#the Amount of times when it's me and a 50 year old making the same references and my peers like. I do not know what you're saying to me

[iwonderwh0]

If there's one thing to thank anti hankcon discourse it's for the folks around their thirties gathering to tell the teens that they are, in fact, adult enough to decide for themselves who to fuck with and that they do, in fact, find older people attractive.

(And also collectively asking folks in their teens-to-early 20s to stop using the word p*dophilia when talking about literal 30+ years olds.)

Like really, throwing this words in relation to adults downplays its actual weight in its actual fucking meaning, and this is really scary. Age gap might be a controversial topic but not anywhere near it is a matter of comparable scale to what the word ped*philia stands for. Don't turn this word into a buzzword, I'm begging you.

[menlove]

one of my Complexes is that I was raised an only child by gen x'ers who were both young, one of whom acted like a sibling, and both whom raised me like they were raised & on the media they were raised on & we were poor enough that I also got the "latchkey kid" complex most gen x'ers had so now when I'm hanging out with gen x, millennials, and gen z (my actual generation) at least 75% of the time I relate more to the gen x'ers like 🧍‍♂️

[loliwrites]

I. Tenacity | Edelweiss

pairing: joel miller x f!reader  rating: explicit, 18+, minors dni  warnings/tags: jackson era!joel, sharpshooter!reader, age difference [joel is mid 50s, reader is early 30s], joel lives forever fight me, canon compliant violence, no infected here just terrible humans, mention of death, blood, and murder, mentions of hunger, diva cup appearance, talk of irregular menstrual cycles [trauma-induced menopause][epigenetics], DUBCON/NONCON [tagging ‘cause reader allows it but true enthusiastic consent is absent], brief SMUT, unprotected p in v sex, female reader, no physical description other than a height difference, slow burn-ish, protective!joel, no use of y/n. word count: 5.6k series masterlist a/n: my first go at writing something tlou-related. be gentle pls.

⌾ ⌾ ⌾ ⌾ ⌾

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.

The steady rhythm. You could count the number of times your hip would be shoved into the wooden table with a high degree of certainty of when it would be over. Michael never lasted too long. Somewhere between thirty-four and thirty-seven thrusts. He was never particularly rough, and though he was never chasing to make you feel good, he was at least better than George and James – both of whom would probably be lining up after Michael was done. George seemed to last forever. Some old fart who’d gained his stamina before the world came to a screeching halt. He usually landed somewhere between sixty-two and sixty-six thrusts. The bruises he left behind always lasted the longest because of the sheer amount of times he slammed your body into whatever you were up against. A table, a railing, an old pool table with torn, dirty felt. And the worst of all was James. He may not last the longest, but he had the uncanny ability of making you feel like some depraved wild animal he was trying to break. He never took his time to make sure it wouldn’t be absolutely painful like Michael did. Nor did he have a pencil dick to make it somewhat manageable like George. He took it how he wanted it – fast, unceremonious, and always left you in a mess you’d have to clean up.

Part of you wondered if this was worth it. If the wolf was only as strong as the pack, then having a pack was supremely necessary. And though, these guys… and the group they led… weren’t the people you would’ve gone with by choice. A pack was a pack. Alone, you were an easy target for almost anything and anyone. Being together afforded you safety in numbers. Relative safety in numbers. Safe enough to have stayed alive with them for the past six years. Years that you likely wouldn’t have gotten if you’d fought them tooth and nail and went off on your own. Solitude could only get you so far. No matter how proficient you were with your rifle.

The one that lay in front of you on the table. Clean, well-oiled, with a scope affixed to the top. As Michael started to moan recklessly behind you, you thought about the meals you’d forfeited in trade for the supplies needed to keep the weapon in the best of shape. Times were tough – had been tough for a couple decades now – and a gun was a gun. It didn’t need to be clean, it just had to work. But this was no ordinary gun.

Michael came inside you with a strangled grunt and pulled out a second later. That was a relatively new twist in the routine. For years the men were careful to never finish inside you… or any of the other women in the group. Food and resources were scarce enough as it was, let alone adding little mouths to feed and take care of. But a few months back, you’d confided in some of the women that your period hadn’t been coming when you expected it to. And when time had passed and neither a baby nor your period came, you came to the conclusion you were suffering from the same fate as some of the other women. A hard life compounded. Trauma induced menopause. You weren’t sure which of the women had ratted you out. But soon enough the men had become aware of your new biological situation, and they stopped the frantic pulling out as they came. Perhaps that was for the best. Who’d want to bring a child into a world like this?

“Was that alright?” Michael asked, buckling his belt back up. His back was turned toward you as he reached for his own rifle, which he’d propped up against the wall.

You glanced over at him and pulled your pants back up your legs. Over the lofted railing, you could hear George and James mumbling to each other. “Fine,”

“Did you…?”

He finally met your eyes. Anxiety-ridden. None of the other men ever asked, but you didn’t have it in you to lie to him. At some point maybe it’d sink in that he should stop partaking in the act just to fit in with the boys. “No,”

His gaze averted to the floor sheepishly and he shouldered his rifle. “Guess we should get back downstairs,”

“I’ll be down in a couple minutes,”

Now you were the one to turn your back on him. Though you hoped he’d come to his senses and start to become a better man. You knew he wouldn’t. He was initiated into the system. The one George and James, and all the other men in the settlement formed. The one that meant they brought girls along on patrols so they could get their kicks and save face with the others that they were doing their due diligence in protecting the group. And you joining the group… well you turned out to be the little guardian angel for the women in the pack. Good with a gun, able to pick off infected and humans alike from a mile out. It only seemed natural that the men going out on patrols would take you with them. For that you inadvertently protected the other women from your fate. 

Michael cleared his throat and started down the stairs from the loft. You bit the inside of your cheek to show yourself you could still feel something, and – BANG! 

Your head flicked around toward the noise. What was left of Michael was splattered against the wall leading up the stairs. You grabbed your gun and held it poised. Looked over the lofted banister and down at the room below. George had backed up into the far corner; his arms raised in non-threatening compliance. Someone must’ve been pointing a weapon at him, but you couldn’t tell from the angle. And James, well… if it didn’t warm your heart a little bit to see him being restrained in a chokehold with a handgun to his temple. The man you could see, holding James, was tall, muscular… he had black, curly, jaw-length hair. A thick mustache. He was in all denim. And it was clean, which was the thing that caught you the most off-guard.

You lifted your gun, disregarding the scope, and looked down the barrel. James may’ve been part of your pack, but you’d thought about putting a bullet in him on a daily basis for the last eight years. And while these guys might kill you afterward, at least you’d have the brief satisfaction of knowing that you’d taken one terrible human off the face of the planet.

So there was no hesitancy when you squeezed the trigger. The round flew by the denim-clad man’s head and went straight into James’. He crumpled to the floor and the man who’d been holding him looked up in your direction, though you’d backed away enough to ensure you weren’t seen.

Your pulse was pounding in your ears. Despite two thirds of your life having been in a post-Cordyceps world, the sound and reverberation of your rifle going off right by your ear didn’t keep it from ringing. An almost concussion-like haziness emphasized by the adrenaline coursing in your veins. From down below, you could just barely hear George pleading for his life. Something about how he had a woman he loved and wanted to go home to. Strange considering he had his dick in you on most days out.

The ringing in your ears started to quiet, just in time for you to hear a footstep behind you. A heavy one. Definitely belonged to a man. But not in time for you to spin around with your rifle before finding the man already pointing his rifle at you.

“Drop it,” he commanded gruffly. A deep, gravelly voice. He was sure of himself. Confident. His tattered jacket bunched up around his shoulders. He wasn’t as clean-looking as his partner currently detaining George. Graying, brown hair, a prominent scar over his nose, a scruffiness… and yet, he still looked too put together to have been living off the land for any amount of time. You should know. God knows what you looked like had you ever taken any time in front of a mirror. If the dirtiness of your hands were any indication, you were a little worse for wear. “I said, drop it,”

Your eyes flicked back up to his face and you slowly bent over and placed your rifle on the floor. No sooner than you’d completed the action, he had another order for you. Kick it here and get on your knees. So you did. Nudged your most prized possession away with your foot when another BANG! rang through the old hunting lodge. Your eyes flinched shut; the nanosecond of thought that this was it. You’re dead. But then… you still felt alive. And you squinted your eyes open to evaluate. Yep, definitely still alive. No bleeding holes coming from your body, and the man still in front of you waiting for you to comply with his last order. Which you did… awkwardly. A grimace stretched over your face when you knelt down and felt your pants sticking to your thighs; Michael’s spend dripping out of you.

