open relationships, poly relationships, and anything else out there is also cool for those it works for. And it's just nice to see that being (silently) established as normal without having to make reasons or excuses for it. Even combing through all the event stories I can recall, I don't think there's one time that someone said, "I'm married, so I'm not interested in sex." And while that is easy to overlook because monogamy is expected in our (US) society, the absence of it is something to note, and could lead to monogamy not being expected.

In conclusion, I've decided that all relationships are valid in Rhodolite, and while other countries might not have the same freedom, I'm going to put it into my fanfics and headcanon for my country of many princes.

[hermesgoestojuvie]

do you have any permes hcs or fic ideas?

oh anon u have no idea what you've unleashed. the permes fic ideas are all i have some days, alas, im not that accomplished at the whole idea to words transition as i wish i was. i'll go into a few more concrete ones under the read more

Quick note: So like. All the things I plan to write happen when he’s 18+. and there's no sibling or parent incest. (bringing that up cause i got an. interesting dm once.) So this is just a quick disclaimer of sorts. And I’m not hating on anyone who wants to write or read something dark! I mean for instance I have a time travel Percy/Hermes brainworm that is considered dark and probably not what a lot of people want to read, so i'll tag it as such.

The One Where There is a War

Explained a little more in detail here but I have no problem talking a little about it again. It was inspired by this one perpollo fic that I'm still looking for so I can link it, bc trust me, it is GOOD. (edit: FOUND IT!!!! HERE it’s by @ghost-bxrd)The premise of that fic was a war between the gods and demigods, and my fic is meant to draw from that as well as some elements from Lore by Alexandra Bracken. It takes place post-second Giant war, but I'm toying with the idea of having the war and all related events, like gaea's rising, happen when percy is maybe 19-20? I'm not sure yet though. I might keep the timeline as is instead. For now, just know that it is post-second giant war.

Anyways, the premise is the new war the demigods have waged on the gods, when Percy, already a conflicted party to the war, comes across an injured Hermes when he is separated from his group of scouts.

2. Warning: Untitled For Now But It Is The Dark!Hermes One

you ever read child surprise by aphroditesfavorite or the breezeblocks series by violetmoreviolent?

Both are perpollo, and while I've not caught up to child surprise (i'm two chapters in, its been in my marked for later for a while, and ive had the tab open for ages, i just keep getting distracted lol) i know that it does deal with a time-travel trope, with percy, post-second giant and titan wars, waking up in the past, the day athena and poseidon compete over athens.

from what i hear, where child surprise is perpollo, there is a dark, forcecful hermes scene, which is absolutely not meant to be shippy btw! i heard from a friend who has gotten farther than me that the aphroditesfavorite has also stated that the shippy comments received about that hermes scene has made them uncomfortable so like, dont go reading it for that guys please.

breezeblocks meanwhile has a take on dark!apollo, a more ancient apollo, in a way. an apollo that you remember IS an olympian and all that may entail. i actually have caught up with the latest updates, and it takes place in the present. i dont want to go spoiling, but I will say that like, the way its all unraveling and unfolding is just so interesting, im high key invested.

@ashilrak and @mrthology have also written an absolutely heartbreaking, gutwrenching, exceptionally glorious banger of a fic, HAUNT ME, THEN- that also really captures the otherness and ancient, almost older, aspect of the olympians.

anyways, the reason i bring these fics up is because i just really love the idea that percy was born from the sea, while also acknowledging that one of my favorite parts of the whole book series in the first place is percy's connection to mortality and to his mother. reading child surprise really was root of a lot of ideas of percy emerging from the saltwater fountain in athens at the time of poseidon and athena's competition, with the idea that the trip to the past coincides with unwanted percy's ascension. it is not the birth of percy jackson the demigod, but in half, percy jackson the deity (the other half near coming to fruition in tartarus before he forced himself to stop.)

all that^ was just a very long way to say, this fic, im not sure WHAT it is yet, or where the direction its going in is, but we have established permes in the modern era, the time slipping happens when percy is struggling with keeping his impending ascension at bay, and then percy deals with a hermes at his like. prime? if thats the word. having to reconcile that with the softer versions they know later.

3. The One I've Been Struggling With

i'm just gonna copy/paste some stuff from my outline, like just the first two pages. this is the most concrete fic wip i have lmao. its all very rambly bc thats how the process goes for me so sorry abt that! anyways, starts below:-

an au that is not modern times, but perhaps in the past? Ancient Greek times? So more “ancient greek minded hermes.” Or if you think there is a better alternative, that would work too, I’m all ears. Trickster god Hermes (which he is) and minor immortal(?) Percy.

i dont know what percy's situation is yet. need to figure that out

i was looking at a comic and thought, trickster god Hermes would definitely pull something like this on Percy. And then I thought, what if, trickster god Hermes, sees this one man (Percy) and falls in love with him. But this man seems to pine for a woman who doesn’t love him back, and so Hermes takes her shape. (I don’t know who this woman would be. Annabeth? It could be her, but I also love the bond Percy and Annabath have in general, she and him are incredible friends. Rachel? I loved her friendship with Percy too.)

Anyways, Hermes taking their shape made me laugh a bit because wow Percy is getting catfished by a god. And then I was like WHAT IF- Percy himself is a minor immortal like. A young nymph-ish type. A prince of Atlantis? A demigod turned prince of Atlantis? I am not sure what he is, but, I am going to use nymph as a placeholder until I figure this out. 

So sure, Percy is immortal, newly or otherwise, but he’s young and still not fully like, aware (I don’t know if that's the right word) about what it means to be immortal because he literally was born 20 years ago, which is normal mortal young man age. And Percy is like, “I’m as old as them and I want to live as them. I was them.”

His father is protective of course, he is aware of the way of the gods and how they chase pretty people. Poseidon warned him about gods, how they come and go, how he should never fall for one because loving one usually ends in tragedy or heartbreak- that to them hearts are easily won by tricks and discarded as easily. (Thinking again: mortal Percy turned immortal by marrying/mating with Hermes? Except, then I thought, Poseidon wants Percy to be immortal–if he thought Hermes showing interest and Percy reciprocating would allow for Percy to choose to be immortal he would probably begrudgingly allow it. So then….immortal Percy? Need to think)

The big Hermes reveal is when Percy is attacked or injured, or some other god shows up, and Hermes saves him but reveals his true form in the process. 

BACK TO THE PLOT!!!

Hermes was like, I will have this nymph, and that is FINAL. And Percy is kind even though he is not necessarily always NICE, (it may be ancient greek but new yorker percy is timeless) he's sweet and cares so much. he’s a hero and so loyal. he's brave and mischievous and genuinely good, and Hermes is just. Blown away, by the way Percy loves, so deep and it consumes you, to be the one Percy cares for, Hermes thinks there is no feeling like it.

Hermes tells himself that Percy can't possibly be deserving of mortal love. So what if golden haired Annabeth (placeholder for now, still dont know if we're going the annabeth route?) is a warrior who can run like the deer and loves the very woods Percy does. No, he needs a god's adoration, a force to be reckoned with at his beck and call to fulfill his every whim the way Percy himself makes others feel. If people would be loved the way Percy loves, everyone would be a god. 

I am laughing at Hermes taking the shape of Annabeth while talking to Percy, but also using the moment to talk up Hermes. Like if Percy is in his starry eyed about Annabeth phase, Annabeth wanting to have a sit down would be so exciting for him, and Hermes as Annabeth would be petty enough to be like lemme proselytize about myself, “have you heard of the great wonderful god Hermes?”

Percy being like, “Yeah my dad tells me every day, stay away from these people and then gives me a list of gods, why?”

Hermes immediately pissy

Percy is still talking, “so yeah Hermes is on the list too- why, Annabeth? Did something happen? you look...not well. Are you sick?”

Hermes, through gritted teeth, “with all due respect to... your father, I think you should hear about the god Hermes because he's not... whatever it is your dad said.”

Percy: Well, apparently the god Hermes fixates on pretty people and tries to get into their pants using trickery.

Hermes as Annabeth: CHOKES

Hermes-Annabeth: THAT IS SUCH SLANDER. I have never.... ahem, i have never heard of that about the god Hermes

^That was the first two pages. there's 11 more of me realizing writing is hard and i have commitment issues. but hopefully i finish at some point bc this is the fic ive poured some serious time in!

anyways, that was the three main fic ideas ive been tackling. i have had more that i immediately forget about, but just know, i can think about them all day!

[arbitrarygreay]

Biddy Math

When a Biddy nears death and eventually dies, Alder takes those years back. (There is no sign in 1x3, 1x10, 2x1, or 2x8 that this strain is redistributed to the other Biddies when one of their own is injured or dies. They only take on stress that is directly inflicted upon Alder.)

Therefore, the bare minimum requirement for the Biddy program is that if one Biddy dies, Alder will not die just by taking on those years. Assuming an equal sharing of Alder's life force (not necessarily a safe one to make, given that the Marshal's setup is so different), then this means that Alder doubles her physical years when a Biddy dies. Therefore, the number of biddies is defined by what is half of life expectancy, plus some number of buffer years so that Alder isn't on death's door just from losing one Biddy.

Delicious numbers, analysis, and graphs under the cut. Click through to see exactly which years Alder probably increased the number of Biddies over time! Now with bonus "how much is Alder drinking" potshots!

To decide some things, we can bypass life expectancy at younger ages, because those numbers are the product of mortality rates, which include causes of death other than old age. Because in the Biddy process, people proceed directly to old age, we can look at life expectancy for people who already survived to that old age.

x = Alder's total age n = Total number of people sharing life force (number of biddies plus 1 for Alder herself) Alder's physical age = A = x/n L = life expectancy (most probable age of death) s = safety buffer L-s = Age at which a person is expected to still live for another s years L-s = The age Alder will become if a Biddy dies = 2A = 2x/n

For Life Expectancy numbers, I looked at the Human Mortality Database. Here is the full citation:

HMD. Human Mortality Database. Max Planck Institute for Demographic Research (Germany), University of California, Berkeley (USA), and French Institute for Demographic Studies (France). Available at www.mortality.org. See also the methods protocol: Wilmoth, J. R., Andreev, K., Jdanov, D., Glei, D. A., Riffe, T., Boe, C., Bubenheim, M., Philipov, D., Shkolnikov, V., Vachon, P., Winant, C., & Barbieri, M. (2021). Methods protocol for the human mortality database (v6). Available online (needs log in to mortality.org).

For most all of the datasets I looked at, "Expected to live 5 more years" correlated to a ~10% mortality rate (that 1 in 10 people of that age died that year). So a 5 year safety buffer seems reasonable.

So, for example, I look at the US females dataset. I go to 2019 (the year the show started, and also to avoid the influence of the pandemic). In the dataset, the age at which they are expected to live 5 more years is 89. This is our (L-s) term. So, the physical age that Alder is safe to be at in 2019 is at most 89/2 = 44.5. (Lyne was 40 in 2019.)

If we assume that Alder was 18 years old when she signed the Salem Accords in 1692 (in order to codify conscription age to match hers), then in 2019 she is 345 years old. When we divide 345 by 44.5, to see how many total parties need to share those years equally, we get 7.625, which rounds up to 8. And well well well, that makes for Alder and 7 Biddies. Eliot did his math!

Something Eliot didn't quite do his math on, though, is his claim in After the Storm 1x3 that Biddies only tend to last 5-6 years. In 2019, Tally (somewhere between 18 and 19 years old) picking up 44.5 years upon getting Biddy'd means that she was physically…somewhere around 63 years old! In the US, 63 year ladies could expect to live another 23 years, to age 86! In order to get back down to the "less than 6 years to live as a Biddy" range, we would have to assume that the stress of military combat and also Alder's alcoholic liver would lop off another 17 years from their natural life expectancy. No I am not going to research how muchFine, let's find out how much Alder is drinking in order to destroy 20 year old candidates in 5-6 years.

Found an online calculator that cites this study:

Westman J, Wahlbeck K, Laursen TM, Gissler M, Nordentoft M, Hällgren J, Arffman M, Ösby U. Mortality and life expectancy of people with alcohol use disorder in Denmark, Finland and Sweden.; Acta Psychiatrica Scandinavica; April 2015

For a person to start drinking at age 63 and shorten their lifespan from 86 to 69 years, Alder is pounding at least 9 doses a day (but that would also only be enough to kill one Biddy! do we need to multiply that by seven...). Per NIAAA, a dose is 0.6 ounces of pure alcohol, which averages 5 ounces of wine and um only 1.5 ounces (a shot glass) or less of liquors like whiskey.

Alder famously ends up downing both of these glasses in this scene.

Sarah. Sarah. How many fucking doses is that, Sarah!? ("the height of two fingers against a regular sized glass is about 2 fl oz", so these glasses are probably "neat" pours, and she took 4 ounces in the Petra scene, and 2 ounces above. But we also know from Tally that "she loves her wine" and probably has it daily during at least breakfast with Anacostia, if not also at all other scheduled meals.)

