#man who lies about his age to seem younger lmao

[marshmellowtea]

i literally cannot overstate how much it shook me in world tour when sierra said chris was born in 1978 which means he was probably around 29/30 in the original series. i thought he was in his 40s this whole time but no he doesn't reach his mid 40s until the reboot......i feel sick this is just WRONG

[lucysarah-c]

Once I read a headcanon that the very first time levi laughed like actually laughed with tears was when some young girl tired to compliment ( or insult in this case lol ) Erwin and said he looks pretty fine to a 40 years old man and he was in his 30 😂😂😂

It's like this tiktok when a man ask a woman to guess his age and she said he's 29 and the dude was 24 😂😂

OMG HAHA Levi would definitely laugh about it. I like to think that within his inner circle, Levi genuinely laughs more often, especially when he's a bit tipsy; a good dark-humor joke would be dropped here and there, you know?

But about Erwin's age. Oh God, for me, it's undeniable. It's undeniable that Erwin has some "age issues," lmao. To me, this man embodies the concept of those guys who "grow into their face." You know, those guys who have an old face despite being young, and they look a little odd? I'll let the evidence speak for itself.

And as they mature, they "grow" into their features, and they look quite handsome, you know? In my culture, we say those men are like fine wines; they only improve with age, haha.

And with that said, Erwin has always seemed older. He tries to brush it off, but it's evident that it bothers him. I firmly believe Erwin is one of those adults who yearn to connect with the younger generation, to serve as a mentor, guiding them through the challenges of adolescence haha. He's like "yes, seek my advice for romance, ask about dressing for a first date, or if it's normal to have a crush on a teacher". He would gladly offer wisdom.

…but No. Not a single cadet has ever chosen him as their mentor. They come with weird questions, and don't ask me why, Levi, despite appearing unfriendly, somehow attracts the most random asks. Levi is embraced by the youth, whereas Erwin isn't, and that stings. He doesn't quite grasp their humor, their fashion sense, or their slang, despite his desperate attempts to fit in. And therein lies his downfall—he's not effortlessly cool; he's trying too hard.

Moreover, he looks older. This man is on the verge of a midlife crisis, and the only reason he hasn't succumbed to it is because he's already burdened with too many scars from his days in the Scouts to handle any more mental issues, haha.

[sailorhyunjinz]

~ 𝐈𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐬 ~

𝘞𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 ; chan x fem!reader, bonnie&clyde!au, criminal!au, 60′s!au, bank robbery, heavy use of tobacco, explicit language,weaponry, mentions of infidelity, manipulation, mentions of murder, mentions of reader being smaller than chan, mentions of religious beliefs, authorities, american style!au, death, implied su-cide. 

𝘯𝘴𝘧𝘸 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 ; SMUT!! sex against a wall (lmao good warning there cherry), dom!chan x sub!fem!reader, angry sex, dry humping, degradation, blowjob, face fucking, rough sex, dacryphilia, choking, possessiveness, implied corruption kink, creampie, unprotected sex (be careful plz), piv, clitorial stimulation, orgasm (m/f), cum. 

𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵 ; 5.9 k 

𝘕𝘰𝘵𝘦 ; this was heavily inspired by both well bonnie and clyde but also “the serpent” because holy fuck i loved that serie so much 

also warning right; this is purely fiction and not meant to romanticise crime and i think it’s pretty obvious that i don’t know shit about how to rob a bank neither do i know anything about weapons,,, so take this with a grain of salt.

𝘊𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥.

𝘗𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘰𝘧 18

It was love. Love had led you down this path and shattered the one you cared the most about, the one that held your hand, the one that promised to die for you. Silence filled your mind as you stroked his cold cheek, his eyes closed. 

Your partner in crime.

Bang Chan.

“Tonight, coming up on channel 4, the continuation of the Lagoons.”

You turned the knob on the car radio, the windows on the silver vauxhall viva rolled down, your hair fluttering in the light breeze that accompanied the summer heat. The voice on the radio got distorted as you shifted channels, the antenna on the car barely being able to pick up signal from how far out in the desolate area the two of you were.

“Who the fuck watches the lagoons?” you said, furrowing your eyebrows, searching for some funky tunes as Chan was driving, one hand on the steering wheel, the other resting on his thigh. He laughed, the cigarette smoke whiffing over to you, burning at the tip and hanging out of the corner of his mouth. 

“Where we heading, sweet cakes?” he asked, cocking his eyebrows and checking himself out in the rearview mirror. You scoffed, adjusting the silk scarf around your head and reaching into the glove compartment of the light colored interior of the car, grabbing the half empty cigarette box. 

“Don’t call me that, I’m married” you say, the flicker of the metal zippo echoing, a purple flame igniting and burning the white end of the cigarette in your mouth, the orange part quickly stained by your lipstick. Chan smirked, casting a glance at you as you puffed, putting the lighter on the dashboard and leaning back against the leather seats, exhaling the smoke through the window as you observed the mountains that passed you, sweltering heat making your vision blur.

“And still you fuck me. What’s he good for? Cheating on you? You should just throw that ring away, I’ll buy you a new one”

The ring.

You and your ex-husband never officially divorced. You just packed up your things and left one night when he was out drinking, probably snogging a woman younger his age. The emerald ring that he once put on your finger held no meaning, it was simply for aesthetic now. Memorabilia from when life was worse, reminding you to always strive for something better. It was ironic, the way the sun shined on the emerald green symbolizes wealth and toxic jealousy. You couldn’t help but to feel jealous of the many young women he spent his nights with. You thought you had moved on but maybe you hadn’t since you refused to let go of the ring. Thank god you didn’t have his child or else you’d be tied down for life. You escaped at the right time. 

You didn’t answer Chan, simply staring out at the window. The car zoomed past with speed, there was no time for resting since you two were the infamous criminals that could be captured at any moment, it was still a miracle you were alive and well despite how many times you’ve been in open fire with the authorities. The two of you always managed and had each other in the end and the plethora of guns that were loaded in the trunk could buy you freedom for a little while. A gritty highway that never seemed to end, the tumbleweeds rolling about in the distance, he searched for a place you could rest since dusk would soon arrive. Life as a runaway couple had it’s ups and downs but the worst part of it was not knowing if you would survive another day, cops could just arrest you, rip you from your lover and lock you up like you were once before, writing love letters to Chan on a filthy piece of paper until you were bailed out by none other than your mother that you abandoned for him. They didn’t understand. He might be a criminal, stealing cars with his older brother since he admired his fancy lifestyle with hookers, expensive liquor and gold. He was so close until he stumbled up to you through a mutual friend and fell head over heels, he was too much of a hopeless romantic for him to be able to lead such a lifestyle. 

A big sign was ahead of you, a small red building inching closer to the two of you. Sure, it wasn’t the safest place, anyone could call the authorities on you but luckily telecommunications weren’t that advanced out here, most of the news being the ones you heard from between others lips. You two were simply a married couple whatever new village you infiltrated or at least that’s what people thought, the two of you were simply well-off, being able to afford the most expensive cigars and perfumes. The cigarette had burned down, almost meeting your plush lips that were covered in the latest lipstick. You threw it out the window, Chan had done the same moments prior. 

“What you say, hm? How about here for tonight?” he asked in a low voice, his hair slicked to the side, his jaw clenching as he rested his head on the headrest, looking at you with a quick glance with a smile. He always smiled when he gazed at you, it was almost a reflex. He was too smitten with love. You nodded, grabbing your oval sunglasses from the seat in between you and Chan, putting them on and observing yourself in the exterior mirror. Now you were ready for greetings with strangers, hiding behind your dark tinted shades.

The young man swerves onto the dusty driveway, the dust billowing from behind the car as stones flew everywhere, the car coming to a hasty halt. Your back bounced against the seat, removing your safety belt and opening the car door, stepping out with your shining red heels. The hotel seemed kinda small, perfect place for two sought-after criminals to hide. The building was a cherry red, tacky curtain in mustard yellow covering the chipped white window frames that held up the grimy glass panes. It lied in a remote place, being the only building as far as the eyes could see, beside the hotel there was a kiosk where one could buy the most basic necessities like bread, milk and cigarettes. As you were looking around the place, standing with your feet wide and your hand on your hip, Chan was busy unpacking the car. Not the weapons that were nicely hidden beneath a blanket but your two small briefcases containing nothing more than a couple of expensive clothes, makeup, a small notebook of your poems, a camera and photos of relatives. As you observed the mountainous landscape and dry land where cactuses made their home a small old man hurried out, dressed in a half-dingy suit and vest, the colorful tie being the main focus.

“Welcome welcome!” he says in a scurried voice. “Please, let me!” The old man shuffled over to Chan, grabbing the briefcases out of his grasp to which Chan bowed subtly in thankfulness. You and him followed the man inside through a lime green door and were greeted by the lobby that had a dark oak check-in counter, decorated with small trinkets of older times, a golden clock and small piles of paper. The man put down the bags in front of the desk, you casting a glance at Chan that was looking at the keys and the tags attached on the walls on small hooks.

“How long will you be staying for?” the man asked to which Chan hummed, looking at you before clearing his throat and answering - “Just one night”

“alrighty hmmm,,, then I’m guessing a double bed would suit your fancy? You do make a lovely couple indeed” he said with a smile, showing off his yellow stained teeth, years of coffee and tobacco. You smiled, clenching your jaw in frustration. 

“Thank you, which room exactly?” you said quickly, wanting the old man to hurry his actions. He looked back, exposing his half-balding grey head of hair and stretched for a pair of keys at the top, the keys jingling as he put them on the desk. 

“Room 4, it’s just here by the side. That will be 30 dollars” he said, writing something down on a piece of paper. Chan opened one of the luggages, quickly pulling out the needed amount and tips out from one of many wads of cash that were neatly tucked away between clothes and other products. He put the green bills on the desk to which the old man heightened his eyebrows, the generous tip falling to his liking. 

“Keep the change” Chan said with a smile, picking up the briefcases and heading to the room. You smiled at the old man as well, picking up the keys and turning to head over to your lover. 

You put the keys in the lock of the brittle wooden door, a small golden plate saying ‘4′ with a clear font. As the door opened you were met by a rather rustic room, the walls colored light blue and the bed frame the same wood as the door, murky white duvet covers on the bed. Luckily it was just one night.

Chan started packing up your belongings, mainly picking up a map of the area that he bought at a supermarket hours prior. He unfolded the bunt of paper, laying it flat on a vanity that had a round mirror attached in front. He placed his index finger harshly on a certain point on the map, his fingers clad in all kinds of rings with jewels. 

“Here we are, Johnsons motel, right?” You nodded at his question, him continuing talking in a firm voice. “So if we take this route tomorrow at around 9 am we should be there by 10:50 am which is perfect, we c-” You interrupted him mid sentence.

“Chan, you told me we weren’t gonna do this until next week, we have money!” you yelled, only then remembering that the walls are thin in such a matured building. He sighed, turning to gaze at you with dark eyes. He hated it when you contradicted him, it was almost like he was addicted to making you his slave and sure, he did take care of you whenever you were hurt due to his actions but he liked having you totally dependent on him, risking your life for him. The veins running down his arms got bolder, he moved the arm that was holding him up from the vanity instead standing right in front of you with a wide stance, his eyebrows heightened.

“What did you say?”

Your back hit the tasteless blue wallpaper as Chan walked towards you, trapping you between the wall and his muscular figure. A harsh gulp descended down your esophagus as you gazed intently into his hooded eyes, yours twinkling with mere innocence though you were far from innocent in the eyes of the public. He looked you up and down, almost swearing with his eyes, gliding his tongue against the inside of his cheek. 

“I said why can’t we just wait with that for a bit? We robbed multiple stores last week and we have money? I don’t see why you need to hurry so, like fuck s-”

“So you think money grows on trees? We do this together y/n and I could just leave you whenever, I’d just laugh seeing your ass trying to survive”

He leaned closer to your ear, his body pressed against yours. His hot breath lingered near you, tickling the shell of your ear.

“Or better yet I could kill you, no one needs a criminal” 

His voice vibrated through you, the deep tone scaring you but oddly turning you on, the heat pooling around your core, your panties sticking to the thin fabric of your panties. You burst into laughter, catching him off guard.

“You motherfucker” you said through your teeth, smiling brightly at him. 

“I don’t like this attitude you’re giving me y/n, I’m not joking with you” he said with a devilish smirk, moving away from your ear and staring into your soul. It was almost as if he stared through you, his jaw moving as he clenched it.

“Does it look like I’m joking?” your facial expressions turned serious in seconds, the smile wiping off your face. You looked him dead in the eyes, not even flinching when he smashed the rough palm of his hand on the wall next to your head, the loud sound echoing in the cool room, the slight humming of the air conditioner above the bed.

“No and you won’t be after I fuck you” 

You wanted to rile him up even more, get him so angry that he had no other choice but to pin you against the wall and stuff his cock so far down your leaking cunt that you’d alert the other guests around the motel, hearing how good Chan fucks you. 

“Hah,,, is that your only threat?” you chuckled mockingly, running your pointer finger up his toned chest, lifting up his head by his chin and flicking your finger off it, striking a jeering smile at him. His knee traveled up your leg, jabbing at your wet clothed entrance to which you accidentally moan, the gain of friction finally arriving when your core was burning with pure arousal as Chan spoke. With a gleaming look in your eyes you rubbed against his knee, his slightly cold hands wrapping around your neck, feeling your larynx bob when you swallow your spit, not breaking eye contact for a second. His lips landed on yours, pushing his knee against your sex causing you to moan into the kiss as you rolled your hips on the flat surface of his dress pants. Your lips pursed, teasingly biting his bottom lip as a sign that you needed him, his tongue slipping into your mouth and danced around with yours in a sloppy battle. Your hands fumbled with the big metal buckle of his belt, undoing it in desperation and unzipping the black pants that covered his bottom half. Chan grunted as you palmed him through his boxers, his erection begging to be freed from it’s clothed prison, you squeezed his member, massaging it in your hands to make his knees weak, make him beg for you but this time you would be begging for him as he placed removed his knee from your dripping cunt causing you to whine from the loss of contact. 

“C-chan, please I need you” you pleaded in a thin voice, lifting your head up as his kiss diverted to your neck, his rough lips leaving kiss after kiss on the sensitive skin, moving down to your exposed collarbones. 

“You’ll only get what you want if you do whatever I ask you to”

You nodded eagerly, putting your hands down his boxers and stroking his cock, Chan groaning against the skin of your neck near your ear, your earrings rattling. 

“Yes, I’ll do anything! J-just fuck me already” you whimpered, your hot cheek against the wall. 

“Then you follow your little ass to the bank tomorrow and do what you are told, understood?” His voice was deep, humming as he nibbled on your ear, giving it small kitten licks.

“And if I don’t?” You challenged him for a last time, stopping your slow strokes down the shaft of his twitching dick and removing your hands from his underwear and instead wrapping your arms around his waist. He scoffs, pulling back and looking you in the eyes, slowly putting his hand around your throat and tightening.

“I’ll choke you to death, you know I’ll get away with it” he said with a lifeless smirk. You nodded in pure fear, your eyes twinkling in the minimal light that came from the sun setting outside the dusty windows. Suddenly his hands grasp a handful of your hair, gripping it by the roots and shoving you down on your knees that land on the frangible floorboards with a thump. He harshly lets go of your hair in order to pull down his pants and underwear, his hard veiny cock springing free mere inches from your saliva coated lips. Chan gave his cock a couple of strokes before rubbing the crimson tip against your lips, hissing when you poke your tongue out, him smearing his precum against the surface of your wet tongue. You pursed your lips around him, slowly working your way down his shaft, taking a breath of air every time you pull away, licking the underside of his dick with fat stripes all the way from the base to the tip, flicking your tongue off. His big hands grabbed either side of your head, him thrusting inside your throat, not caring if you gagged, that just made him even more viscous, hearing your desperate moaning and seeing the spit run down your chin and neck covered in his marks. Your head bumped against the wall with every thrust, your nose pressing up against his abdomen as he was balls deep inside your mouth. Your eyes burned, tears teasing at your tear duct, a cold salty stream rolling down your cheek as he stopped, pulling out your mouth, you coughing violently. He swiped his thumb over your cheek, wiping the tear with one finger before grabbing you by the neck, lifting your head up and looking into your eyes as he inserted his dick in your mouth once again, your thick saliva making his cock glisten. His silent groans only made you helplessly rub your thighs together, eager to have him inside of you. Every moan that slipped from between his swollen lips made the blood rush south, not to mention his fierce eyes that were glued on you as he coldly fucked your skull, no hint of compassion. He stretched out your throat, the clear outline of his cock making its appearance on your esophagus as he went deeper, groaning as you felt him twitch inside your mouth. As the familiar sensation of a knot in his stomach descended upon him he pulled out, rubbing the tip of his leaking cock against your glistening lips before he was quick with his movements. 

It didn’t take much for Chan to throw you over his shoulder, legs thrashing and you squealing, telling him to put you down. He did but not in the way you expected, slamming you down on the plushy bed, a fine layer of dust swirling in the orange sunset that shined in. The impact caught you off guard, knocking the air out of your lungs. Chan climbed on top of you, his belt buckle touching your body as he hovered above you. You hastily shuffled upwards to the headboard, lifting your hips as you removed your brightly colored bell bottom pants revealing your panties that already had a wet stain decorating them, Chan chuckling as his thumb glided over the patch of wetness. 

“You’re so needy baby, all worked up from giving me a blowjob, huh? I can slip my cock into you so easily” he purred at you, his fingers hooking at the elastic band of your underwear, slipping them down to your ankles, you shimmying your foot out of the fabric and letting the panties dangle from your other foot as your spread your legs, Chan being in between them. He danced his fingers up the wet folds that presented themselves in front of him, you squirming at the slightest touch. 