The muzzle of the man’s rifle never left you, “got anything else on you?”

“Knife in my front pocket,”

“Slide it over,”

You did. Quickly. Hoping that your quickness and willingness to obey him would mean he’d let you go with your tail tucked between your legs.

“You infected?”

You glared at him, “do I look infected?”

He cocked his gun and held it up in line with your head. You trained your eyes on his index finger around the trigger. Just one twitch. That’s all it’d take.

“Joel,” both you and the man… Joel… looked away from each other, and fixed your eyes on the stairs where the second one – the one you’d disregarded in order to kill James – entered the loft. “Look at her gun,” both men looked at your rifle. “I don’t think she misses very often. If she was gonna kill us, we’d already be dead.”

He went to approach you, and this time Joel spoke up. A cautious step forward, “Tommy.”

But this Tommy… he took another couple steps in your direction and handed off his rifle to Joel when he went to stand in front of you. You kept your eyes on his face, tilting your head back to keep him in your line of vision. Even if he tried something, you weren’t sure what you’d do to stop him, but at least you’d see it coming.

“I don’t think you missed me. I don’t even think you were aiming at me,”

“I wasn’t,”

A victorious smile spread across his face and he twisted around to look back at Joel, “see.” Tommy looked back down at you and set his hands on his hips. “What’s your name?”

You flicked your eyes at Joel quickly before returning them to Tommy to answer his question.

“You’re with the other settlement?”

“I wouldn’t call them a settlement,” your eyes flicked over to Joel when he clicked his tongue on his teeth and rolled his eyes. “Nomads, at best,”

“And at worst?” Joel barked.

Your eyebrows lifted quickly in contemplation before… “a bunch’a assholes,”

Another wide grin broke out over Tommy’s face. “You got a family or a partner in that bunch of assholes?” He waited for a verbal response but you only shook your head. “We’ll take her back with us. She might be able to give us some answers about our friends we’ve been seeing on patrol.”

⌾ ⌾ ⌾ ⌾ ⌾

They made you walk while they sat easily atop their horses. Some kind of cruel twist of fate that your own gun was turned on you the whole time. Joel made sure of that. Based on the way the sun fell toward the horizon, you figured you’d all been an hour and a half walk south of their settlement. Which as you neared the large wooden gates, seemed to be more like a QZ than some random encampment. And judging by the way the two men bickered, you assumed they were brothers. Only siblings could piss each other off like that and not take it personally. How lucky, you thought, that after all this time, they still had each other.

When you did near the enormous gates, Tommy left you behind with Joel. A precarious position. His face remained stoic the entire time, muzzle of the gun pointed at you… didn’t even answer when you asked if his horse had a name. You thought about goading him into an argument for the fun of it. Maybe he named his horse Princess. Or Spike. But Tommy interrupted again, riding up with a handful of others and even a dog. It growled and snarled in your direction, and you weren’t sure why, but you glanced back up at Joel to see if his expression had changed. Maybe you wouldn’t be so scared if he didn’t look like there was something you should be nervous about.

To your surprise, he was already staring at you. Upon meeting your gaze, he nodded once and jut his chin in the direction of the dog. “S’gonna sniff you. See if you’re infected. If not, like you say, nothin’ll happen.”

“If I am?” You cocked your head back toward the snarling animal.

“It’ll probably just take your leg off or somethin’,”

“Any chance this dog fucks up?”

“Probably not,”

And it didn’t. Thankfully. Hopefully this meant they’d trust explicitly that you indeed weren’t infected. They seemed to trust their trained animal enough to let you inside their settlement. Jackson, they called it. You’d never heard of it. Never heard of any rumblings of a massive commune. And yet…. It was gorgeous. Nice buildings, string lights, stables, a bar, dining hall, and in the distance, what seemed to look like a large, sweeping neighborhood.

Tommy had joined up with a woman: Maria. They kissed and spoke fondly to each other, so you assumed they were partners. Both walked ahead of you, while Joel remained at your rear. You figured with your rifle still pointed at you. Everyone stopped what they were doing when you passed by. All staring to get a glimpse of the newcomer. Would you be joining them permanently? Would they kill you? You asked yourself the same questions.

Your feet had stopped moving but you didn’t notice until you felt the muzzle of your rifle press against your upper back. Joel jabbed the metal against your back again, growing antsier with the fact that your gaze had settled on a teenager in the distance. She was staring at you, too. A fact that seemed to make Joel even more aggravated. He mumbled his annoyance to you and you got moving again, walking up the boarded steps into the dining hall. 

⌾ ⌾ ⌾ ⌾ ⌾

They treated you better than you expected. Hell, better than your group would’ve treated someone they didn’t know. They set a big glass of water in front of you with a heaping plate of vegetables, chicken, and fresh bread. The water was one of the biggest surprises. You couldn’t remember the last time you didn’t have to boil water before drinking it. Maybe when you were still with your parents. That felt like a lifetime ago.

Tommy and Maria shared glances like they weren’t sure what you were going to tell them. Considering no one else joined you, you figured these three (or a combination) held a great deal of power in the settlement. Joel, however, looked pissed that this was even happening at all. That he hadn’t just shot you on sight back at the hunting lodge. It was pretty easy to ignore him. You’d spent the better half of your time on earth ignoring men just like him. But then the questions started coming and you figured all this kindness came at a price. They wanted to know everything. So you didn’t hold back. Maybe if you were open and frank with them, they’d let you stay here. They wouldn’t make you go back to those awful people. 

Told them that you’d been with that group for the last eight years. And in those eight years, they hadn’t really expanded their numbers by any considerable amount. That they hovered somewhere between forty-four and sixty-two people -- including the three that had been killed today – and that about two thirds of them were men. You even told them about how you’d become a sort of fun novelty for the men. That they brought you along on their scouts because you were better than anyone with a rifle. Once they got their rocks off by watching you down game a mile off, they got their rocks off again, fucking you up against anything sturdy enough to withstand the weight and pressure. 

Joel looked down at his lap at that. Avoided your eyes. You took it to mean that he knew what that was like. Maybe he did the same. 

You shrugged and pushed the remnants of food around on your plate. Eight years was a long time to endure that type of treatment. You told them as much.

“You don’t have loyalty to anyone in the other group?” Maria asked, probing. 

“She shot one of her own guys today. Doesn’t have loyalty to anyone,”

Everyone’s heads turned to Joel. He’d since leaned back in his chair, almost nonchalantly. The gun that had been pointed at you now lay on the opposite end of the table. You thought you saw indignance in his eyes. Disdain for you and the plight he perceived you to be on. Scorched earth. Loyal to no one but yourself. Maybe that was true. Maybe you’d evolved to become highly selective in where to lay your loyalty.

“He wasn’t my guy,” you spat in Joel’s direction. It might as well have been just the two of you in the room. “He was the guy that killed my parents. So fuck him,”

It was hard to tell what they thought of you. Tommy was the only one who smiled freely. Maria saved hers for Tommy. And Joel didn’t smile at all. There was no talk of a plan or a future. No conversation about what was to become of you. All they told you as you wandered from the main street and down one cul-de-sac road lined with houses was that they didn’t allow anyone to have weapons in town. All firearms stayed at the armory. 

That conversation ended as they stopped in front of a small one story cottage. It was dark and rickety, and for the life of you, you couldn’t fathom who you were to be put into the arms of. If the house was any indication, probably some horribly untidy mess of a man. Maybe it’d be the type of man you’d wished you’d have your gun around for. 

Maria, Tommy, and Joel led you inside that dark, rickety cottage. Unlocked the door and flicked the lights on as they entered the living room. You kept your eyes and ears alert. Your awareness might be the only upperhand you had in sensing danger here. But you heard nothing. You saw nothing. There wasn’t another soul in this house waiting to attack. It was just you and the three who’d brought you here. They didn’t offer an explanation. Joel just stood back and eyed your every move carefully while Maria handed you a little stack of clean clothes, a toothbrush and a tube toothpaste, and a small cardboard box that held something you’d never heard of before: a diva cup. 

You looked up to give her an apprehensive glance but found that she was already giving you one. It was a look you’d seen before. When you’d talked yourself into joining that other group all those years ago. It was the look the women had given you before they realized you were about to become their saving grace. She turned away from you and gave Tommy a peck on her way out; not even bothering to acknowledge Joel.

There was a part of you that admired her. For the amount of power she clearly wielded over not only these two men, but seemingly the entire commune. And the other part of you was scared of her. She reminded you of your mother. A strong, domineering type who knew how to control the men around her. You figured if the outbreak hadn’t happened and humans didn’t devolve before your very eyes, you might’ve become the same type of woman. The type who could keep her men in line with a look. The type whose men would’ve quivered at the look you’d shot them.