...Okay, crack tangent over. Biddy candidate age speculation! Well, we started this whole thing with the assumption that when Alder takes back her years from a Biddy, she basically becomes Biddy age, with 5 years ahead of her (matching the expected years of service that Eliot quoted, eh). Which means that, really, Biddy candidates following that pattern should just be Alder's physical age? Whomst 44 year old Biddy candidates lmao. And even if we include that extra 10 year buffer for Alder's alcoholic liver combat stress, the standard Biddy candidate (looking forward to only 5-6 years of service) would just be whatever is 10 years younger than Alder's physical age. In 2019 that would be at most 34 years old, not anything near conscript age.

Here's another analysis angle, because why not: If we assume that Alder is actually frozen in time and only the Biddies are ageing for her, then 7 biddies are ageing 1.143 years for every year. So they need to actually have 6 years left in them to live 5 years of real time. With that conservative 5 year estimate, the Biddy that died in 1x3 (in 2019) became a Biddy around 2014.

Going back to our mortality tables, in 2014, the age at which a US woman would have 6 years left is 87. If we just lop those 10 years of stress, 77. The age at which they would have 16 years left is 71, which demonstrates how causes of death not of old age like alcoholism come into play a lot more the younger we look. Or there's also a survival bias at play. But it would be real awkward if someone had a genetic/health issue where they would naturally die in their late 60s/early 70s, so they keeled over right after getting Biddy'd. I'm sure the candidate screening process is mostly about avoiding that. Still, in 2014 less than 2% of 71 year olds died, so.

Working backwards to lop off the 44.5 years of Alder's life they're carrying, then the recruitment candidates for that Biddy could have been anywhere from 26-31 years old (with the 10 extra stress years). If we don't, then back to the 40-47 year old range. So yes, Anacostia could have maybe been a viable Biddy candidate, at least on age alone?

The way these are all probabilities means that the stars might align to maximize the longer lifespan of an individual against the age at which they were recruited. If they were playing it real safe and going younger, then a Biddy could serve for 10 years before succumbing to old age. See again how Tally could have had multiple decades ahead of her as a Biddy. That doesn't seem to be the norm, if Eliot is saying that 5-6 is the expectation, but maybe Biddy lifespan increased over the years as life expectancy for the elderly rose.

Here's where it gets…tricky. The Human Mortality Database is very fastidious with their data, and it turns out that most nations didn't keep/take very good records before 1950. The US data set doesn't begin until 1933, which means that I need to look elsewhere for the 200 years before that. The UK and Scotland are obvious choices, given the surname Alder. UK data begins in 1922 when they began merging the various realms of the Isles, which is why the Scotland data actually ends in 1930, when it got folded in. After that, it was mostly finding any European data at all that exists before the 1920s. I picked England+Wales and France, as both made it into the mid-1800s. And finally, the earliest dataset HMD has is Sweden, which somehow went back to 1751. As with the US dataset, I grabbed the oldest age for every year at which the remaining life expectancy was at least 5 years.

This is where I ran into some issues. You can see in the graph above that the Scotland, England, and Sweden data all show a rise in the life expectancy 60 years before the US, France, and the UK do. This is likely due to sampling bias in the older data, but I still have to decide what to do for this analysis. From the graph, you can see that I just averaged the England and France data to split the difference, and it looks like a plausible trend to the US data. Besides, the amplitude of the difference is only a 5-10 year spread, which gets divided out to a couple of years difference per Biddy, which is then well within natural spreads of lifespan. When I perform the calculations to get Alder's physical age from these estimations, it remains quite stable between the 40-45 range.

At any rate, I strongly suspect that Eliot may have looked at the same datasets as I did, because the earliest data point is, as said before, Sweden in 1751. In 1751, Alder would be 77 years old. And what is the life expectancy with a 5 year buffer for 1751? 77.

It's hard to imagine that Alder would have let herself become 77 years old as an active combatant, particularly as we know she looked like her 40-something self crossing the Delaware and when she created the Mycelium after pushing the British back, which according to 1x8, took place around 1735, when she would have been 61. If she had just one Biddy that year, with an even life force split she would have been physically 30.5.

If we go back to that Sweden dataset, the calculated death age for people between 18 and 40 is fairly stable between 60-65 until the 1800s, is that way in France until the late 1800s, and those numbers are likely a lot lower in a much less established region like the Americas. Alder herself would have seen that in the people around her, so it would make sense for her to take on the Biddy program fairly in advance of that. I wouldn't be surprised if she set up contingencies in her 40s, in her 50s at the latest.

(An alternative theory, given the wonkiness of some lore claiming that the Biddy working was shared in exchanged for the Cession in the 1830s when Alder was already over 130 years old, is that Alder used other means to prolong her life before getting Biddies, such as whatever made her be linked to Fort Salem's fauna and flora, not to mention the fact that when she lost all of her Biddies she turned to wood, not dust. Those seem to be separate workings from the Biddy program, and given that alder trees typically live between 60 to 80 years, some reaching 100 years, then the need to switch over to Biddies around then makes sense.)

But finally, what you're all actually here for: a graph of Alder's physical age and when she would have to increase the number of Biddies over time, as influenced by changing elderly life expectancy over time. (Note that if she indeed did not get Biddies until the 1830s, then she went from zero to 4 Biddies at once.)

[lemonsrosesandlavender]

Hello! Can I ask for 12, 16 and 20?

12. how does receiving or not receiving feedback/support impact you?

Oooh! So, I’m certainly capable of writing fic without much of it - when I wrote for Ambition: A Minuet in Power, I inaugurated the fandom tag, and still sit at 4/9 fics in that fandom. Three of those fics have one or no comments, and none of them have above 33 kudos. But the developer’s reaction to my first fic really did cheer me on. I submitted it for their Fanart Friday (*I didn’t know the usual “no sharing with creators” boundary about fic at the time) and they shared it very happily! That definitely encouraged me. Being in a small fandom, every comment and kudos meant a huge amount - but also I was just obsessed with that game and needed to let it out somehow. (I also plotted out a whole isekai “18thC Ludovico with modern Yvette” fic, but at that point I got really into sewing so I never wrote it).

I guess I sit in the camp of being able to create with very little to no feedback, but for longer projects I’m certainly sustained and fed by it. I love writing Planar Tears and desperately want to reach the plot points that I’ve dreamed of for myself, but knowing there’s some enthusiastic comments round the corner does help motivate me through the stickier bits. Getting a nice comment or reblog makes me so happy!

Also, (and this is a shout-out to you specifically @ra-scheln ) Planar Tears has been such an undertaking and having your feedback specifically has been really helpful in working out the knots in the story and figuring out what I want from it. I’d have a much harder time without you <3

16. How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Share one of them?

god, too many. The WIPs are off the charts - Planar Tears, In Service of Magic, Fae Bindings, and a bunch of one shot stuff.

But… I'm assuming this means ideas only and not WIPs so... probably a Lennie/Rolan one I've been thinking about for ages, where they go to pick up supplies on the day all of the first batch of camp kids leave and the counsellors are having a party. It's an opportunity for Lennie and Rolan to park in the woods and get very frisky, but also for her to find out later that evening that there are two kids staying the whole summer - and they're two tiefling kids that's she's noticed Rolan being a little kinder to, even though he tries to keep his distance. She puts two and two together about the fact he's working there to earn the money to support them, and that he's chosen camp instead of a job he'd be better suited to for this summer because they have always wanted to go to summer camp. So they talk about it over roasting smores, and kiss, and maybe explore a little of their feelings about being respectively a half-orc and a tiefling and the bigotry they face. Lennie explains why to her, that makes her love summer camp; she felt like "just one of the kids" and not an outcast under Jaheira's stewardship, and wants to give that back. That she wants to include everyone and hopefully make the next generation more accepting - even if their parents still look askance at her tusks and her broad, powerful body. And maybe, though Rolan doesn’t really feel the same as she does about trying to change people’s minds, he does appreciate a little more why she cares about doing her work well whilst she’s there, and maybe feels like he too could put a little more effort in to help beyond just his siblings.

tl;dr filth, fluff and heart. I hope. One day it might get written!

20. Have you noticed any patterns in your fics? Words/expressions that appear a lot, themes, common settings, etc?

I’ve talked about “people who think their worth is measured by one ability they’re really good at coming to understand they’re more than that” and “accepting your kinks/working out your feelings about them” a lot, so I’ll spare you all another disquisition on those.

Instead… hmmm. I guess that whilst I like conflict, I am always, in the end, hopeful. And I’m a romantic. Love is a motivating force to all my main characters.

I write “scowling” a lot but that’s just because of Rolan lmao.

[whump-on-a-string]

Okay so Dallan. What’s his story so far? What’s his personality like? What are his interests?

I'll start with his story. It's just a bunch of vague events strung together though as I'm bad at writing or coming up with ideas. I just draw. :') Dallan is an OC from when I was a silly little minor in school randomly RPing stuff with my friend on pet website forums and PMs, so it's based on very old content and may be revised more in the future, but here are the main bits that are still relevant to the character's background.

When I made him, he was around my own age. But he is in his 20s now. Dallan is a very polite and proper man but also kind of a pushover. If someone were to steal an old lady's purse he'd go right after the thief and want to make it right and call it out. But if he's at his home/work he might hold back and not say anything as to not cause a disturbance to others. Chances are if he'd get yelled at or reprimanded by his higher ups he'll try and not say anything unless it's a pretty bad situation. He doesn't want to get fired. But some things might be worth getting fired for. He has a hard time speaking up for himself since his general job was to "speak only when spoken to" and basically be a ghost helping the house function. The occasional bullying from other staff didn't help him with his confidence much either. Physical and verbal abuse from his earlier childhood and household staff sort of manifested as a fawn/freeze response for him when he was young. It's much better now that he's older, grew taller and he has more of a spine. But he still has his moments now and again.

Who Dallan works for depends on the setting since he was intended for use in RP. But by default he usually works for Mr. Richard and/or Alexander Parish. Richard is a wealthy man, and Parish is the Doctor who tended to Mr. Richard's late wife. They're both close friends now. (I have more info on the two of them under the read more break.)

The only notable co-worker so far in Dallan's case is Alice. She's been employed by Richard and his family the longest, for 2 decades at least. She was only intended to be a side character, set dressing, but ended up becoming a bit of an antagonist to Dallan, and a threat to a guest who was recovering in Richard's home after an unfortunate stabbing event happened on the front lawn. (I think it was a hate crime against elves but the rp was so long ago I can't remember.) She's more of a fight/flee type in contrast to Dallan's fawn/freeze. Her childhood was also probably quite rough, resulting in a narcissistic personality as a means of defense. The death of Mrs. Richard was also very hard on her.

Dallan was completely illiterate when he was hired around the age of 11-12 much to Alice's dismay.

Another important part of Dallan's story was a character called "Wolf" who I misremembered as a half-elf. He was my friend's character, who carried and progressed most of the plot. Wolf arrived at Mr. Richard's home upon receiving a letter from his schoolyard friend Parish, to be introduced to Richard, and have a pleasant time at one of Richard's dinner parties. (Or he just happened to be in the area. I can't remember.) But Wolf had enemies, or was the victim of an anti-elf or half-elf hate crime and was promptly stabbed on Mr. Richard's front lawn, extending his stay at the man's house for a while. He and Dallan became good friends, and was also a sort of mentor to Dallan. Dallan also received a leg injury, but the reason/time/place is not set in stone given the nebulous connection to someone else's OC. It just matters that has or will-have a bullet injury to one of his legs. It's just an event that is canon to his character now.

Wolf gave Dallan a silver pocketwatch that's worth more than all of his belongings combined. It was a bit of a teasing gift, as Dallan had been late on several occasions while Wolf was visiting Richard's home. Now he had a watch to help him keep track of the time to stop being late. ...Hopefully. It's a key item and important to him. That said, the one who gave it to him may change or be elaborated upon more in the future. All that matters is that he was given a generous gift of a very nice pocket watch which he carries everywhere, and he values it very much. Do not separate. You will upset him.

His Employers, Workday, & Hobbies

Mr. Richard is pretty strict and stern, but he has a good heart and cares about all of his staff. Richard lives in a small mansion. It doesn't have ALL of the staff a greathouse usually would because his property is small and doesn't need as much upkeep as a larger one. He has no children, and his wife passed away so it's just him and his staff. He's a social butterfly though so he hosts dinners and parties frequently, as being home alone isn't his favorite thing to do. Any friend of Richard will regularly get invites delivered by mail. One of his close friends is an elf named Alexander Parish, who is a doctor. They met while he was helping care for the health of Richard's late wife and they all became very good friends. Parish still visits Richard regularly for personal reasons instead of just for business. Most of Dallan's daily activities consist of cleaning, trash collecting, window washing, polishing cutlery, blacking boots, etc. So most of the duties from the "lowest rank" almost to the "highest rank" but he does not help with finances or , For Richard's parties he's responsible for holding doors, taking coats, and if needed: help the scullery maids serve food and drink,

Alexander Parish is your local friendly (albeit expensive) doctor. He also performs some surgeries, and uses his own magical skills to help clients heal better. His magic can't mend bones or reverse inflicted wounds but it can speed up the healing process or help fight off infection, but it all depends on the severity and his energy at the time. It's a small extra tool and not a replacement of proper medical care. Dallan works for Parish permanently only in the event of Richard's death, otherwise he only works for the doctor upon his master's instruction to do so. (Which is somewhat frequent.)