“You think you have control, you think you can do anything without me? You’re wrong, without me you’re nothing” he growled at you, his fingers covered in your slick as he teased your clit, fingers rolling in circles as you clutched onto the covers, knuckles whitening. You hurried by taking off your top, throwing your bra somewhere in the same direction, exposing your hardened buds, Chan’s mouth watering. He did the same, momentarily losing contact with your wet cunt as he pulled off his shirt, his perfectly sculpted body surprising you every time, as if you hadn’t fucked him countless times before. Chan attached his lips to one of your nipples, the other one being fondled by his hand, the cold pure silver causing you to shiver. Your hands stroked his soft hair, twirling it between your fingers and softly whimpering. He left tiny marks all over your chest, his lips sucking and gently nibbling on your supple skin. When your entire chest was a mess of marks and spit he lifted your legs, leaning them against his wide sturdy shoulders as he teased your wet entrance, rubbing his tip against your folds causing your back to arch slightly, a long pitched mewl forcing its way out of your mouth. When he finally slipped his cock inside you he groaned at your tightness. 

“fuck y/n, you’re so tight no matter how much I fuck you” he said, leaning over you so that your legs almost touch your chest, planting one hand beside your neck as the other one choked you, the restriction of air making you lightheaded but only adding to the pleasure that burned at your core as he relentlessly fucked into your squelching cunt. Your feet dangled near his shoulders lifelessly as the sheer momentum of his thrusts made you move upwards on the bed, the bed frame creaking due to the age it carried, you hoped no one noticed what scandalous activities was going on this room but it was probably already too late as your moans turned into high pitched cries. Your hands folded over Chan’s wrist as you tried to stabilize yourself, it took every ounce of strength to not close your quivering thighs. His thrusts got faster, rolling his hips against yours as the hand around your neck loosed, a harsh slap landing across your tear stained cheek, his thumb dipping inside your mouth, you latching on instantly.

“Look at you, thinking you’re so tough. You’re weak, remember that” he said with a lifted smirk, asserting his dominance through his dark gaze. You nodded, feeding his ego even more as the hand around your neck tightened, making you lightheaded with arousal, his cock ramming into your tight cunt that begged for release just like you. Chan loved seeing you like this. All fucked out with drool hanging from the corners of your lips, your eyes rolling back into your skull as he vigorously made your world shake, going hard enough to make the bed squeak loudly, the headboard bumping into the wall with every thrust. You couldn’t form a single sentence, blabbering incoherent sentences with his name stringed into it, in your mind you made perfect sense but your hesitant lips didn’t do the same. 

“f-fuck!” you cried out, the even pace getting sloppier as the skin slapping sound grew louder, bouncing against the awfully colored walls of the shabby motel room. You squirmed around on the bed, flailing your arms as you desperately tried to grab onto either your lover or the flowery sheets, your efforts fruitless as you felt your orgasm approaching with wide strides as Chan started circling your swollen abused clit with the pad of the hand that wasn't forcefully holding onto your throat, making you swoon. You arched your back as you couldn’t hold on any longer, clenching around his cock with every ounce of perseverance. With weak legs you interlaced them, trapping him deeper inside you as the merciless fiddling with your bud made you let out a breathy broken moan, your tits bouncing with the movements. The male looked at the tears that rolled down your cheeks, adoring your bloodshot eyes. How he loved staring down at his prized possession. He had ruined a once innocent girl, made her his with the mere power of love and crime. 

He lulled his head back as he was dangerously close to his climax, drawing in a harsh breath from between his clenched teeth, the air cooling down in his mouth before warming up in his tobacco-stained lungs. He was sent over the edge with a final thrust that made your body jolt in excitement, his thumb now simply resting on your clit as all thoughts were wiped clean from his mind, his hot seed spilling into your cunt, unknowingly making you cum as your abdomen contracted, your teary eyes squinting together, not in pain but in pleasure. His cum painted the quivering walls of your sex, draping his body over yours as he panted, staying inside you to ensure every drop of cum was where it supposed to be. His lips were coated with a fine layer of saliva, two lips meeting in a loveable kiss. It might seem odd to others. That you love a man that only brings you down or uses you, at least that’s what it looked like from a different perspective but you were infatuated, maybe even obsessed. He made you famous and he took you under his wing when you fled from your scumbag of a husband. 

Now Chan was the only thing that mattered.

He pulled out, falling down beside you, the weight of the bed shifting as his built back hit it. The cum dripped out of you slowly, hitting the sheets and staining them. You ruffled your hair before you stood up, cum running down your inner thigh as you made your way over to the shower. Chan instead crept down under the covers, staring up at the ceiling in a half lying position, casting glance at the dark oak bedside tables where a packet of cigarettes was left haphazardly along with your metal zippo, a gift from your dad that died in war. It was important to you, important enough to destroy you with smoke. Chan retrieved one of the deadly sticks from it’s pretty eye catching packaging and lit one end, inhaling the smoke. He put one hand beneath his head that was supported by the pillow as he other one momentarily removed the cigarette, flicking the ashes on the cold tile floor, the grey thick smoke spreading through the room, interlacing the bed sheets with it’s scent. The gentle tapping of the water on the bathroom floor calmed him, calmed him from knowing that tomorrow might be the last day he’s alive. Or maybe it’s you. 

Here you were again, getting into the sparkling clean car that was loaded with nothing more than a multitude of weaponry that many times wasn’t used against civilians, just to give a gentle reminder that you don’t fuck with the two of you unless you wanna get a bullet burned through your skull. If they ask for it they are gonna get it.

Chan loaded the suitcases into the truck where a blanket covered the weapons, the pile of murder machines looking innocent like this. The sand of the desert was blowing in your face, your long skirt flowing in the wind. Just because you were a criminal didn’t mean you had to dress out of fashion, the style was a part of it. You gazed out into the valleys of dust, the lonesome tumbleweeds drifting with the wind like a blind rat following the smell of musky cheese, not aware that it’s heading to it’s own death.

“Ready, sugarplum?” Chan said, wrapping his hand around your head and leaning it against his sturdy shoulder. 

“I was born ready” you whispered into the wuthering wind. He smiled but put on a serious face as you looked at him, before walking over to the passenger seat, opening the car door.

“Let’s do what we do best, darling.” you said with a bittersweet grin, sitting down and closing the door. 

The bank wasn’t too far away, that being that it was still in the same state since many other robberies required long car rides that was either filled with funky tunes or more cigarettes than you can count. This one wasn’t any different. His two hands were gripping the steering wheel as he drove faster than the speed limit, praying to whatever nonexistent god he had in his head that the police wouldn’t flash their red and blue sirens behind the vehicle. He probably prayed to the money. He often said that money did things not even god was able to do and there was truth in Chan’s words or maybe the both of you were too infatuated with the idea of money that you would go to any lengths just to get it. Just to smell the fresh dollar bills in your hands. The car was in complete silence, only the growling of the engine being heard. It was always scary heading to a new place, you never knew what would happen there. Maybe it’s the last time you witness your lover behind the steering wheel, the last time you feel the wind fluttering through you hair due to the rolled down window. Maybe it was the last time you would see the emerald green jewel reflecting it’s light as the sun bounced off the glossy surface of the stone. You denied your longing for your husband, beside all the cheating and drugs you were ready to stay with him but there was one thing that Chan could do better; love. 

You could tell how tense Chan was. The way he anxiously checked the rearview mirror and forcefully looked straight at the neverending road in the middle of nowhere. It was pretty apparent that this lifestyle was driving him mad, making all his nerves stand on the edge of his skin, paranoid to the bone. But there was no end in sight unless someone else put that end there. He was never gonna stop, go as far as he could and shoot for the stars. It was people like him, greedy people that life usually steered the wrong way and well,,, you were one of those as well, greedy for luxury even though the life you were living now was anything far from that. You turned to Chan, his one hand rested in his lap and you slowly reached over to grab it, rubbing your thumb over knuckles. His eyes momentarily diverted from the road to you, looking at your eyes that were focused on his slightly rough hands.

After what seemed like an eternity, Chan parked into the parking lot of the bank, the building being just as remotely placed as the motel. Perfect. The car was strategically placed near the road for easy escape if there would even be any required. As you stepped out of the car you opened the trunk, uncovering the multitude of weapons that lay beneath the blanket and passed Chan his favorite rifle, the M1918 Browning Rifle. You simply stuck to a revolver since you could hide it in your holster for when you needed two hands to grab the money and shove it into the burlap bag. 

There wasn’t much thought needed for the robberies that happened this far away from the city, the local police station was a good drive away so neither you or Chan worried too much but it was still a risk. The big wooden doors were slammed open by him, a shot up into the ceiling shattered a lamp and next second your ears were filled by the terrified screams of men, women and children. You didn’t hesitate your movements as you went up to the multiple receptionist desks where the women in neat uniforms were all kneeling on the floor. 

“Get the fuck up!” you yelled, jumping on the desk and pointing your gun at one of the girls, she looked rather young and innocent with her dark shaking pupils that wandered with pure fear. You yelled at her to open all the vaults, to which she complied not having any other choice than to get shot. Her hands quivered as she put the money in the bag, filling it up with valuable green bills that would promise you dreams. You glanced back at Chan that was pointing the rifle at the people that lied down on their stomachs with their hands on their head, the sound of a child's tears not even bothering him or his conscience. You held the gun to her head, lonesome tears streaming down her face as her legs were barely able to hold her up. A smile cracked on your crimson painted lips as the bag filled up, the feeling of adrenaline rushing through your blood making you fly on the clouds, you could do whatever you wanted in this moment. You were free. 

Just as you were about to turn around, signaling to Chan that the mission was done you heard another gunshot that was foreign from the usual sounds of the weapons you carried. It didn’t sound like it came from inside the building. The second after you heard a window shatter, glass flying over the civilians that screamed in fear once again and then you heard a thump, a loud one. You looked over your shoulder and there he was, your lover with a bullet through his back, the puddle of sangria red blood spreading over the bright vinyl flooring. This was the sight you feared the most in the world and here it was, right in front of your naked eyes. You dropped the revolver you held in your dominant hand and rushed over to him as you heard a male voice over a megaphone from outside the building. 

“Civilians, exit the building immediately”

The crowd of people squeezed through the doors, fleeing to whatever corner they could or hiding behind the countless cop cars that flashed their colorful sirens. You dragged Chan’s head into your lap as you fell down in defeat, looking at his closed eyes and his face that turned a pale blue with hints of grey, he was cold to the touch and his blood stained your clothes as well as the floor, the dark red marks on the floor that lead to his body as you dragged him closer to you, cupping his cheek. Frigid tears rolled down your cheeks and accumulated on your chin before dripping down onto his face, coloring his lips with a clear sheen. 

He wasn’t gone, he simply couldn’t be. He was your Chan, the Chan that always got away no matter what. Nothing could stop the two of you, not a stupid bullet through his back. You shaked him as you sobbed loudly, your lips quivering as black streaks of mascara covered the supple valleys of your cheeks. 

“Chan! Chan, fuck!! Wake up!!” you yelled as you shook him vigorously but his lifeless body was limp in your arms, no sign of life to be seen. You hugged him closer, not feeling his heartbeat or lungs filling with air from this cursed place. He wasn’t gone, he was still here and he would wake up one day, you told yourself these lies because they are easier to believe than the cold hard truth. Your blood boiled with pure rage. Somebody had stopped your dream life, that someone being the law itself but no matter who it was it still stopped you and you never took no for an answer. Your empty lost gaze diverted to the loaded gun that lied only footsteps away from your cowered body.

“Exit the building, leave the weapons” you heard the voice call out from outside, the megaphone crackling and distorting the voice. 

What was better?

Dying in the hands of the authorities or dying in Chan’s arms?

[witchofstarz]

I wish women would stop falling for and perpetrating the whole “ older men are better” myth.

edit: some errors

I feel like age gap relationships between older men and younger women are so normalized that even women themselves will bend over backwards to either defend these relationships or not bat a single eye at these pairings. They are everywhere you look, and I think it’s so strange because growing up I’ve always heard women ( or girls) say things like “ EWW I would never date a guy 1-2 years younger than me because I see them as younger brothers/babies lmao” or “ I like dating older guys because they’re so mature and men my age are immature” , but they never seem to critically think about applying these things to the older men that want to date them. They never put themselves in the shoes of older men ( and emphasis on older men, not just an older person but a man) and think about why these men might go for them ( the younger women). 

It’s not a coincidence that older men/ younger women pairing is common and it’s rooted in misogyny that places an importance in: a women’s youth ( which is associated with beauty), an older man having more experience and therefore taking the ‘lead’ and can ‘guide’ the younger women ( he can mold her as the person he wants her to be), men seeing young women as a status symbol/ trophy to feed his ego ( having an youthful wife/girlfriend vs an older wife girlfriend which is seen as an “ old hag” by society), older men thinking he can vicariously live through her youth even when he’s old, having a younger wife/gf that can be his caretaker as he ages. etc you get the point. 

Under the patriarchy there is such a huge emphasis on women only being valuable during their youth yet so many women will overlook the fact that men will look for and pursue women that fit these qualities. And this is important to note because women also forget that men don’t have the same intentions as them or just assume that older men pursuing them are decent and their standards for finding a wife/gf aren’t influenced by patriarchal ideals.  Women aren’t socialized to value ~youthfulness~ in men. 

And this brings me to the whole choice feminism consensus that as long as you are a women making a ‘choice’ ,then all it takes is for a women to give the green light to said choice is okay, no questions asked. No critiquing what influences might have been led her to a choice ( in this case it’s choosing to get into an age gap relationship with an older man without thinking about his intentions [ but hey that doesn’t matter *shrugs*] , and if you question this very common phenomenon your a misogynist who doesn’t respect women’s agency or whatever. ) IMO choice feminism is dangerous in this aspect because it sets precedent to having younger women date older men without the reflection needed that could prevent them from getting into unfavorable relationships. 

It’s important for women to always questions men’s intentions and analyze how living under that patriarchy might have influenced their own views on what an ideal male partner should be. ex ) men lying about how they ‘get better with age’ and ‘are more mature’ as they get older and thus might influence younger women into pursuing older men thinking it will guarantee them an ideal partner, which couldn’t be further from the truth. The only people these lies benefit are older men whom are trying to secure younger women by somehow showing that they are inherently being of more value than their younger male counterparts. The same does NOT apply to older women, in fact they are seen as bitter old hags past their prime that are just jealous of younger women. 

It’s important to see who benefits from  these “ older men are better “ tropes because unfortunately some women have fallen for them, hence women’s ridicule and aversion to younger men and thinking they won’t get the same bullshit from older dudes. The whole “ older men are more mature” thing is bs especially when you constantly hear about women behaving like managers and caretakers towards men who refuse to do their fair share of emotional labor + housework. Age is irrelevant, women still end up playing the role as older men’s household managers despite being younger. And it doesn’t stop there they are also supposed to bring a ~youthful touch~ to a relationship and help coax emotionally constipated older men into sharing their feelings ( emotional labor + playing therapist). If anything I think younger women are convinced that going after older men will somehow make them escape a lot of the labor and pain associated with being a women in a ssa relationship but they fail to realize that these are just issues that relate to dating men in general and the age of the man doesn’t change that......because men miracuously don’t grow out of their misogynistic ways as they age. 

(sidenote 1: Younger women themselves that think that they are best matched with older men is also weird since it perpetuates the whole ‘ younger women age faster / mature faster than men’. Like, let young women/girls be youthful and immature? Let them act their age?? It’s sad to see women internalize this whom mindset that somehow they need to match some older dudes mental age and believe that they are inherently more mature than guys their own age. Younger women don’t need to pair up with some dude at a different stage in life and he’s not that impressive, he’s literally just in another stage in his life and when they get to his age they’ll find out that he’s not that impressive.

(sidenote 2: Also wanted to say that wanting an older man for security is odd since it just screams traditional gender roles and tbvh idk why the hell are so called ‘ empowered’ women still looking for ~security~ from men. I don’t find why they find older ~secure~ men more impressive for being more into their careers when it's a given at an older age ). 

[lavellander]

hello im feeling extra “touch the stove”-y today so. i was looking for any dialogue where solas just straight up lies and (of what i could find online/transcribed, obv) i didnt find anything that was 100% untrue. he’ll completely avoid the question, change the subject, give part of the truth, etc etc etc, but nothing was just Entirely A Lie

what really gets me is that there’s a handful of convos where someone infers something from what solas says, and he will even point out that he didn’t directly say that. like, he tells people how to see through his shit, lmao

here is an embarrassingly long ass list of examples, all sorted by what kind of not-lying he’s doing lol, just bc i am unhinged<3

*note that some of these are cut from longer bits of dialogue or have been split up from one conversation into different categories*

literally just Not Answering The Question lol

Dorian: How much “will” do they have? They’re amorphous constructs of the Fade. Solas: Hmm.

Dorian: Solas, have I offended you? Solas: If you have, why would it concern you?

Dorian: Solas, what is this whole look of yours about? Solas: I’m sorry? Dorian: No, that outfit is sorry. What are you supposed to be, some kind of woodsman? Dorian: Is it a Dalish thing? Don’t you dislike the Dalish? Or is it some kind of statement? Solas: No.

Dorian: Let me get this straight, Solas. Dorian: You’re an apostate – neither Dalish nor city elf – who lived alone in the woods studying spirits. Solas: Is that a problem for you?

Solas: [has a whole tactical moment about the red jennies lmao] Sera: Where d’you get all this, then? Solas: Do you wish to be unnerved by another tale of my explorations of the Fade? Or do you wish to learn something?

Vivienne: You must be pleased with what was revealed at the Temple of Mythal, Solas. Solas: Why should those ruins please me, Enchanter?

changing the subject before he backs himself into a corner

Gatt: I don’t see any tattoos, but you’re carrying a staff. Are you from a Chantry Circle? Solas: No. And I would prefer not to discuss it.

