#but they’re not and it’s just like last summer

[xhazzz]

Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader

Bouquets & Barbecues

warnings: none, more of Jake being a sweetheart

summary: just Maverick being a little over protecting with his daughter and Jake being cute as always

a/n: ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LENGUAGE so feel free to correct me if there’s anything wrong :)

masterlist || request’s are open

For the end of summer and to take a break from work worries, Dad had organized a barbecue in our backyard, inviting everyone: the Dagger Squad, Penny and Amelia, and even Hondo and Cyclone. Everyone was supposed to bring snacks and drinks, while Dad took charge of the meat. But he seemed to have gotten a little carried away, buying enough to feed every football team on the coast.

“Dad, are you feeding the Daggers or the entire Arctic Circle?” I asked as I arrived in the backyard with the cooler.

“Have you seen how those guys eat?” Dad replied, firing up the grill. “Just Rooster and Hangman alone will eat half of this. Speaking of Hangman…”

“Dad,” I sighed, placing my hands on my hips, “I’m not a little girl anymore. I’m too old for this.”

“No matter how old you are, you’ll always be my little girl,” Dad said, walking over and kissing my forehead. “Seresin better never hurt you, or I’ll have six confirmed kills in the air.”

“I think he got the message after all the extra drills you’ve made him do on base.”

“After seeing him make out with my daughter on my front porch, can you blame me?” he added, shaking his head. “I still need to have a serious talk with him.”

“Stop, Dad,” I replied, covering my face with my hand in embarrassment.

He just laughed as I walked back into the house. Moments later, I heard the doorbell. The gang was starting to arrive.

“I’m here!” Rooster shouted, barging in like he owned the place, with Phoenix and Payback right behind him.

“Come on in, guys. Dad’s out back,” I said, giving Nat a quick hug and putting the drinks in the fridge. “He bought enough meat to last us all fall.”

“Your old man promised to host the best barbecue of the summer,” Payback said, accepting a beer Rooster handed him.

We all headed to the backyard, and it quickly started filling up. Everyone had arrived—except Jake. I was starting to feel nervous, knowing it was only a matter of time before Rooster and Dad started teasing me.

“Punctuality doesn’t seem to be his strong suit,” Dad commented, handing me a plate of sausages.

“Come on, Dad, it’s just a regular Saturday, not a base training session,” I replied, pretending not to care. Hangman better show up soon.

“You’re wrong, sweetheart. It’s not just any Saturday,” Dad said, pulling up a chair and sitting beside me. “It’s the first time I’ve invited everyone to eat at my house. And if I’m not mistaken, Hangman is dating his trainer’s daughter.”

“I told you he’s just another idiot,” Rooster chimed in, sitting on my other side and trapping me between the two pilots.

“You too?” I asked, rolling my eyes.

“I’m just making sure no one breaks Baby Mav’s heart,” he replied in a baby voice, pinching my cheeks.

“Get off me,” I laughed, playfully pushing him away. Just then, the doorbell rang. Saved by the bell.

I rushed to the door and found Jake on the other side, flashing his charming smile. He was wearing khaki shorts, a casual navy blue shirt, his signature aviator sunglasses, and his hair was slightly messier than usual—no gel today.

“Hey, you, Seresin,” I greeted him with a quick kiss. “You had me worried. I thought you weren’t coming, and I’d have to endure Dad and Rooster lecturing me all afternoon.”

“I’d never stand you up, darling,” he said, placing one hand on my waist and pulling me closer. I noticed his other hand was behind his back, and next to him was a small cooler, likely filled with beer. “I was just running late picking these up for you.”

From behind his back, he revealed a beautiful bouquet of gardenias and lilies in various shades.

“They’re gorgeous,” I said, taking them in my hands. “Thank you, honey. You didn’t have to.”

This time, he placed both hands on my hips, rubbing them affectionately, and pulled me into a tender yet passionate kiss. We were interrupted by a fake cough behind me.