Workday:

Most of Dallan's daily activities consist of cleaning, trash collecting, window washing, polishing cutlery, blacking boots, etc. So most of the duties from the "lowest rank" almost to the "highest rank" for servants since it's very small staff but also a small property. He does not help with finances or anything involving numbers and letters as he's terrible at reading & writing because he's rather uneducated. He can read now, just not very well and his handwriting is chickenscratch. For Richard's parties he's responsible for holding doors, taking coats, and if needed he helps the scullery maids serve food and drink. The wages aren't too bad & he doesn't have to pay for food or his room so he's pretty content with the setup. Other than that he'll do chores for the day and then turn in for the night.

Hobbies:

Any hobbies he has are pretty unknown since he usually is just working for most of the day, but he really likes to sit back with something warm to drink and relax in the garden, or go visit the beach on rare little vacations on the weekend. He'd probably be interested in picking up some kind of arts & crafts if he had the time for it though. He really likes dogs though so he also would enjoy walking around the neighborhood hoping to encounter someone walking their pet so he could pet them and give them little treats (with the owners permission of course). Horses also interest but terrify him. Dallans favorite work-related hobby would just be getting sent out of the house to run errands so he can enjoy the trip.

His only known fears are "monsters" and drowning/suffocating. He'll probably pass out once he learns that vampires and werewolves are REAL in his world. And he sticks to shallow water at the beach.

Yeah that's all I've got for now. Thanks for making me finally get all of this out of my head lol.

[tellthemeerkatsitsfine]

TW: alcohol and death (yep, this one's a fun one)

Mark Watson had a line in his 2014 stand-up show about how last year he was… not an alcoholic, but had a problem with drinking. Which sounds a lot like bullshit, and I know that because I have often described times in my life as “I want’s an alcoholic or anything, but I definitely had a drinking problem”, and I was bullshitting at least a bit with both the “not an alcoholic” part of that, and the “it was all in the past and it’s fine now” part. What I meant is it seemed fine then because it was worse in the past, but objectively, I was still drinking too much. And I’m fairly sure Mark Watson was also bullshitting, because he had a bit material along those lines – something about “last year I was drinking too much but I’m better and have it under control now” – in each new show for like five years in a row. Lots of comedians have done the “I realized I’ve been an alcoholic for years and have decided to quit” show, I feel like Mark Watson might have one of those coming at some point.

Watching all those Mark Watson shows in a row was a bit difficult for me, because I could so obviously see that it sounded like bullshit when he said it, and it is exactly what I’ve been doing for more than ten years. Say I know I used to drink too much, but it’s all fine now. And then say the same thing again the next year.

There are times in my life when my drinking has reached much, much more problematic levels than it is most of the time. The first was in 2011, when I was 20 years old, I got fired from my job as a cashier because I kept having panic attacks at work. I was absolutely devastated. It sounds ridiculous, looking back, that one of the deepest depressions of my whole life was caused by a department store, but it was the second job I��d ever had, I became convinced that if I wasn’t socially functional enough to keep a retail job then I would never be able to hold down a “real job” (note: I am now aware that that is bullshit, retail jobs are harder than most things that get considered “real jobs”, all customer service workers should be paid five million dollars a year). Also, I broke down for the same reason why I went into a depression every time I changed schools as a kid, even though school made me miserable. I went to one place every day and that was my place and it was familiar and I knew what it was like in there and I knew the people and the layout and it was mine, and then suddenly it was gone, and my brain is not built to deal with that. So I fell apart for an entire year.

I fortunately had saved up enough money so I could get away with not working for the next year, just going to university. But I didn’t actually go to university. I pretty much sat in my bedroom and cried all day. I remember writing in journals that I knew I probably wouldn’t still be crying about this every day when I was 30, but I couldn’t see when it would stop or get better, and I felt like nothing would ever matter to me again.

Up until that point, I hardly ever drank alcohol. I never touched alcohol at all until I was nineteen, which is the legal age where I live, even though most people I knew drank underage. I was always scared of what an unknown factor like that would do to me, I used to say my brain is bad enough at controlling my body and I don’t want to see how much worse a job the liquid poison might do. I was scared to touch the stuff for years, until finally when I was nineteen, I had some vodka and beer at a trusted friend’s house under very safe conditions, and realized that actually, this stuff is pretty good. But even then, I started drinking when my roommates held parties every couple of months or so, but that was it.

Until I lost my job, and for the first few weeks I just felt terrible all day and didn’t do anything about it, and then one day I bought a bottle of whiskey and drank half of it in my bedroom between 1 and 5 PM. It felt like doing something. It gave me a few hours, when I’d had enough alcohol to feel the effects but not enough to be incredibly drunk, when I could listen to music and watch Buffy the Vampire Slayer and enjoy the process. And of course, by 6 PM I had burst into tears because I was so drunk and then all my problems hit me again. But I probably would have burst into tears at 6 PM that night anyway. This seemed like a better way to do it.

I have another comedian quote here, from James Acaster: There are four things you can be in life: sober, tipsy, drunk, and hungover. And tipsy is the only one of the four where you don’t cry during it.

I started doing that every few days, and then almost every day. I started buying beer and whiskey more often, and keeping it in my bedroom so my roommates wouldn’t see how fast I went through it. I started hiding the empty bottles under my bed and only putting them out right before the recycling went out, so my roommates wouldn’t notice. I never shared this with anyone for nearly a year, when I opened up to my one of my roommates about it and he told me he did know how much I was drinking because my footsteps got heavier when I was drunk, and he’d wanted to reach out and offer help but didn’t know how.

Amazingly, I finished that first semester with three A+s and two As in my university courses. I literally never set foot on campus except on exam days, even though none of my courses were online. I just happened to be taking five courses where you can learn the whole thing from the textbook, if you happen to be too depressed to leave your bedroom. So I skipped every class but did read the books, often while drinking because the hours when I drank (the first few hours of drinking, before I crossed the line into too drunk and sad again) were the only times when I was functional. I’d drink, and read textbooks, and watch Buffy, and memorize everything in both of those things, and ace the exams.

So, I would call that a “period in my life when I was not an alcoholic, but did have a drinking problem”. It was the first one. There have been a few others. That one ended when I ran away to live in Nova Scotia for a year, slowly put my life back together. I continued drinking alone because I enjoyed it, but it became more of a hobby than a necessity. A once-a-week, maybe occasionally twice-a-week thing, rather than every couple of days. I’d also drink socially, sometimes. But I think I kept that to a fairly normal level. And that’s how much drinking has been pretty much every since, mostly, aside from the couple of other periods in my life that I would call “I had a drinking problem for a while” times.

Another time was in 2018, when a guy who was really big and successful in our sport – I had watched him at local tournaments and on streams from bigger tournaments and admired him for years – moved to my city and joined our little team. All the coaches from my team were a bit star-struck with him, but no one more than me. I remember the first time I saw him at his first practice, first out of the corner of my eye and then I did a double take as my brain went “holy fuck shit, it’s [name of a guy who’s famous in our sport and who had messaged me a week earlier to say he’d come to practice but I still couldn’t believe he was there].” I went over, said hi, he introduced himself as though I might not already know his fucking name. At the end of practice, I nervously told him that the coaches usually go to a pub after practice, I don’t know if he’d want to come with us or anything, I mean we just met so no pressure, but… and then he cut me off to say he’d love to and he’ll give me his number so I can send him the address. I was so excited to have his number.

We went to the pub, and at first, my friends and I tried to talk to him carefully, not knowing if he’d be cool with how much we drink after every tournament (and tournaments were almost every weekend). But he told some drinking stories from his home team that dwarfed ours, and we quickly said, we’re going to get along great.

We did. He became a big part of our coaching friend group. Our ritual of “one or two beers at the pub a couple of nights a week after practice, then get drunk on the weekend after tournaments” turned into getting drunk after almost every practice, mostly at his suggestion. He was always asking who wanted to go back to his place after the pub and drink more, and we usually did it. It became a running joke among us that he always had more alcohol, if we though we’d drank all his beer he’d pull some emergency stash of rum or some shit out of some cupboard somewhere. He could turn any random Wednesday into a spontaneous all-nighter, drinking until 4 AM and passing out on his couches. He was generous, always shared whatever alcohol he had in exchange for getting people to keep drinking with him.

Not every person stayed until 4 AM every time. But I did. Mainly because I truly loved the community that was building around this, the way I really felt like part of something, this sitcom-style friend group. Mainly because we had fun. We weren’t off getting in trouble, doing stupid things. We were just sitting in his living room, listening to music, sharing stories from this sport that was our shared passion and all our separate and mutual experiences in it. And the other reason I always stayed is because I was a little bit in love with him, though that’s a different issue (I think I was as in love with him as it’s possible for me to be with someone of his anatomical makeup, the one time I did actually hook up with him I quickly realized that I did not enjoy contact with that anatomy no matter who it’s attached to, and I figured if I don’t enjoy it with someone I had that strong feelings for then I won’t enjoy it with anyone, so that’s when I started calling myself gay instead of bisexual, though I still usually add the word “mostly” in front of the word “gay” because of said feelings, and also Joe Thomas is hot, Mark Watson used to be my go-to example here of a famous man I find attractive but cheating on your wife is not hot, anyway I may be drifting slightly off topic).

I started getting anxious about how much I was drinking, worried that I’d give myself cancer or something. I’m a hypochondriac at the best of times, and it got worse when I really was doing something very unhealthy. But I always told myself it was okay, because he drank way more than I did. At the peak of my times hanging out with him, I was still drinking maybe three times a week. He was drinking almost every night. I’d wake up on his couch in the morning, he’d come up and make breakfast for everyone who stayed over, and he used to make Ceasars in the morning, offer it to us as a “hair of the dog” thing where you have a tiny bit of alcohol as a hangover cure (the idea that alcohol’s a hangover cure is, of course, bullshit). I sometimes took it, would have half a Ceaser with minimal alcohol with him, and then I’d go home. But more often than not, I’d hear about how after we left, he had a few more Ceasars, than met up with other friends, and turned it into a day-long binge with them. The nights he wasn’t with us, he was drinking with other people. And I’m pretty sure he was getting into other drugs too, though he never did it around us. Some of his friends from outside the team used cocaine, I think.

So I always figured I couldn’t be drinking enough to kill me, because he was doing way worse, and he was fine. The drinking did slow down a bit throughout 2019, as my friends and I started drawing more boundaries, saying it’s been fun but we can’t keep turning the pub into a binge drink every time. A few of the coaches got girlfriends and stopped hanging out with us so much. Things drifted apart a little, and then COVID hit and everything stopped.

Then, in February 2021, he died of a brain aneurysm. I Googled it, and learned that substance abuse can be a major risk factor for brain aneurysms. The guy whom I had used as my “I can’t be that bad since he does worse and he’s fine” barometer died at 27 of a probably substance abuse-related medical issue, as though he was some sort of fucking rockstar from the 70s.

Unsurprisingly, this did kick off another period in my life of what I would call drinking way too much. But that period was limited, it had a specific inciting incident and it did have an end point, as I started to move on from the initial fog of grief. But for the first six weeks after he died, I pretty much didn’t do anything except cry and drink.

For months after that, I went back to my previous, not-a-problem-just-the-baseline schedule of drinking, which was to get drunk alone in my room about once or twice a week (twice more often than once, to be honest, and sometimes more than that, but it was a lot less than I'd been drinking in the previous years). And every time, once I got drunk enough, I’d break down crying about his death. This happens a lot when I drink, and I’ve realized recently how much I’d come to rely on it. I try to keep my emotions together the rest of the time, and then once (sometimes twice, usually only once) a week I’d schedule a few hours to drink beer and whiskey while listening to music and watching comedy and having a good time, followed by hitting a level of drunk where I’d cry about what was upsetting me. And that would be my emotional expression for the week. It helped, honestly. I’d wake up feeling better, feeling like I’d processed something.

Obviously that is not a healthy way to deal with emotions, in an ideal world you can feel and work through the difficult feelings without the aid of liquid poison. What I had wondered about before is whether the alcohol was creating bad feelings, rather than just giving me an outlet to express the emotions that were already there, under the surface. I think it almost always the latter. I think, for the rest of 2021, I was still grieving my friend who’d died. I was so depressed all year, even after I finished the initial six-week horrible grieving period, I just still wasn’t functional, and I didn’t really know why. But then I’d get drunk and cry about his death, suggesting that I was no in fact as over the grieving period as I’d thought. And that’s happened with lots of things that are smaller than a friend’s death, over the years. Times when my mental health was bad but I didn’t think it was for any specific cause, but then I’d see what I get emotional about when drinking, and that would be the cause. At times in my life when I’m genuinely happy, I do in fact manage to get through a night of drinking without breaking down about stuff.

I have Googled signs that you might be an alcoholic before, and obviously I’m aware that Googling whether you’re an alcoholic is a significant sign of alcoholism. But I never connected to the signs. They are all about whether alcohol is fucking up your life, causing you to lose friends or family or romantic relationships, to get in trouble with the law, to behave obnoxiously in public, to spend outside your means and hurt yourself financially, to get into fights or take risks and get hurt.