Solas: I find the fall of the dwarven lands confusing. Varric: What’s so confusing about endless darkspawn? Solas: A great deal, although that is a different matter.

giving the truth, but not the whole truth

Blackwall: Skyhold. How did you find it? Solas: I looked. Blackwall: Now you sound like Cole. You looked? Solas: This world is full of wonders for those who seek them.

Blackwall: You spoke of seeing death and destruction. Did you fight in a war? Solas: There are struggles across Thedas at any given time. I doubt you would have heard of it. Blackwall: An elven skirmish? Solas: In a manner of speaking, yes.

Cassandra: Solas, have you always lived alone? Out in the wilderness, as an apostate? Solas: For the most part.

Cassandra: Have you ever encountered templars before? Solas: Only at a distance. I am an apostate, after all. Cassandra: And they never caught you even once? Solas: I am a very careful apostate.

Dorian: We found elves, living ancient elves, at the Temple of Mythal. Does that bother you, Solas? If Inquisitor allied with the Sentinels: Solas: I am pleased we were not forced to kill them, if that’s what you mean.

Iron Bull: You’ve got an odd style, Solas. Your spells are a bit different from the Circle mages or the Vints. Solas: That comes from being self-taught. Solas: I discovered most of my magic on my own, or learned it from my journeys in the Fade.

Vivienne: So, an apostate? Solas: That is correct, Enchanter. I did not train in your Circle.

Solas: You are a man who made a choice... possibly the first of your life. Iron Bull: I’ve always liked fighting. What if I turn savage, like the other Tal-Vashoth? Solas: You have the Inquisition, you have the Inquisitor... and you have me.

from cutscene at beginning Inquisitor: [mentions the anchor closing a rift] Solas: Whatever magic opened the Breach in the sky also placed that mark upon your hand. I theorized the mark might be able to close the rifts that have opened in the Breach's wake – and it seems I was correct.

from cutscene at beginning Solas: [to a Dalish Inq] You are Dalish, but clearly away from the rest of your clan. Did they send you here? Inquisitor: What do you know of the Dalish? Solas: I have wandered many roads in my time, and crossed paths with your people on more than one occasion. Inquisitor: [Crossed paths? dialogue choice] Solas: I mean that I offered to share knowledge, only to be attacked for no greater reason than their superstition.

from “I’d like to know more about you” convo in Haven Inquisitor: What made you start studying the Fade? Solas: I grew up in a village to the north. There was little to interest a young man, especially one gifted with magic. But as I slept, spirits of the Fade showed me glimpses of wonders I had never imagined. I treasured my dreams. Being awake, out of the Fade, became troublesome.

actually telling the truth but no one picks up on the gravity of it

Solas: [...] I believe the elven gods existed, as did the old gods of Tevinter. But I do not think any of them were gods, unless you expand the definition of the word to the point of absurdity. I appreciate the idea of your Maker, a god that does not need to prove his power. I wish more such gods felt the same. Cassandra: You have seen much sadness in your journeys, Solas. Following the Maker might offer some hope. Solas: I have people, Seeker. The greatest triumphs and tragedies this world has known can all be traced to people.

Cole: No, inside. I don’t hear your hurt as much. Your song is softer, subtler, not silent but still. Solas: How small the pain of one man seems when weighted against the endless depths of memory, of feeling, of existence. That ocean carries everyone. And those of us who learn to see its currents move through life with their fewer ripples.

Cole: You didn’t do it to be right. You did it to save them. Inquisitor: Solas, what is Cole talking about? Solas: A mistake. One of many made by a much younger elf who was certain he knew everything.

Solas: Empires rise and fall. Arlathan was no more “innocent” than your own Tevinter in its time. Solas: Your nostalgia for the ancient elves, however romanticized, is pointless.

Solas: Our people used to be here. Sera: Pfft, you say that everywhere. Solas: It is more true than you want to believe.

Vivienne: You must be pleased, apostate. With the Templars dissolved, your rebels will be most difficult to pacify. Solas: My rebels? Am I an agent for their cause, whispering poison into the Inquisition’s ears? Solas: How comforting. Vivienne: You enjoy seeing yourself as a villain? Solas: No more than any other clever man who wonders what he could do if pushed.

Vivienne: [about the Temple of Mythal] Now you know the elves were once a mighty nation. Solas: I always knew, Enchanter. The Temple of Mythal is just another reminder of what was lost.

(in the Emerald Graves): These forests have changed much since I was last here.

during the Fade!Haven cutscene Solas: It seems you hold the key to our salvation. You had sealed it with a gesture... and right then, I felt the whole world change. Inquisitor: [romance option] “Felt the whole world change?” Solas: A figure of speech. Inquisitor: I’m aware of the metaphor. I’m more interested in felt. Solas: You change... everything.

pointing out that people assume he means things he did not directly say

Cole: There is pain though, still within you. Solas: And I never said there was not.

Solas: You may well become fully human, after all. I never thought to see it. Cole: When did you see it before? Solas: I did not say that I had.

Iron Bull: We’ve got the alliance with my people. Given how much you love the Qun, I figured... Solas: I might scold you? Berate you for your decisions? Iron Bull: Hey. The Chargers died as heroes for the good of the mission. Solas: I never said otherwise.

Sera: Don’t you start. Solas: I’m reasonably certain I said nothing.

Vivienne: [talking shit about grey warden mages] Solas: I never claimed mages should be above the law, Enchanter. Vivienne: No, darling. You merely implied it, while offering no viable suggestions for improvement.

after infamous “side benefits” dialogue Warrior Inquisitor: You find my muscles enjoyable? Solas: I meant that you enjoyed having them, presumably. Warrior Inquisitor: Ah. Solas: But yes... since you asked.

diminishing things he does actually know by saying he he “believes” or “thinks,” or that things were vaguely “said” or “told”

Solas: I say what I believe to be true, even if it gives offense to those who prefer the lie.

Dorian: That orb Corypheus carries... are you certain it’s of elven origin, Solas? Solas: I believe so. Why do you ask?

Solas: It is said that we lived at a pace that sustained us for... ages.

making it sound like he’s talking about something/someone else, but it’s just him lmao

Cole: Do you know a lot about wolves? Solas: I know that they are intelligent, practical creatures that small-minded fools think of as terrible beasts.

Solas: No man can kill so many people without breaking inside. To survive... those you fight must become monsters. Iron Bull: The ones that kill innocent people, yeah. The rest... I don’t know. Solas: The mind does marvelous things to protect itself.

during In Hushed Whispers Inquisitor: I’m glad you understood what he just said because I’m not sure I did. Solas: You would think such understanding would stop me from making such terrible mistakes. You would be wrong.

misc

this one i wanted to include because it’s the only circumstance (that i came across) where someone directly asks solas to lie and he literally says he can’t

during the fucking crestwood breakup scene Inquisitor: [angry option] Tell me you don’t care. Solas: I can’t do that. Inquisitor: Tell me I was some casual dalliance so I can call you a cold-hearted son of a bitch and move on! Solas: I’m sorry.

*also note that most of these are banter transcriptions from the wiki; some are cutscene / other dialogue posted by either @/daitranscripts or u/karinini on reddit; it’s not all his cutscenes obv, but I’m not about to look up every single one individually sdlkfj*

[songofclarity]

Hi cat anon back again I absolutely loved your response to my ask though I doubt WRH sleeps 16 hours a day lol. On the contrary I think he's more likely a workaholic who rarely if ever gets a full night of sleep. even if he delegates a part of his workload, leading a sect as large as qishan wen is still a very hard and demanding job and there are things that just can't be delegated and there's also his cultivation that he must put a lot of work in to be that powerful I would be surprised if he ever gets time to rest. If I were to compare WRH as a leader to anyone it would be Miranda Priestley from "the devil wears Prada", all those working under him are terrified of him not because he's needlessly cruel but because he's extremely strict, demanding, and has very high expectations of everyone starting with himself and the higher you go in the hierarchy of the sect the higher his expectations of you will be and if you can't meet his expectations you will be kicked to the curb without mercy (srsly if you haven't watched that movie you absolutely should especially if you're looking for inspiration for WRH because Meryl Streep slays the role of the demanding and tyrannical leader in it).

Also I'm curious what kind of parent you think WRH is. We never get to meet WX in the novel so there's no way to know what he's really like but WC strikes me as a sort of spoiled kid who was used to getting all his demands met without question and was never disciplined for anything ever in his life but also there are WQ and WN whose upbringing WRH had more or less involvement in depending on the adaptation and who seem to be far better adjusted people than WC even if WN seems to suffer from near crippling social anxiety and stage fright. I personally think he has no idea how to parent because he was mostly raised by nannies and tutors and barely had any relation with his own parents if he had any so his idea of being a father is buying his children anything they ask for no matter how extravagant and having dinner with them once in a while.

Sorry for the rant but you're my favorite writer who writes WRH I just love the way you write him ❤️

Ahaha, 16 hours is indeed much too much, he needs to have time to work on his cultivation! I'm so happy you love the way I write him and I love hearing you talk about him, so thank you for sharing your thoughts with me!

I will confess I, too, have a soft spot for workaholic/insomniac Wen RuoHan. It’s a big sect and there is a lot to do! At the same time, I also have a soft spot for well-rested and idling Wen RuoHan who is purposefully kept oblivious to most things happening in his sect, either because other people are doing a good job taking care of it all, because they just don't want to look bad in front of the boss and so don't tell him, or both lol

To be honest, I don't see Wen RuoHan as someone who is that critical of people! I just don't see him dropping people simply because they make a mistake. The way he lightly jokes with Meng Yao after Meng Yao nearly gets himself killed is kind of something I can see Miranda Priestly doing though lol But she knows she's top brass and has the attitude for it. There is an arrogance about her that when she says something disparaging, it's really not a joke even if she might smile and laugh. By comparison, I don't think Wen RuoHan is nearly that arrogant or, if I may, that rude. I think politeness and proper manners are actually very important to him (and there is a whole essay in me about that lol). Wen RuoHan says "you good-for-nothing" only after Meng Yao was being self-deprecating, and then they laughed and carried on with Wen RuoHan going along with Meng Yao's ideas. Meng Yao's status doesn't falter in the slightest.

(So yes, The Devil Wears Prada is a great movie and I have definitely seen it!)

Instead of Wen RuoHan creating a toxic environment where he plays an active hand in making people fight for privileges and status, I can better see people around Wen RuoHan vying for his attention that it becomes a dog-eat-dog situation. It's like with the guest cultivator who threw Nie Dad under the bus. Wen RuoHan did not pose a question that needed to cause a sect-sect incident, but the guest cultivator made it into one. No one is quite sure why he would say such a thing, although one of the assumptions is that he said it simply to stand out and gain attention.

Although I may just have some rose-colored glasses on lol Wen RuoHan just kind of has that personality, to me, that draws people in. They see Wen RuoHan, recognize his power, and are like, "If I can have 5 minutes of his time, my whole life will change for the better." I do think Wen RuoHan thought he was making things better with his policies. The problem is that some bad people are taking advantage of this offer, and it in turn reflects badly on Wen RuoHan. I will say this though: I think there is some room to argue that Wen RuoHan does follow the teachings of Wen Mao.

For the record, I like to completely ignore what CQL did to the Wens, tbh LOL Wen RuoHan is Yikes, Wen Chao is more just evil asshole rather than pompous asshole, and Wen Qing and Wen Ning are like desolate orphans for some reason. I love the younger actors, acting, and the aesthetics (although white and red will always be Wen colors to me!) but the changes to their story line and their relationships with each other made a complete mess and I don't like to see it ;;

But man, I wish we knew, like, anything about Wen Xu! Wen Chao is absolutely spoiled though. Although one thing I like is how he's being given opportunities to practice leadership, management, and organization skills. He's the one arranging the Wen Sect team for the archery competition and he's put in charge of indoctrinating all the juniors when he himself is the same age as them. We see evidence that he's getting the right education and opportunities to maybe even become Sect Leader one day (Wen Xu, who are you!?), but we also know he's a rather rotten, arrogant person who seems to enjoy his power and privilege more than anything. Wen Chao is also the second son and we get a nice comparison with Nie HuaiSang, who also enjoys all the wealth and the pretty things of his station but doesn't want the responsibilities that come with it.

My headcanon is that Wen RuoHan adores children and is very good with them. I want to believe he was very good to Wen Xu, Wen Chao, Wen Qing, and Wen Ning. This is in part because every other parent in MDZS is awful so statistics says at least one of them needs to be good, so let's give it to Wen RuoHan LMAO

But for the actual teaching of said children, I can definitely see them being given tutors and Shifu and all that good stuff. Then when they have learned something, they show it off to Wen RuoHan, who I think is someone who likes seeing others learn and improve. I don't think utilizing nannies and tutors would make him a bad parent though! It might make him somewhat distant, however, which might explain why Wen Chao lies about killing the Tortoise of Slaughter. That would be a great way to get his father's attention! But it might not be because his father is distant. That lack of attention could also be because he's competing, as I mentioned before, with all the other people vying for Wen RuoHan's attention.

Considering Wen RuoHan gave Wen Chao his strongest bodyguard, a whole ton of disciples to lead, and opportunities to prove himself, I think Wen RuoHan is arguably a decent father. That Wen Chao was desperate to get back to him when it all went south shows that his father is someone he knows will protect him, which no other kid in the series (except Lan SiZhui who has the benefit of being from the next generation lol) ever displays. Considering how Wen RuoHan protected Meng Yao in the Sun Palace with Extreme Force, I like to think Wen RuoHan really doesn't mess around with the safety of his kids (with Meng Yao as honorary kid). Even Wen Qing and Wen Ning had ZERO fear running around as they did right after the massacre of Lotus Pier. No one and nothing is going to harm them--not with Wen RuoHan around.

(As a side note, Wen Qing said she wouldn’t be able to protect Wen Ning from Wen Chao if Wen Chao really wanted to kill him, but there is no mention of harm coming from Wen RuoHan. It really does sound like a sibling spat of “He’s going to fucking kill you when he finds out you ate his pudding and there is NOTHING I can do to stop him.”)

With all that said!! I really like your headcanon that Wen RuoHan wasn't close with his own parents and thus having no idea how to parent. It makes me sad, but in a good way lol So I'm definitely willing to run with you on it! Although I love the idea that Wen RuoHan is trying to be different than the generation before him. His parents weren't close to him, so he is close to his own children. He cultivated to a high level because no one was around to protect him, so he makes sure he's around to protect them. Wen ZhuLiu is an extension of Wen RuoHan and it shows when he protects Wen Chao, despite not liking the kid in the slightest.

So Wen Chao grows up spoiled and Wen Ning grows up fearless and Wen Qing grows up prideful because Wen RuoHan is just one letter away and no one wants to mess with Wen RuoHan.

[chirp-featherfowl]

summertime is not a good friend.

 -       Tommy is 12 when he's assigned as a right hand man to a war general.      Far too young, the world thinks. Far too immature, the world says.        It is a war for peace, but not one a child should not carry the burden of. It is a war for hope, for prosperity, for freedom, but not one a child should be the right hand man of.       The child that is the subject of discussion does not understand, nor does he disagree with his placement. It is not for a long, long, time that he realizes.  -       In a few months time, the ages of the rest have been revealed.       A friend that is 13. An enemy that is 19. An outsider that is 19. A son that is 15. A girl that is 18.       The words pass through the minds of the watchers, only fueling them to have the world they carefully spectate fall in shambles. Some say it's sadistic, that it's cruel, but no one listens. Not even they can stop themselves from seeing what comes next. -  [Discussion Board Opened!] all hail sir billiam 23 min. ago lmao these losers saying its "problematic". get off of ur skyblock island sweetie, they're fictional <3 -- 18 replies  Skye [on hiatus!] 23 min. ago  Um they're not fictional? These are reall people   - Hati 20 min. ago       Lmao yes they are. They might as well be seeing as they shouldve known            what they were signing up for  -- 4 replies  ami | MOD | 18 min. ago  hello! please get off this discussion board and delete this post. we do not   condone discourse here, try and find another site! thank you.   - all hail sir billiam 18 min. ago       um no thanks. the mods here r shit anyways, go get the owner if u wanna            talk to me -- 8 replies -       Tommy is 13 when he learns that his suffering is being watched and condoned by millions of other people. He is angry, and rightfully so.       It just so happens that his anger has fallen on deaf ears, though, as his brother, his dear brother, is trapped in delusions of his own creation.       It is too late for his brother, and it is too late for himself. - puddle ;; shay @soggy_mem0ry Stop stanning problematic world groups and go back to playing on fucking mineplex or something. This site disgusts me 456 Retweets 34 Quote Tweets 6,282 Likes