“Watch those hands, Seresin,” Dad said, standing there with Rooster, both wearing their overprotective hawk stares.

“You’re late, Bagman,” Rooster added, stepping forward to grab the cooler from the ground.

“Damn, Chicken, you’re annoying even off duty,” Jake sighed, shaking his head and guiding me inside the house, his hand never leaving my waist while he used the other to close the door. As we walked through the kitchen, I quickly placed the flowers in a vase with fresh water.

“Thanks for the invite, Mav,” Jake said, smiling politely.

“All pilots are welcome here,” Dad replied with a nod toward the backyard, “but how you treat my daughter will determine how welcome you really are. Don’t forget who’s in charge.”

“You have my word, Mav. I only have the best intentions…” Jake started, but I quickly cut him off.

“Enough, both of you. This is so embarrassing,” I muttered, shaking my head at them. “Let’s just eat before the food gets cold.”

“Lead the way, my lady,” Jake said with a tight-lipped smile, walking behind me while Dad chuckled, crossing his arms.

[marstonsboy]

had another evil thought that spiralled out of control. indulge me for a moment:

over the years, people start arriving on a near empty plot of land west of blackwater. it’s uncertain who got there first: bessie matthews, beatrice and lyle morgan, eliza, isaac morgan, etc.— but more and more people show up until it’s something of a community. jenny kirk, mac and davey callander. then soon after, jake adler, sean macguire, kieran duffy, hosea matthews, lenny summers, molly o’shea, eagle flies, susan grimshaw. more and more in such a short amount of time. arthur morgan is the last, and suddenly the deaths stop.

after a sudden stretch of years with little newcomers, a house starts taking shape. soon enough the house is a home, and peculiar things can be found all over: a dog barking where no one can find it. echoes of campfire songs going late into the night. photos of john and abigail’s wedding, attended by what remained of their family. a taxidermy squirrel that appears back on the mantle no matter how many times you throw it out, wearing a very familiar hat. in just a few years a heartbreakingly young girl comes home, bearing a strong resemblance to one abigail marston.

then, gunshots. john marston and uncle are the next to arrive.

in the next few years, the house is eerily quiet. the residents see it falling into disrepair, but they can’t do anything about it. the dog stops barking, the campfire has gone cold and won’t relight. abigail marston is next, and though they’re happy to see her, the arrival brings up a question. what happens to jack now?

the livestock are gone, and the house is dusty, all but stripped of the knickknacks and personality that built up over the years, like someone found it all too painful to look at. john’s hat and guns, once tucked away inside a box beneath the bed, vanish the night after abigail arrives. newspapers come to the door, announcing the death of former government agent edgar ross.

soon after, a wanted poster, bearing the name “john marston jr.” and a sketch resembling the boy’s namesake so much that it has john himself stumbling back. jack was only a boy when he left, and now he’s wanted dead or alive, with a price over his head that could rival some of his uncles and aunts back in the day.

every year that passes without any sign of jack is a relief. the house doesn’t change much, still abandoned, but letters come in. mary-beth gaskill, tilly jackson, simon pearson, sadie adler, charles smith— old friends and family, checking in on him. none of them reach the recipient, as he is not home, but they’re filled to the brim with love, letting him know that he isn’t alone. that he always has a home with them, if he wants it.

one day, john spots a book he doesn’t recognize on the shelf by the piano, and he stops. “Red Dead” by a J. Marston. it doesn’t take much to figure out who that could be. he opens it, flips through, and reads it to abigail. the kinder parts get read to their daughter, ecstatic to learn about how her older brother is doing. their son did become a writer after all, even if everything he’s written speaks volumes of his grief, his anger. the loneliness he’s endured since losing his family, and killing edgar ross.

arthur morgan opens his old journal to find several entries and sketches from john, but also many new ones from jack. his handwriting is just as clumsy as his father’s, but his drawings are more refined. little portraits of the gang members that lived and scribbly sketches of what the world is becoming in their absence decorate the pages. war, cars outnumbering horses, and a very detailed drawing of a revolver none of them have ever seen before.