The front door shut behind Maria in the same moment Tommy was handing you a key. You took it in your hand and ran your thumb over the cold, smooth metal. It had been decades since you held one like it. Surely even before the outbreak, people just didn’t hand over keys to houses for nothing.

“You can stay in Jackson for a month on a little trial run–”

“Probation,” Joel interrupted.

Both you and Tommy flicked your eyes at him. While Tommy looked annoyed, you actually smiled. Somehow Joel’s bluntness was growing to be comforting.

“Jesus, Joel,”

He shrugged, “S’call it what it is. Probation to see if she’s a problem and we gotta send ‘er packin’,”

“Appreciate you both not shootin’ me,” you said, you voice sounding hoarse. You cleared your throat and shook your head absently; a small smile passing over your lips, “would’ve put a damper on my day.”

Tommy grinned though his brother looked unamused at your effort of levity. “Someone’ll come ‘round tomorrow morning around seven-thirty to bring you to the greenhouse. Teach you the workflow down there.” Then off your confused look, he smiled again, heading for the door, “if you’re gonna live in the community, you gotta help out.”

Joel turned his back on you to follow his brother, and you were quick on their heels, “what about my gun? I mean, does everyone have their own gun at the armory, or…”

“It’s a commune. We share,” Tommy said over his shoulder as he tugged the front door back open. He and Joel stepped through the threshold, but your voice stopped them.

“It’s just that… I’d rather not be here and have my gun, than be here and have someone else usin’ it. I appreciate what you’re doin’, and your helping me out, but… to me, staying in Jackson isn’t worth havin’ someone else use my weapon,”

“It’ll be safe,”

Tommy’s voice rang clear and sure, trying to reassure you of something. What, you weren’t certain. But he continued on his way, and only once he stepped off the small porch, did you realize that Joel had momentarily kept himself frozen in place. By your front door, staring you down. You started to shrink back beneath his gaze, unable to discern what it was trying to convey to you. Anger. Resentment. Disappointment. The door nearly concealed you entirely before Joel got his bearings again and descended the porch steps and jogged to keep pace with Tommy again.

⌾ ⌾ ⌾ ⌾ ⌾

The whole thing was weird. All of it. Jackson was an anomaly and the more you tried to make yourself at home, the weirder it got. The house they’d just given you was definitely a pre-outbreak build. It was obvious. Some of the other houses on the block looked new. You imagined they’d smell new. Not your cottage. Scuffed up wood floors. Cracks in the paint and drywall. Even the wood-burning stove. And when you looked out the front window, out at the street, you saw children. Walking by themselves. Joking around. Not nearly on edge or high alert. In fact, you dared to say that they looked like they were having fun. 

You’d only been ten when the world came crashing down around you. Fun ripped out from right under your feet. The homestead you’d grown up on – climbing trees, playing hide and seek, shooting down Coke cans – once a safe place to be a kid, had quickly become something to be defended. As you found out many moons later, to the death.

At ten, there wasn’t anything to rebuild in the new world. You hadn’t had any worldly possessions to hang onto. When money became obsolete, it didn’t matter because you’d never had any. Perhaps in a bank somewhere, stuffed away in a savings account that no longer held any weight. Nor did you need the money to get by in life these days. You’d heard tales of the QZ’s from people who’d come from them. Escaped from them. They had a new type of currency. Not the kind you used to have. The green paper money with a bunch of old dudes on the front. The kind your family burned sometime in the winter of 2006 when the first freeze took over and you were sure you’d never get back to the old normal.

And that was what made Jackson the weirdest. It was the closest to ‘old normal’ you’d seen in over two decades. A whole town. Village. Commune, they’d called it. A formal education had stopped young, so the only awareness of anything commune related came from a book your father had about the Bolshevik’s October Revolution. And if you were being honest, it didn’t sound too good. But on top of that, how were you supposed to rebuild now? Maria had been kind enough to give you a few things, but there wasn’t wood for the wood-burning stove. And the electricity might’ve been working, but there wasn’t any food in the fridge. No sides of deer cut up and stored in a chest freezer. How were you supposed to get that in a commune? Did they have money? Did they barter? And either way, you had no money to give and nothing to barter. So how exactly were you supposed to get on in life?

Face up, staring at the ceiling, you laid in bed willing yourself to go to sleep. You’d gone to bed hungry before. More times than you could count. But usually those nights were accompanied by a dirt floor, extreme cold, the threat of being hunted. A million other things to keep your mind off of the fact that your stomach was growling. There wasn’t any of that in Jackson. Everything was quiet, almost eerily so. You were warm. And even though the mattress wasn’t the comfiest of things, it sure as hell beat the floor. With all these little luxuries, it was hard to ignore the hunger.

But even if you had been asleep, you’re sure you would’ve been woken by the footsteps on your old, rickety porch. None of the wood planks laid exactly right. All creaking with age and rot. Much like the world, you thought. Plus you couldn’t remember a night’s sleep that wasn’t disturbed by panic or anxiety, or just plain fear. Probably hadn’t had a peaceful night like that since before the outbreak. Now that creaking on your porch made you jump up and scurry into the corner of your bedroom. Into the shadows. Praying you’d had your rifle. Cursing the idea that you’d stay here without it. 

The creaking came and went in a steady procession. Four footsteps. A pause. Another four footsteps. On and on for a few minutes. Long enough for you to have gained your courage again. Long enough for you to have crawled to the front room and peek through the window. Long enough for you to see Joel Miller ambling back and forth on the porch, stacking pieces of wood, conveniently chopped to fit the size of your wood burning stove. What a stark difference from the Joel Miller who’d been pointing a gun at your head this morning. You went to the door and unlatched it, slowly pulling it open so as to not startle him. He came to an abrupt stop. An armful of wood. Staring at you.

He blinked a couple times in quick procession, gaining the wherewithal to move again. “M’sorry if I woke ya’,”

You shook your head, “I don’t sleep much.”

Joel nodded and set the armful of wood on top of the rest. He wiped his hands on the back of his jeans, almost sheepishly. “Winter comes up on us pretty quick here. Insulation in this place is for the birds. Figured you’d need some wood for the stove.”

“Oh,”

“I cleaned out the flue a couple months back so you shouldn’t smoke yourself out,”

Lips pursed together, you pondered the stack of wood nestled up against the cottage. “I don’t think I’m gonna stay. Doesn’t seem like this is the right place for me,”

Joel didn’t have a response for you, just looked down at his feet and kicked at a nonexistent something on the porch.

“That gun–my gun. My dad gave it to me in 2003. September 26th,”

Joel’s eyes flicked back to yours. Pain riddled in his gaze as if he remembered that date all too well. And when it vanished, the coldness you’d first noticed in the hunting cabin returned.

“It’s all I have left. And as ridiculous as it sounds to be so attached to a rifle, I am. And I–”

“It doesn’t sound ridiculous,” he interrupted. Just when you thought he’d continue on and show a little more softness, kindness… he kept speaking, “Look, I don’t care if you stay or go. Don���t need stragglers hangin’ ‘round. So I’d love to give you your gun back and dump ya’ out past the gate. But Tommy’s always been a little stupid. Takes chances on people,”

“What an idiot,” you smirked.

A smile flashed over Joel’s face. It was gone in a second. And he turned away from you, descending the porch steps. “He’ll bring you to the greenhouse. Teach’ya how things operate, and…” he took a deep breath. Something almost like fondness erupted in his tone, “you might not wanna stay, but don’t fuck things up there for the rest of us. We got families here. And we’ll need the resources to get through the winter.”

“You think I’d fuck things up on purpose?”

Joel looked over his shoulder and nodded, “yeah. ‘Cause I’ve been in your spot before and I did.”

He continued on and you stayed put on your porch, watching him until he was out of sight. Wondering where the house he was given was. If he was alone, or if he had some sort of partner living with him. But also figured you’d never get the chance to know. 

⌾ ⌾ ⌾ ⌾ ⌾

“We get most of our roughage and root vegetables in the colder months. There’s a constant harvest to keep up with the community’s needs, but some of these aren’t hearty enough to withstand the winter. Even inside the greenhouse,”

You nodded dutifully behind Wendy. At least you think that was the name Tommy mumbled as he was being dragged out of the greenhouse by Joel. Something about being late for patrol and not wanting to spend all day on some godforsaken cliffside. She’d just got done showing you the strawberry vines. The lifeless things that she assured you would spring to life when the warmer weather came back.