el \ DON'T PRIV QRT @el_i god the discourse on here is horrible. i'm not going to be on this site for a while. i don't like what it's becoming. 293 Retweets 2 Quote Tweets 1,497 Likes -       It has been over six months since Tommy has been without trust. He cares for his brother, he does his best for him, and he knows he loves him back, despite the situation they're in. Tommy has done his best to bring his brother back to the way he was once before, and even though they both know it won't last long, they both put on a facade for each other. -       A young boy, the age of 16, watches as another boy, only three years younger than him, loses almost all his hope. This young boy does not matter to the state of this world, and he never will, but it is the impact that makes it so important.       The boy sits near a tree on his island, giving up hope himself. -        A girl slaughters her way to victory in small matches in her area, knowing much due to her ability to find sufficient role models.       Sufficient role models that happen to be revenge-filled adults that seem to not know they're torturing children, but it doesn't matter to her. It doesn't matter to anyone, in fact. No one cares when the world hinges on the fate of 14 year-olds who shouldn't know how to handle a crossbow, but so do nonetheless. -  frog-enthusiast - Follow man. i never thought i'd be making this post, seeing as i'm one of the more popular members of the dsmpblr community, but i'm done. i won't deactivate this blog so other people can still see it, but i probably won't be posting ever again. fuck everyone who condones this shit. -       Tommy is 14 when he begins to finally lose his hope.       He hasn't yet, despite what everyone else thinks. He is still holding onto it, not for long, but he hasn't let go.       But the world seems keen on having him release his grip, and he does, eventually.       That day is not today, though, and Tommy Simons still lives. He lives in a, sadly, different and changed mindset, but is still the same Tommy Simons.       He cannot say the same for his brother. - THEORIES ABOUT THE DSMP Kadoodles 696K views - 3 days ago MCC 9 Interview - Tapl's thoughts on DSMP, HBomb94 talking about L'cast, and more! MCC Highlights 3.2M views - 5 months ago Tommy confronts Wilbur about Manberg Obli Intel 52K views - 1 day ago - TAPL: Well, I'm not surprised you've asked me this. More that I was the first one to be asked, I guess? TAPL: If I'm being honest, I don't really want to talk about it. What does on in that world is none of my business. Though, that's not the answer you want, is it, huh? TAPL: I don't like it. It gives off such a bad energy, if that's the way you want to put it. I just... don't think it should exist, really? It shouldn't be shown off. -       Tommy is 15 when he finally, finally, crumbles. Where he, the final judge, the youngest, is corrupted, is taken down to be who he finally is.       Prey. -       Various teenagers from all across the world watch as friend gets separated from friend, and foe takes over foe. It's no surprise to the people who chose this demise, but it still is a burden to carry. To be known as one of the people that sentenced a child to an early grave is something not a lot of people personally like.       They keep on watching, though. Nothing will stop them. (But it is not as if people try.)       The world might crumble there, and they will watch. The world might disappear there, and they will watch. - Replies jumpy-the-alien - frog-enthusiast I'm sad to see you go, but I totally get where you're coming from! I really hope you come back, I love your art, but don't feel pressured. vlaired-spear fuck off with the "fuck everyone" thing. you watched this shit too. you can't put down other people while still doing the same thing. flameo-hotman @vlaired-spear holy shit this is why i hate this website. suck a dick flowgastrell @vlaired-spear I know right! Its not like the ccs will see this anyway flameo-hotman @flowgastrell yeah, maybe not in a discord server, but there's still a high chance when you post it on the fucking internet - TAPL: I know I'm probably going to lose a lot of people saying this, but you asked for my opinion, and here it is. I don't want to lie about it. Especially not when fucking children are at risk. -       Tommy remains 15 for a very long time. It is not of his own volition. He is bored, and time passes slowly.       Not until his friend arrives, that is. His friend with the mask, his friend with the lies. His friend that's not his friend.       But Tommy doesn't know that. - [Discussion Board Opened!] all hail sir billiam 45 min. ago it will be a long day in hell when i give up dsmp content lmaoooo got banned from that other board the other day mods were toxic as shit might report it idk  -- 4 replies  Gertrude Supremacy 44 min. ago  :O Oh no what happened  - all hail sir billiam 44 min. ago    just the antis being toxic again lol  -- 2 replies -       Tommy remains 15 when he his abused by the one he thinks is a friend. He remains 15 during the explosions, the traps, the hitting, the fighting, the party, the-       The things a 15-year-old should not have to deal with.       He stops saying sorry for being too weak-willed. He starts saying sorry for being too disobedient. He does both, and gets punished "suitably" for both.       It is a game, and he does not know the rules. to be continued!! may make a follow up post explaining the au

[gold-eyes-vengeful-heart]

Questions, Answers

((or: Runya is displeased with the situation at large.

Spoilers for the 5.5 Diamond Weapon quests! Contains Runya being kind of an asshole about the VIIth Legion’s Weapons’ pilots.

Also this entire fic line is not going to stop the Spite Train (TM) I have against this fucking ridiculous nonsense writing in the canonical questline, this is your only warning lmao))

===

Runya just idly drummed the fingers of one of his clawed gloves on the stony bench, looking more closely at the datapad he held in his other hand as his thoughts wandered. It was difficult to keep them on-task, as of late; he knew that he should be focusing on finding that bloody last Weapon--the Diamond Weapon, the few files his nodes had managed to scrounge called it--but all the same...

There was Baelsar.

His ears flicked back just at the thought, and his tail lashed. Yes, that was a problem. While he had been recovering, he had heard about what the Garlean was up to--namely, insinuating himself into Werlyt’s burgeoning resistance, all under the guise of being helpful and lending his expertise and just being the man best suited for the job--

And anyone who actually believed that had all the gullibility of a literal child, in Runya’s estimation.

He finally stilled his tail and flicked his ears once, twice, and just squinted down at what scant information he had. No amount of him complaining had fixed that one; even Sorin agreed with him, as far as he could tell, and agreed that it was at the very least incredibly tone deaf of the Legatus. And yet, there Baelsar was, still doing exactly what he had been, despite all of that. Bloody typical. If Runya wanted anything done, he had to do it himself.

“S-Sir?”

The small voice broke him out of his reverie, and he glanced over the top of the datapad before letting it fall entirely. The young Au Ra--barely old enough to be considered a teenager, with ill-fitting armor to match--stiffened under the sharp golden-eyed stare, but he held his ground and only the tip of his own tail twitching betrayed his nerves.

“Ah, S-Sir Damask...” A pause. “That is you, yes?”

“Mmmm, the very one.” He smiled, and that did exactly nothing to make the Xaela’s nerves any better. “I’m honored; I thought only a few people here even knew of me. Blue has far more fame than I do.”

The easy, conversational tone made the boy’s shoulders relax just slightly. “Ah, well, yes, your machine is very well-known, after fighting those awful Weapons--and beating them. We thought no one would be able to...” But he shook his head, suddenly. “Anyway, ah, they wanted to see you. Mister Baelsar and Mister Garlond did.”

“Mister Baelsar.” Runya laughed, lightly, and that tension came right back. “Is that what he calls himself now? I would have half-expected him to demand to be called lord, or something equally stuffy.”

The Xaela blinked. “He’s not...like that right now, at least. Not ever since he took over.”

“And yet he’s still making children do his dirty work,” Runya remarked, waving his free hand as the boy opened his mouth indignantly. “Arguments about your exact number of years aside, I’d quite enjoy to remind everyone what happened the last time Baelsar had access to a bunch of people around your age. And younger, for that matter. One of the more...exquisitely awful things he ever did, I think.”

Now the Xaela was silent, and more visibly torn. Almost like he wanted to say something, but hesitated.

And Runya smiled. “Come now, you can say what’s on your mind. I don’t bite. Only if I’m given good reason to.”

Not that that seemed to reassure him any, but he did finally speak, if reluctantly. “I know. My sister...” He swallowed. “Never mind.”

Ah, so someone else that knew. Really knew, not just claimed they knew when they hadn’t experienced the half of it. So Runya just smiled, and patted the Xaela on the shoulder, despite the way the boy visibly quailed a bit at the strange look in his eyes now.

“And you don’t like it, either, do you?” His voice was low and smooth as oily smoke. “That they’re all just letting him lead again, when we all saw what horrors he committed the last time. Times, even.”

Now the boy wasn’t looking at him. That was enough of an answer for Runya, and so he just let go of him, leaning back.

“Or is it more...those with power before him are just in it for themselves?” the Miqo’te ventured, tilting his head thoughtfully. “The terrible things the Empire did must have barely hurt those with that kind of influence. They don’t care about how you and people like you might feel, if they were to use the architect of your own oppression for their own ends--even when it means letting him lead. All that matters is that being away from the Empire is more profitable than being under it, so they’ll use any tool they have for it.”

“I just...” The Xaela sighed, shaking his head. “It isn’t like I can fix it. That’s what the resistance’s leaders want, so they’re going to do it.”

“And the Alliance assistance certainly doesn’t care,” Runya added with a nod. (He got one back.) “Well, Sorin dearest does, but even someone like him only has so much sway against a crowd. As do I.” He stood up rather creakily, though when he was offered a hand, he took it without too much complaint. “Mmm, much obliged. One wouldn’t think me to be such an old man...”

And yet the Empire had done this to him anyway. But the Xaela had the sense to not really ask; he just nodded back, and let go of Runya’s hand rather quickly. “Are you--?”

“Coming?” Runya interrupted. “Ah, no. I have little of note to say to them, as you might have guessed. I’m going to do what I set out to do, and that does not involve them getting in my way--the only thing I’m interested in hearing from them is if they found that last Weapon, and where.” And he was quite sure that few were going to try and argue in the face of his own Weapon, even if he was just as keenly aware that they would like to.

The Xaela finally dismissed himself, armor clanking as he made his way away, and Runya was once more left by himself. Or about as alone as one could ever get, with Blue in his head...

{Runya-friend.} The faint voice pattered across his thoughts like a light rain. {Runya-friend is mad.}

“Not at you, dear.”

{But still mad.}

He just sighed in resignation, and let the matter slide. “The point more is, Blue, that the sooner we find this last Weapon--and stop being involved in Baelsar’s messes, lest I finally stab him to death ahead of when I intended to off him, just to keep him from making more of the damned things--the better.”

{...Yes.} Even Blue was uncomfortable enough with the notion--it roiled in the back of his mind. {Does Runya-friend want to fly? Go look?}

“Hmmm, in a little while.” He would wait, for right now, just to make sure he was entirely out of any other ideas beforehand. (No use in wearing Blue out, if they could find that other Weapon another way.) And he wanted to make quite sure that Baelsar wasn’t going to simply backstab them all as soon as they got the chance; he wouldn’t put it past the man to try, if he was being granted such power by fools.

And fools they were, no matter what the reasoning behind it. Anyone that would listen to those bleated lies about just not knowing that the Empire was so cruel, from one of the main architects of that cruelty, was enough fool that it was a miracle they remembered how to breathe. And anyone who saw that manipulation for what it was, only to still believe they could use the man’s expertise and cunning anyway and not be bitten by him in the end, was no different.

(Part of his insistence on working alone was, after all, just that set of realizations at play...in addition to him being much more willing to tear his own limbs off than ever work with a Garlean like that ever again.)

He would make damned sure that he wouldn’t fall to that idiocy. He would continue taking out Imperials, one by one, starting with these Weapons...and inevitably including the Legatuses. Even Baelsar. Especially Baelsar, no matter what amount of recrimination Sorin kept throwing at him just for the thought--these idiot children of his were just more of an immediate danger, was all.

And they’d die just like the rest. He’d personally see to it.

[flutistbyday-1]

Bury a Friend Chapter One:

Reposting my “Supernatural” AU! This story features the reader— YN— and her friend, Amanda, as they deal with the life of being a hunter. YN is in love with Dean, but we all know how Dean is. I played around with cannon when it comes to plot and ages, please don’t hate me! Lmao.

Set in season 3/4/5 so far, so consider this your spoiler warning!

Pairing— Dean x Reader (eventually)

Characters— OFC Amanda, reader, Dean, Sam, Ellen, Jo, Bobby, etc.

Word count— 2219

I will only accept 50 tags for this!

*****************************

Dean Winchester.

What. A. Man.

No, a God.

Y/N had known Dean and Sam for years. 10, almost 11 years, to be exact.

Y/N met them when she was just 15; just a teenage girl, who hadn’t even finished going through puberty yet.

When Y/N met Dean and Sam, the girl was gangly, angled, and uncoordinated. The amount of times Y/N tripped over her own feet or ran into a screen door, was too many to count. Y/N was not a graceful teenager. She had tried activities like gymnastics to help, but she broke her arm and never went back.

She was a graceful adult, though.

Between puberty, her father’s training regime, and some miracle, Y/N had stopped tripping over her own feet and started to become a true hunter.

Her father trained her mentally and physically. Y/N could handle any weapon that dropped in her hands, She could single-handedly shove stakes through hearts, and she always made sure to have the upper hand. She was smart, too. She knew her limits and never bit off more than she could chew.

She used her small stature to her advantage: she could hide most anywhere and she could wiggle out most monster’s grips.

She was adept, daft, and cunning. She also knew to keep a low profile— nobody had been able to pin her down.

She was deadly.

Y/N had met Sam and Dean through a family friend who knew John Winchester. They were all hunters; a life that Y/N had desperately tried to escape. Her Dad would drop Y/N off with Sam when he and John would go on a hunt. Dean was resentful that he had another “kid” to look after, but Sam was grateful to have another person to talk to. Sam and Y/N were close up until the day he graduated from high school. Sam left after a huge fight with his father and never looked back.

Y/N had mourned the loss of her friendship with Sam, but Dean never gave Y/N a second glance. Which wasn’t surprising— Dean was almost 10 years her senior, nine years and 364 days… Not that Y/N has counted or anything. She was just a kid to him.

Dean and John left seven years ago and Y/N hasn't heard from a Winchester since.

When Y/N started hunting, She began to track Sam and Dean. She followed their trail through newspapers. Once they had reunited with Ellen, Y/N got a phone call every time they showed.

She had long tried to forget about her feelings for Dean, but she kept an eye on the brothers to make sure their paths didn’t cross.

Until the universe decided to pull the Winchester’s back into her life.

Y/N was at the Roadhouse, nursing a whiskey, neat, when she heard a voice She thought she would never hear again.

“Y/N?” The voice boomed from across the bar.

Y/N turned to the source of the noise. A goofy smile coming across her face when she realized who was speaking to her

“Well, I’ll be!” She said to the giant man before her.

Sam had aged, but well. Under all that bulk of muscle, the kid that she knew was still there. She could see it in the kindness of his eyes. Even though the life of a hunter was cruel, he was still good.

Y/N stood to hug Sam, but he swept her up in his arms and spun around. Y/N laughed loudly but clung to him. She inhaled his cologne and all those good memories she had of spending time with the Winchester’s came back in waves of nostalgia.

“It’s good to see you, Y/N,” he said as he put her back on her feet.

“You too, Sam!” Y/N said, joyfully as she sat down. “Care to join me?”

Sammy nodded before turning to Dean.

“Dean, you remember Y/N?”

Dean glared at her. “Yeah, Cameron’s kid,” he grunted. “Dumped her with me. Gave me another mouth to feed.”

Y/N tsked her tongue at Sam before turning toward him. “Is he always such an ass?”

This earned a laugh from Sam. “Yeah,” he guffawed. “Yeah, he is.”

“Whatever,” Dean huffed. “Can I get a beer, Jo?”

They waited until Dean had skulked off to the corner of the bar before resuming conversation.

When Y/N was 15, their age gap made the world of a difference. But now that she was 25? 10 years didn’t seem all that bad. And Dean looked good for 35. Really good. Even though he was still an ass.

“So, what brings you here?” She asked Sam, turning toward him with a bright smile.

Sam shrugged. “It’s been awhile since we’ve had a case. Dean was getting restless, so I suggested we come here. It’s the closest thing we have to a home.”

“You don’t go to Bobby’s anymore?” It was an innocent question, but she could tell it set Sam on edge.

Sam’s eyes darkened for a second.

“Consider the question withdrawn,” Y/N half joked.

She knew Bobby had a heart attack and she also knew that neither Sam nor Dean had bothered to pick up a phone and call Bobby in almost a year— that’s why she was in town. She had hoped that the boys had long moved on from their relationship with Bobby.

Y/N had called Ellen for her weekly check in when Ellen had told her Bobby had a heart attack. Y/N rushed to Sioux Falls immediately.

Jo had gushed every detail about Sam and Dean to Y/N when Y/N and Amanda came to the Roadhouse three nights ago.

“How do you know about Bobby?” He asked, leaning closer to her.

It was Y/N’s turn to shrug. “You and Dean are famous in this world,” she said nonchalantly as she downed the whiskey in one swig. “Word gets around. My dad knew him, too,” I offered. “Said he was a drunk.”

The truth was, Y/N knew Bobby through her father as well. Her father and Bobby had been close for about twenty years before a hunt went very, very wrong.

Her father had almost gotten Bobby killed, and instead of owning up to it, Cameron pinned the blame on Bobby.

That fight created a rift between Cameron and Bobby that nobody could fix.

Y/N had reached out to Bobby only twice in the past seven years— once to see if he’d help her. He said he had no interest in helping Cameron’s blood, and once more just to tell him that Cameron had passed away. Even though they weren’t in contact, she still cared for Bobby. She always drove by his house when she was in town, just to make sure he was alive.

Y/N knew that if Sam and Dean found out that Bobby had been hurt, and almost killed, by her father, they would most likely turn on her. Bobby was the only family they had left, and Bobby hated Y/N.

That made Sam laugh. “That’s what they all say. But those who know him—”

“Know he’s mostly sober?”

Y/N and Sam laughed. She didn’t realize how much she had missed the younger Winchester brother. His presence was a breath of fresh air.

Jo poured another round.

“So what are you doing here?” He asked.

Y/N looked at him, debating if she should tell him the truth. “Ellen’s like a second mom to me,” she said after a moment. “She likes to think she’s checking up on me, but really, I’m checking up on her.” It wasn’t completely untrue. Ellen did like it when Y/N popped in, but only ‘cause she was a hunter and she was worried sick about Y/N.

Y/N could see the wheels turning in Sam’s mind and hoped he wouldn’t press it. Eventually, he nodded, accepting her words.

They fell into an awkward silence. They both knew that you couldn’t trust other hunters as far as you could throw. They both knew that Y/N had just lied to him for a reason.

“Y/N,” Sammy started.

She looked at him. Her heart broke when she saw the sadness in his eyes.

“I’m sorry for how I left things.”

Y/N waved her hand dismissively. “That was years ago, Sam. C’est la vie.”

Y/N moved to get out of her seat, but Sam’s hand was on hers in a second. She couldn’t help but look up at him.

“I mean it, Y/N. I was so desperate to get out that I didn’t care who got caught in the crossfire. I messed up.”

Y/N could see the sincerity on his face. “Okay,” She whispered. She cleared her throat. “But I really should get going. The rowdy crowd is about to show up.” Y/N gave Sam a shit-eating grin and slapped money down on the bar.

When Y/N turned, she couldn’t help but notice Dean. Well, who Dean was chatting up, anyhow.