he’s all grown up, and good lord is he angry. he’s mourning, and hurt, and he’s lost so much, but he’s still undoubtedly jack marston. he draws dogs and writes about missing rufus, slipping strays some food from his bag whenever he sees them. sometimes he’ll write a dry, sarcastic joke that speaks of his father’s influence, or mention missing his momma’s cooking, “even though it was hardly edible,” which makes abigail roll her eyes. he hates fishing and prefers to lose hours of the day with his nose in a book. the best maintained part of beecher’s hope is the graves on that hill, which gain new flowers every week. sometimes, if they listen close, they can hear him talking, telling his ma and pa what he’s been up to, though he saves the grisly details for his book.

and when jack marston finally does walk through that door, much older than when anyone he knew last saw him but far too young to die, he is welcomed home with open arms. because no matter what he’s done, and no matter how much he may hate himself, he will always have a home here with people who love him, and who can’t wait to get to know him all over again.

[paperstorm]

(I'm so sorry if this posts twice, I had it queued but tumblr seems to have eaten it) Thanks for the tags @annoyingcloudearthquake @rangersoup @thisbuildinghasfeelings and @carlos-in-glasses! Here is a snippet from Somewhere in a Song, chapter posting tomorrow :)

It takes Carlos a moment, as he steps into the main part of the theater from a side entrance, to notice he isn’t alone. TK is sitting at the edge of the stage in the middle, with his legs hanging over the sides, purple Converse on his feet and black jeans despite the summer heat outside.

“Oh,” Carlos says in surprise, from yards away where he’s standing in the aisle between rows of red velvet chairs.

“Hey.” TK nods at him in greeting. His hands are tucked underneath his thighs and Carlos looks around quickly, wondering if TK’s bandmates are here as well. He thought he spotted Marjan back in the lobby of the hotel, but now he’s wondering if it wasn’t her. He only saw the woman from the back.

“Where’s the rest of your crew?” TK asks, echoing the question Carlos hadn’t gotten around to asking.

“Back at the hotel. Relaxing.”

TK nods again.

“What are you doing here?”

Raising an eyebrow, TK combatively asks, “What are you doing here?”

Carlos bites back a sigh.

Before he can reply, TK gives him an answer. “We’ve never been at this venue before. The last time we were here, we played some rinky-dink place across town.”

Their eyes meet and their gaze holds for a long moment. Carlos steps forward, walking further toward the stage. He climbs the five steps up the side of it and turns so he can take in the seemingly endless rows of seating from the vantage point he’ll have tonight when they perform on this stage.

“I like to get to know a place before I play it,” TK continues with a casual shrug. He looks around, leaning back on his hands and head tipping back to look up at the high vaulted ceiling, intricately painted in gold and red and orange. “Especially these old historical theaters. Get a feel for the bones of it, a feel for …”

He trails off and Carlos finds himself desperately curious to hear the end of the sentence, because it sounds so much like exactly what he was doing five minutes ago. TK looks over at him, and then quickly looks away.

“Never mind,” he says, with a laugh and a roll of his eyes. “Did you want the stage for something? I can head out.”

“A feel for what?” Carlos asks.

TK licks his lips. He’s wearing glittery earrings today and they sparkle in the overhead lights. His head turns again, blinking at Carlos, green eyes searching his face. Whatever he’s looking for, he must find, because softly he says, “For the artists who were here before me. Jazz bands or opera singers or – I don’t know, fucking … tap dancers.”

Carlos chuckles and watches as just a glimmer of a smile changes the shape of TK’s face before he’s gazing back out into the empty auditorium.

“Maybe it’s stupid,” TK says with a shrug. There’s an edge to his voice that suggests he’s daring Carlos to make fun of him and see what happens. “But I like to think everyone who gets to perform in a place like this leaves a mark on it. Like they’re all still here, somehow, and after tonight we’ll be here too, cheering on the next act that comes through.”