I don’t do any of that. My favourite place to get drunk is alone in my bedroom, where I play the music I like and I watch what I want to watch and I write and I relax. My second favourite place to get drunk is on my best friend’s couch (which is now my couch, as I’ve just moved in with him), just him and I, playing music and watching videos from our sport and talking shit. My third favourite place to get drunk is in a pub, or at least it used to be. I’ve never liked nightclubs, or even just bars with dancefloors. I like a place where I can sit down and connect with friends and we can hear each other talk.

I love pubs, I always have, but these days, I’ve found I don’t even like getting drunk in them anymore. I still like going to them and having a beer or two, but once I get past a couple of drinks, I start to feel uncomfortable. I get self-conscious about whether I’m behaving appropriately for being in public. I get concerned about how it might be difficult to get myself home while drunk (even though I have gotten myself safely home while drunk hundreds of times before). I’ll have a couple of pints and then go home and drink more from the comfort of my bedroom.

That’s something that started during the pandemic, when I went from enjoying drinking socially or alone, to hating drinking socially. If I’m at an event where others are drinking, I’ll have one or two drinks but that’s it, these days. If I do get drunk around other people, I spend all day the next day feeling terrible about it, paranoid that I said something horribly wrong, hating myself for how badly I must have come across by letting people see me while I wasn’t in full control. In all of 2023, I think the only time I got drunk around anyone besides my one best friend was the first night I ever performed stand-up comedy, where I finished my set and immediately asked the bartender for a whiskey. I hung out with the comedians after the show, drank off the adrenaline, and had a great time. I don’t regret that, it was a lot of fun. But I don’t want to do it more often.

But my love for drinking alone, or with just one other person, has if anything increased in the last few years. I’ve found my life started to revolve around it more and more, as I plan it out. In the last few years, my hatred of drinking around other people even extended to not wanting to drink when my roommate was home. Like when I was twenty, and trying to hide my drinking from my roommates but my heavy footsteps gave me away. I’d get paranoid about my roommate being able to tell I was drinking, I didn’t want him to know. I’d try so hard to be quiet, but I’d still spend all day the next worrying about whether I was too loud the night before.

So I started planning around when he’d be out of the house. If I knew he was going to his girlfriend’s place for the night, I’d make sure I had everything else done, had no plans for that night, so I could sit in my room and play music with no headphones and drink my beer and whiskey in peace. And that was nice, but it also became the only treat that I looked forward to, the thing that motivated me through everything else. I’d plan so much around it, I’d download things in preparation, I’d try to schedule my comedy watching so that that night was a good one. And then I’d do it again the next week, because he went out about once a week. I’d need it to be perfect. And at some point I realized it’s not great for the night when I can get drunk to be the only thing I really look forward to.

In June 2023, I woke up one morning after a night of drinking beer while listening to David O’Doherty albums, and I had a panic attack from the fear that I would drink myself to death just like my friend did. I called my mom and admitted to her how much I’d been drinking, for years, which she hadn’t known. I told her I wanted to cut back. Not quit, I didn’t need to quit. But I needed to slow down. She told me that was a good idea.

So I did. For the second half of 2023, I drank a lot less than I had in years. It helped that I’d started working an in-person fulltime job. Oh right, that was the other thing that came up all the time when I Google signs of alcoholism: if it makes it hard to hold down a job. Which alcohol never does for me, because I’m too careful. I would never, ever go into work drunk, or even hungover. I never have even a single drink if I have to work the next day. So this new job left me with only two nights of the week when I could drink at all, Friday and Saturday. And I made a rule that I could drink Friday or Saturday, not both. And that I didn’t need to get really drunk every time. I could have three beers instead of eight or nine. I started drinking whiskey from shot glasses instead of straight from the bottle, so I could monitor how much I’d had and keep it to a reasonable amount.

It did work, a bit. There were exceptions, like the night of my first stand-up set in July, when I said fuck it, I’m getting drunk with these comedians. And I really don’t regret that, it was a big night and it was fun. It felt a bit like the pre-COVID times, when I used to drink with the coaches after tournaments (sometimes in hotels or Air B&Bs, sometimes in bars in the out-of-town city where we’d traveled, sometimes in a friend’s living room if it was nearby so we went home that night, sometimes I’d drink with just my team and sometimes with the other teams too). It was always such a long day, such a big and tiring day, the travel and the odd sleeping arrangements and the excitement, the high highs of winning and the low lows of losing and the suspense of the in-between moments, working so hard to get the team where it needs to be. Everyone drinks after tournaments – the coaches, the refs, most athletes unless they’re in a serious competition phase that means they can’t have alcohol. You have to let off some steam after something that big and dramatic.

I’ve said before that I think I got addicted to the chemicals that the excitement of competition brought out in my brain, and when that stopped during COVID, I sort of replaced them by drinking alcohol more often, as that was an artificial way to make life feeling heightened and exciting. Music sounds better, comedy is funnier, food tastes better, everything seems big and cool the way it does at something like a tournament. Performing stand-up gave me that same feeling, and I just wanted to drink and let off steam (since then, I have performed stand-up several times and not gotten drunk after, mainly because I had to work the next day, but the first time was during a week off from work).

So that night was an exception. There have been other exceptions, when I’ve gotten really drunk the way I did before my resolution to cut back in June 2023. But there have also been lots of nights when I’ve gotten tipsy off a few drinks, and then gone to bed. It made me feel a lot better about myself.

I’m not sure about it, though. Last night, my best friend/new roommate and I went out to a pub that’s right by our new place. We had a few drinks, came back here, and got very drunk in the living room. I woke up this morning and threw up, for the first time in ages, which is probably a good sign because it means my tolerance is still down (that amount of alcohol would not have made me throw up last year). But I realized I can’t keep doing this. Cutting it down to only getting really drunk every few weeks instead of every week isn’t enough. I can say I used to have a drinking problem but it’s fine now, because it only seems fine now because it used to be so much worse. But just because it’s less bad doesn’t mean this is fine.

I didn’t see myself in any of the internet lists of signs that you might be an alcoholic, and I probably let that, for too long, make me think I was fine. But I’ve got to admit there are a bunch of comedian things that hit way too close to home, alcoholism-wise, and make me think it’s likely a problem. Like when I listened to those old Howard/Richardson radio shows and Jon would joke about how he scheduled time in his week to get drunk by himself and cry. And when I read his book, which has some fucking harrowing and familiar stories about how it felt when he did exactly that (by the way, on the subject of comedians who probably have an “I realized I was an alcoholic and quit drinking” show in them at some point – he might be another one). Michael Legge had a really rough story in his book about how bleak hangovers feel, how much they make you hate yourself. That felt too familiar to me.

I did relate to a lot of Mark Watson stories about drinking. The one he was telling around 2015, about all the stress and anxiety and that goes through your head all day, and then you sit down while alone in a room and have a glass of wine and it makes you like yourself a little more. A quote that I see in a slightly different light now that I realize Mark Watson actually had quite good reason to hate himself in 2015, but still. He put into words so clearly that feeling of how you’re not even aware of how constant the underlying sense of “I fucking hate myself” is until you have a drink and that sense gets alleviated for a little while. No wonder I started revolving my whole week around opportunities to do that.

But obviously, if I’m talking about comedians who talk about alcohol in a way that resonates with me, I’ve got to go to John Robins. Whom I’m pretty sure is still touring his 2023 Edinburgh show Howl, a show I haven’t seen (but please, John, please film it, I will pay you money for it John), but have read about it, so I know it’s an “I realized I was an alcoholic and quit drinking” show. I haven’t seen that show, but I have heard lots of his earlier material, which had lots of bleak stories told with varying levels of jokes, about drinking to deal with shit.

I’m listening to old episodes of his radio show right now, starting from 2014. He tells a lot of casual stories about getting drunk, but they’re almost always fun, nothing that would seem problematic if taken in isolation. Aside from one story about running out of alcohol while on the phone with his dad, with whom he did not have a relationship, and frantically needing to find more alcohol so he didn’t have to do that sober. That was one of those stories where you could hear Elis react like – Dude, that’s not as funny as you seem to think it is.

But I’ve just listened to an episode they did where they talked about additions, and kept specifically saying this isn’t about the “big” addictions, hard drugs or whatever, it’s just about those silly things that people can still get addicted to. And it’s mostly lighthearted and fun, they take listener messages about video games or other things like that.

John Robins shared stories of how he’s gotten addicted to lots of different iPhone games, like Candy Crush, and was once severely addicted to online golf. Elis laughed, in the spirit of the fun and silly addictions stories they were doing, and that time it was John’s turn to say – Dude, I know we’re having fun here, but that’s not really as funny as you think it is. What he really said was, “That was actually a pretty bleak time in my life, it cost me a girlfriend and about a year of progress in my career.” In a previous episode, he told a story about a previous girlfriend who left him a note asking if he could spend time with her when he was done his game, and he didn’t take the hint that he was neglecting her, until after she’d already left him.

John Robins has also made a passing reference to having attended Gambler’s Anonymous meetings when he was younger. And to the fact that, in 2014, he was vaping in an attempt to wean himself off cigarettes. It makes me think of that South Park episode where Stan gets addicted to a microtransaction-ridden phone game and his grandfather drinks too much, and they put those two storylines in parallel to show it’s the same process underlying both behaviours, and addictive personality runs in the family and it'll latch on to anything.

I find the idea of addictive personalities interesting, that if addiction is in your personality, you can’t do anything safely, it always becomes an obsession and any deep enough obsession can fuck up your life. I’ve always been careful with potentially addictive stuff besides alcohol because of that. I know I have an addictive personality. I started one sport in 2004 and dedicated my entire life to it, to the exclusion of all else, until 2020, when COVID took it away so I instead dedicated my entire life to obsession with comedy. I don’t think of that as an addiction, that’s just autism. What’s the difference between an addiction and a special interest? I guess the difference is whether it fucks up your life.

I know addiction runs in my family, too. My dad’s dad died of alcohol-related conditions, and my dad was an alcoholic in his twenties, though he quit drinking just before I was born. This is going to sound silly, like the idea of a video game addiction, but my brother has a genuine, serious caffeine addiction. He goes through this cycle where the worst phase involves him drinking lots of Monster energy every day, then he’ll try to quit, sometimes going cold turkey and sometimes going slow, and he’ll get withdrawal, which usually includes horrible anger management problems. Then my mom will catch him drinking a can of Coca-Cola, he’ll say it’s okay because it’s just a can of Coke, and then it’ll build back up until he’s addicted again.

Because of that, I never touch caffeine. I never drink coffee or any kind of pop, I certainly don’t drink energy drinks, and I never drink tea unless I confirm it’s caffeine-free. I’ve never smoked anything, I never do any drugs besides alcohol. I’ve tried weed before, and honestly, I wish I liked it, because it’s better for me than alcohol, I wish I could just switch to that instead. But I didn’t like it that much. And I know that any drug is dangerous for me. If I start, and I actually like it, I won’t be able to just do a little bit of it. I can never do just a little bit of anything. I have a spreadsheet of all the comedy I’ve watched and read and listened to during the pandemic, and it definitely confirms that I absolutely cannot do just a little bit of anything.

This is a little part of why I find John Robins so appealing overall. I like listening to comedians who are intense about stuff, who are like me in the sense of being hypercompetitive and caring too much about everything and tell stories about what it’s like to live that way, stories that resonate with me. And that’s why last year, when I heard he’d quit drinking, I made some comments about how I’m really glad and that’s a great decision for him and no one should ever suffer for the sake of making art and also great art does not require suffering to be made – but also, I have to admit the really intense self-loathing stuff is a part of John Robins’ comedy that I find appealing, so please let him film this last stand-up show (and give us a great season of that thing that we all have to pretend for like two more days we don’t know the lineup of), and then he can ride off into the sunset and be happy forever even if he doesn’t write any more stand-up comedy about how his addictive, obsessive, hypercompetitive personality makes him miserable.

I said some stuff like that, and then I read an interview he did in The Guardian about his show Howl and its theme of his decision to quit drinking, and then I felt guilty for even for a moment, even jokingly, even though I filled it up with “of course I want him to be happy though” caveats, suggesting that there could be a downside to him getting sober. I'm going to paste in a quote from the article:

“It was hell,” says the Radio 5 Live man now. “I was a control freak of my own existence. Back then, a good day was a day where everything went according to plan. There’s a million individual moments in the day where something can go wrong. If they go wrong, I’ve fucked up, and I go apeshit at myself. And I lived like that for years – and used alcohol to try and switch it off. “But then the next day is worse, because you were drunk the night before. So you feel even more anxious, with more dread that things will go wrong. Until eventually” – and this is what happened earlier this year – “the booze stops working. And that was hell. That made the anxiety worse. So you end up in this ludicrous situation where you need to drink in exactly the right way, at exactly the right time, and exactly the right things, because drinking is now just another thing that has to go exactly according to plan.” It sounds (and was) exhausting, and unsustainable. So Robins called time on the drinking in November of last year. Looking back now, he says, “after a few months’ sobriety” (and having fixed a thyroid problem that made the anxiety worse), “trying to address that damage through comedy is a challenge. Because what I describe to you doesn’t sound very funny.” He guffaws. “And it wasn’t. I can feel myself getting emotional now, because I’ve not talked to many strangers about it.”