The work was easy enough. Boring. Nothing you hadn’t already done on your family’s land as a teenager. Only this was on a much smaller scale. Maybe most of these people had come from QZs. And maybe before that they came from big cities. Places where they never knew where their food came from. That it just somehow appeared in their groceries. Yet, by current standards… of canned things from yesteryear, the greenhouse was a bit of a spectacle. Something beautiful.

Wendy continued on her well-practiced lecture about potatoes as you got lost roaming the rows of plants. Up and down each long, leafed path. Fingers gliding over them, not taking the time to stop and acknowledge any plant in particular. Until, in the absence of your thought, your fingers brushed over something woolly. Pulling your hand back, you focused in. There, just beyond your fingertips, a tray of small white flowers. The petals, less like blossoms, but more like leaves. And woolly. Fuzzy. Unlike anything you’d ever seen.

“What’re these?” Eyes still locked onto your discovery, you hadn’t fully comprehended that you’d interrupted Wendy’s spiel.

And yet when she came upon you, there was no ill will or annoyance from her. Just her gentle hand on your shoulder. “It’s edelweiss,” she smiled and shrugged her shoulders when her answer had you giving her a questioning glance. “It’s usually up in the Alps. In the middle of nowhere. Jesse came back from patrol one day ‘bout a year ago with a handful of these plucked up from the root. No idea how they ended up in Wyoming.” Wendy brushed her fingers over the fuzzy leaves.

“How’d you know what they were?”

“Call it coincidence or divine intervention, my grandfather had an oil painting of them above his fireplace in the eighties. When he was stationed in Germany during the war, he’d heard all these stories about this little star-shaped flower. Soldiers would climb high up into the mountains to find them. They grow in the harshest places, sometimes even right on rocks. The journey to get them was hard. A lot of guys didn’t finish the trip, but if they did, they got to pin one of these to their uniforms. A symbol of true bravery,”

You admired the flowers again. Now even a smile crossed your face.

Wendy let out an exasperated sigh, “and I figured, hell… if they can survive on the top of the Alps and in this nightmare of an apocalypse, Jesse finding ‘em wasn’t no mistake. Maybe we’re lucky here in Jackson.”

[eddieschains]

Dream Come True

Older!Eddie X Fem!Reader

credit to @eddiemunsons-missingnipple for the older eddie edit <3

Word Count: 2.8k

TW// 18+, age gap (reader is early 20s, Eddie is 50s), oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), degradation, face slapping, creampie, let me know if i missed anything!!

It was your parents 25th wedding anniversary. They liked to make a big deal out of it every 5 years, throwing a big party and inviting as many people as they could. You never understood why they couldn’t just go out to dinner alone to celebrate instead of dragging you along to hang out with their old friends. But he made it all worth it.

Eddie Munson. Your dads friend from high school. He was kind of old sure, but he was damn sexy. He had the softest looking long curly brown hair, peppered with just the right amount of grey. The perfect amount of scruff around his face, messy yet neat at the same time. And his arms and chest littered with tattoos.

He played in a metal band that your dad was a part of shortly in college, until he decided he’d rather marry your mom and start a family. Bleh. You had watched all the videos of their shows when he was younger, and while you should’ve been impressed by your dads skills as a musician, you could never take your eyes off of Eddie.

He was still in the band, constantly in LA recording or touring the world. He always made time to visit you and your parents when he was back in Hawkins though. You hadn’t seen him in about 5 years, the last time being your high school graduation, when he could barely keep his eyes off of you. You thought since you were freshly 18 he would finally take you someplace to fuck you raw, but that might’ve just been wishful thinking.

In reality, he didn’t pay much attention to you when he visited. Nothing more than the usual “how have you been” or “how’s school going?”. But, that wasn’t going to stop you from continuing to try and get his attention.

You opted for a short black dress, probably showing a little more cleavage than you usually would, some high heeled boots, and a simple silver necklace. You were in the kitchen of the beach house your parents rented, fixing yourself a drink while you waited for the guests so trickle in.

“Honey, can you greet people at the door and take their coats?” You hear your mom call from the other room. You roll your eyes before taking a sip of your wine and making your way to the door.

You spend the next 30 minutes welcoming all of your parents friends, frustratingly having to answer the same questions over and over and using your best fake laugh to laugh at all of their dad jokes. You were just about ready to leave and scream in the bathroom until you saw the black mustang pull up. Eddie.

You fix you hair and push your boobs up a little more before he makes his way to the door. “Sweetheart.” He bows his head, making his way into the house.

“Eddie.” You do the same. You ask to take his jacket and hang it with the rest. You decide your door duty is over once Eddie arrives, following him into the house. “This is nice. Didn’t know your old man bought a new place.” He says looking around, taking in all the little details.

“Oh it’s not ours, they just rented it for the party. Always need to make a big deal out of their love.” You scoff.

Eddie chuckles, “Marriage is a big deal. You’ll find that out soon enough.”

“No thanks. Marriage is just a big money grab. Why can’t I just spend the rest of my life with the person I love without the governments involvement? Plus it’s harder to get divorced than it is to get married.” You respond.

“You’re a smart girl. What are you studying again?” He asks, genuinely interested.

“Psychology. I graduate in a couple months.” You smile proudly.

“Ah you gonna tug at my brain tonight?” He laughs.

This is your chance to make a move, you think to yourself. “I could tug at something else if you’d like.” You whisper, a smirk on your face.

Eddie coughs, clearing his throat. “Uh i’m gonna go say hi to your parents.” He practically runs away. You would’ve been embarrassed by your boldness if you hadn’t noticed the way his cheeks turned red and his legs shook at your words.

You take your place back in the kitchen, avoiding conversation with the large group of people. You hear footsteps behind you and turn to see Eddie grabbing a beer from the fridge.

“Can’t stand being out there any longer without at least one beer.” You chuckle, mumbling in agreement. “When did your parents become so prissy?”

“Oh you mean they haven’t always been like this?” You laugh. “Dad got a promotion a couple years ago so I guess he feels the need to impress them.”

“You should’ve seen him in college, when he was still in the band. He was wild.” Eddie laughs, recalling the memories.

“As wild as you?” You raise an eyebrow, cocking your head to the side.

Eddie’s cheeks turn red, “I’m not wild.”

“You expect me to believe that the man who’s been rocking girls panties off for the last 30 years isn’t a wild one?” You step closer to him, hearing how his breathing changes. “I’ve seen what those hands can do.”

“Hey… stop.” You know he only says it because he should, not that he really wants you to.

You wrap your hand around his neck, pulling his ear down to your mouth. “But i’m not wearing any panties.”

Eddie lets a soft moan escape his mouth before running off. “I need to use the restroom.” You’re left in the kitchen, giggling and smirking to yourself, waiting a couple minutes before following him.

You put your head up to the bathroom door, listening to him heavy breathing and muttering curse words under his breath. You open the door, locking it behind you.

“What the fuck?!” He whisper yells. “What are you doing?”

“Oh I thought that was an invitation. You know, tell the girl you’re going to the bathroom, she follows…” You jump up on the sink, spreading your legs a little wider. “And then the guy fucks her brains out on the sink.”

Eddie sucks in a sharp breath, trying his best not to look you in the eyes. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

“But you want to, don’t you?” You jump off the sink, pulling him towards you. “Don’t think I forgot about the way you were looking at my tits at my graduation party. Or the way your eyes immediately went down to my thighs when I greeted you tonight. You’re a dirty old man, and I want to be your filthy… little… girl.” Your words send shivers down his spine.

“Fuck it.” He growls before pressing his lips against yours. His hands immediately reach for your hips, his fingers digging into them sure to leave marks tomorrow. You wrap your arms around the back of his head, pulling on his hair. He lets out a moan, and you take the opportunity to dip your tongue into his mouth.

He taste just like how you imagined. A mix of tobacco and mint, followed with a slight flavor of the beer he just drank. He removes his mouth from yours, moving down your neck, sucking on that sweet spot just behind your ear. His hands travel down to your ass, squeezing and slapping as he continues his assault on your neck.

You twirl your fingers in his hair, pushing him further into you as you feel the heat between your legs growing more and more intense. He backs you up until your back hits the sink, a whimper leaving your mouth. He lifts the bottom of your dress, exposing your naked cunt.

“Fuck. You weren’t lying.” You chuckle as he continues kissing and sucking your skin, moving further down your body. “You did this because you knew I was coming, huh? Or are you just that much of a whore?”

You moan at his words, loving the way he says it. “Oh you like that? Like when I call you a fucking whore?” You mumble an mm-hmm right as he reaches where you needed him the most. “God you have such a pretty pussy, baby. Mind if I have a little taste?”