“It’s not stupid.”

Silence settles between them for another moment, and then TK asks, “So, what are you doing here?”

“Same thing, basically,” Carlos tells him honestly.

TK looks at him, and again Carlos feels as if he’s being x-rayed by those clear green eyes. “Really?”

“Yeah. That’s what music can do, right? Make you feel like you’re part of something bigger than yourself. Bigger than just a song or a show or a moment in time.”

Tagging @theghostofashton @reyesstrand @strandnreyes @eclectic-sassycoweyes @carlos-in-glasses

@bonheur-cafe @actual-sleeping-beauty @herefortarlos @heartstringsduet @alrightbuckaroo

@goodways @lightningboltreader @emsprovisions @freneticfloetry @liminalmemories21

@reasonandfaithinharmony @ladytessa74 @never-blooms @sanjuwrites @orchidscript

@lemonlyman-dotcom @jesuisici33 @kiwichaeng @honeybee-taskforce @hereghostslive

@just-inside-her @firstprince-history-huh @captain-gillian @tellmegoodbye @ironheartwriter

@butchreyes @anactualcaseofthetruth @ditheringmind @thisbuildinghasfeelings @whatsintheboxmh

@irispurpurea @nisbanisba @corsage @chicgeekgirl89 @nancys-braids

@carlossreaders @denizoid @everlastingday

Want to be added or removed from the list? Lmk

[aspecbuddie]

Thinking about Eddie wondering how the fuck he's ended up living here again after he thought he'd got out for good. He thought he wouldn't have to go back ever again once he'd moved to LA other than to visit.

Because visiting is extremely different than living here again. Same shit, but with an end date in sight.

There's no end date this time, just a constant dampened mood that he cannot shake no matter how hard he tries.

It's only been two weeks, and he's already having to spend ten minutes sat in his truck before he goes inside the house, because he thought he'd be able to find a house sooner but no, he's ended up staying with his parents, and his son who is slowly letting him back in but too slowly to not make Eddie feel like utter shit.

And being here is the right choice, because Christopher is here, and he's done missing out on his son's life.

But then two months in he goes back to LA for a few days - accompanying his abuela on a trip to see Pepa mainly, but he makes time to see everyone he left behind, and its the lightest and easiest that life has felt since he moved, since Chris left for Texas last summer.

Still, he misses Chris. He cries in the bathroom on the flight back, because it had almost felt normal being back there, like he was gearing up to return to the 118 after taking some personal time to visit Texas, and not the other way around.

The brief respite feels invigorating; it makes everything he's returning to in Texas feel so much easier. He can do this. He can live in Texas and visit LA and most importantly mend things with Chris and things will get easier.

And then the first twenty four hours back in Texas he's reminded why he left in the first place. Things haven't changed. They're the same as they were when he was a kid, the same as they were before the last few days, and of course things wouldn’t be any easier. Since when does the universe give him a break like that.

It feels worse, even, because his visit to LA was a glimpse into how life used to be, that it did get better for a brief moment in time. But he doesn’t get that. Eddie’s not allowed that apparently. So reality comes crashing down on him harder than before. Not the soft gentle easing back into Texas living that he had a couple months ago, but suddenly and immediately feels impossible.

But he bears it, for Christopher.

He never does find a house in Texas, so he spends a suffocating six months at his parents, simultaneously feeling ten years old and older than ever.

Then one day Christopher turns and asks when they’re moving back to LA – a possibility Eddie had completely ruled out until this point – and they start making plans to move back.

A month later, Eddie is sitting in his truck again, smiling to himself and wondering how he ended up back here when he thought he never would be. It doesn’t matter, he doesn’t care. A year ago he thought he’d completely ruined his life.

He’s in the middle of taking a moment to be thankful when Buck knocks on the truck window and asks if he’s actually coming inside to get changed before their shift starts.