He was leaning against the bar, talking up her best friend, Amanda. Y/N Looked back at Sam and winked. “Watch this.”

She walked over to Dean. He either didn’t sense her presence or didn’t care. Y/N looked at Amanda, and Amanda noticed her best friend instantly.

Y/N slightly raised her eyebrows, asking Amanda a silent question. Do you want me to stop this? When one friend was being hit on by men they didn’t like, the other would come over and would ask, “Honey, are you ready to go?” Before sharing a kiss with the other to get the man to go away. Most of the time, it worked. Sometimes, the guy was a creep and wanted to “join them”. Those guys usually got a punch to the nose.

Amanda gave a slight nod, inscrutable to anyone who didn’t know the pair .

Y/N stepped in between Dean and Amanda, making herself known.

“Dean,” Y/N crooned in a voice saved for men she thought were one step above Neanderthals, “I see you’ve met Amanda.” Y/N smiled brightly, but her eyes showed a silent threat.

“Yes, I have, Sweetheart,” Dean said, with confidence dripping from him. He winked at Y/N before turning to Amanda.

It took everything Y/N and Amanda had not to laugh.

“I hate to break it to you, Dean, but you’re barking up the wrong tree,” Y/N said in a tone that indicated that he should leave.

Dean stood up straighter. He looked down at Y/N, literally and figuratively. “Is that so, sweetheart?” His voice challenged Y/N this time.

Y/N gave a small laugh. “Yes, it is Dean. You should leave before you get humiliated.”

“Ha,” he said, his signature cocky smile on his face again.

Y/N shrugged her shoulders. “I warned you.” She wrapped her arms around Amanda’s neck and kissed her friend deeply.

Dean’s jaw dropped and Sam started laughing in the background.

Y/N pulled away from Amanda and looked at Dean. He shrunk back from the pair and sank onto a stool. He was leaning on the bar again, shell shocked from what just happened. Y/N knew he was a little turned on, too. It was in his eyes.

Y/N raised her eyebrows suggestively while leaning into Dean.

He was disarmed by the powermove and lust, so it was easy for Y/N to reach into his pocket and snag his wallet.

“I told you, Dean. Wrong tree,” She whispered seductively. Once the wallet was securely on her person, Y/N discreetly pulled out her knife.

Her lips were millimeters away from Dean’s and she could tell he wanted to kiss her.

Y/N licked her lips as one final distraction before slamming the knife into the bar top, pinning his jacket sleeve securely to the wood.

He reacted like Y/N knew he would— He tried to bounce out of his seat, but was stuck to the bar top.

By the time he had successfully removed the knife, Y/N was already halfway out the door, Amanda in tow.

“Keep the knife, sweetheart,” Y/N called as she dragged Amanda out of the door and into the night.

Sam walked up to dean. “Dude—“

“Don’t say anything,” Dean threatened as he pulled his jacket back on. He patted down his sides. “Son of a bitch!” Dean exclaimed as he patted down his front and back pockets. “She just took my wallet!”

This made Sam, Jo, and Ellen laugh.

“Shut up,” Dean hissed.

Ellen leaned across the bar. “She may have been just “Cameron’s kid”, Dean, but she’s not a baby anymore. Her daddy died five years ago, and she was hunting on her own till she found Amanda two years ago.”

Dean looked at Ellen, then at Sam. He had definitely underestimated Y/N.

Ellen could see the lust in Dean's Eyes so she clicked her tongue dismissively in response. “Don’t go messing with her, Dean Winchester. She’s had enough heartache for a lifetime.”

Dean stared at the door, hoping to see Y/N again, and not just because she had his wallet.

********

@kingliam2019

@princessleac1

@kimmiedoo5

[therequiemforthelost-archive]

💫 + flavio!! :3c I feel like I don't know anything abt him so u can go off if u want!!!

OKAY I FINALLY HAVE TIME TO GET TO THIS curse finals coming up lmao

I am ALWAYS down to talk about Flavio like I will GLADLY tell you everything about him.

Content Warnings: Angst, Mentions of gaslighting, Spoilers for EO2U

General Information

Flavio is from the JRPG Etrian Odyssey 2 Untold: The Fafnir Knight. He is the childhood friend and best friend of the Protagonist. Raised by the Midgard Library Association’s orphanage, he eventually becomes an investigation team member of the Midgard Library and is sent to High Lagaard with the Protagonist to complete a mission (to escort the princess of Caledonia, Arianna, to ritual grounds located in High Lagaard). As someone of the Survivalist class, he uses bows as his primary weapon of choice. He’s extremely speedy and will almost always make the first move in a fight. He’s primarily a backline fighter, but he’s flexible enough to fight on the frontlines as well. If you do choose to reclass him, he fits very well in the following classes: Gunner and Hexer.

Lore Information

Flavio was orphaned at a young age; young enough to never remember who his parents were. He was taken in by the Midgard Library Association and raised by their orphanage. There, he meets the Protagonist of the game since they became roommates. As a child, he was a bit of a trouble maker, which would lead him to getting scolded often. This would only get worse after an incident where the Protagonist transforms for the first time in order to save both him and Arianna from monsters. The day that this happened is a huge sore spot (and a possible source of trauma) for Flavio as the three children were simply playing Explorers out in the woods that day. Neither Arianna or the Protagonist remember this happening, with only Flavio remembering. When he tried to tell the adults of the Midgard Library and the orphanage what happened, he would be immediately shut down and called a liar. However, Flavio would continue to insist on what he saw was real, earning him the nickname “Fibber Flavio”. This nickname would be used whenever he mentioned the incident to shame him into eventually never speaking of it again. This was done intentionally by the Midgard Library, as they did not want word of the Protagonist’s power to spread. When he eventually grows older and becomes an explorer as a part of an investigation team alongside the Protagonist, he’s the only one to immediately recognize Arianna when they meet up with her in High Lagaard. Even though the Protagonist is Flavio’s best friend, he struggles with feels of jealousy and inferiority towards him, as the Protagonist was the stronger, more decisive, and kinder of the two. "Back at the orphanage, we were always together, and roommates as far as back as I can remember. You were my best friend. But even then... I was so jealous of you. You were stronger than me, more decisive, always kind even though I lied all the time... You always had the adults' praise. I was proud to be your friend, but ashamed too. We grew up at the same orphanage, so how did we turn out so different?" (Flavio to the Protagonist). Because they are friends, Flavio tells the Protagonist this because the right thing to do it to “come clean” about how he felt.

Personality

“Flavio is always cheerful, upbeat and the life of the guild. He is very kind to others and to his peers and is always willing to give a helping hand to others, even strangers. However, he is straightforward and keeps the members of the guild in check. He tends to be quite the apprehensive character at times and is the one everyone in the party seems to tease often. He often nitpicks about things that aren't normal and when he was younger, he became frustrated and stupified by things he didn't understand or weren't normal. Because of his preference for the ordinary, he's often labeled as the "straight man" of the group; in the Japanese version he is labeled as the "tsukkomi" which means the same thing. Ironically, he hates being called or treated as such.“ (Copied from his wiki page). To add on to this, when he is teased, he tends to get very flustered. Even though he is considered the “straighforward” one, he can often get dragged into his friend’s antics before snapping out of it, such as when the guild discusses their favorite games in the middle of a fight with monsters. Also, may I note that even though he’s labeled as the “straight man”, trust me he is anything but straight. yes I know that’s in reference to his character archetype lemme have my joke He’s also extremely expressive!

  Fun Facts and Headcanons!

He is afraid of insects and deathly afraid of spiders

He’s good at cooking

He went through a few redesigns because some members on the game’s staff said he wasn't “handsome enough”

He has a ridiculous spice tolerance and loves spicy food

He’s allergic to pollen and “sneezes like a kitten” (according to Chloe)

I personally headcanon him as pan!

Another headcanon of mine is that his frustration as a child about things he didn’t understand is what caused him to be a bit of a troublemaker and that for a big part of his childhood, he was extremely bitter due to how the Midgard Library treated him

Basically he’s a former delinquent with a heart of gold and has always been a cinnamon roll, a hill I will die on

He’s a worrywart and the Mom Friend of the group

My ship name with him ”My Aim is Set” is based on one of his in-game quotes

I love him

[cheesybaconflatbread]

Rating the girls out of 10 because I’m bored

Lottie - she acted pretty immaturely with the Rocco situation. I get her being upset but then she also kissed Gary behind Rocco’s back, so? She looks out for her girls quite a lot. I struggled with her on the Noah route because she, like everyone else, dismissed MC’s feelings quite a lot. Equally though, when she find out about MC kissing Noah on that route she doesn’t just turn her back on MC. She says fanny flutters. Her gem scenes with the tea leaves and such is worth it, in my opinion. If you tell her you want to share a bed with Kassam in Casa Amor (I did this on my Noah route so had no luck with him but just wanted to try it out), she actually didn’t mind. If you’re with Rocco when he’s cracking on with Marisol, she 100% has MC’s back too which is nice. 9/10, because depending on routes she can have her flaws.

Hope - so, on non-Noah routes (disclaimer: I mostly do these because I don’t want Lurik to choose me at disaster recoupling), I’m usually close friends with her. Even after my last route where MC kissed Noah, she was actually still nice to MC after Casa Amor. I don’t really like her possessiveness of Noah; I get her being mad about the Priya/MC kiss. But I’m talking about from day one where you can’t even flirt with him without her frowny faces. If you’re on a Noah route, she completely dismisses MC feelings about him in Casa? Which I kind of understand her not being on board with the coupling, but that doesn’t mean MC can’t have feelings. Tbh I think her and Noah aren’t compatible at all but that’s for another post. She’s quite bossy a lot of the time, but with good intention - like on girls day out, I think she was just trying to keep the peace and have a day without drama. Um, don’t agree that she’s Posh Spice. She stole that title. 4/10 - I can’t deal with her day one possessiveness of Noah.

Marisol - Marisol fans are going to hate me for this. I don’t like her character that much. It annoys me when she constantly analyses everyone - I get it because it’s where her passion lies but it’s just so much sometimes. Especially in Casa Amor, like I really don’t care about those boys and I don’t care who’s genuine and who isn’t - I’m leaving them where the fuck they are lmao. It was kinda snakey for her to go behind Lottie’s back with Rocco but she did say when she first came in she wasn’t going to let anyone stand in her way of having a chance of love. I just don’t believe that she’s the shortest girl?? Obviously they did that for her and Graham to have that kiss but she doesn’t look like she would be short. Her fingers creep me out. HOWEVER, if you kiss Noah, she won’t pass any judgement and seems to be impressed that MC made a pass at Noah. Once she comes back from Casa Amor with Graham, she sort of disappears? Like where was she when they were building a den. 7/10

Original Hannah - I liked her, her character was sweet which was refreshing. All she needs to do is pull her head out of Lottie’s ass. I think if she stayed, her and MC would have actually become closer than her and Lottie. 8/10

Returning Hannah - so like, whilst I’m here for glow ups I do feel like the message to Hannah (and maybe younger girls) was “change yourself to be liked”. Saying that, as the days go on, her old self starts to show a lot more. Like when she says “erotically charged” instead of horny. I would have preferred Priya to return. 5/10

Priya - QUEEN. She has to steal your man but that’s okay, you can easily get him back. Let’s say it’s Bobby, for example, if you speak to him on the night your single for grafting, when she comes over she quotes Mean Girls and isn’t annoyed at you for flirting - she understands that it’s the first few days and it’s how Love Island works (take notes, Hope, who gets jealous when Noah comes to keep MC company). I feel bad for the backlash she gets in ON, especially if it’s MC who ended up kissing Noah and not her. She’s pretty goofy and playful and I love that about her, because with the way they made her and her age you would expect something else. Negatives?? Um... Yeah, I can’t think of any? Maybe ON but that’s not just her. Then she wants MC to win, so easily 10/10.

Chelsea - I HAVE SO MUCH LOVE FOR HER. Best friend, bra sister, would couple up with her if I could. She becomes MC’s best friend the minute she comes into the Villa and I feel like she’s always there for her, no matter what. With characters like Lottie and Hope, sure they have you’re back - as long as you’re not flirting with their man, or in some cases if you dare speak to them alone. Chelsea is always interested in whoever MC is coupled up with after Casa Amor, but if MC really wants to be with that person she doesn’t stand in the way. She does recouple with someone different quite a lot but she came in late, when everyone was pretty much settled into their couples, so I think she just found it hard to find someone. I don’t like that I had the option to suck her toe in Casa Amor but not share a bed with her. Fuck those Casa Amor guys, I want to share a bed with Chelsea - heck, I’d even share a bed with her in a Villa when they’re not happy in their couples (her with Gary, MC with whoever she saved for example). She made up a secret handshake with MC and I love that??? I don’t blame her for the drama around the Jo kiss - sure, she shouldn’t have blurted it out to the girls but Elisa should have never told her in the first place and when it all came out, Jo should have admitted to it. So I don’t judge her on that. She assigns Spice Girls to her friends and will perform a Spice Girls song with MC if you choose that option. She’s one of the funniest characters in there and I want her to be real so she can be my best friend. Easily 10/10.

Shannon - so I hated Shannon at first. Anything Casa Amor related, I hated it. But after getting more into LITG and seeing stuff on here, I ended up loving her. I don’t like her “game plan” type of approach to getting Ibrahim that much but it worked for a while. My biggest problem with her character is her not confronting Ibrahim about the kiss because that argument just dragged on so much. Equally, he could have owned up to it so it’s not entirely on her. She wasn’t a bitch to the Villa girls when they came back from Casa Amor (looking at you, Blake). There have been occasions where she’s called MC a people pleaser (r u d e) but so has Jo, so I won’t judge her on that. 8/10, would have been higher but I can’t be fucked with the Ibrahim and Jo kiss drama.

Blake - don’t have anything nice to say about her. On the Noah route, she practically begged him to bring her into the villa by saying it would be the safest option and I think she did the same with Lurik. She saw the boys were a mess after seeing the video and took advantage of that. She fakes being nice - if you’re nice to her, she’s still a bitch in the finale. Don’t waste your gems being nice. When you first meet her she instantly insults MC? Yeah -4/10 and I can only use this gif to conclude how I feel about her

Elisa - honestly there’s not much for me to say about her. For some reason she’s MC friends and will miss MC the most? Didn’t even feel that close to her. The kiss drama was annoying as hell and she should have told Shannon. Then she came at my girl Chelsea? CANCELLED. I want to burn her clothes, more specifically her sleepwear. Yeah I don’t think there’s much to say because I feel like I don’t care about her that much anyway? 3/10

Jo - first things first, PUT THAT TONGUE AWAY OR GO AND TONGUE JAKUB. The drama she caused was so fucking unnecessary, just admit to the kiss. She’s usually the one that calls MC a people pleaser so I want to deck her for that. I don’t understand why Ibrahim asked her to be his girlfriend after like 3 days? How does that make sense? She’s fucking rude when it comes to the shopping trip “who died and make you two king and queen—“ no one yet, hun, but it can be arranged. Don’t feel sorry for her when she melts her dolls voice box. Oh and if you let her go shopping, she basically only brings back nachos and nothing else which is dumb. Sometimes I want to feel sorry for her because she gets off to a bad start but honestly she’s pretty rude. 1/10.

[heyyyharry]

My Girl Series: Chapter 13 - Ghosts

…in which Y/N returns to Holmes Chapel, and Harry is a little too late.

Series description: Y/N falls in love with the older boy next door who doesn’t feel the same, years later they meet again at a funeral.

AU: actor!harry, older!harry, younger!y/n; (4-year age gap)

Chapter 12: I Love You - Y/N wants to face her past, but Harry wants to leave his behind.

Warning: EXTREME angst. 

Idk why I decided to break my own heart and everyone else’s but let’s bear with me for a better future for our babies lmao. Btw, if you guys want a cute happy song to cheer you up, Taylor Swift’s new song ME! fits their relationship very well.

OC version

.

1:45 AM.

Most of the bad decisions in Harry's life by far had been made at this time of the day, when his brain was numb and his defenses were down. It started with teenage Harry throwing pebbles at his crush's window and getting chased by her father, to 24-year-old Harry picking up the call from the person he'd been avoiding for months.

Though his number one advice to himself had always been: 'if you're awake at two in the morning, just go to sleep', it was still something he'd never learned.

Sitting in the swivel chair by the floor-to-ceiling window, Harry looked out at the city, one hand gripping the phone at his ear, the other subconsciously tapping on his knee. The woman on the phone was waiting for his reply, but what she wanted to hear wasn't what he could give.

"H, say something."

A little part of him wanted to end the call and go back to bed where his present and possible future was expecting him, yet there he was, clinging onto the ghost of his past by prolonging that unnecessary conversation that was heading nowhere.

"Can I—" Ruby spoke again when all she could hear was his ragged breathing. "Can I just come over? I need to see you."

"I don't want to see you," he finally said. Judging by the sudden pause, he knew she was taken aback by that stone cold answer.

"I broke things off with him. It's true this time." Her voice trembled just like how she'd told him she would never leave him the night before she left. This might be another one of her easy lies. But why did he keep on listening instead of hanging up?

"We're gonna make an official announcement soon. But I wanted you to hear it from me," she went on to fill in his silence. "Baby, I-I know you won't believe me when I tell you this, but I love you. I still do. As much as I did before. I'm sorry I waited until now to finally end things with James. I guess I was just scared, but I'm not scared anymore. Now I know what I want. And I want us."

That was exactly what Harry had wanted to hear a couple months ago. But everything was different now.

"Rubes," he whispered, eyes squeezed shut as his brows furrowed harder. The sound of her laugh used to take him to heaven, now it only dragged him to hell.

"I missed your voice," Ruby said, funny how a smile could be heard through the phone. "I miss you. Terribly."

He shook his head slowly, afterward smiling to himself as he remembered she couldn't see him.

"Please say something, H. Anything. Let me see you."