“Please.” You whimper, and he dives right in. His tongue drags from your entrance, all the way up to your clit. “Fuck, Eddie.” You moan out as his tongue flicks back and forth.

He licks you up and down a few times before focusing on your clit. Attaching his mouth to your aching bud, and sucking it like it was his last meal. You couldn’t speak. It was like he took away your ability to form any kind of words. You’d never felt like this before, never gotten head like this before. He truly was a master, and not just when it came to music.

The filthy sounds of his tongue mixed with your own arousal was nearly enough to send you over the edge. You feel him bring his fingers up to your entrance, playing with it while gathering your wetness. He looks up at you, his mouth still on your cunt, looking for permission to keep going. You nod, and without another word he sinks two fingers into you.

“Oh my- fuck!” You scream out before bringing a hand to your mouth, not wanting to bring attention to what was happening in here. You feel him smile against your pussy, pushing his fingers in and out of you.

His fingers were thick enough, you had no idea how you were supposed to fit, what you assumed, was his even thicker cock. He continues to fuck you with his fingers, not relenting his attack on your clit. He moans into your pussy, sending even more vibrations of pleasure through you. He seemed to really enjoy eating your pussy. Maybe just as much as you were.

He starts to move his fingers faster, flicking his tongue across your clit searching for your orgasm. “Shit, Eddie- Eddie i’m gonna- fuck fuck fuck.” You can’t even make out a cognitive sentence with the pleasure you were feeling.

“Go ahead baby, cum for me. Cum on my face.” That was all you needed to hear before your legs were shaking, closing in on his head as yours was thrown back, cursing his name under your breath.

He keeps thrusting his fingers into you, softly to help you ride out your high. Once your breathing starts to regulate again, he pulls out, placing soft kisses on your thighs before moving up to your mouth. “You okay?” He asks, pecking your lips.

You nod, pulling him in for a deeper kiss. Placing your hand on the crotch of his jeans, you can feel just how much he enjoyed that. You palm at his rock hard cock through his pants, while he moans above you into the kiss.

“Can I suck you off?” You ask, continuing to press into him.

“Not gonna last. I need to be inside of you.” He moans, shuffling his pants off as quickly as possible, and you realize that you didn’t have to assume his size anymore. He was big. The biggest you’ve ever seen. Thick too. If you had to picture the perfect dick, he had it.

“Jesus christ.” You mumble, earning a chuckle from him. He spits into his hand, stroking his cock to prepare himself.

“Can I see your tits?” He asks, but doesn’t wait for an answer. He pulls the straps of your dress off, nearly tearing them, and pushes the top of your dress down so that it’s sitting on your waist. “Oh my god, we’re you created by the gods or something?”

“I was created by your best friend.” You smirk, reminding him of who exactly he was about to fuck.

He groans, twisting his eyebrows up. “Don’t remind me.” He places his hands on your tits, rubbing and squeezing them in circles before catching one in his mouth.

You place your hand on the back of his head as he licks and sucks on your nipple, his hand playing with the other before switching places. Once he’s has enough, he steps back, grabbing onto his cock and sliding it up and down your folds.

“Ready?” He asks as you nod furiously. He slides just the tip in, testing the waters. You wince as he stretches you open. It hurts only for a moment, but the earlier tongue fucking definitely helped you get used to it quicker.

He pushes more of his length in, an inch at a time until his balls hit the back of your ass. “Shit you’re so fucking tight. Could bust right now.” He moans before pulling out slightly, and pushing back in.

You grab onto his biceps for leverage as he picks up the pace. You pull him closer to you, pushing his hair to one side while your lips find his neck. He groans at the feeling, grabbing the back of your neck as he rapidly begins thrusting in and out of you.

“Oh my god- that’s it, fuck. Feels so good.” You moan in his ear. The sound of skin slapping fills the room, along with each of your moans. He moves his hands down to your hips, using them to fuck you back into him.

“Who would’ve thought my best friends daughter would be such a filthy fucking whore? Sucking my cock into her pussy like this? God you feel so fucking good on my cock like this.” His words continue to egg you on. You can’t say anything other curse words followed by moans of pleasure as he fucks into you.

You start to feel your high approaching again, embarrassingly quick and he takes notice. He pulls your head into his, pressing your forehead against his. “You gonna cum for me again? Gonna drench my fat cock with your cum? Hmm, baby?” You moan in response, but it’s not enough for him. “Use your words, tell me how good i’m making you feel right now.”

You still can’t find the words, and that’s when you feel a sharp slap across your cheek. “Say. It.” He growls, his thrusts speeding up as his thumb takes place on your clit. He rubs perfect circles on your clit while awaiting a response before slapping his palm across your cheek once again. “What the fuck did I just tell you? Say it.”

“Feels so good Eddie. Love the way your cock fills my pussy, gonna make me cum- fuck!” Your body goes limp as your second orgasm crashes over you. Eddie picks you up by your ass, moving your body against the bathroom door.

“That’s right, dirty slut loves the way I feel inside of her.” His body is keeping you up against the door as he continues to fuck into you with a hurried speed, chasing his own high. “How would she feel if I filled her up with my cum?”

All you can muster is a moan, receiving another slap across the face. “Use your fucking words.”

“Yes please Eddie, fill me up. Cum in me. I wanna feel you, please please please.” The overstimulation is almost getting to be too much as you feel a tear slide down your face.

Although, it doesn’t last long as he gives you a couple more hard thrusts before you feel his seed coating your walls. “Fuuuck.” He moans out, his head falling into your neck.

He stills for a moment, relishing in the feeling of his own orgasm before lifting his head to kiss you. He wipes your tears away before slowly sliding out of you and placing you back on your feet.

“You’re something else.” He laughs, pulling his pants back up.

“So are you.” You smile, fixing your dress. “Who knew old dudes like you could fuck so good?”

He shoots you a look, making you giggle. “Don’t tell your parents about this.”

You furrow your eyebrows and scoff. “Yeah let me just go down there and let them know their best friend just fucked the shit out of their daughter.” He laughs before exiting the bathroom and returning downstairs to the party.

You wait a couple minutes to follow him, not wanting to be suspected of anything. You make your way to your dad, hoping she didn’t notice that you and Eddie went missing.

“There you are honey. Oh what happened to your dress?” You look down, noticing the tear in your strap. You look over at Eddie, seeing the biggest smirk on his face as he sips his beer.

“Must’ve torn it this morning putting it on.” You respond, avoiding eye contact.

“Well you should go out a jacket on, make yourself look a little put together please.”

You sigh, walking away. “Yes daddy.”

You walk past Eddie as he grabs you arm, whispering in your ear. “Yes daddy.”

[room-surprise]

Addendum to Dungeon Meshi Age Calculations, and Thistle's age estimate...

This is sort of a sequel to two posts of mine, How to Calculate Comparative Ages of DM Characters and How Old Is Thistle?

I've seen some people claim that the age scale between elves and tall-men where elves age 5 times slower than tall-men can't be used accurately for elves that are very young or very old. I've also seen people claim that the half-foot age modifier is wrong.

I'm not a mathematician, but so far I have not seen any actual evidence that the 5:1 scale doesn't work, and a good amount of proof that it does, and I think the confusion about half-foot aging is a translation issue.

Please keep in mind, information about Marcille's age does not apply to any of this, because [SPOILERS].

WHAT ABOUT VERY YOUNG ELVES?

Here's something we know about the babies from the different races, which comes from Ryoko Kui's blog:

1 year old elven, dwarven and gnomish babies can only lay on their backs. Tall-man and half-foot 1 year olds can both stand, though the tall-man is not as good at it as the half-foot.

This lines up with real-world development milestones, human children can usually stand on their own somewhere between 9 to 12 months. Half-foots age faster than tall-men, so it makes sense that the half-foot would look more balanced and steady while standing.

A 2 year old elven baby has just gained the ability to sit up, while the babies of other races are walking or running. Normal human babies can sit up with help at around 5 months.

2 divided by 5 equals 0.4, that's 40%, and 40% of one year equals 4.8666666 months. That's 5 months.

I think it's very likely Kui herself is using the 5:1 ratio in order to calculate her elven ages in order to get this very specific 5 month developmental milestone to line up this way. So we can confirm that any elf over the age of 2 years old should have an age that is calculable with the 5:1 ratio. I also think it's not crazy to assume Kui may be using the numbers I calculated in my age post to work out other character's ages as well, since she's clearly doing it for the elves.