Now he’s home.

[lightlycareless]

Do you think you could write a little something about Naoya jerking off to Y/N but they’re yet to be together or they haven’t had sex yet so it’s just pining and fantasy x1000000000. Like that almost pathetic type of yearning/lust that leaves him feeling embarrassed after he’s finished TEEHEE. Obviously you don’t have to write it since it is so…shamelessly horny lol but at least now you too can have that image of Naoya in your head >:3

Hello!!!

Pathetic Naoya is 100% in character; the type of guy to portray himself as all macho and such but the moment his loved one touches him he's nothing but a trembling, squirming mess.

Luckily, this prompt is a two-way one, meaning we'll get one with Y/N's pov hehe, but in the meantime let's do Naoya's 😏

warnings: smut. not really explicit, it's like all in naoya's mind. still, minors DNI. slight highschool au? it's very early in their relationship. naoya has an awakening lol.

The honeymoon stage in your relationship finishes quite quickly.

Not in the sense that Naoya’s adoration for you dwindles; no, of course not. If anything, it just grows stronger the more time he spends with you.

It’s more in the manner of the innocence behind the relationship; the early stages of such and how most of his desires dwelled in simply holding hands, embracing you, and above all, doting you with endless gifts just to see that adorable, flustered reaction of yours—and naturally, to make you happy.

But that all changes when you… well, provoked him. An unprecedented gush of summer breeze accidentally lifting your skirt and giving him a glimpse of your underwear, a cute white and pink heart patterned panty that remains imprinted in his mind for the rest of his day.

For the rest of the week. Till the dead of the night…

And if that wasn’t enough, to see you during training was—

Like some kind of precocious teenager, Naoya just needed one look at the way your breasts bounced whilst running to have him completely hypnotized; the sight constantly teasing him throughout the day, he couldn’t even talk properly without being a stammering mess! At one point he had to temporarily ignore you just to hold some decorum.

Especially given the way that refused to settle down, becoming even worse as days passed: your mere presence was now enough to rile him up. You didn’t have to do anything specific, by simply sensing you near, he stirred alive, and no cold shower was to ease him.

Soon, his last resort became his only solution, right after his arm “accidentally” brushed against your boobs, quickly heading back to the dorms once the school day was done to put an end to this whole…  problem.

Perhaps the only surprising thing out of this was how long it took him to act—succumb to his desires, so to speak—since Naoya’s never been one to shy away from doing what he wants, especially when it comes to his pleasure.

Already an expert at the matter, it didn’t take much for him to get in the right mood, just by following through with any of the scenarios that have been torturing his mind for the past few days would do the trick: but he’d still end up going with his favorite, the reason why all this spiraled out of hand in the first place.

Now that his little secret is out, Naoya will not deny that the thought of your breasts has crossed his mind a few times prior to this situation. From the cute, pastel colored bra he presumes to be matching with your panties—to the soft, warm skin underneath you diligently covered yet slyly teased him with whenever approaching you. It’s almost like you knew what you were doing! So close to his grasp, and yet—

It wasn’t of utmost importance for him to see them to tell they were perfect in every sense of the word; fitting perfectly in his hands for him to tease and enjoy; especially those sensitive, perky nipples, he would die to pinch and suckle, watching you squirm underneath his touch and yet, cannot keep away—not when he’s keeping you in place.

“They’re soft, princess.” He’d murmur, latching his lips onto your buds and gently biting it, making you moan in return. “Sweet too, probably ‘cause of all those mochi you eat.”

“Na—Naoya! Don’t say that!” you blush, and he simply smiles, relishing your taste.

But ultimately nothing compared to your cunt, the precious mound he cannot wait to claim, taste, see—though it’s already a given of his ownership.

He daydreams of the moment he’ll be able to make you his, imagining how he’d place you over his bed, with you shyly yet dutifully keeping your legs open and giving the shrew sight of your pussy for his sole eyes to admire.