His face contorted as she begged him in the most tragic tone he'd ever heard. It was like cleaning your closet and trying to debate if you should throw away the t-shirt you used to love that didn't fit anymore. He wanted her to shut up, but at the same time, didn't have the heart to end the conversation.

"I loved you a lot," he said at last, trying to steady his breathing when he heard her do the same. "I guess...you're always gonna mean something to me."

Ruby released a slight laugh as he took a pause. "But?"

He sighed in response to her voice crack, praying that she wouldn't burst into tears, for he wouldn't know how to cope with it. "I can't do this again, Rubes. Go back to your fiancé. We're over."

"I can't go back to the man I don't love."

"You did once before. Sure you can do it again." He chuckled wryly. "I-I'm very sorry."

She wasn't the woman he loved anymore. She was Ruby Ellis — his co-star, an actress, a stranger. That was who she was to him from now on. And he knew better than to go back to her. However, his heart ached to the thought of never hearing from her again after this call. Now he was so confused. What was it that he wanted?

Ruby didn't say anything, yet he could hear her quiet sobs which were slowly killing him. He pinched the bridge of his nose, holding his breath while waiting impatiently for her reply, which, sadly, never came.

The loud noise at the living room entrance caused his head to spin just in time Y/N caught the vase before it collided with the floor. Her big eyes stared straight at him, and his heart broke in reaction to her expression. Without reluctance, he ended the call with his ex-lover and rose from the chair, keeping eye-contact with Y/N as she took a few steps forward, eyes already filled with tears.

"Ruby?" Her voice was strained. "Ruby Ellis? The actress?"

Harry nodded, eyes glued to the floor. Y/N held her head with both hands, trying to fight the battle of emotions inside her chest as she put two and two together.

"But she'd been with her fiancé for three years." It was more like her talking to herself than to him. "Did she...cheat on him with you?"

Hurt and disbelief was etched on her face, but she still had to ask, expecting a different answer from the truth. However, Harry picked the worst time to finally be honest. He sucked in a breath, nodding his head and finally looking up to meet her eyes.

"We had an affair, but...it was more than that, at least for me. I was in love with her." Harry swallowed hard as he broke their eye-contact. "I couldn't walk away even though we'd tried to call it quit endless of times. She told me she wasn't happy and that she was gonna leave him soon, and I was stupid enough to believe her...until she left me."

Y/N's face fell fast. In that instant her skin became pale, her mouth hung with lips slightly parted and her eyes stretched wide.

"Why didn't you tell me?" She almost choked on her own words, but he wasn't looking at her to see how broken she was. "I told you everything about Blake. I trusted you!"

"You're overreacting," he mumbled and turned away. Immediately, she marched straight towards him and clutched his elbow to force him to look at her.

"What else are you hiding from me, Harry?"

"Are you serious?" He scoffed. "The past is the past. Why are you digging into mine now?"

"Because you can't seem to let it go!" Y/N shook her head fast. "We won't have a healthy relationship if you keep things like this from me."

"But we're not in a relationship, are we?"

Those words which got out on spur of the moment shocked her to the point that she let go of his arm and stumbled two steps back. Harry wasn't even thinking when he blurted out that sentence. He should've stopped there. If only he'd stopped.

"You're not my girlfriend, I don't have to tell you everything. Even if I'd told you, you would've judged me like you do now, just like everyone else!" Harry raised his voice, apparently too out of his mind to even notice the fear in her glistened eyes. "You had one boyfriend and the break up wasn't even that bad. You don't fucking know how awful it feels to give someone everything you’ve got, and still cannot compete with the person who doesn’t love them."

Y/N stared into those green eyes burning with anger. Her heart fell silent.

"Then how do you think I'm feeling right now?"

That question struck Harry like lighting. It was only then that warmth flooded back to his features. Once he saw tears streaming down her pretty face, his entire body went limp and the rapid beating of his heart echoed within his brain. The red mark on her cheek was there to remind him she'd been hurt before, now it was him who caused her more damage. The second lesson that he had never learned, was never to let anger do the talking.

“Blake left me just a week before my mother died, then you came back, you kissed me and left me too...Now put yourself in my shoes, H. Just because your pain was different from mine, it doesn’t mean you had it worse. I hurt too. I was depressed and starved myself for weeks...Is that what you want to hear?”

Trembling and afraid, Harry shook his head fast as he reached for her hands, but she shrugged him off to cover her face and muffle the heartbreaking sobs that were tearing him apart. Although she was standing right there, he couldn't help but feel like she was slipping through his fingers. He quickly clutched her arms, tears shone in his eyes yet she refused to look at him now.

"I’m so sorry...I shouldn’t...I-I don't love her anymore...You have to trust me," he pleaded, tilting his head to catch a glimpse of her face. He watched her shoulders tremble with despair. Finally, she looked up, both pairs of tear-filled eyes staring at one another.

"You don't love me either."

Y/N could see that Harry was taken aback by those words so she gave him a nod to confirm the truth.

"Yes, I knew what I said, Harry. I love you. I thought you just needed more time," she whispered, her brows drew closer together. "But now I know...I can never compete with her."

Harry's heart sank to the pit of his stomach as he heard those words. Y/N stood still, arms glued to her sides. She should feel affection when he held her face, not this, not the discomfort of his cold palms against her skin. She wanted to push him away, but she didn't have any energy left to even flinch.

He shook his head fast, pressing their foreheads together. "Bambi, look at me...You're not here to replace her. I don't love her anymore."

When he repeated those words, she almost believed him. Almost. But she couldn't. Not after what he'd said on the phone. Not after what he'd said to her when he lost his temper.

"But that's not what you meant." She exhaled sharply. "She still has a place in your heart."

"She...I...I don't...I just—" He tried to explain, though the words that got out made absolutely no sense.

"Did she leave you right before you came back for my mother's funeral?" She cut him off, not wanting to be fed with more of his meaningless words. She just wanted solid proofs that she wasn't his rebound, yet there he was, looking startled and hesitating before nodding his head to confirm her fear was real.

"Was she the one who called you after we kissed in the treehouse? The reason you were so eager to leave?"

"It's—"

"Yes or no, Harry."

"Y-Yes."

Now both of them were crying in front of one another. Y/N soon forgot about the mark on her cheek. Not a single slap could compare to this pain she must endure from hearing his confessions.

"One last question. And please be honest with me," she spoke with a breathy voice. "Do you love me?"

Silence.

Utter silence.

He could've said no, and it would've felt less insulting than him giving her silence and reluctance instead. She loved him so much that she wanted to justify for his reaction by saying he'd been hurt before and was terrified by the idea of love, that she could understand. But weren't they both the same? She'd been hurt too. She had every single reason to believe love didn't exist until she looked into his eyes. She had fought all that fear within her just to say those words to him, and meant it. If he couldn't fight for her, if he must have a second thought to decide how he should feel about her, then what was she still doing here?

Harry sucked in a breath when Y/N grabbed both of his hands and removed them from her face.

"Don't be like my dad." Her voice became as fragile as glass. "I love you...but if you don't love me back, you have to let me go."

When Y/N said those words, she did hope that he would change his mind. She did wait. But he didn't speak. And when her time for him had run out, she quietly went back to the bedroom. As for Harry, he was rooted to the spot, still trying to get grip on reality.

It didn't take too long until Y/N returned, now dressed in her own clothes and holding her handbag. He was still standing there, waiting for her to leave him instead of saying those words she'd shrugged off all of her pride to say to him. His face was paler than her ever recalled it being, as if his blood was all shrinking away.

In the blink of an eye, the door fell shut. And she was gone.

.

.

.

When Y/N stumbled out on the street, her eyes flooded with tears and the first person she called was Celine. She just needed to talk to someone or else her heart might combust any minute now. She bit her nails while waiting for her best friend to pick up the phone. Though it took a bit longer than usual, she knew Celine would never miss any of her calls.

"Hey, baby! Wow, I was just about to call you. Talk about being soulmates!"

"Cece, I—"

"I hope you're sitting down right now because your girl has an announcement to make!"

Y/N literally held her breath for that one-second pause.

"I'm engaged!"

When Celine screamed the big news into the phone, her best friend from across the ocean was so shocked she couldn't make a sound. She stood like a corpse on the side of the road, tears in her eyes but she was too afraid her heartbreak would ruin her best friend's happy day.

"Y/N, are you still there?"

"Yeah...I'm here."

"Are you crying?"

Y/N faked a laugh. The last thing she wanted was to make this about herself.

"I can't help it. I'm just so happy for you two," she said, trying to sound as cheerful as she could pretend.

"Aww, my love! Gosh, I wish you were here with us." Celine giggled. "Oh, why did you call by the way?"

"I just missed you, that's all." Y/N pressed her lips together, taking a deep breath. "Hey, something just came up, I gotta go now. I'll call you another time, yeah? Then we can spend hours talking about this."

"Oh, we certainly will! Love you, baby."

"Love you too, baby."

When that phone call came to an end, Y/N sank even deeper into depression.

How could it be?

In less than twelve hours, everything had been taken away from her. She had prided herself on being independent and laughed in the faces of the ones who needed the company of another to feel fulfilled. Here she was, completely lost with no one to turn to, not even herself. So she kept on walking, letting her tears fall and her feet lead the way. Maybe when the sun rose in a few hours, everything would be alright.

If only it'd been that easy.

The rain came without warning. It started out with little droplets, and the next second it was a torrential downpour, washing over her skin so strongly that it felt as if she was standing under a giant waterfall. Y/N didn't have an umbrella with her, so the only thing she could do was cover her head with the handbag and attempt to call a taxi on the phone. Due to unfortunate carelessness, the device slipped out of her grip and fell right into the puddle on the pavement, causing Y/N to literally scream out a curse word. There wasn't anyone around to think she was insane anyway.

The phone was dripping in rainwater when she picked it up, thus only magic could get it to work again. This time, instead of risking her life to run home, she dashed to find cover under a roof nearby, just in time two headlights appeared through the thick water curtain.

A car pulled over in front of Y/N. The familiar voice grabbed her attention right before she could recognize the person in the driver seat.

"Get in!" Marcy shouted as she tapped on the window.

This woman would be the last person Y/N wanted to be around at a moment like this, but she was given no other choice. It was either being safe in the car with the crazy person who'd slapped her, or risking standing there and getting swept away by the thunderstorm. Any sane person would've chosen the former in a heartbeat.

Immediately, Y/N got into the passenger seat and heaved a heavy sigh as she slammed the door shut, trying to catch her breath with her head back tossed back and eyes shut. Marcy quickly turned back to grab something from the backseat.

"Here." She wrapped the huge blanket around Y/N's body, stroking both of her arms to keep her warm.

"Why do you have a huge ass blanket in your car?"

"I get cold easily." Marcy rolled her eyes, although she did find it amusing how Y/N was more shocked by the blanket, than the fact that she'd showed up just in time to rescue her from the storm.

"Better?" Asked the blonde as she drove away in the rain, taking a quick glance at her future stepdaughter whose eyes were still shut, too lost in her own head to even hear that one-word question.

"How did you find me?" Y/N asked once she'd calmed down.

"It was pure luck I guess," replied Marcy. "I was driving around the city looking for you, and when it began to rain I was about to give up, then I saw you on the side of the road."

Y/N didn't say anything, instead, she turned her head to the left. Water droplets hit the car window as they drove onwards. She watched those raindrops race down, somehow finding a little bit of peace and calmness in the loud and chaotic storm.

Now that the heavy shower had washed away his scent on her body, she didn't want to go back anymore. She didn't even want to return to her flat where everywhere she looked reminded her of him. Now she had no other place to go but one.

"Are you heading back to Holmes Chapel?" She asked Marcy, who was taken aback by the sudden question.

"Uh...yeah, but I can drop you off—"

"No." She shook her head, staring at the road ahead instead of the woman in the driver seat. "Just keep on driving."

.

.

.

Harry completely lost track of time, which seemed to fly faster as he was lost in his own thoughts. Maybe he would've continued sitting there on his sofa and replaying Y/N's words over and over again in his head until he passed out from exhaustion, if the sound of thunder hadn't dragged him back to reality.

His head turned to the glass window when the rain started to pour. All that he could see was a thick curtain of water and the hazy city light hidden underneath it. His heart stopped for a second when he recalled the accident which left Y/N with a sprained ankle. He couldn't show up to help her then, now she was out in the rain because of him.

If something bad happened to her...

Harry quickly rose up as the thought briefly crossed his mind, just in time his phone began to ring. The name Ruby appeared on the screen again, but this time, he didn't even care. It was funny and sad at the same time, how the moment of realization always came a bit too late.

What had he done?

Not until then did it occur to Harry that his Bambi had left him for good. He'd officially lost her.

Now that she was gone, he missed her, he needed her, he worried about her. Now that he knew there was a high chance that he could never get her back, it felt as if he was bleeding internally. The pain couldn't compare to when Ruby left him, no, it was much worse. It tore his chest opened. If something bad happened to her tonight, how could he possibly live with himself?

What had he done?

Harry ran fast to his bedroom to throw on a pair of jeans and the t-shirt she'd left on his bed, which still smelt like her. He returned to the living room and grabbed an umbrella before heading out as fast as possible. He rushed to the street, gasping for air as the raindrops hit his cold skin. Even with an umbrella above his head, Harry couldn't save his clothes from getting soaked just in less than a minute. But it was the least of his concerns now. He turned left, then right, mouth agape, eyebrows knitted together. There was not a single person or car in sight. Where was she? Where was his Bambi?

He dialed her number but he couldn't reach her. She either had him blocked or her phone turned off, whichever it was, he wasn't sure if she was safe, and he couldn't rest knowing she was somewhere out there in this pouring rain, all on her own.

He must go find her now.

What had he done?

.

.

.

It was a long drive back to Holmes Chapel, for no vehicle could go fast in this kind of weather. The more time it took the more uncomfortable it got for the two young women in this car.

Marcy inhaled deeply as she stole another glance at Y/N, who had been so quiet that Marcy felt like it would be a crime if she breathed a bit too loud. She thought it might be for the best if she just kept silent and her eyes on the road. However, it was hard to ignore the mark on Y/N's cheek. Although it looked better now than before, it reminded Marcy of what she'd done. And she'd been tormenting herself over it from the night before.

After a couple seconds of contemplating, she finally spoke up, "About what happened in the store..." She paused to clear her throat. "I-I'm very sorry. I shouldn't have—"

"Don't bother," Y/N cut her off, speaking in a monotone. The girl couldn't sound any less indifferent, not her usual aggressive and sarcastic tone. That was how Marcy knew it had a lot to do with the big reason behind her wanting to go back to Holmes Chapel. Marcy was just too afraid to ask.

"After all," Y/N went on, this time sounding breathless. "My father was the one who took the ring from my mother, not you."

"But..." Marcy sucked in a deep breath. "But he didn't take the ring back."

This time, Y/N finally turned to look at her, eyes broadened at once. Marcy kept her focus on the road, yet her expression hardened as if what she was about to say was going to be very brutal to the young girl sitting next to her.

"On the night of the accident, before your mother left, she gave it back to him."

"W-What?"

"Your father asked me not to tell you this but...I think you deserve to know the truth." Marcy sighed, tightening her grip on the steering wheel. "Your parents had planned on getting divorced two months prior to Tam's death. I-I had nothing to do with it, I don't even know the reason. It wasn't until after she'd left that Brad and I began to grow feelings for each other. But everyone blames me for their fight, for her accident. I guess that was why I got so fed up with your attitude and—" Marcy blinked fast, shaking her head in guilt. "I'm not trying to justify my action, because I know it was wrong. But I didn't mean to hurt you on purpose."

Y/N didn't expect any of that. Besides the divorce, nothing else seemed to make sense. Why did her mother take off the ring that she loved more than herself? What was it that they were arguing about that night?

She had hoped that Marcy was just lying, yet for someone with such a troubled past, she would be able to tell if someone was spilling out lies. Therefore she was sure Marcy had said exactly what she knew. Now Y/N felt like she knew nothing at all, not even her mother, the one she loved most.

"You should take a nap. I'll wake you up when we're almost home," Marcy said with a smile.

Now that the rain was over, the sky glowed like a summer peach and the sun slowly emerged from the skyline as tall buildings rose out of the darkness. Y/N's heart was at peace once again, knowing she would be home soon.

But as she closed her eyes to get some rest, all that she could see was him.

.

.

.

"Bambi! Please, open the door if you're in there!" Harry knocked more urgently this time as he tried to catch his breath and fight back the tears. His voice was hoarse from pleading for her to let him in. It had been a while, and now he began to think she wasn't there.

The first golden light of the new day snuck through the little window near the ceiling into the hallway, blinding Harry for a second as if to let him know that the sun had come once again. How often we saw the dawn and took it for granted, that when darkness took over we suddenly craved for the light and the life it brought to our world? Same as Y/N. Now that she was gone, he finally realized what he'd lost.

Harry sat down on the floor with his back against her front door, head in his hands. Their last conversation soon came back to haunt him, and so was the look on her face when he let her go. He knew he deserved that. He was unworthy of her love. But now that he'd lost his ray of sunshine, how could he live with this cold?

In just a minute, Harry's eyes dripped with tears as he gazed toward the window above, as if the light could soothe him. His face twisted and his fists clenched so tight he could feel the sweat trapped inside them. He looked like the same distressed little boy who'd lost the stuffed bunny and the girl he loved. It would take more than a black eye and losing his captain armband to win her back this time.

But right now, he just wanted to know if she was safe. He wiped his tears and pulled out his phone, quickly making a call to the only person he knew would be able to help.

"Hello?" Isaac answered after five seconds. His sleepy voice was evident that he was barely awake.

"Mate...did Y/N come to you, or at least contact you?"

"No. What's wrong? Did something happen to her?" Just like him, his best friend sounded overly distraught.

"We had a fight and she ran off in the rain and...I'm right outside her place right now but she's not home yet."