LET'S TEST IT WITH HALF-FOOTS

Human children learn to run between 18 and 24 months, so around 2 years old, like the chart shows us. 2 years divided by the half-foot age ratio (1.1428571429) equals 175% because they grow faster than tall-men.

175% of 2 years is 1277.5 days... Which is 3.5 years. So a 2 year old half-foot has the maturity of a 3.5 years old human child. 3 years old is when human children are expected to run and jump easily, and climb stairs without help.

That sounds about right to me, since the half-foot child in the drawing looks like they can confidently run around without balance issues. One foot is off the ground, and their arms are pulled in closer to the body than the tall-man child's arms.

Meanwhile the tall-man child is more unsteady, both feet firmly planted, standing with their arms held out as far as they can go to help with balance.

DOESN'T 29=50 FOR HALF-FOOTS?

Kui says that Chilchuck would be about 50 if he were a modern day human (which he isn't, he's a medieval half-foot), and then she says that half-foots in the time of Dungeon Meshi only live to be about 50 years old on average.

I'm pretty sure she's telling us that if Chilchuck were a human in our world, he'd be past middle-aged, and then for contrast, she tells us that most half-foots in Chilchuck's world die by age 50. Not that Chilchuck's 29 years is equivalent to a 50 year old modern human.

Chilchuck is 29 years old, and he had his first child at age 13. The average age of death for half-foots is 50, then that means middle-aged for a half-foot is 25.

Chilchuck is 4 years older than that, which makes Chilchuck past middle-aged. It does not make him developmentally the same as a 50 year old modern human though.

Using the numbers I've worked out, a half-foot would be developmentally 50 years old when they're 44.

Kui says that although Chilchuck wants to retire from going into the dungeons, if he did, it would be premature... Just like it would be premature for a 33 year old to retire.

In the real world retirement ages are connected to the average age of death. As that number goes up, so does retirement age. Because modern humans live until around 72, as a global average, retirement age is somewhere in their 60s.

So since half-foots average lifespan is 50, a normal age for Chilchuck to retire would be in his 40s.

WHAT ABOUT OLD ELVES?

The average age of death for tall-men is 60, however we know that tall-men can live into their 80s because Marcille's father did.

The average age of death for elves is 400, but they can live up to 500 years.

There's no reason to think that DM tall-men aren't like real world humans, and can't live into their 100's if they are lucky and wealthy enough. Even in the real medieval period, some people lived into their early 100's.

The thing that makes average death ages low in real life is usually issues like high infant mortality, starvation, war, lack of medical care, and lack of sanitation.

In the real medieval period, the average age of death was 30 not because people dropped dead at 30, but because SO MANY children died young that it pulled down the average. In medieval times, if you managed to live to 25, you had an average of 23 more years of life ahead of you, which is 48 years old.

I think Kui raised the average death age to 60 for tall-men to account for the fact that even tall-men have access to more advanced medicine and healing magic in DM, so infant mortality isn't as high and the adults live more than a decade longer.

The elves naturally have a longer lifespan since they live 5 times slower than tall-men. However they also probably have a far more advanced society than any of the other races in Dungeon Meshi. Fleki calls the Eastern Continent a "primitive land", and it's mostly populated by dwarves, gnomes and tall-men.

If elven culture was developmentally the same as tall-man culture, I bet elves would only live to about 300, which would be 60 for them, maturity wise.

WHAT DOES THIS MEAN?

80x5 is 400. That seems correct to me, a 400 year old elf would be considered elderly and getting close to the end of their life. An 80 year old tall-man would be considered VERY old, having lived past average expectations... But those expectations, as I said before, are based on poor living conditions, not biological certainty. 100x5 is 500, so the two maximum ages (100 and 500) also line up when you use the 5:1 ratio.

POSSIBLE MAXIMUM AGES FOR OTHER RACES

Using the same math, if gnomes and dwarves had the same culture as tall-men, they'd only live to be 150-ish instead of 240/200...

This is only a theory, but dwarvish and gnomish maximum possible ages should probably be around 250, if you multiply their age modifier (2.5) x100 like I did with the elves.

The current difference between their average age of death is probably attributable to lifestyle and cultural differences (gnomes use a lot more magic, and so they live longer).

Then, just to do the rest of the races:

Half-foots and orcs theoretical maximum age is 88. Ogres theoretical maximum age is 94. Kobold theoretical maximum age is 81.

Keep in mind, these numbers are based on the idea that "around 100 years old" is the oldest a human being can get. The oldest human to ever live survived until they were 122 years old... But obviously that is rare, and happened in the modern era.

Point is, there's wiggle room at the top end of the age limit, for some of the races that may be a matter of extra days or months, for others it could be an extra decade or two. But I'm using 100 for simplicity's sake.

Sorry for the long post! I hope this answers people's questions, and if I messed something up let me know!

[ellielatinagf]

Lacrosse! Ellie part 3

Summary: You finally get to meet up with ellie on a date! Is it a date? Technically….

Warnings: cursing, mentions of sexual activity, FLUFFFFFF lmk if I missed any

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4

“Girl no those colors DO NOT match” Dina huffed

“Then what can I wear??” You asked almost getting annoyed. Dina had been at you house since 8 am. It’s now 10 am. You’d both been trying to plan a cute outfit for your little “date” with Ellie. Unfortunately Dina is going overboard and dressing you like your going to the red carpet.

“I’m gonna go take a shower Din, can you just pick something cute and casual for me please?” You asked

“Ugh. Fine. I guess no dress then” Dina said grinning a bit. You rolled your eyes smiling and went into your bathroom.

You looked in the bathroom window to see a small amount of snow on the ground. Winter came a bit early this year. Not that you were complaining, you liked the winter. You removed your clothes and turned on the shower to warm water.

As you stepped in you thought of your meet up with Ellie. You’d be wrong to say you weren’t eager about it. You’d thought of both the meet up and Ellie all week. Maybe Ellie a little bit more. You thought of Ellie at your front door holding a bouquet of roses and giving you that goofy grin she has. You thought of Ellie holding your hand while you two sat in a large fancy restaurant. You though of Ellie’s lips on yours at your own made up wedding ceremony. And guilty enough, you thought of Ellie above you naked and prepared to give you all the love she had for you.

Your thoughts were soon cut off by Dina talking behind the door

“Hey are you almost done? I had a lot of fiber this morning!” Dina said. You quickly finished in the shower and put on what Dina had picked out.

You had some boyfriend jeans with a Nike hoodie and a puffer vest over it. It was cute and simple. You looked at your shoe rack. You’d remember Ellie’s shoes. Crusty, old, torn apart converse. As much as it was kind of disgusting, it was kind of cute and made you giggle. You put on your plain converse, maybe Ellie would notice.

dina unlocked the door and came out of the bathroom and smiled at you.

“You look gorgeous” Dina smiled “thanks to me” you giggled at her weird compliment.

“Call me after okay? And give me every detail too. And I mean I wanna know the exact time she blinked too” Dina said

“Okay okay okay I’ll tell give you how many freckles she has” you replied giggling

“More than 50 and I’ll be concerned” Dina joked back and you both went your separate ways.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*10:45 am*

You walked in the coffee shop that Ellie had given you the address for. It looked small and family owned. Those were typically the best coffee shops in your opinion.

As you walked in you scan the facility. Would Ellie be here already? Does she like to be fashionably late? Maybe she’d think you were too early.

Your thoughts all went away when you looked and saw a familiar figure sitting behind the counter on the window.

She looked so good. Ellie wore a black t shirt with a red flannel over it. She also wore some faded jeans with them. The jeans has some pain splash’s and…is that charcoal? She also, as assumed, wore those same converse.

You walked towards Ellie and smiled. You tapped her shoulder and she removed her headphones to look at you.

“Hey” You smiled.

“Hey You” ellie smiled back. She turned her body to look at you. You felt her eyes travel up and down your body. You didn’t feel uncomfortable by it, it was almost like she was taking you in. She seemed to have come back to reality and patted on the stool next to her.

“Sit. Um, I ordered you a coffee already if that’s okay?” Ellie asked. She seemed a little nervous. You couldn’t help the small blush forming in your cheeks.

“That’s perfect” You smiled. “So how’s your week?” You asked trying to make small talk.

“My week? Um. Just a lot of practice” ellie chuckled.

Hot

“How about you?” Ellie asked

“It wasn’t bad” You smiled. A waitress came over and brought out the coffee.

As you two sipped your coffee Ellie talked about lacrosse. You didn’t know much about it but with Ellie, she could talk about a single grain of rice and you’d be interested.

“Sorry, am I talking to much?” Ellie asked cringing at herself.