Naoya’s breath would hitch soon after placing his fingers besides your lips and spreading your slit open, unable to look away as he zealously takes in everything: from its enticing color to subtle twitches, and of course, soft whines whenever he’d so much as breathe onto your sensitive clit…

He’s unable to stop himself from placing his tongue at the bottom and take one long stride along your cunt, enjoying your deliriously saccharine slick and the suffocating pressure of your soft thighs instinctively clamping around his head.

And after Naoya’s had his fair share of teasing you, it was time for the main course.

If your walls were already agonizingly tight in his fingers and tongue, it was only exhilarating to imagine how it would feel with his cock buried deep within you—he’d probably die when doing so!

Ah, to spend his last moments of life enjoy the burning, gooey feeling of your walls holding on so strongly onto his cock, as if the briefest moment of emptiness were pure agony, would be a nice way to go; but of course, Naoya doesn’t intend for his life to end right then and there, not when there were many, many more things he’d like to explore beforehand with you.

Such as his eventual release, his deepest desire demanding to claim his rights over you by painting your walls white with his thick, burning seed; to do so as many times necessary until your cunt was shaped as his cock, rendering your pleasure useless unless with him. As it should always be. Will be.

Obviously, he’s quite aware of the risks this act conveys—presenting problems either are too young to even consider—but never too ignorant for a solution: your face is a very suitable option too.

Which you’d gladly take as well, your beautiful, flushed face looking up to him as you eagerly squirmed and pressed your legs together, eyes tight shut but mouth wide open while presenting your tongue, a look that wantonly urged him to finish quickly, reward you for being such a good girl, before going ahead and doing it all over again.

Surely there’s no way he’d think you were actually satisfied with that one time, right?

“Naoya…”

His hand tightens around his shaft, fervently moving up and down as you then look at him with those pretty eyes of yours that always made his heart skip a bit—but now, filled with lust, just made his cock grow even harder.

“C’mon Naoya, gimme your cum!” you’d cry, desperate for his precious seed no one else but you deserves. A privilege only the love of his life could have. “I want it, baby, please!”

“Y—Y/N!” he breathes, his grip stronger, his conviction angrier.

“I need you…”

“Fuck!”

The mess he ends up doing that night is one that makes him elated for having chosen the bathroom to takeout this activity, far bigger than any he has done with other women as center of his desires, but as expected for the first time touching himself at the thought of you.

And yet, even when he’s got an immediate issue to worry about, whether cleaning up or coming down from his orgasmic high, all that he could feel was the shame his release left him ruminating on, his mind disgracefully admitting he had tainted your innocence, the loving, perfect image he had of you with his own perversions—all because his inability to keep his impulses on check, take things slow as you were undoubtedly hoping he’d do.

Because why would you avoid anything remotely similar to the subject, if your heart wasn’t far away from this travesty?

Those around him were right to think he was undeserving of your love, of your patience. Naoya was nothing more than a monster, slave to his own filthy desires, it was only a matter of time before he succumbed to them and tried to pull you along.

However, even with all that burdening turmoil, that didn’t stop him from seeking his release yet again soon after, and again, and again, and again… Naoya lost count of how many times it took him to finally calm down, completely unaware of time as he eventually grew tired, cleaned up, and headed to bed with intentions of placing order back in his mind.

You deserved better, is what Naoya said to himself as he eventually yielded to slumber, a good man.

But oh, if he only knew you had done the same too.

Let's not forget that while Naoya is a huge pervert by himself, Y/N is too lol. Usually the one to have all these kinks that has Naoya thinking "oh wow I never knew you could do that but YES let's try it out."

Perfect for each other, as it should always be.

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this small piece of a pathetic Naoya 😏 while I initially just intended to write this it also inspired me to do something for Y/N so be on the lookout for that 🤭

Thank you so much for sending in this ask 🥺❤️ and for your patience as well ❤️❤️❤️❤️

Now, take care and hope to see you soon!!!