"She didn't answer your calls?"

"No." Harry sighed, combing his fingers through his hair. "Maybe if you call her, she'll pick up."

"Alright. I'll text you if I know where she is."

"Thank you. I-I appreciate that."

Isaac hummed as a reply and hung up the phone. Harry sat there with his head tossed back, resting against the door, his eyes on the ceiling. Now he was too stressed to even get on with his day and act like nothing was wrong when everything was. But if he continued to sit there for too long, one of Y/N's neighbors might report him, or even worse, someone could start a false rumor that might damage her reputation. Sighing, he pushed himself off the floor to stand up straight, one palm pressed against the wall to keep his balance.

"Hey, you!"

When Harry heard that voice, his head jerked in its direction where he found an old lady walking up the stairs.

"Hi, ma'am," he mumbled, pressing his lips into a small smile as she approached him. But the woman couldn't look more irritated.

"You're dating the girl in that flat, right?"

Harry parted his lips, not knowing how to answer, but he assumed the old woman must be Mrs. Huang, the angry neighbor who kept complaining about him and Y/N having sex a bit too loud. She didn't even need a response from him, and just went straight into the point, handing him the pink notebook which he hadn't noticed that she'd been holding until now.

"She dropped this yesterday. Maybe you can give it back to her."

"Oh...thank you."

Mrs. Huang eyed at the young man from head to toes, making him think she might begin to lecture him on how to not disturb the neighbors. However, what she said to him was this.

"Ever since you came around, I've seen her sing a different song every day when she leaves the building. As annoying as she might be sometimes, that girl seems to be head over heels for you." Then the woman sighed happily, her wrinkles became more visible now that she was smiling at him. "I miss being young and in love with someone. Hold onto it while you still can, alright?"

When Mrs. Huang patted him on the arm and returned to her home, Harry looked down at the pink notebook in his hand. And in a few seconds, all the memories flooded back and the different images of her beautiful smile flashed right through his mind. At that moment, he realized, the goodbye wasn't supposed to be the hardest part, it was the flashbacks that followed right after.

Every single day he'd spent with Ruby had been filled with fear and anxiety, which he'd mistook for passion. But Y/N was his medicine. When he was with her, the pain stopped. She made him feel safe even though their relationship had never been solid, and with her, he could get away from the chaotic of his world to find real peace.

After getting soaked in the rain, his old t-shirt no longer smelt like his Bambi, which meant he had nothing left of her to keep, not even her scent. Now he missed her with a pain in his guts like a fire burning slow.

Had he been brave enough to just face his fear and accept the fact that it was love. It wasn't anything like the love he'd had for Ruby, but it was love. Otherwise, he wouldn't have trembled every time she called his name, his knees wouldn't have gone weak every time he caught her smiling at him, he wouldn't have spent most of the time during a day thinking, fantasizing, daydreaming about her.

If it wasn't love, what else could it be?

In his heart, he retracted all the terrible things he had said to her. He'd learned his lessons the hard way, but not soon enough for the two of them.

.

.

.

"Your sim card is okay, but I'm gonna have to take your phone to the repair store. Meanwhile, you can use my old Blackberry, it still works pretty damn fine."

Y/N pressed her lips into a small smile as she took the phone from her dad, sitting down on the edge of her bed with a blanket wrapped around her now dry and warm body. Bradford stood there for a moment to make sure his daughter didn't need anything else. He was debating with himself whether or not he should ask about why she'd come back. But once he saw the look on her face as she acted busy with the device, he took it as a cue to leave her alone for now.

Once her bedroom door was shut, Y/N finally lifted her eyes as sadness clouded her features at once. She carefully looked around the room. There was a strange melancholy feeling in her heart to be back in her childhood home after two years. Everything looked almost the same as the day she left for college, but it didn't feel the same because she was the one who'd changed.

Through that window, she used to secretly watch Harry return home from school every day. In this bed, he used to hold her as they both fell asleep on nights when her parents were both out of town, and her irresponsible aunt didn't care if there was a boy in her room. On that desk, she'd written countless pages about him, for him, that he might never get to read. She looked around this room and all she could see were their ghosts lurking in every single corner.

After all those years, the boy next door was still so far out of reach. And she was still the same fourteen-year-old pining over her older neighbor who didn't love her in return. That bitter truth made her eyes well up, but she was too old to live in Wonderland anymore. It was time for her to go back.

The new ringtone blasted from the old phone shocked Y/N to the point that she almost tossed her dad's Blackberry across the room. Fortunately, she didn't. She sighed in relief the second the name Isey appeared on the screen. Wiping away her tears, she pressed answer immediately.

"H-Hi..." Y/N exhaled a nervous laugh, hoping he wasn't able to tell what a wreck she was. But he already knew that when he decided to call.

"Smiley, are you okay? Where are you? Are you safe? Are you with someone?"

"I'm fine. What's going on?" Then the answer just appeared in her head on its own. Her smile faded soon as realization sank in. Her voice was soft and careful as she questioned, "what did Harry tell you?"

"That you two got into a fight and you ran off in the storm."

Y/N scoffed, looking down and shaking her head slightly. "It's no big deal really."

"What happened?"

"Well..." She pursed her lips, trying to come up with a white lie good enough to convince him she was okay. "We just had a small disagreement and, yeah, like we always do. It's not that big of a deal."

"I still think you should call him back," Isaac said. She could imagine the frown upon his face. "He was so worried."

"Hmm," she hummed, pressing her lips to form a straight line, not knowing what else to say.

"Where are you now?"

"I'm...in Holmes Chapel."

"What are you doing there?"

Hiding.

"I'm back for my father's wedding in two days." She chuckled nervously, eyes glancing at the spinning fan above her head. "Don't you worry about me."

There was a long pause from Isaac's side when all she could hear was his soft yet heavy breathing. She wished she could tell him what had happened, but neither her heart nor her head agreed it was a good idea to confide in Harry's best friend. So she just sat in silence and waited for him to speak. Eventually, he did.

"If you're sad, just say so."

Y/N nodded in response to those words, yet she soon realized that he couldn't see her so she quietly reassured him that she was fine. Though Isaac could probably tell she only said that so he would stop worrying about her, he was nice enough to not call her out for being a terrible liar.

"Look, I gotta go now..." She said fast, her brows pinched together as her eyes squeezed shut. "Talk to you another time?"

"Alright." He let out a short breath. "Have a great day, Smiley."

"Wait! One more thing!"

"Yeah?" His light chuckle caused her to smile a bit.

"Please don't tell Harry I'm here...I'm gonna talk to him myself when I'm ready."

"Okay."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

Knowing that Isaac always kept his words, Y/N trusted him entirely as she muttered a goodbye and waited for him to hang up first.

She put her phone down, staring at the window where came the new daylight welcoming her back to the small town of Holmes Chapel. The girl smiled sadly as she curled up in a ball on her childhood bed, her eyes fell shut in an instant. The exhaustion caused her body to hang limp like wet laundry on a winter day, now every one of her muscles was giving into gravity.

Taking a deep breath, she could feel the sorrow in her chest waiting to take over, yet the fear didn't seem to exist like many times before. She knew the feeling of losing someone she loved, physically, emotionally, or both; and knowing it probably made it less scary. But what was worse than fear was the emptiness that followed when that someone was gone. She was learning how to deal with it, but slowly.

[hwanscung]

is that [ JU JI-HOON ] no, that’s just [ HWAN HYUN JOON ]. [ HE/HIM ] is [ THIRTY-FIVE ] years old and is a [ COO OF HWAN CORPORATION ]. rumor has it they’ve been in town for [THREE DAYS ]. on a good day, they’re [ INGENIOUS & URBANE ]. but watch out! they can also be [ DOMINEERING & INSENSITIVE ]. [ POWER IS POWER BY SZA & THE WEEKND ] plays in my head whenever i think of them. can’t wait to see them around springhill!

hellooo, it’s me li with my second bby. joon is the elder brother of lee and i’m apologizing for him now because watch out, he can be an asshole. not that he doesn’t have his reasons. this is also my first Korean bby i’m actually really nervous about it and i’m sorry if i messed anything up!!

[ triggers: high-risk pregnancy tw & death tw ]

GENERAL INFORMATION.

NAME →hwan hyun joon AGE → thirty-five DATE OF BIRTH → april 13th, 1984 PLACE OF BIRTH → seoul, south korea EDUCATION → business law degree from harvard & seoul school of law ZODIAC → aries GENDER → male LANGUAGES → korean, english, mandarin, & japanese   ORIENTATION → demisexual, demiromantic RELIGIOUS VIEWS →buddhist ( & hints of folk religion passed down )

PHYSICAL ATTRIBUTES.

FACE CLAIM → ju ji-hoon HEIGHT → 6'2" WEIGHT → 172 lbs HAIR COLOR → black EYE COLOR → brown BODY TYPE → slender, fit

FAMILIAL INFORMATION.

FATHER →  hwan jung-soo MOTHER → lee mi-kyong YOUNGER BROTHER → lee hyun hwan ( westernized name ) YOUNGER SISTER → hwan ( up to player )

WIFE  → oh seo-yeon ( deceased )

PERSONALITY.

POSITIVE TRAITS → ambitious, ingenious, urbane, & calculated NEGATIVE TRAITS → hidebound, domineering, sarcastic, & insensitive INTERESTS → reading, cooking, boxing, & cars DISLIKES → being lied to by those he trusts, cleaning, & coffee AESTHETICS → pressed designer suits, the sound of rain on the roof, the way the city looks from a plane window that’s just taken off, unanswered texts left on read, & a glass of scotch after a long day. MORAL ALIGNMENT → lawful neutral PERSONALITY TYPE → INTJ-A ( the architect )

BACKSTORY.

joon was born in south korea to a wealthy family who expected nothing less than greatness. the family-owned their own very prosperous natural resource company and they’d been grooming their eldest son to take it over long before he could even understand how any part of the business worked.

just before he turned thirteen, his family made arrangements to expand their company and move to the states. his pregnant mother left for new york not long after where she gave birth to his younger brother lee. the family wasn’t reunited until the following year in their new home in the states. soon after came the final addition to the family, a baby girl.

growing up, joon was expected to provide nothing but the absolute best example for his younger siblings and failure was never an acceptable option. he was without question what others would refer to as the golden child and it caused a rift between joon and his siblings. that as well as the large gap in their ages.

there’s almost nothing joon is better at than being obedient to his parents. especially his father. all his father ever needed to do was call and his son would be there, which only led to his loyalty and obedience being taken advantage of time and time again.

he’d always been quite intelligent and had a thirst for knowledge that couldn’t be quenched with just any ordinary business degree. he wanted to be an asset to his families company in ways others couldn’t or wouldn’t be. he wanted to have an edge over everyone, even his father in the end. after graduation joon attended harvard where he studied business law before continuing his education back in south korea at seoul national university school of law. after law school, he stayed in south korea for many years to handle his family's affairs from there at their headquarters, happier to be in the country he truly considered his home as opposed to the states. it was also the place his wife preferred to live.

while studying in seoul, joon met the love of his life. she was the first one to really get him to open up and even want to change a little. of course, not in any serious way, but around seo-yeon he was open to the possibility and eager to more open-minded like she’d always been. she made everything in his life seem light and easy; she was perfect. too perfect for this world, he came to learn.

two years after their marriage, at twenty-eight, joon was called away to the states on business by his father, but he was more than just hesitant to leave his very pregnant wife. initially, the eldest soon refused--the first and only time he’d ever said no to his father. but it was something that didn’t sit well and less than three hours later he was flying first class to jfk.

seo-yeon went into early labor the day after joon left south korea and wasn’t expected to return until after the weekend, a whole three days away. upon his return to seoul, joon found that his life was in nothing more than shambles. his wife had been taken to the hospital, but it already proved to be too late for their unborn child and then to make matters worse, seo-yeon died on the operating table due to complications from the cesarean section. joon knew the high-risks she was facing due to the pregnancy but made the choice to leave her on her own anyway and it’s something he’s never been able to forgive himself for. if he’d stayed with her, he could have made sure she made it to hospital in time. he could have saved his family still.

joon moved back to the states the following year to rejoin the rest of the hwan family as he found the idea of staying in the house they’d made home without those he loved most to be too unbearable. he threw himself into his work more than he ever had before but the seed of resentment he felt towards his father began to grow slowly over the years without him even truly realizing it. unable to stop himself from thinking about how his father had left him with no other option except to abandon his wife. it was something he simply couldn’t forget. or forgive.

outwardly, things certainly seemed to be business as usual for refined young man, but internally a dangerous storm was brewing. though as time past, joon learned to control his anger and emotions once more, the thing he’d been so good at before he’d met seo-yeon. he began to box as a way to channel his frustrations and has since become very invested in it. 

joon will still do whatever his father or mother asks of him, but there are times where he now questions those things and when the requests do come in they’re far and few in between. the man can’t help but wonder if it’s because his father truly feels guilty or sorry or merely because his father can sense just how far joon as drifted from the rightful place at his side. just before his thirtieth birthday, his father promoted him to the chief operating officer of the company and joon took the opportunity to immerse himself in work even further than he already has, which was rather difficult all things considered. it wasn’t long after this that his mother truly began to worry about the well-being and mental state of her eldest son. she even started to try and find him a new wife. something he’s not been overly eager about dealing with.

the years began to pass quickly, most of them blurring together for joon in a rather unhealthy way which left even his father concerned. his parents decided to try and put some space between the company and their heir who was set to inherit it all by asking him to track down his younger brother and to find out what exactly was going on. and joon knew he could do nothing but agree to help. after all, lee was his family even if they’d never exactly treated each other as such. 

IMPORTANT FACTS.

being the very traditional korean that he is, he doesn't like being called joon by those who are not family members or close friends. he often corrects people of this when in the states and will grow to dislike those who disregard his correction. he prefers mr. hwan or by people he knows and if comfortable with they may call him hyun joon. (( call him just joon multiple times and i make no promises of his reactions lmao ))

he’s always preferred to work alone and finds he can get more done this way. a big part of why he enjoyed working from seoul rather than the states.

he has a shiba inu named baek and he loves that dog more than anything else in his life at the moment. he was the last gift from seo-yeon.

he is very perceptive and has always been good at sensing another's kibun and also how to use it to his own benefit when it comes to business meetings and personal gain. but his abuse of his nunchi is something that has gotten him into LOTS trouble with his father for a long as he can remember as his father always like to remind him it’s quite the opposite of harmonious

living in the states definitely made him more insensitive to others feelings and more importantly their kibun because it wasn’t something that mattered in the same way in the states like it did back home. it’s probably the only real american/western thing about him

he’s quite the cocky and an arrogant person, ( but when you’re raised being told you’re place is above others, it’s pretty dang hard not to think like that ). 

he still travels back to korea often for work, but his trips are usually short-lived and he doesn’t do anything really except work when he’s there. 

for the time being, joon is just staying at a local hotel as he doesn’t expect to have to stay around long. ( ohhh how that will change lol )

WANTED CONNECTIONS.

executive assistant

friends

rivals

colleagues

i’m down for anything, i just can’t think of too many atm! 

[mysmedrabbles]

RFA + V as Senior Citizens

requested: by anonymous

a/n: this is?? a super cute ask?? totally seems like the sequel to an old MC lmao

warnings: n/a

-young mod alex

Jumin

-distinguished gentleman through and through

-he’s the type of man that ages gracefully, i hc him to look kind of like eugenes dad (for anyone who watches the try guys)

-he’s faithful to his spouse until the day he dies, and provides the best care for his children, especially supporting them no matter what their passions are

-even though physically the age still has taken a toll on him, the crows feet and laugh lines only prove that he’s led a good life

-he doesn’t believe in “old people activities”

-would rather die than play bingo, he does however enjoy the odd game of mahjong, and even the occasional board game, but only when he’s playing with his kids (however he’s ruthless and doesn’t go easy on them)

-he teaches the kids how to play chess

-his sense of fashion never changes, always sporting a crisp suit and his classic striped dress shirt

-he starts collecting italian shoes as a hobby once he reaches 60, and he’s never been so proud of a collection

-resigns as CEO and passes on the company not to his children, but to the most qualified prospect, changing his ideas on nepotism, now wholeheartedly believing in hard work and working your way up

-you can see the change in him post marrying you, as more and more magazines claim he’s gone “soft” in his old age, but in reality he doesn’t fear the public eye and although sometimes he struggles with emotional blocks, with you by his side he can handle anything

Jaehee

-she’s the anime grandma that chases the troublemakin’ young’uns out of her shop with a broom

-very wholesome old lady, she never gives up her cafe, and although Jumin offers to help her expand her business, she refuses, insisting that she wants it to be family owned

-she teaches your guys’ kids and grandkids how to bake, and at first she seems like she has no patience, trying to discipline them, but you catch her smiling at your first grandchild, a 3 year old boy who's hands are covered with flour as he claps vigorously, childish wonder as flour poofs in a magical cloud

-she always continues to love and support zens work and shows, but her interests start to move on once she reaches her late forties

-she had to stop drinking coffee because her blood pressure got dangerously high, so she moves on to drinking tea

-having a little garden in your backyard where the two of you grow different flowers and herbs to make and experiment with new tea leaves

-she’s sweet, but also retains her businesslike formality and becomes a respected member of the World for Women Entrepreneurs Organization, which she puts down as the first members of the RFA party every year

-cute old lesbian couple, going to every pride parade together and holding hands on the street because, even though she may have aged, her judo skills haven't

Yoosung

-sweet old man, the kind that will be there for every single family reunion, holiday, birthday and will spoil the kids rotten

-he buys a rocking chair to put on the porch, first ironically but he’s quick to change his mind, buying another one in order for the two of you to sit outside together, watching from the porch as your kids play in the yard

-he never loses his passion for cooking, and all the neighborhood kids, even if they aren't your own, line up for Grandpa Kims cooking