Quitting drinking will not make John Robins a worse comedian, because suffering does not improve anyone's art, everyone makes better creative stuff when they are in a good mental place. But also, even if quitting drinking did take his edge away and ruin his comedy (which it hasn't and won't), he doesn't owe his audience anything, and living like that would not be worth all the comedy in the world. I genuinely apologize for ever having implied for a moment, even flippantly and jokingly, that it might be. (Besides, I've heard the Pappy's Flatshare Slamdown episode he recorded last year, and he was his usual overly intense and annoyingly hypercompetitive self, conforming that John Robins does not need alcohol to ruin everyone's fun. Thank God.)

Obviously that part hit me pretty heard when I read it last year. But of all these comedian quotes that I've referenced in this post, the one that resonated with me the most is something from a different Guardian article featuring John Robins in 2023, a conversation he had with Adrian Chiles about whether it's possible to moderate a drinking problem, or whether a drinking problem can only be stopped by total abstinence:

AC: I think people are led to believe that moderation isn’t possible: that if you successfully moderate, it’s because you didn’t have much of a problem in the first place. Otherwise, the ideas are very binary. People will stop you in the street and say: “I hear you’re on the wagon,” or: “Are you a friend of Bill’s?” or: “Are you still off the booze?” It doesn’t even occur to people that there could be a middle ground, either you’re completely befuddled and drunk the whole time, or you’re completely sober. JR: The difference between us is that you’re moderating to change a habit. Whereas I was, unbeknownst to me, moderating to try to control an addiction. You describe alcohol as a handrail. I would say alcohol was the handrail, the stairs and the destination.

Here's what I'm afraid of, as I sit here still feeling hungover at 8 PM, hating myself for how much I drank last night, worried about how I might have behaved even though all I did was sit in the pub and then our living room with my best friend of nearly twenty years. I'm afraid that John Robins is right here. That if you have an addictive personality, there is no moderating. I did the "three beers and then go to bed" thing for a while, and it worked okay. But after a few months, I started slipping more and more. I'd drink past that point just this once, and then just this once again. My baseline, "only drinking in moderation night" went from three beers to five, and then to six (which is still a lot less than it was pre-June 2023, but it was creeping up). I started losing track of how much whiskey I'd had in a night.

Two weeks ago, the Olympic Trials happened, a woman from my team competed and won a gold medal, my best friend was in her corner, I watched it on the stream and got maybe drunker than I've been all year, as I felt some conflicting emotions about watching my best friend achieve our joint dreams after I've stepped back from the sport, am still struggling with that decision, but was also genuinely incredibly happy for them. So I got very drunk that night. Then last week, I had a week off work over Christmas, and I got drunk - really properly drunk - three times in the week. It feels like it cumulated in last night, when I drank like it was 2018 again. I worry about whether moderation can last, for me.

I think I'm going to do dry January. Which I hate, because I hate the idea of trends like that. I wish this were the start of any other month, some month where annoying people on Facebook aren't saying "New Year, new me, dry January". I don't want to get on a bandwagon. But that's just the contrarian in me that hasn't matured since high school, and having a contrarian in me that hasn't matured since high school isn't a good reason to avoid getting healthy.

I'm thinking of another comedy moment now, this time from the sitcom Ladhood, when Liam Williams quit drinking for a month just to prove he didn't have a problem, but then as the last hours ran down, he was starting at the clock, and grabbed a drink the moment time was up, and went right back to old habits. Maybe that'll happen here. I'm not ready to say I plan to quit drinking forever. I think I should quit drinking forever. But I'm not ready to plan that yet. I'm going to try for a month and see how that feels. No moderation, just no drinking at all. And then I'll take it from there. Maybe or maybe not in the same direction as Liam Williams, but at least it's something.

Today is New Year's Eve. Around New Year's last year, I watched Ahir Shah's stand-up show Dots, and it had this line about how he quit anti-depressants, but then learned that quitting that is a pro-depressant, so he went back on them. I quit anti-depressants in early 2021, was really sad for most of 2021 (in my defense, I was grieving a friend whom I'd been as in love with as I could be given the gender-related circumstances), had a breakdown in 2022, and had already been thinking about going back on meds when I watched that Ahir Shah show that just laid it out so clearly. The next day, I called my doctor, and in 2023 I've been more emotionally stable, and I think of Ahir Shah every time I take my anti-anxiety pill at night.

Well, maybe I am in fact a New Year's resolution-making, dry January participating, cliche, because maybe every year, at the beginning of the year, I'm going to hear a quote from a comedian that seems to so clearly lay out one of my problems and leaves me with a more straightfoward understanding of a big change I need to make for my health. Last year it was the Shah quote about meds, this year it might be "The difference between us is that you’re moderating to change a habit. Whereas I was, unbeknownst to me, moderating to try to control an addiction."

...I mean, obviously, don't take medical advice or other major life decisions from comedians. But also, "Go on brain meds if your brain needs meds and don't drink alcohol if you're an alcoholic" sure doesn't seem like bad advice.

It's New Year's Even and I'm staying sober all night, while in other years, I'd have gotten drunk because that's what you do on New Year's, even if I drank the night before too. I've just pictured a version of myself that says "No thanks, I don't do that" when someone offers me a beer, the same way I say that now when I'm offered a coffee. I think that's a version of myself that I might not hate so much. I don't write comedy shows (well, not hour-long involved emotional ones, I write six minutes to perform in a pub), but maybe this is my "I realized I was an alcoholic and quit drinking" Tumblr post. Maybe. We'll see how this works out.

[cosmicanger]

You almost never hear about the yellow fever outbreak of 1793. Wealthy slave owners brought it to Philadelphia that year, fleeing revolutions in the Caribbean. During its peak, a hundred people were dying every day. Back then Philadelphia was a city of 50,000 people. The city government collapsed under the pressure, and almost everyone evacuated. Doctors thought it was spread by rotting vegetables. They were wrong. It didn’t end until a cold front came through in October, killing off carrier mosquitoes. The death toll settled to 20 or so a day, and people began to return. In the end, the epidemic killed more than 5,000 people.

It was 10 percent of their population.

You hear this a lot: Apparently humans have lived with germs and diseases for millions of years. There’s no need for masks or vaccines. Nobody needs clean air. Natural immunity works just fine.

It’s wrong.

It couldn’t be more wrong.

We’ve never been able to live with diseases, not like we do now. Most westerners have no idea. Before medicine, life looked different.

You couldn’t even drink the water.

As an article in Scientific American points out, “water was unsafe to drink for most of human history.” According to Paul Lukacs, humans had to drink wine. It wasn’t fun, either. Ancient texts describe wine as “wretched, horrible, vinegary, foul.” The only thing worse was plain water. You often had no idea if it was safe to drink. For thousands of years, humans opted for beer and wine instead. There was just enough alcohol to kill germs. Even coffee had antiviral and bacterial properties, so it became a preferred beverage in other parts of the world.

When Jesus turned water into wine, he wasn’t throwing a party.

He was killing germs.

Scientists and historians from all disciplines agree on this point: For most of our history, our lives were short. Average life expectancy remained well below 50 for millennia. We didn’t get eaten by tigers.

We got eaten by plagues.

When you look at the last 2,000 years across the world, you see the same thing. About half of all children died before reaching adulthood. Scientists confirm this trend all the way back to the stone age. As Oxford scholar Max Roser says, “Whether in Ancient Rome, in hunter-gatherer societies, in the pre-Columbian Americas, in Medieval Japan or Medieval England, in the European Renaissance, or in Imperial China, every second child died.”

Epidemics have upended countless civilizations, from Rome to the Akkadian Empire. These societies didn’t just live with it. Death and grief played a central role in their cultures, because it happened all the time. It was a different world that most people today can’t wrap their heads around.

They didn’t shrug it off.

They chased answers.

History is full of doctors and scientists who devoted their entire lives trying to treat and cure diseases that plagued us. It’s also full of quacks and charlatans who made fortunes by selling fake miracle cures. There’s a reason why historical novels and movies feature apothecaries and snake oil salesmen. Almost everyone was sick or scared of getting sick and dying.

They got desperate.

Doctors even tried bleeding their patients. Women often bore several children to offset the astonishing infant mortality rate. Despite that, global population growth remained close to zero.

It was flat.

Politicians and billionaires complain about declining birthrates now. Well, that was the norm before modern medicine.

Societies didn’t grow.

They treaded.

Historians say we’re probably underestimating child mortality. During certain periods, it was higher than 50 percent. Every few years, an outbreak of disease drove infant deaths upward to 75 percent.

During the 18th century, big cities like London actually shrank due to awful sanitation and living conditions. More people died in a given year than were born. They relied on a steady stream of gullible migrants from the countryside. Raw sewage frequently contaminated the drinking water. Garbage rotted in the streets. Rats and fleas nested practically everywhere, even in rich homes. Graveyards overflowed. The city buried their excess dead in “poor holes” next to homes and businesses. If you lived anywhere near a cemetery, decaying corpses could leach into your wellwater and poison you. Nobody really understood how disease spread. Doctors operated with dirty surgical instruments and unwashed hands.

These conditions persisted through the 19th century.

In the 1830s, a series of especially bad outbreaks of cholera, flu, and typhoid ravaged London. Social activists and public health experts pushed for sanitation. The city finally started listening in the late 1840s. They passed laws and formed a board of public health. Even then, it took several more outbreaks to motivate investment in a modern sewer system. Politicians waited until the stench of human waste became unbearable in every corner of the city.

The 19th century was a brutal time.

As city populations grew, diseases flourished and wiped out millions of people. Most of them died in agony, without medicine or painkillers, literally puking themselves to death. The world spent decades fighting endless pandemics. Mortality rates for a disease like cholera ranged between 3 and 10 percent. At any given moment, there were three or four major killers circulating.

Before modern medicine, there was a good chance you’d die from plague, cholera, smallpox, typhoid, malaria, polio, flu, tuberculosis, or scarlet fever. Every single one of these diseases terrified people. Without treatment, you might as well flip a coin as to whether you’d live, die, or wind up with lifelong illness. In many places, life expectancy hovered around 40.

Diseases have always hit the poor worse than everyone else. Throughout history, the rich have invested in sanitation for themselves first while leaving everyone else behind and blaming them for their own deaths. According to an article in Science, “the mortality rate from infectious diseases among nonwhite people living in the U.S. was a shocking 1,123 deaths per 100,000 people.” That’s more than the death rate for white people during 1918 flu pandemic. As one sociologist says, it was like living through the 1918 flu, every year.

The last 100 years changed everything.

We’ve developed vaccines and treatments. We’ve learned how diseases spread. We’ve educated the public on sanitation. We’ve done it despite resistance from a vocal minority who thought it wasn’t necessary or couldn’t be done. They wanted us to keep watching half our children die every year.

We made major progress.

Now we’re backsliding.

Life expectancy is falling. Infant mortality is rising. Vaccine skepticism grows by the year, egged on by sociopaths in politics and media who think they’re practicing their free speech. We face crucial shortages of antibiotics and other drugs, with predictions we’ll run out later this year. Healthcare workers are quitting. ER departments are closing over staffing shortages. Everywhere you look, the healthcare systems we spent generations building are falling apart.

That’s not fear talking.

As history shows, we’ve been here before. We’ve seen life without vaccines and masks. We’ve seen life without clean air and drinkable water. That’s how humans lived for 95 percent of our existence.

We hated it.

Humans invested in public health and sanitation because they got tired of dying from diseases. They dragged their leaders kicking and screaming into public health, after it became painfully clear there was no alternative.

Well, here we are again. It would be nice if we could pay attention to history instead of constantly repeating it.

We don’t have to speculate about what our dystopian future looks like. It’s a return to the 18th and 19th centuries when life expectancy hovered in the mid 40s and deadly outbreaks of diseases shut down entire cities and civilizations. The only difference is that many of us will remember a brighter past.

A massive reinvestment in public health would stop this, but it can’t be just for rich people. It has to be for everyone.

We’ll see.

[newstfionline]

Sunday, July 28, 2024

Canadians have tired of Justin Trudeau (Washington Post) Prime Minister Justin Trudeau rose to power in 2015—and rescued the Liberal Party from irrelevance—on promises to bring “real change” and infuse Canadian politics with “sunny ways.” Nearly nine years later, the forecast for the progressive icon is cloudy. His party, which has been slumping in the polls for more than a year, now trails the Conservatives by as many as 20 points and is vulnerable not only in key battlegrounds but also in traditional strongholds. In a much lower-key version of Democratic pressure on President Biden to drop out of the U.S. presidential race, several high-profile Liberals, including his former environment minister Catherine McKenna and Christy Clark, a Liberal former premier of British Columbia, have called on him to step aside to give the party a better chance of staying in government. Trudeau’s woes echo those of many incumbent leaders, who are struggling amid high inflation and concerns about affordability, particularly in housing. Most housing markets in Canada are at or near worst-ever affordability levels, the Royal Bank of Canada reported in December.