[astrobei]

do you think mike heard will cry himself to sleep the first night he was in lenora? if he wasn’t staying in will’s room then maybe he couldn’t sleep either and he was tossing and turning for hours before working up the courage to walk down the hall and see if maybe will was still up. maybe he got all the way up to his door before he heard it— stifled sobs, muffled and choked out like they get when you’re specifically trying very hard to not be heard crying. and the first thing he feels is guilt, because he knows why will is crying, and he just keeps playing on loop in his head the way will’s face had fallen when mike didn’t hug him at the airport. how he should have just gotten over whatever had come over him in that moment and hugged him anyway, if it was going to hurt him like this. and then he feels even more guilty because this is will’s private moment, and mike isn’t supposed to be here, and god, he can’t even let will be upset in peace without intruding. do you think he walked back to his bed in silence, probably missing will even more than when he was still in hawkins?

(because i do. i think about it a lot.)

[the-meme-monarch]

i love the interpretations of Any of the pines being trans but to me mabel and dipper Are fraternal twins they are just also both trans. they just swapped names and ‘pretended’ to be the other. i know dipper being transmasc is like the most popular trans hc in the fandom, so to me this is why dipper’s name is mason but he always wanted the name tyrone

[hootyhoowoo]

A little 15 min doodle but first post of the year has to be Bingqiu!

[davidlikebowie-noturaccountant]

you guys ever think about the fact that charlie and neil probably barely talked in the summer. that they were best friends but neil, or both of them, were just so busy over the summer that they barely talked. that charlie, or both of them, were so worried on the first day of school every year that they weren’t going to be close anymore because they hadn’t talked. and then they get to welton and it’s like no time has passed because they’re not best friends. they’re brothers.

[you-wanna-know]

When is it going to get warm enough that I don’t have to wear jackets/cardigans????

[spoofyleaf]

Sometimes I remember that my whole house was so obsessed with the show Merlin, that we named the first tree we planted in the yard Merlin.

When it was given to us 11 years ago it was hardly a scraggly stick, and now it looks like a giant bush

Artist rendition

[lovetogether]

Doodles just now

[james-spooky]

this is a test

[deathsmallcaps]

I work as the person in an amusement park who watches the children who get lost. Here’s some advice. This also applies to any mentally disabled adults that are under your care. Keep in mind that many places will not look for a minor ages 13-17 unless it is close to closing or they are disabled, as corporate considers it a strain on resources and employee use.

1. Teach them your phone number. Best gift you can give them. I’m not supposed to have my phone out at work but I can cut down dependent’s being-lost-time by probably 400% if I can contact you. It also assures the children That We Are Doing Something and that They Are Helpful and Smart. If your dependent has a poor memory, apparently writing your phone number in sharpie and then covering it in nail polish makes it stay all day, even if they’re sweaty or getting in the water. I haven’t tested this but I’ve heard a lot of moms recommend it. I’ve also seen bracelets with little plates or the beads saying the phone number.

Addendum: your dependent may tell you that they know your phone number, but they actually only know your passcode. True story. This summer has been a lot better, but last summer exactly one child the entire season knew his mom’s phone number.

2. Acknowledge that dependent’s memories are faulty, especially in new places. If you tell them to meet you in X spot or that your stuff is all in Y place, they may not remember where it is or remember how to get there.

3. All dependents, but especially little ones, have shit time sense. They might find your stuff, wait there for a minute or two, and truly believe that they’ve been there for an hour. Half the small kids that are brought to me are ones who *know* where their stuff is, but haven’t seen an adult they know personally in 5 minutes, so they’re going to panic.

4. Don’t take naps!!! And don’t let your dependent go anywhere you can’t go or at least go where you catch them at the end!!! Yes you’re staring at the play structure your dependent entered, but can you see them? No? Then there’s a good chance they went elsewhere. So many of the littler kids that are brought to me are brought by genuine, good-hearted strangers who see lost children and take them by the hand. Away from the spot you’re napping in front of/staring vaguely at.