“What? Oh no. I like hearing you talk” You replied. You felt yourself blush once again.

“I just think maybe I talk too much and it like, scares people away” Ellie chuckled awkwardly.

“I like hearing you talk” you repeat. Your cheeks were starting to feel hot. You contemplated going outside and shoving your face in the snow just to cool down.

“Yeah but…I like your voice too” Ellie mumbled. She said it so low, but you could just make out what she said.

“Is that the only thing?” You asked softly.

“Hm?”

“Is that the only thing you like about me?” You asked. You have absolutely no idea where and why this boldness has hit you like a speeding truck.

“….no” ellie replied sipping her coffee. You both looked out the window. The empty road. The white snow covering everything. The way that even though it was the afternoon, the grey sky illuminated the whole view.

“What else do you like?” You asked.

“….I like your smile” Ellie replied once again so softly you could barely make out the words. Your blush grew deep. But not as deep as you saw Ellie’s grow.

“I like your hair” Ellie said.

Oh she’s doing this…

“I like your pretty face” she says looking down in the cup of her coffee. You smiled and looked at Ellie. She turned her head to look at you. Once she saw that you weren’t uncomfortable by her words she smiled back.

“You wanna hear a good song?” Ellie asked.

“Yeah sure” you smiled putting your coffee down.

Ellie got out her phone and plugged in the earbuds. She handed you one as she looked for a song. You blushed and took the earbud in your ear and looked at Ellie with a look that said “I love you”.

Ellie looked at you and smiled. That smile. That grin your always thinking of. Those eyes you can never remove from your memory. Those freckles you wish you could kiss. Is there anything really stopping you from kissing them?

Ellie pressed play on the phone and you both listend to the lyrics

I thought that I was dreamin’ when you said you love me

The start of nothing

Had no chance to prepare, couldn’t see you coming

And we started, from nothing

Ooooh I could hate you now, it’s alright to hate me now

You listened to the rest of the song with Ellie. After it was done she smiled at you

“You like it?” Ellie asked

“Like it? It’s Frank ocean. Who doesn’t like Frank ocean?” You chucked.

“That’s what I’m saying! My friend, Jesse, says he’s mid and it doesn’t even make sense! Frank ocean is a lyrical genius, with the voice of an Angel” Ellie said. You giggled and smiled at her. She returned your smile.

For what seemed like eternity you stared into each others eyes. Her green orbs could light up any room. Her pink cheeks only helped bring out her freckles that were decorated around her face.

“What time do you have to go…pretty girl?” Ellie asked. Your face felt like it was on fire. You looked outside to see it be somewhat dark. Figures, with the winter change. You look at your phone clock

*3:17 pm*

“Hmm..probably now. I promised Dina I’d go to her house” you replied. Dreadfully of course. You wished you could just take Ellie everywhere you go.

“Me too. I have a game today” Ellie replied.

“Oh, you should send me your schedule. I want to go to another game” you smiled. Ellie chirped up and looked at you.

“Really?” She asked “but I thought you said you didn’t know anything about lacrosse?”

“Yeah but I mean…I can learn” you replied.

“Is there….any other reason you’d want to go?” Ellie asks. She knows what she’s doing doesn’t she?

“We’ll maybe…there’s Someone I’m looking forward to seeing” you replied blushing once again. With the amount of blood rushing to your face in this “date” you probably don’t have anymore blood in the rest of your body.

“Maybe someone’s expecting to see you too” Ellie replied smirking. That smile. God that smile.

As you both started to leave you both said your goodbyes at the door.

“Text me when you get home, mkay?” Ellie’s asked.

“Text me when you win your game” you replied. Ellie smiled at you. You stayed there, smiling and staring. You felt yourself leaning in toward Ellie. Like something was pulling you in. Ellie felt it too. You stopped when your lips were inches from hers.

*Dinasaur calling*

What a cockblcok

“Um sorry” you said chuckling nervously scrambling to turn off your phone.

“Oh heh no yeah sorry about that um…text you later?” Ellie asked

“Mhm yeah…bye Ellie” you said

“Bye babe” ellie replied smiling and walking away

after a couple minutes of walking you revived a text from Ellie

*if you could see my thoughts you would see our faces*

Your heart almost stopped. You thought your body was gonna explode. You knew it was yet another Frank ocean lyric, but you couldn’t help but be delusional over the fact that maybe it means something more. Maybe she wants something more.

You picked up the phone to call Dina back

“I’m gonna kill you” you huffed at your professional cockblocker.

I actually LOVEEEEEE this part omg. I hope you guys love it just as much as I do and I sooo wanted more fluff and I know you guys probably do too!Thanks so much for reading and I hope I won’t disappoint with the next part! Bye loves!! Free Palestine 🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸

Tag list: @vqxen @bready101 @vampyangel @gato-chino @a-little-bit-of-everybody @lilylynne11 @lively-blues

Love you all!!! Free Palestine 🇵🇸 from the River to the sea🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸

[physalian]

How to Keep your Insecure Character from Becoming a “Nice Guy”

Or Nice Girl

The very last book I will have beta’d for the foreseeable future had a lot going for it, but one trait I absolutely despise in fictional characters is insecurity that makes it everybody else’s problem (I mean I hate it in people, too). By this I mean, the girlfriend who cannot tolerate her boyfriend having other friends who are girls, and whining to him about it. The partner who still wonders if their lover loves them, with zero evidence to the contrary, constantly forcing a tiring debate to sate these unfounded claims.

The thing is. Real people are like this.

But the other thing is: Fiction is meant to entertain.

It’s never the insecurity that I have issue with (I am not immune to it myself) it’s the impact that insecurity has on the story. If this protagonist had quietly kept it to herself but allowed the rest of the story to move forward, and dealt with it, if not alone, but in some progressive or even regressive manner, just not stagnant, it might’ve been okay.

So the scene that would have had me DNF immediately if this had been an organic read was these two adult middle-aged characters. Stalker plotline. The boyfriend is a has-been. The girlfriend, protagonist, has already had many a bout of insecure nonsense (oh he thinks I’m ugly as he’s railing me against my dresser) but the breaking point is when she’s sent an explicit photo of him when he was younger, mid-sex with some model.

And this lady is absolutely crushed. The revelation that… this is a person who has had sex before… is somehow shocking. Like, this character seemed to desire a 50-year-old virgin who is also an adonis. The whole time I’m reading her only care about her own feelings, when I’m thinking “do you not give a single fuck about how your boyfriend feels seeing himself so exposed, a picture floating around on the internet at anyone’s mercy? How he feels to be reminded of this moment and manipulated, too?”

I’m sure I’m in the vast minority who cannot stand these types of characters, but I would have quit the book right then and there. The book was also a who-dun-it, meaning any character could be a suspect, including the boyfriend. So we’re sitting here with multiple red herrings while the protagonist ignores all of them to whine about how the man’s unbridled and unflinching love and adoration for her just isn’t enough.

Bitch then be single if you can’t handle the knowledge that your 50-year-old celebrity boyfriend got around when he was younger. You knew what you were getting into. Which was my sticking point—it wasn’t like this was a shocking twist reveal. She knew from the moment they met that he was a bit of a player. It would be wholly different if he’d led her to believe that he’s some devout celibate saving himself for her.

Is this entertaining to other people? It’s not to me.

Separating it from the actual insecurity for a second: When you force your character to go around in circles in their arc and development, no matter what that arc and development is, you have stagnated the plot and each time they meet the same pitfall, they make the exact same choices that keep them in this loop.

None of this insecurity subplot amounted to anything. She eventually got over it after one arbitrary conversation but she didn’t change as a person, it didn’t do anything for the story, it was just there, probably an outlet for the author to exercise her own demons.

But this is a story and I am not entertained and your author insert is subject to the same scrutiny as everyone else.

So.

What *I think* are compelling ways to write insecure characters. Because I wrote one. My protagonist in ENNS.

You can and should absolutely write for yourself. Just always remember that if you only write for yourself, you can’t expect everyone else to like it, and you can’t get mad when they don’t. They are not you and they don’t have your tastes.

Have the insecurity be part of their arc with movement, either forward or backward, so they don’t become a static and boring character

Give them some evidence, any evidence, to support this insecurity. Maybe their love interest really does have an issue with some physical trait. Or in the past they really have been bullied or mocked for it. Anything so that this character’s fears have merit and can become tragic and relatable instead of unfounded and annoying.

Have this character take actions to augment this insecurity or cover it up, so that they’re not going “ugh I’m so ugly… but I’m not doing anything about it it’s just here”. Like wearing oversized clothes, keeping their hair in their face, speaking softly or not smiling with teeth—whatever it is, give them some agency in this fear. This is still a character trait and internal conflict, therefore it needs some actual conflict. Inaction is unappealing.