Number of Americans who say US ready for female president dipping: Survey (The Hill) Since 2015, the number of Americans who say they are ready for a female president has dropped by nine points, according to a new Times/SAY24 poll from YouGov poll. The survey, conducted after President Biden dropped out of the race, was designed to assess the electorate’s beliefs surrounding “gender bias,” and Vice President Harris’s chances come November. While the respondents said that both Trump and Harris are equally qualified for the job, with 49 percent saying they are, voters are hesitant about the idea of a female president—54 percent of the country says they are ready for a woman president and 30 percent said they aren’t. That number is down from 2015, when an Economist/YouGov poll found 63 percent of voters were ready for a woman president.

California’s largest fire of the year grows to 164,000 acres. (1440) The northern California blaze, known as the Park Fire, has grown to a size larger than the city of Chicago (about 148,000 acres) due to warm, dry weather and high winds. Roughly 4,000 residents in the area have been forced to evacuate, while 130 structures have been destroyed, according to officials. A 42-year-old man was arrested earlier in the week on suspicion of starting the fire via a flaming car. The fire was 0% contained as of this writing.

Venezuelans stretch meager wages they hope will grow after election (AP) A municipal market in eastern Venezuela is teeming with weekend customers hoping to score a deal among the stalls of produce, meat, cheese and shelf-stable products. Some carry plantains, cassava crackers, corn flour or half a carton of eggs as they walk home. Middle school teacher Cruz Brito is standing across the street amid the smell of fish that clings to the hot humid air of Maturin. She has about $27 in her bank account and a single can of sardines at home. She is five days away from her next paycheck and her oldest daughter needs college supplies for the following day. So, she walks away empty handed. Maybe her neighborhood convenience store will sell her a couple of things on credit. Eleven years into her country’s complex crisis, the days of food shortages are virtually gone, but with many earning under $200 a month, getting the essentials is a constant struggle for families in rural and urban areas alike. People work second and third jobs, start little businesses, exchange services and gamble to scrape together the money, but still every decision seems to involve a calculator and a calendar. That angst-provoking math is among the reasons why the ruling party’s hold on power looks vulnerable in Sunday’s presidential election.

Paris Olympics Security: Unprecedented AI Surveillance (La Marea/Spain) A middle-aged man walks around the stadium where the Olympic track and field events are going to take place. Outside, everything is quiet. One can only hear the echoes of applause when a high jumper manages to clear the bar, or sprinters finish their race or one of the stars who will compete that afternoon appears on the jumbo screens. Then suddenly, three police cars arrive at full speed, cut off the man's path and arrest him in just a few seconds. A camera had recorded him and an algorithm had raised the alarm: he must have made some unexpected movement, or perhaps there was an abandoned object nearby, or an “unforeseen” gathering of people. Or perhaps he looks a lot like someone who participated a few months ago in a protest against the war in Gaza… From the command center, someone had registered the anomaly, assessed its credibility and sent the order to the nearest patrols. No, this is not a scene from some futuristic show, but something that could happen during the Olympic Games held in Paris and other French towns. This will be the first worldwide-level event utilizing an algorithmic video surveillance system (VSS) to help ensure security measures. More than 400 cameras will be added to the 4,000 already operating in Paris and placed at the entrances to stadiums, streets and nearby transport, to ensure that there are as few blind spots as possible security-wise during the most followed sporting competition on the planet, with around one and a half million visitors expected to attend. And the system will remain after the games end.

Greece’s Santorini bursts with tourists as locals call for a cap (Reuters) Armed with selfie sticks and phones, the tourists flood into Santorini from everywhere—on dinghies from giant ocean liners, on coaches that zigzag up the steep hillsides, atop donkeys that clip-clop along the narrow cobbled streets. Some brave the afternoon heat to find a good spot among the white-washed houses and blue-domed churches where they then wait hours to watch the Greek island’s famed sunset. As the sun dips, many more join them, squeezing along the cliffside or onto balconies, cameras at the ready. For many of Santorini’s 20,000 permanent residents, the once idyllic island of quaint villages and pristine beaches has been ruined by mass tourism. As protests against excessive tourism erupt in other popular holiday destinations, including Venice and Barcelona, Santorini represents one of the starkest examples of how hordes of visitors can impact a place. The growing number of foreign tourists—some 3.4 million visited the island last year, according to mayor Nikos Zorzos—are putting pressure on its outdated infrastructure and are pricing islanders out of the housing market.

Russia, adapting tactics, advances in Donetsk and takes more Ukrainian land (Washington Post) Russian forces have mounted an arc of attack in Ukraine’s eastern Donbas region, pushing through intense summer heat in a bid to extend Moscow’s steady territorial gains and capture the city of Pokrovsk, a key transit junction. The offensive is underway as Ukraine continues to suffer from a shortage of soldiers and as election turmoil in the United States has set off new speculation that Kyiv may soon be forced to negotiate a surrender of lands. After an influx of American weapons and money helped Ukraine blunt a renewed invasion of the northeast Kharkiv region in May, preventing a major breakthrough and dashing Moscow’s hopes of surrounding Ukraine’s second-largest city, Russian commanders have refocused their attention on the Donetsk region, which may have been Russia’s objective all along. The reinvasion of the Kharkiv region, while yielding limited gains, nonetheless diverted Ukrainian resources.

India: Violence against Christians (Religion News Service) In June, Bindu Sodhi, a 32-year-old tribal woman from a small village in the densely forested state of Chhattisgarh, in central India, was killed by her neighbors while tilling her ancestral land. The villagers stoutly warned her family not to set foot in the village unless they gave up their Christian faith. Local police shrugged off Sodhi’s killing as a land dispute, despite the fact that, over the last four years, Hindu extremists and even some of Sodhi’s close relatives had been pressuring her to renounce her Christian beliefs. Attacks on Christians, who constitute only 2.3% of India’s 1.4 billion people, have risen sharply over the last few years. The main perpetrators of these crimes are extremists who believe Hinduism, India’s most prevalent faith, is synonymous with Indian identity and citizenship. Last year, the United Christian Forum, a human rights group based in New Delhi, recorded 733 incidents of violence against Christians, with an average of 61 incidents every month. “There is a surge in violence against Christians,” said AC Michael, the group’s national convener. “The government is doing little to curb police and mob brutality against Christians accused under anti-conversion laws and the undue violation of our rights.” Targeting of Christians has been going on in India since the 1990s. The gruesome murder of Australian Christian missionary Graham Staines, along with his two minor sons, by Hindu extremists in 1999 brought the world’s attention to the violence being meted out against the community. But with the rise of Modi, head of the Hindu nationalist Bharatiya Janata Party, the scale and magnitude of these threats have increased significantly.

Netanyahu says Hezbollah will pay 'heavy price' after deadly Golan Heights strike that group denies (AP) Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu warned that Hezbollah “will pay a heavy price for this attack, one that it has not paid so far,” his office said after a rocket strike Saturday at a soccer field in the Israeli-controlled Golan Heights killed at least 11 children and teens. It was the deadliest strike on an Israeli target along the country’s northern border since the fighting between Israel and the Lebanese militant group Hezbollah began. It raised fears of a broader regional war. Israel is blaming Hezbollah for the strike, but Hezbollah has rushed to deny any role.

An Israeli airstrike hits a school sheltering people in Gaza, killing at least 30 including children (AP) Israeli airstrikes hit a school used by displaced Palestinians in central Gaza on Saturday, killing at least 30 people including several children. Seven children and seven women were among the dead taken from the girls’ school in Deir al-Balah to Al Aqsa Hospital. Israel’s military said it targeted a Hamas command center used to direct attacks against Israeli troops and store “large quantities of weapons.” Hamas called the military’s claim false. Civil defense workers in Gaza said thousands had been sheltering in the school, which also contained a medical site. Associated Press journalists saw a dead toddler in an ambulance and bodies covered with blankets. Shattered walls gaped and classrooms were in ruins. People searched the rubble strewn with pillows and other signs of habitation.

‘I just feel like living every day’: oldest American, 115, offers tips for longevity (Guardian) The oldest person in the US offers two bits of advice when asked for the keys to her longevity: “If the good Lord gave it to you, use it” and “Speak your mind, don’t bite your tongue!” Elizabeth Francis’s pearls of wisdom were recirculated widely as she celebrated her 115th birthday on Thursday. Francis was born in 1909 in St Mary parish, Louisiana, about 90 miles (145km) south-west of New Orleans. She was two when the Titanic sank and had turned 11 before women gained the right to vote in the US. She has seen the end of both world wars, lived through 20 different US presidencies and survived two of the deadliest pandemics: the 1918 flu outbreak and Covid-19. Francis has previously attributed at least some of her longevity to her religious faith. Fellow worshippers from the Good Hope Missionary Baptist church join the family and friends who visit her daily at the home she shares with her daughter, Dorothy Williams.

[duskythesomething]

omfg have i ever even given y'all the rundown on Tamakii's whole story?? he is such a Sad Boy allow me to explain-

so a few years back i had my first ever Real DnD with my ex and some former friends. i homebrewed my own race of catpeople that are essentially smaller humans with varying levels of feline features rather than straight up furries and called them Felikin, and i made Tamakii. this is the first depiction of him!

and whoo boy, i packed some backstory into this fella. Tamakii was sold off by his family, who lived in poverty, both to support their other children but to hopefully give him a chance at a more fulfiling life. he was bought by the royal family of the kingdom they lived in and groomed to be a guard for their young princess Natalina. they were both roughly similar in age, so they grew up together, and she was the only companionship he ever had. the idea was, either he survives and succeeds in his everlasting job, or he fails and dies trying and they just find a new guard for her. lucky for Tama, he's capable with a sword and in some magic, and he has an ability that allows him to take on a werecat form to protect others.

eventually, around the time that Tamakii was turning 20, their kingdom and a neighboring kingdom went to war. the battle came closer and closer to the city with the palace, and all hands ended up on deck fighting a losing battle. while his job was to protect Natalina specifically, he was also made to fend off attackers at the castle. in the midst of the battle, Tamakii got knocked unconscious by some sort of blast, and (where the DnD storyline actually began) woke up nearly a decade later, a continent away, buried halfway under rubble.

crawling from the wreckage, Tamakii was immediately thrown into typical DnD shenanigans, particularly fighting off and investigating a necromantic zombie apocalypse. the only important character from the party was a half-giant named Viggo, also searching for the special lady in his life. they do eventually find her, and Viggo parts ways with the group. the group also uncovers a dragon egg, which Tamakii lugged around until it hatched into a baby Tiamat, whom he named Tie-Dye. Tie-Dye stays with Viggo and his wife for the majority of Tamakii's adventures.

Tamakii's overall goal in life had shifted- he was supposed to be a protector and he failed. now, he was trying to figure out what exactly happened and get his shit back together. spoilers- he doesn't. i prefer to leave current-canon Tamakii off here, sad and angsty and struggling with his purpose in life especially regarding devotion to others. there is, though, two divering futures for Tamakii.

either way, Tamakii learns that it was Natalina who sent him away, hoping to give him a life of freedom she felt he deserved. her whereabouts are unknown, dead or alive, and the old kingdom definitely collapsed in that great war. in the first future, nothing spectactular happens, and Tamakii is just a really sad guy weighed down by failure, trying to move on with his new dragon child.

in the other future, Tamakii takes that fucked up necromancy knowledge he gained during the apocalypse and goes batshit crazy, trying to find Natalina to revive her and bring back his old life except, undead.

all in all, Tamakii is my sopping wet tragic catboy meowmeow who i use as a channel for all my Own personal failures and angst! here is a link to his Artfight page to see other art and facts about him: https://artfight.net/character/1653149.tamakii

[laurenceslife]

Chapter 20

            Next morning, Larry went over to Bruce’s place.

- Fish has told me that you haven’t had any girlfriends yet – he said after some talking and a pause – It can be freaking bad to live that way; I was considering helping you. I also know how to do it.

- Pal, I’m simply just particular! – Bruce laughed.

- I thought about it; that's why I looked for some new girls with Jenny.

- Well, OK, since you two have done it already, I accept it so it’s not wasted, but you two shouldn’t have worked because of me. But how will I meet with them? – he burst out laughing.

- You’ll go to run or to swim where they can go ‘cause two of them do that, or you’ll go to the theater like the third girl, and you could tell her as a boast that your best friend plays in the theater, too.  One hundred percent that she won’t shake you off if you tell her which movies I’ve played in ’cause she’s seen them; my series she watches, is in broadcast exactly now too. If you don’t find them in any of them, then there are the other girls who you can meet in those places. Those are still much more communities than only school. If you don’t like anybody in any place, you can try it by going to some other places systematically. Now we found only three girls of your age group; here are their characteristics and where they can go, but if it doesn’t work, don’t give it up in other places either – Larry gave him the slips of paper where Jenny wrote them down.

- Wow, thanks bro.

- It also came into my head that maybe Emily knows one of them in person, and knows exactly where to find her – nowadays, he didn’t want to talk to Emily, but at least he had to do that terrible thing with her less in vain.