5. This might just be something from my work, but we will not call dependent’s descriptions over the loudspeaker. This is because if an asshole were to see your dependent, hear the description, know it’s a lost dependent, and decide to steal it, they can then use the excuse, “I know where your guardian is! Come with me!” And then lead them out of the park or toss the dependent over their shoulder. Do you know how many crying and screaming dependents leave the location every day? A lot!!! We’re a fun location!!! We’re not going to know if the dependent is screaming because they don’t want to leave or if a stranger is taking them away. We might call the description over the loudspeaker if it’s past closing time and the dependent still isn’t found. But before that, we will only report it over secure radios across the park.

6. Tell a park worker right away. Preferably someone with a radio. Even if you spot the dependent within the next minute, that means the dependent will have less being-lost time. Especially if we already have the dependent with, you guessed it, me. Also please tell us when you find the dependent.

7. Take a picture of your depdendent at the start of the day! That way security guards can have a good idea of what to look for. One mother told me her daughter was blonde and showed me a picture. Her hair color looked brown to me, but then I knew what to look for in the crowd.

8. Keep at least one person in your group in one spot at all times, especially if you don’t have access to your phone or forgot to give out your phone number to the guards. That way they can find you if they pick up the dependent. If you are the only person in your group, then PLEASE stay in one place or at least stay with ONE security guard. It sucks for the dependent if they can’t find you right away even if the both of you are looking for each other and a guard is helping them. You are NOT helping if you panic and run around. And keep your goddamn phone on you and answer calls from unknown numbers!!!!! God. This is a good time to do that.

9. If you lose your dependent in an attraction like the lazy river at a water park, and you have that ONE person staying in place, then this is what you can do with 1+ mobile people.

A. If only one person can be spared to be mobile, have them pick a spot and stay right there, watching the river go by. Eventually, if the dependent is in the river, they’ll go by.

B. If you have two people that can be mobile, both start at the same place in the river and go opposite directions. If you meet up again without spotting the dependent, well, they’re not there.

C. If you have more than 2 people, you can do B but also station different adults at the lazy river entrances/exits.

10. Don’t blame the dependent! Even if they ran away and/or are pissy that you’re upset once you all reunite, trust me, there’s a 99% chance they’re upset too. Yes, this is a good time to have a serious conversation with them. Yes, if this is a repeated problem, and/or you warned them you’d leave the park if this occurred, you should not back down. But also - they’re dependents. They’re not stupid, and they should be told consequences and dangers so they can make good decisions, but they will never have the adult/guardian perspective that you do. Be kind.

Also please for my sake teach them if they’re brought to someone like me, that it’s THEIR job to be safe and listen to me while us park workers look for you. It’s YOUR job to find the dependent, not the dependent’s job to find you. I had a six year old little girl genuinely toddler-howl at me because she wanted to go look for her mom. I’ve never before heard a kid her age howl like that. I can trick kids out of crying 9/10 times but howling came as a surprise lmao. I think I can manage it now that I’ve experienced it but damn.

Also make sure those kids are DRINKING. Being in a water park is NOT the same as drinking water. They should be drinking every 15 minutes at LEAST, I am NOT kidding.

Also if I call you to tell you your kid is here, please don’t call or text me back after you have the kid. I’m sure other places have phones for these types of things but the only one I have is my personal phone. And I am happy to get the kid off my hands and into your arms, but I’m using my personal phone so plz. Don’t call me back. Absolutely call me if you need directions to my ‘office’ in the park. Don’t call or text me after. I have stories about that hoo boy but this post is already long.

[national-hockey-gay]

my granny: i’ll send you money for groceries and your heart failure meds when college starts up

my mom: why do i have to drive you to the airport? 😫😫😫😫😫 can’t someone else do it??

my dad: what school are you going to this year?

[phantomdecibel]

what if we were two aye-ayes cuddling on a branch together in the dark (and we kissed) ?