-the two of you essentially adopt the whole street of kids

-he stops dying his hair blonde, letting the brown grow back in

-he loves telling the story of how the two of you met, to the point where your kids will groan whenever he starts talking

-never really stops playing video games, and of course teaches all your guys’ kids how to play, however he gets extremely disappointed when your youngest chooses books over games (in a joking way)

-he’s the kind elder that might never really have “wisdom” but he’ll always make you feel better if you have a problem

-by the time the two of you reach 70, your house has become a place for stray animals and kids, not wanting anyone to feel the loneliness that he had when he was younger

Seven

-he never really gets past his trauma, although living with it becomes easier

-saeyoung never loses his childish sense of humor and happiness, making his the strangest elder on the block

-he’s the one all the kids want to have ice cream with

-he retires fairly early compared to the rest, saying that he needed time to focus on his family and on his life for once

-he ages well, but makes the biggest deal out of it when his hairline starts receding

-because of stress, his hair starts greying early, and he refuses to leave the bunker for a week straight, you having to coax his dramatic ass out by hiding all the HBC

-has crippling back pain and has to start using a cane by his mid forties. of course, everyone in the rya makes fun of him for it, but he just waves it threateningly at yoosung, laughing along

-takes daily walks with you to the park, over the lake and bridge, around the cherry blossom tree and back home

-he strives to be there for his children and grandchildren, loving and supporting them in a way his parents never did

-continues to play pranks and crack jokes throughout his life

-every wedding anniversary he decorates the bunker like a space station and you dance to every frank sinatra song ever recorded

-on your 60th wedding anniversary you take him to KARI (Korean Aerospace Research Institute) to look around, inspect the models, check calculations and try the zero gravity machine, and he cries

Zen

-does this man age? not necessarily

-he never stops acting, continuing to rise as televisions most popular actor, but in the end he moves back to theatre, where his passion truly lies

-you quit as his manager at some point to go follow your dreams, and he lets you know that he’s with you every step of the way no matter what

-he doesn’t become more humble as he ages, and can often be seen telling his kids about his amazing adventures from when he was younger

-his laugh lines do get incredibly deep, which he struggles with for a while until you finally step up and tell him that all it means is that he lived well, that he had a good time on this godforsaken planet and that he had a few good laughs

-the energy is broken when you poke your finger in his laugh line, giggling to yourself

-he loosens up on the strict diet, letting himself eat more sweets and fatty foods, but his stance on exercising stays the same

-the storyteller of the family, always calling the grandkids out to the backyard to tell them incredible stories of monsters and knights in shining armor and the beautiful princess

-domesticity out the roof

-doesn’t actually officially retire, but leaves the industry while he’s ahead, getting to enjoy his last few decades surrounded by a family he chose to make

-surprisingly he takes up crochet, likes the meticulous design and patience needed for it, even though he has none, its a good way to teach himself to be more patient

-refuses a cane and or walker his whole life and would “never be caught dead in one”

-at some point he lets his hair grow out all the way, not leaving the rat tail, rather just having long hair

-because of his good genes and extreme self care, he doesn’t lose much of his hair, to which he is grateful to. those wrinkles though....

V

- V, starts losing his sight because of age: ah shit here we go again

-he’s kind, the type of senior that will always help someone out, and picks up trash off of the ground

-volunteers at the local garden, helping with the sunflowers in particular

-never stops painting, insisting that he must paint you and any possible children at every stage of yours and their lives

-the trauma of Rikas abuse left him scarred, but he copes with it, going to therapy until the day he eventually dies

-cute old married couple number two, its impossible to go anywhere without hearing “V and his spouse,” the two of you are a package deal, his life would never have been the same without you, and you would never want to be anywhere else except besides him

-as similar of age as you guys may be to the RFA, the two of you absolutely adopt them, and as all your families expand, V makes it his mission to invite everyone Jumin and his spouse, Jaehee with hers etc etc and their respective children and children spouses,, grandchildren,,,

-he doesn’t talk about his past much, but is always willing to listen to the younguns problems and impart his knowledge

-the older he gets, the more sweaters he owns. is also partial to wearing suspenders over said sweaters

-he begins to fall in love with the environment the older he gets, ultimately starting multiple foundations to save the bees, oceans and various endangered species

-becomes a UN ambassador for a good few years, but resigns due to wanting to get back to his family and passions

-after marrying you he becomes quite content with his life, and he doesnt majorly change in any way

[myevilmouse]

Ahsoka was almost an adult when Luke was born you're fucking disgusting pairing them together lmao

Hello anon and thank you for the “ask” although I guess it’s a complaint more than an ask.  Still I would like to address your comment and I sincerely thank you for shooting it my way.

I think this is an excellent opportunity to discuss real world double-standards in age differences, and explain why I wrote the Ahsoka/Luke pairing in the first place!  Let’s leave aside all the typical arguments about two consenting adults and the fact that age is just a number, etc.  Let’s also leave aside all the species issues (Do Togruta age the same as humans?  Have a similar lifespan?  Is it OK for 700 year old Yoda to bang a 600 year old?  What about species that attain adulthood at younger “standard galactic” ages?).  You know, anon, it’s Star Wars so it’s patently ridiculous to place “real world” anything on interspecies dating, but let’s do it as a fun exercise.

It appears from your comment that you find the idea of an older woman and a younger man together offensive no matter the situation, since you refer to Ahsoka’s age “when Luke was born,” not when I hooked them up in the story. 

So, if, for example, Ahsoka was 60 and Luke was 43 or 44, it seems you would still have an issue.According to canon, Ahsoka is approximately 16 or 17 years older than Luke, so in my fic that would put him around 25 and her around 41 (post-Endor but not too much post-Endor).  Luke Skywalker, at this point, is a Jedi Knight, has saved the galaxy a few times, and certainly appears to be a fully mature adult human male when we see him flipping around and battling evil space wizards in ROTJ.  Mature (and smart) enough to not be taken advantage of by a sexual predator, let’s agree.Leia, similarly, is the same age as Luke, and according to canon is kissing a man 13 years her senior.I’m guessing you don’t have a problem with that?

And therein lies the double standard and hypocrisy of the argument that women have had to deal with for years.  What makes it OK for Han and Leia to have a healthy, adult relationship with a significant age difference, but squicks you about Luke in a similar situation?  Is it those extra few years that make all the difference?  Or just culturally acceptable in your brain for old dudes to bang young chicks but Force forbid an older lady find a guy whose sexual peak lines up with her own?  Or do you fall into the camp that likes to infantilize men like Luke Skywalker who display vulnerability and compassion counter to outdated macho heroic stereotypes, making you uncomfortable with thinking about him as a masculine or sexual being?  Luke and Leia are continuing a nice Skywalker tradition of disregarding age when love comes knocking. Some people freaked out about Anakin hooking up with Padme.  Their age difference was only 5 years, but the idea of a 12 year old with a 17 year old is definitely upsetting, because we are missing that critical element at those ages in the human species–maturity, adulthood.  No one wants that element when we are talking about a CHILD, anon.  I don’t care if the age difference is 30 or 4 years, if someone is not a consenting adult, yeah, be squicked, run the other way.But once we’re in to AOTC territory though, it ain’t but a thang, because Anakin was 19 years old at the time, and Padme was 24, and oh, that’s all ok now, isn’t it?  (FYI the correct answer is YES, it’s all okay now).I hadn’t ever considered Luke/Ahsoka, and when it was discussed on a server, some people had the same attitude as you, anon.  They were like UGH gross.  And I was like, wait a minute, age is the LEAST of the things that would be challenging to this ship.  There’s so much emotional baggage related to Anakin and their relationships to him, I think that would make a much more compelling argument as to why Luke and Ahsoka may wish to reconsider romantic entanglement.

But you went after the age difference, and that makes me sad and proves the point that I was addressing by writing the ship in the first place.  Why let age limit your potential for joy?  For romance?  For finding “the one”?  Luke deserves happiness, and why couldn’t Ahsoka make him happy (and vice versa)?  They have a lot in common, and if they were open enough about the challenges and pitfalls inherent in the psychology attached to their relationship, these two powerful amazing people could likely overcome the “daddy/Darth issues” that would get in the way of happily ever after.There would be a lot of fun angst to write as they figure it out, of course, and I am 100% here for that.

But if you want to get even more enraged by older women getting some Luke action, please allow me to point you to my fic Endure where Mon Mothma and Luke are paired.  And she’s 27 years his senior, and you know what?  I don’t care.  He’s an adult, he knows what he’s doing, and if they want to make sweet therapeutic love, good for them!  Only a close-minded, repressed, and judgmentally selfish person would want to deny love, comfort and intimacy to Luke Skywalker, no matter what age adult is giving it to him.

Oh, and by the way, it’s FanFic!  None of this shit is actually Important. ;)

[amaramonette]

is that [ ISABEL DURANT ]? no, that’s just [ AMARA MONETTE ]. [ SHE/HER ] is [ TWENTY-SIX ] years old and is a [ PROFESSIONAL FIGURE SKATER ]. rumor has it they’ve been in town for [ NEARLY THEIR WHOLE LIFE ]. on a good day, they’re [ PERCEPTIVE & CULTURED ]. but watch out! they can also be [ SPITEFUL & POSSESSIVE ]. [ MORAL OF THE STORY by ASHE ] plays in my head whenever i think of them. can’t wait to see them around spring hill!

hellllooo! i’m li and i’m pretty excited to be here and start using my new bby. she’s a bit of a mash-up of a few different muses that i absolutely love so i’m very stoked to see how this goes lmao. i apologize now for this bio, it took me fivever and it's hella long but like everything i do is long. ( sorry not sorry<3 ). i am also down for alllll the connections, the more drama and angst the better lol. hit me up if you’d like to plot or like this and i’ll come to you!

[ triggers: bad parenting tw, mental abuse tw, ]

GENERAL INFORMATION.

NAME → amara quinn monette NICKNAMES → mara, am, or ams AGE → twenty-six DATE OF BIRTH → october 28th PLACE OF BIRTH → springhill, nj, usa EDUCATION  → high school ged ZODIAC → scorpio GENDER → female ORIENTATION → pansexual, demiromantic RELIGIOUS VIEWS → atheist 

PHYSICAL ATTRIBUTES.

FACE CLAIM → isabel durant HEIGHT → 5'4" WEIGHT → 128 lbs HAIR COLOR → blonde EYE COLOR → blue BODY TYPE → thin, athletic

FAMILIAL INFORMATION.

FATHER →  utp monette ( WC ) MOTHER → evelyn monette  YOUNGER SISTER → utp monette ( WC )

EX-HUSBAND  → utp ( WC )

PERSONALITY.

POSITIVE TRAITS → venturesome, determined, cultured, & perceptive 
NEGATIVE TRAITS → possessive, spiteful, dramatic, & oversensitive
 INTERESTS → dancing, cooking, photography, flower pressing, yoga, dogs, & caffeine 
DISLIKES → humblebraggers and name droppers, people who talk during movies, people who say ‘you look tired’, & willful ignorance  AESTHETICS → being up before the sun, the sound of skates on fresh ice, a vintage polaroid camera, a delicious smell coming from the kitchen, & a strong red wine.  
MORAL ALIGNMENT → chaotic neutral PERSONALITY TYPE → ENFP-T ( the campaigner )

BACKSTORY.

❦ amara monette was born and raised in spring hill, new jersey to a marine biologist and local contractor. her family has always been fairly well known in town as her father has been quite a pillar in the community and his company has done a lot of work for the town. her only sibling is six years younger than her and the two sisters have been like oil and water since the beginning and have never been able to see eye to eye on anything.

❦ the monette family dynamics could easily be categorized as dysfunctional but in amara’s eyes, that term is putting it lightly. there’s never been any doubt in the eldest daughter’s mind that she was an unplanned accident—a fact she’d gotten her mother to admit after heavy plying with wine when she was only a young teen. “if we didn’t have you, I could still be doing what I love.” her mother blathered drunkenly.

❦ the only person who didn’t treat her like that—as though she’d ruined their life—was her father, though due to his work, he spent more time out of the house than with his family. unlike her mother or sister, the one thing her father always did was encourage amara. remind her that no matter what she was striving for, it was possible and just within reach.

❦ the bond amara shared with her father was special, just as the bond her sister shared with their mother was special. though her sister also shared a loving, positive bond with BOTH of their parents and what amara shared with their mother was anything but positive or loving.

❦ at the age of four, her mother enrolled her in ballet classes hoping to teach the rambunctious little girl some discipline. much to her mother’s surprise, mara fell in love with dance immediately. but ballet, or dance in any such capacity, hadn’t been apart of her mother's ultimate plan for her. the following year, despite all the crying and protests from her daughter, the wannabe ballerina found herself being taught to ice skate.

❦ she didn’t particularly enjoy skating, not like the other girls she trained with did, but amara succeeded in ways many of them couldn’t over the years. her indifference to the sport and at being the best had given her an edge above the competition. and the more naturally gifted she proved to be at the sport, the further her mother pushed amara and the more intense the training became. as she got older she managed to convince her mother to let her enroll in dance classes once more if only to help in the long run, she’d say. it was in those moments, those classes, that she felt most at peace. as though she’d found just where she was meant to be—or what she ought to be doing. she’s never stopped dancing since. 

❦ at the age of nine, her mother had her pulled out of school to be privately tutored so she could spend more time on the ice—her mother only had one goal and she never let amara forget it. the olympics. though before her mother had the chance to remove her from school, the blonde had already made the best friend she could ever ask for. ( WC )

❦ it wasn’t until years later, at thirteen, she discovered that her mother had been forcing her down the same path she’d been set on as a girl. whereas her younger sister found herself free to pursue whatever interests she’d like, amara found herself on a rink shaped prison. and the unwavering pressure her mother applied only made it feel as though her ice space was forever shrinking.

❦ amara spent a majority of her youth and teens training, both on and off the ice, and whatever little free time she had left was spent with her small group of friends. friends her mother disliked for the most part and did all she could to keep her daughter away from. forcing amara to spend time with the other skaters in her class at every turn. not that she’d ever been able to fit in with them even if she wanted to. ( WCs )

❦ becoming a legal adult and dreaming of what it would finally be like to have the freedom she’d always longed for was just about all the blonde could do to keep moving forward. to keep her mother from truly bringing him down. but the relentless pressure from the cold-hearted woman and the fact that she showed no signs of letting up or letting amara walk away if she so desired to caused her to finally crack just a few months shy of her eighteenth birthday.

❦ like a thief in the night, amara disappeared from her parents home taking as many of her belongings with her as she could carry, save for all her skating gear. she spent several weeks sleeping on the couches of different friends while hiding from her mother and whatever wrath she intended to unleash for her missing so much ice time and standing up the coaches her parents paid plenty of money for.

❦ it was in those weeks of solitude that amara discovered what skating actually meant to her and just how much she still needed it in her life. the seventeen-year-old realized that she wasn’t as ready to hang up her skates as she previously thought and that there was still a thing or two she could learn from being on the rink.

❦ amara returned to the ice on the sole condition that her mother would let her do things her own way and would stop projecting her own regrets and more importantly wants on her daughter. things began to look up after that for the monette family in more ways than one and dysfunction that had once been so deeply rooted began to dissolve away just a bit. ( not so much between the sister lol, mostly just amara and her mom )

❦ she moved out on her own not long after, eager to have a life of her own as best she could, but being as clueless and willing to trust as she was, amara made many mistakes and gave her heart away much too easily which only led to it being crushed repeatedly by those who weren’t worthy of safeguarding it, to begin with. ( WCs )

❦ at twenty-one, after only dating for about a year amara married the man she believed was the one. however, it didn’t take her long to see just how incredibly wrong she was and the relationship was more toxic than anything else. she filed for divorce ten months later. ( WC )

❦ amara continued skating in hopes of making the olympic team—but this time the dream truly belonging to her, which seemed to pay off as she managed to do so successfully twice in 2014 and again in 2018. the blonde got a bronze medal in 2014 and didn’t place at all in 2018 after taking a nasty fall during her long program and making the mistake of not taking enough overall risks to make up for it. spooked after the olympic fall that nearly ended her entire career, amara decided to stop skating at a competitive level.

❦ in the following years, amara found herself joining several different national ice-skating tours but couldn’t quite shake the feeling of how far she’d fallen and how demeaning her life now seemed, skating for nothing more than mere amusement. unsatisfied and upset upon coming to the conclusion there was nothing else she could truly exceed at, amara took up the mantle that countless other incredible skaters also had, coach. a rewarding job that’s more or less left her at peace. 

OTHER IMPORTANT INFO.

❦ growing up, she was the most curious of children, constantly asking questions and wanting to know more about anything and everything. as the years passed, her curiosity never quite fizzled out as her parents as hoped. instead, the small blonde just became more confident in her ability to get the answers she sought and more determined to have it when a person wasn’t forthright with her. it’s something that leads her to trouble too often as she’s brought on a whole new meaning to the idea of questioning authority.

❦ amara can be quite a master of deceit and manipulation if she’d like. she gets a sort of amusement out of playing games with people and confusing them, especially with those she doesn’t get on well with. she definitely has a few different faces and is very particular about when she wears which face. her sweet face, where she’s likely to try and charm the pants off people, is the face she wears most of the time when interacting with strangers or just the general public. few people have ever seen her at her truest and those who have are either the ones she trusts most or the ones who’ve crossed her in unforgivable ways.

❦ anyone who knows amara is aware of how jealous or possessive she can be of those in her life she cares for. she’s never been able to quite help herself and isn’t afraid to make her feelings known when she feels her relationships have been infringed upon in any way. making friends and building relationships has always been something she’s struggled with as her childhood wasn’t normal in any sense. all her time after school was spent training—on or off the ice. and when she wasn’t training she was home with her family who she didn’t quite mesh with.

WANTED CONNECTIONS.

childhood best friend

ex-husband

father

younger sister

old friends —

new friends 

rivals 

exes / flings 

i’m here for it allll!