- OK, thanks.

            Then Larry immediately went to Emily’s house, to get the talking with her done soon about where the girls went systematically.

He rang, and Jack answered the door.

- Emily’s not in a good state of mind now – the man said sincerely after they had said hello.

- I still have to meet with her now – the boy insisted on it.

- Dad, let him in! – Emily shouted out from her room. Her door was open slightly so she saw who he was.

The girl called him into her room, and the boy cheerlessly sat down next to her, on the peach colored bed.

- I feel sorry about what happened last night... - Emily said in a low voice, with grief and repentance in her voice. She was really looking horribly – You’ve got to know that I would have never done anything like that, I was just dead drunk! - she sobbed – I only did that ‘cause I couldn't be controlling my feelings under the influence! If you just knew how hard it was, not using the opportunity, not going on with that kiss! But I didn't do anything like that to you even under the influence because I love you!

Larry was surprised. He didn't even count on the girl to say sorry for what happened at the party. And he had never thought she also wanted from him more than friendship when she was sober.

- This is a sheer stupid occasion for a love evidence ’cause I was sleeping about a half an hour because of the guilty conscience, and there can be very big rings round my eyes – Emily laughed through her tears.

The boy had no idea since when the girl had been loving him but it didn’t even interest him.

- The situation’s odd. You bribed me that you would turn the music down in exchange for a kiss, then you said you were in love with me; like a bitch transformed into such a girl who’s in love… - Larry said unkindly – I think you still have no idea what you did! What you feel, is nothing compared to what I suffer because of Jenny! ‘Cause she freaking didn’t deserve it, even though she doesn’t know about it, and after what happened, still she was the one who used the opportunity for my sake, by you were at least good enough to turn that damned loud music down! – Larry shouted.

Emily was only sobbing, and had no idea about what Larry was saying but it didn’t even interest her.

- By the way if I had known what a bitch you are, we wouldn’t have been friends even for a minute – he said in disappointment, and left the room.

- Wait! – the girl shouted after him desperately, and ran after him to the living room – So why did you come here? – she asked in a low voice and hopelessly.

Larry only left without saying a word, and postponed the original subject to talk about that when he would calm down.

            He tiredly arrived home. He was having a big quarrel with his already ex-friend after he was trying to help Bruce. He tiredly sat down on his bed. He wasn’t desiring anything else but resting and Jenny. He used to plan that he would be studying but he had no vigor to do it. Until he would fly back to Asia, he wanted to be with Jenny, anyway.

Then something came into his head.

Emily could tell her what happened between them at last night's party.

He even had to meet with Jenny immediately so she wouldn’t have time to talk with Emily – he thought.

He hurried to the phone, and called Jenny, but she didn't answer the phone - It signaled it was engaged... Maybe she happened to be telling her - he thought.

He set off for the girl’s house in a hurry to arrive there still in time, maybe she or one of her parents was still talking to somebody else, or her sister was talking to somebody.

On the way, he was thinking about if Emily had told her what happened, his relationship with Jenny was probably over forever, and he couldn’t even flee from the situation to anywhere because in the filming location, he had to see poor Francis’ bitter fight for his movie.

            When he had arrived before the girl’s house, Emily answered the door.

Larry got frightened almost to death that he was late.

Emily looked at the unexpected guest with a veiled look.

- I’ll speak to Jenny. I’m not even here anymore – she mumbled in embarrassment, with a lowered head, and hurried out of the house.

Then Jenny came out, wearing a black and white shirt with a necklace that contained several colors, there were pearls on it and was knotted into a knot in her neck, and she was wearing dark green pants. She looked troubled, too.

- Hi – she said in a low voice.

At least she didn’t chase him away… - Larry thought.

- Hi… - he didn’t know what to think.

Maybe she still didn’t know it??? – he thought.

The girl called him in her room, and they peacefully seated themselves next to each other, on the pink bed.

Larry was already more and more hoping that Jenny didn't know anything.

- Emily just told me – the girl said in a low voice.

So she still knew it – Larry thought. He felt like everything was over.

- I think she’s told you too – Jenny continued.

What??? – the boy thought.

- But accordingly you haven’t succeeded in persuading her out of it, either – the girl continued.

Talking her out of what??? – Larry thought.

- I don’t even know why she came to my house. We hardly know each other – Jenny was considering.

- What are you talking about now? – the boy asked wonderingly and uncomprehendingly.

- She hasn’t told you??? – the girl was surprised – Ooh, then I’ve got to tell you… - the girl sighed - Emily wants to commit suicide.

- What??? – Larry was even more surprised.

- I have no idea what happened, she just constantly kept repeating that she did some hideousness and that she can’t go on anymore that her love hates her because of that.

- She surely won’t commit suicide; she only wanna have him in terror and manipulate him, otherwise she wouldn’t have told it to anybody! – the boy said contemptuously.

Jenny was reflecting.

- And why am I the one who she told it to? – she was uncomprehending.

- You surely know that person who she’s in love with, and she thought you’ll tell him too.

- Maybe… But wait! You said at the party that a horrible thing happened, and she said she did a horrible thing, exactly one day after that! So you know what happened. But why is it better if I don’t know about it??? – the girl was shocked.

It was unbelievable. He already thought that he would get away with that thing cheap, then he had to explain himself – Larry thought.

- How do you know it’s about the same thing? Maybe it’s only a coincidence – he tried to save the situation.

- I don’t know… Can Emily have to do with what happened last night? Tell me only this much!

- Why do you care about it so much? You hardly know Emily! – Larry hit the roof.

- I was thinking about why you didn’t tell me what happened, and I’m more and more afraid of you hiding something before me ‘cause what happened, that would change our relationship. Especially ’cause you’re defending yourself like this! – Jenny almost shouted, too, with fright in her voice and look.

- So you don’t trust me anymore.

The air froze, and the girl couldn’t answer for some seconds.

- I very much would like to but I don’t know if I should – she said in the end, sluggishly.

- OK, look at me! I love you, and I’ve never desired for anyone else since we’ve been together.

Maybe he was better to tell her – he thought – Maybe Jenny thought something worse than what really happened.

- You asked me if Emily had to do anything with what happened last night – he said.

- Was anything between you two? - Jenny asked with big, horrified eyes.

- There wasn't any such thing between us what you think.  Though I don't know which possibility is worse, I didn't want anything between me and Emily. I've already told you that I love only you and I wanna only you, and it was that way then too.

- So? - the girl was completely flurried.

- Emily was dead drunk, and I wanted to accomplish what we went there for - he sighed - Both of us made a big blunder. It was such a so stupid situation, it would have seemed to be a trifle in other circumstances, but you also could see how much I snapped after I was forced to do that.

- Tell me now what you two did! - Jenny asked him for it already almost hysterically, on the border of snapping, too.

- Actually it all was that much that I asked her to turn the music down ’cause that way, it was impossible to chatter - Larry said in such a stress like it was of no significance but his head was lowered - She said if I would kiss her, she would do it. First, I roughly rejected her offer, but in the interest of the aim, I changed my mind. You can't even imagine what I felt after that... I've never had so much guilty conscience before, and since then, I’ve been feeling like Emily’s my biggest enemy in the world - he sighed again - You didn't deserve what we did to you. For a while, I wanted to tell you, but later I thought it was better to you too, if you didn't know that, and I couldn't endure it if I lost you.

Jenny was only sitting motionless like who went into shock, and her tears were flowing.

- Just so you know it: if I got into that situation again, I wouldn't do it. And you can imagine what it felt like, seeing it till the end that after what happened, you were still helping me to accomplish my goal. And Emily’s not among my friends anymore, and I never wanna see her again.

- I don’t know what to say… I’m flurried… - Jenny said, sobbing, and her head leaned on her hands. For the time being, she hadn’t been able to decide what to do then. If she would break up, she would lose the boy who she loved, but she wasn’t sure that she hadn’t lost him already that night when that kiss happened.

Maybe he was never hers… Maybe he was just a boy who she used to believe to be such one who she could love – the girl thought.

- Now go away please! – she said.

Larry was terrified again that he could lose Jenny, and wanted to comfort that girl who he so much loved and who was suffering so much then, but he knew that he couldn’t do it then, so only left the house.

He was also suffering, at least as much as Jenny. He had no idea what to do if the girl would break up with him.

            This day was long. As soon as he had arrived home, he threw himself onto the sofa in front of the TV, to have a good rest after the events.

Exactly a Superman-movie was on TV which he always loved in comics too.

This was the first time in his life that it wasn’t holding his attention, because the grief shot through his heart that he wasn’t having any reason to be happy about anything, because Jenny may break up with him. He didn’t even know if he should call her to ask her if she had decided, and he neither knew when to ring her, and the dread of losing his girlfriend and the doubts of what to do, were almost driving him crazy.

It seemed he already had to ask Bruce to repay him what he had done for him – he thought – because he had to call him to ask what to do.

Then it came into his head that he hadn’t even had any experiences in a thing like that, as an addition, then he would have to tell him the story, and he didn’t want to let poor boy know that at the expense of what they helped him.

He set off to call Zac, and during it, his mother spoke to him about she was going to Jack’s house.

- Be careful ’cause there’s a melodramatic cow who’s sheer depressed, and constantly talks nonsense about some suicide… - Larry said incidentally, cheerlessly.

Hattie was lingering before her son, startled.

- Jack’s said he needs someone, anyway because his daughter’s completely snapped, but I didn’t know that the situation’s so serious… But you’ve at least tried to talk her out of it, haven’t you?

- Oh Mom, I’ve told you that she’s only flying into a tantrum! Why would she have spoken about it if really that was her plan? So people would talk her out of it or prevent her from doing that???

- You guys had a quarrel with each other over something? – Hattie was surprised, put her purse down in the entrance room, and went in the living room – I didn’t know that you have something to do with that situation, too – she sat down to the sofa – I’m not leaving you here now when you’re in such a state of mind like this. I can see that you’re broken down because of something, too. Is Emily the cause of that? 

Larry nodded.

- What happened between you two that led to this? – the woman asked – Wait, I’ll speak to Jack about I’ll go only later!

While she was calling the man, Larry had no chance to be telephoning with Zac.

His mother had finished the conversation with Jack a minute later, and sat back on the sofa to continue the questioning.

- Well, will you tell me what happened? – she asked.

- Why would I tell you? – the boy asked back.

- Maybe I could help you.

- Mom, I’m not a small child anymore whose mommy can solve all his problems! – Larry said, almost shouting it.

- Laurence, this is a very serious thing. Emily wants to commit suicide…

- I’ve already told you that that bitch doesn’t wanna do anything like that; she's just talking nonsense!

- OK, then she keeps repeating that. But this is also very brutal, don't you think?

- So what? It's simple. We’re not friends anymore, and this is all! And that cow will get over it.

- Well, it's your business - his mother stood up, and set off for the entrance room.

- Where are you going now? - Larry was surprised.

- To Jack's house. Maybe he can tell me what happened.

- He said to me he didn't know anything, either - the boy said intentionally - But who knows, maybe that girl has already told him...

Hattie had left, and Larry was considering if he should call Jenny, then arrived at a result that he was better not to ring her that day because if he would have done it, it would have been a bigger chance of spoiling the situation than he’s bettering it.

He turned on the TV again, and was trying to concentrate on the TV but didn't succeed in it.

He decided to go to his friends’ place who he had seen a long time ago, moreover, rather to be inviting them, and organizing a party.

Then he lost interest in it because he couldn't introduce Jenny to them.

The phone began ringing.

Tension permeated through his body because maybe it was Jenny; he slowly picked up the receiver. He was terrified that the girl was going to break up with him, and at the same time, the hope of their making peace with each other, was getting stronger in him.

It was his grandma who he hadn't met with since he came home; she was Hattie's mother Molly.

But Larry became maybe even tenser because the dread of losing his girlfriend was lasting on.

- We could meet together with Classie and her kids. I think you guys don't really feel like traveling nowadays, you guys have to fly back to Asia soon, anyway, so I think it would be more comfortable to you guys if I was going. I’m not gonna stay for long, I don't wanna be bothering you guys, you guys hardly have time to meet with everybody, anyway; just who knows when you guys will be able to come home next time, and I’m not gonna see you guys - the woman said.

- OK. I'll tell Mom when she comes home – her grandson said.

- Don't you know when it would be OK for her? And for you?

- For me, whenever. I think for her too.

- It's the same, tell her to call me back to arrange it.

- OK.

- So we’re gonna meet soon! I'm looking forward to it! Well, bye!  -  Molly finished cheerfully.

- Bye...

Larry tiredly replaced the receiver after he was completely concealing during the whole conversation in what a worthless state of mind he was after suffering that conversation with his mother, Jenny and Emily till the end...

He sighed from the grief and the exhaustion, went to the kitchen, drank a beer, and went to sleep.

Since he drank the drink fast and didn't drink often, as an addition, this day wore him out, and the alcohol made him sleepy and eased his grief, he fell asleep fast in his bed.

            In the morning, he got up like usual, and after he had set off to take a shower, it came into his head what happened yesterday, and the grief shot through his heart again.

He calmed down a bit by the hot water, then it came into his head that he hadn’t spoken to his mother about Molly calling them to tell them that one day, before they would fly back, she wanted to come to their or Classie's place.

He was considering what to say to Hattie about why he hadn’t spoken to her, but when he had finished taking a shower, gotten dressed, left the bathroom, and asked her about if she had called her again, his mother said she hadn't.

- She said to call her back to tell when it's OK to you, when she should come to our house with Classie and the guys, or when we and she should go to their place - Larry said in the living room where he met Hattie.

- Why did you go to bed so early last night? Why haven't you told me? - the woman asked.

- I forgot it - the boy said a bit dryly, going to his room.

Hattie called Molly, they arranged the meeting, and then she went into her son's room.

- You didn't feel like being awake so you drank so much alcohol that you felt better but still not good, but you drank enough booze to be sleepy, and went to sleep, didn't you? - Hattie asked but she already knew the answer.

- I didn't drink a lot, just fast - the boy said sullenly - So when and where are we gonna meet with the guys, Classie and Grandma? - he changed the subject.

- She’s gonna arrive here at half past one in the afternoon, and Classie and the kids are gonna come at two; she’s arranged it with them too. And now, you could tell me what you snapped so much by.

Then the phone rang; Larry answered it in the living room.

It was Bruce.

- Well, when will we meet today? - he asked.

- It's the same to me - Larry said.

- So one hour later, at my place?

- I’ll rather set off now – Larry said to shake his mother off, and planned already in advance that he would be talking about Bruce’s things only, or about joint things, so Jenny and Emily wouldn’t come up – Are you having time?

- Aha. What about going to play basketball? I'm gonna call the common pals too! - Bruce said roughly and cheerfully.

It was an even better idea... - Larry thought.

- Sweet! So we're meeting on the ground – he said.

Larry had left; Hattie was furiously watching it because he fled away from her question.

The boys were playing for one hour and a half, then the two cousins went home together.

- That car’s cool – Larry said about that car that was parked alone on the other side of the way.

- I'm gonna start to learn to drive soon – Bruce said – I look forward to that! And by the way it’ll be a lot easier to go out on the pull when I can drive! I’ll surely find a required one of a bigger choice.

- When are you gonna start to go to one of those places where one of the girls we found for you, goes? – Larry asked so Jenny and Emily still wouldn’t be coming up, but then he regretted asking it because it came into his head that he hadn’t asked Emily yet about if she knew those girls, and if she did, exactly where they went. That would put the lid on it if he would have to be talking to Emily again - I’ll ask Emily today if she knows them and where they go, then you could start it – he was resigned to it; at least it would have sense what they did to Jenny, and at least he would get it down soon that he had to be talking to the girl who he hated.

- OK, thanks bro.

- And don’t forget that if you don’t like any of them, it’s also possible to go to other places where there also can be some girls under the age of eighteen!

- Many of those girls who are in their twenties, are dead super numbers, too, just I don’t think so that they wanna be dating a minor. But adult girls’ figures are much finer.

- And white girls are also at least as beautiful as nigs, just it’s rough to be with them before the racist rude ones.

- Blacks have beautiful, big eyes and sexy lips but whites are more beautiful about everything else.

Larry calmed down because Bruce so much liked white people, because at least two were white of the three girls who they found, so he got a bigger strength of mind to talk to Emily, to give sense to what happened at that party.

            When his cousin was going home on another way already, Larry was considering about how to be speaking to the girl after the way he had treated her – He still hadn’t wanted to make peace with her, but just on this one occasion, he needed to be pretending that he was ready for it – he thought – Then he would make her come a cropper. It served her right after she put his relationship with his girlfriend in danger. He could lose his love, while she was only losing her old friend „twice”… 

As soon as he had arrived home, he furiously went up to the phone to take revenge on her for what she did to him, and he needed all his actor’s talent so it wouldn’t be his hatred that would be heard in his voice.

Thanks to his good memory that was necessary in acting, he remembered the qualities of the girls who Jenny found, so he didn’t have to ask Bruce about them.

Not to be meeting with Emily, he decided only to be calling her.

After he told Jack that he wanted to be talking to the girl, Emily already joyously began to speak in the phone:

- I knew you would forgive me!

Larry was speechless for quite a few seconds – She really had no idea about what she did… Now it came out that she was really only flying into a tantrum and trying to make him pity her till the end! – he thought.

- But you still know that there can’t be anything between us – he said, a bit embarrassed after calming himself.

- Of course – the girl said in an understanding but mournful voice.

- On the other hand, one of my friends needs a girl. Jenny was looking for some girls for him at the party, and wrote their characteristics down. Do you know any of them personally? A fifteen-year-old high school student who studies three streets from you guys, has two bros who are three and ten years old, and her hobbies are dancing, her bros and running?

- Maybe. I know somebody who goes to high school three streets from here, is fifteen years old and has a three- and a ten-year-old bro. Probably she is her. Her name is Tracy.

- And don’t you know where she goes exactly?

- Well, where it’s possible to meet people, is the disco where she goes – she gave its name, and explained how to find one’s way there – The girl’s half black, she has long, dark brown but straight hair, big, slits of eyes, she’s a bit short, she has pretty, cool, still cute face. She’s got a very tough and girly style, and loves cute things.

Larry was writing these for Bruce. First, he thought the girl’s age and where he could find her, were enough, but then he realized that Bruce also could look for some girls under the age of eighteen in parties and in other communities, but Emily had gotten to know her friends already, so Bruce didn’t have to get to know them for long how Emily got to know them.

- And what is her figure? – the boy asked, so if his cousin didn’t like her look, inside either, he wouldn’t have to meet with her.

- She’s thin but her breasts are small, too – the girl said.

- And is she shapely, sporty or very thin?

- She’s athletic.

- OK. And do you know a fourteen-year-old one who studies to be a nursery school teacher, is half French so can speak in French too, lives next to my school and her hobby is swimming?

- I know a half French girl but I think she’s already fifteen years old, and I don’t know anything else about her.

- And a sixteen-year-old one who studies to be a secretary, goes to the theater, has seen two of my movies, still watches my series, has reddish brown, half long hair and light blue eyes?

- Yes! Her name’s Judy, she’s average build but has big breasts, her hips are wide, her lips are plump, but she’s religious, she grew up in a dead old-fashioned family so her parents maybe don’t let her be with a nigger, losing her virginity before marriage either. Or isn’t your friend black?

- Yeah, he is.

- So he’s tall, isn’t he?

- Aha.

- So at least this is good about it ’cause Judy’s tall, too. It would disturb her if she was dating a shorter dude so she finds partners with difficulty. And she hates concentrated booze, and hates when somebody’s pompous. She goes to that theater with her family where I appeared after I changed theater. On the other hand, she goes to swim alone; now she goes to that swimming pool that’s in my school’s street, next to the department store; and she goes to the beach in the summer with her friends, mostly to that one that’s behind our first theater.

- OK, thanks. Bye.

- Bye… - Emily was disappointed while replacing the receiver because then they were only talking about it.

Larry immediately rang Bruce after he had to endure this conversation with the girl.

He told him that he got the places where they could meet, except one girl, but he also got some new information about the two other ones, and he asked him about whether he should transcribe them or to give him the slips of paper.

Bruce said to him to only give them to him tomorrow, and they arranged that tomorrow, at four, they would meet at their place, and then, in the evening, they were going to go to the cinema with one of his other cousins and with Larry’s father, to watch an action movie. Laurence had rang them and arranged it with them already.

Then Larry went to study in his room, and one and a half hours later, he was reading a comic while listening to the music, then had lunch, and then saw a Peter O’Toole-movie.

- What’s your plan for tomorrow after Grandma goes home? – Hattie asked after the movie had come to an end.

- I’m gonna go to Bruce’s place, then we’re gonna go to the cinema with him, Lar and Fish – the boy said, still sitting on the sofa. Lar, whose name was Laurence, too, was called Lar.

- You were having lunch alone on purpose, waiting until I had eaten, so we wouldn’t have to be talking to each other, weren’t you? – his mother asked furiously and strictly – You’re a kid yet; if some big trouble happens to you, I have to know it.

- It hasn’t happened yet; it’s just happening or only may happen – Larry stared ahead sullenly; his feet were pulled up on the sofa.

- But as soon as it happens, you are going to tell me, aren’t you? – the woman asked strictly, standing with arms folded, and there was anxiety in her eyes.

- And anyway, it’s a grownup-thing; it’s none of your business – her son said angrily, still staring into space.

- But you're not an adult yet; you don't understand grownup things yet. You need some help. This way it's little wonder if some horror is in preparation if you live adults' life so soon like this, without help - Hattie's voice was determined, almost imperative. 

- This is such a thing that’s adults' and teenagers' thing; only not small kids' one.

- If you're trying to conceal that you already want a sexual relationship with Jenny, she just doesn't want it yet or you have some other problem in connection with it, you know that I will get to know it, anyway, if you two go too far while being young teenagers! - his mother said furiously and threateningly.

- Think what you want! - the boy said furiously, went into his room and slammed the door.

- How dare you speak to me like this?! - the woman shouted into the room - There's no going to the cinema tomorrow! And you're not allowed to be going to Bruce's place either! - she went into the room.

- Your trials to be warranting don't touch me; Fish called us to the cinema, who knows when I meet with him next time, and also, punishing is his duty! He’s gonna punish me if he’s got a disagreement with me!

- Enough is enough. I’ll call your father – Hattie set off, to telephone, and her son slammed the door after her.

Larry threw himself onto his bed, and was sulkily reading his parts of the script that he took from his bedside table.

It came into his head that they had to fly back to the filming location the day after tomorrow – It was sheer unhealthy that they didn’t get even a week between two flights to the other side of the Earth! – he thought – It would have been better if they wouldn’t have even come home; then he and Jenny wouldn’t have had a quarrel with each other over anything!

He was overcome again by grief because he could lose her.

He leaned his head against his hands and ran his hand through his hair, and desperately looked up at his mother when she came back in his room.

- Your father’s not home. If you tell me what the matter is with you, I won't try to call him again – she said because she saw that he had some much bigger problem, it wasn’t that she tried to call his father so he would punish him.

The phone began ringing. Just in time again.

Hattie looked at her son in disappointment and furiously when he was leaving.

Larry had answered the phone.

It was Emily.

- What do you want? – the boy asked bluntly.

- I’d just like to ask you when we will meet – the girl said, startled.

- Never – Larry said, and replaced the receiver.

- Well, will you tell me what Emily did to you? – Hattie, who was standing there, next to him, asked.

- Quit my life now! – he shouted, and went to the entrance room.

- Where are you going?! – his mother shouted after him.

- None of your business! – the boy shouted, and left.

[thedreadvampy]

I think it depends on what your worries are. If you're concerned about the information end - the data harvesting and misinformation and algorithmic manipulation - (very valid) then yes today's socials are much worse.

If you're worried about the social end - the grooming and exploitation of vulnerable young people, the hardcore mass bullying, and the surveillance-paranoia of spending your life growing up under constant observation, and also tbh the just Extremely Online Behaviour it tends to cultivate - I'm not sure how much worse it is, because I think these are just the intrinsic hazards of young people sharing public platforms, particularly with adults, and I think the culture of abuse on Myspace or Facebook was just as severe and far-reaching as on TikTok

On the other hand there's another factor which is the age from which you get submerged in those spaces and the associated degree of spillover with meatspace. And that's not because Young People Today Be On That Phone but because a) when we were 7 or 8 centralised social media didn't really exist yet and b) phone tech has moved on so fast in the last 20 years and now if you have a phone you have social media, and people on average have phones WAY younger bc the tech is way more affordable. and you can't disengage half as easily from socials, especially with the degree of monopolisation and cross-party logins that means you're constantly using Facebook to access other stuff. So obviously the culture of social media is different and more entrenched for people a decade younger than us.

sick to death of both younger and older people acting like tiktok is a unique breeding ground for grooming, misinformation and drama as if that's not the case for every majority-teenager social media site since the dawn of social media. listen. for people my age and a bit older MySpace, Facebook and Livejournal were just as fucked up. for people a couple of years younger than me yeah Twitter and Tumblr and Snapchat did just as much to screw people up.

That doesn't mean tiktok's problems aren't real or worth taking seriously. it is pretty objectively Bad the degree to which social media targeted at teenagers incentivise bullying, grooming, and living your life in full view no filters. but I don't think it's new or peculiar to tiktok. although the increasing move towards face-first platforms like Instagram or TikTok does seem like it intensifies problems that were already present in text-first platforms like previous gens.

anyway I get why ppl act like it's a Terrible New Threat. ppl my age do it because we're getting old and it's a Scary Young Person Thing. gen z ppl do it because they weren't here for the previous rounds of fucked up social media so this seems like a new thing. But like. It's a real issue but it's not new. that's actually how we know how bad it is imo, bc we now have the benefit of hindsight watching the long term impacts on the first cohort of people who grew up with social media as a big part of their teens (I would say anyone who was in their teens around 2003-2005 so like. people my age to people a couple of years older than me). and it's for sure a mixed bag but boy howdy there's some Shit in that bag.