Balance out the negativity with something more compelling. They might be insecure but they’re really skilled at this one thing, or they’re really funny or kind or smart, so the audience has something else to root for instead of just a character who is negative and self-deprecating for the entire story.

Show that though experience proves this insecurity garnered them mistreatment, this current person they’re trying to impress really doesn’t care one bit about it, and don’t make it the other character’s problem. You can still have the protagonist wary and skeptical that the comments haven’t started, but let them do so quietly instead of cornering the friend/love interest with zero evidence to demand attention when said friend/love interest has done absolutely nothing wrong.

Like. If this was a murder mystery, and you had a character who, with zero proof, started suspecting Character E, and didn’t even look at A-D, despite all the mounting evidence that E is innocent, Protagonist is just fixating and projecting and stuck in their own head, would that be entertaining? You’re reading a murder mystery to live vicariously through the hero and use their smarts and observation skills to try and solve it yourself. You’re not here to watch them harass E until they admit to guilt for a crime they didn’t commit just to make it stop.

If that is a story you want to read, the summary would make that quite clear up front, or at least the first two chapters before you get invested. If I’m sold a murder mystery, by god, I’m going to expect a murder mystery.

Something I see a lot in inexperienced authors (or those who think “writing is easy, if it’s hard for you, you just suck”) is making characters too realistic. If you want to write a full-blown transcript of a conversation, false-starts and stutters and nonsensical grammar and half-finished points, be my guest, but fiction is supposed to be a little cleaned up. Details in fictional stories should be written with intent.

Not every single one. Sometimes a character’s eyes are green because I have too many with brown. It’s not that deep.

But bigger things, like a character’s personality and motives, should all serve the greater narrative. What does their insecurity say about them? How does it impact the choices they make and how they see the world? Is this something they grow out of or a trait that dooms them as a self-fulfilling prophecy?

The lesson doesn’t always have to be “you’re beautiful just the way you are”. It can be a nightmarish regression. Whatever it is, just tell a story with it, otherwise, why is it here?

[keelt9]

Chapter 2

Masterlist

Mom keeps talking about how happy she is that we finally spend time together after so many years, just like the old times.

She grabs my face. “Now the 9 years of difference are almost imperceptible.” 

“Mom! I don't look that old!” Lewis choked with his fruit.

“You wish you looked like this at my age.” He sat straight. I was about to speak but mom interrupted us. 

“Keep eating, keep eating.”

This week I'll be at our parents house, so Lewis can have a few days off from me.

A Wednesday night mom entered the kitchen where Jewel keeps at my side.

“How is the project going?” I'm buried in papers, madeleines and tea.

I scoff and take my glasses. “Good? I don't know, I never imagined this amount of responsibility.” 

Mom serves a cup of tea, and sits next to me.  “He said you're doing pretty well.” I scoff and watch the papers and empty pens, picking up all the things so we can talk calmly. 

“Next is?” I pat Jewel and gave her a piece of carrot which reject at the second bite. Lewis and his idea about trying to become her vegetarian, it's useless.

“Miami.”

I’m melting like ice, if I thought the first day we arrived was hot I was clearly short about how hot the day of the race is.

“How much weight will he lose?” I asked the doctor who weighs Lewis and George.

“Between 4 or 5 kilos.” I opened my eyes. “Maybe 6.”

“SIX?! Oh my word!” Lewis laughed and set properly his race suit one more time. “Drive safe, all right?” He nods and kisses my cheek.

I walk to the hospitality area, 50 minutes until the race begins although I see Checo chatting with Yuki, a casual talk in the way both are laughing. This time Red Bull is in front of Mclaren and Mercedes next to them. 

Checo saw me and waved his hand, so I walked closer to greet him properly.

“Hi. Yuki have you met Y/N?” Yuki made a small bow and I did the same. “She is Lewis sister.” 

Yuki opened his eyes, like he just knew a big secret.

“How are you?” Checo asks me, I move my hand trying to have a fresh breeze of air.

“Melting, but I'm fine.” Both giggle.  

Yuki is the first young driver I officially met, beside George of course. “It's your first time in the paddock?”

Checo saw me with pressed lips. “Kind of.” It’s a half honest answer. “I'm dying to be in Japan, that definitely will be my first time.”

Yuki smiles as we get involved in a deep talk about food and places I should visit in the few days we'll be there.

“It’s hot, definitely hot.” We turn around and see Max walking right to us. “Morning Yuki, Y/N.” 

I don't want to be rude with Yuki so I cut the conversation as friendly as I can. “I count on you for that, all right?” 

Yuki nodded and I said goodbye to them bumping fists with Checo.

“What did I say this time?” Max says it almost right to my face. Checo laughs and pat his teammate back.

“You’re on the darkside, mate.” Max bluffs but raises his voice as I walk away.

“FINE! IT DOESN'T MATTER!” I roll my eyes when I enter the hospitality building. 

A tricky race, Lewis fought until the last lap but just reached the sixth position. It hasn't been his weeks and he knows it by the way he goes down this car and walks slowly to the garage.

This time I took a risk and waited for him at the back of the garage, even here I could hear the noise of camera shots, reporters and all the talks from the mechanics.

Lewis was surprised I was there. “Hey.” I smile and give him a small push, making just the faith of a smile appear on his face. 

“You get back, don’t pressure yourself too much.” He just nods and keeps walking to change his clothes, definitely mad about his performance.

By the time we arrived at the hotel Lewis put on his best facade during the day and tried to fool us but the one who knew him, saw something was going on.

“What do you want for dinner?” He asked me as we left the paddock.

“Actually, I prefer rest, tomorrow I have an early flight and I still have things to work on.” I’m hungry but I know he always chooses to make me company when actually he's dying from a proper rest.

Lewis is about to complain but I grab his hand on the SUV. “It’s ok, I eat a lot in the hospitality and I always can order room service.” He laid back in the seat. “Just rest, all right?”

I don't lie, I kept working on some drawings until my stomach started to growl, but I needed fresh air, so I took my purse and phone and went out for dinner.

After a quick research online I found myself waiting on a food truck for a burrito and a lemonade, with the ocean at my back and a humid ambient.

“Here you have. Enjoy your food.” A young woman gave me my order, I thanked her sitting in one of the benches they have.

It’s a peaceful night of course with a Grand Prix this morning, you can hear from time to time chattings about the drivers, the race and the results.

“I'm telling you, it was insane!” A man is walking hand in hand with a girl, who is thrilled as him, for the way she makes little jumps and talks with her hands.

“It will be out of this world, be this close to a car.” She narrows the distance of her fingers.

I scoff as I clean my fingers after finishing my dinner, even in the most random place people agree with Max.

I go back walking to the hotel, just a 20 minute walk; I need to do the last adjustment before I leave. I was talking with the receptionist when loud laughs and mumblings distract me.

Carlos, Charles, Lando, George and Max enter the hotel making the few people still up late at night and staff members look at them.

“Miss?” The receptions remind me of what we were talking about. 

I asked her to please wake me up at 4 am, and disobey Lewis' order, they don’t wake him up. I take full responsibility for him not getting upset leaving a handwritten note. 

“Sorry.” I ended up writing the note and gave it to her. “Thank you so much.” The girl smiles at me before I take my phone and walk, seeing the photos of Nicola with the kids and Roscoe.

Until I almost hit my face with the floor of the lobby.

“Don’t worry, nothing is going to happen to you tonight.” I didn’t even notice the fast reaction of Max grabbing my left arm. 

The half twisted smile and the fact he's holding too to a chair, make me take my arm from his hand.

“I'm fine, thanks.” Max stares at Charles who has a red face almost like a tomato, sitting in the chair.

“Long legs, you almost make a girl fall, that's rude.” I refuse to get involved in this so I start to walk to the elevator.

“Wait, I'll take you to your room.” Max panicked and corrected himself. “To the door of your room, not inside of your room, at the frame of your door.”

I bluff, he's definitely drunk and the only one staying alone there; Charles, is talking with a girl who is coming for him. 

I want to leave him there, I truly want to, but the half closed eyes and the fact he believes he is the savior when I easily could get in trouble, makes me doubt.

I clicked the bottom for the elevator but he sits on the chair.

“Goodness gracious.” I whisper to myself before walking back and pull him to the elevator. 

He looks at me with his eyes as open as possible, still I didn't even say a word. 

The 10 floors seem eternal as the elevator goes up, I keep tipping the floor with my feet as it could make it go faster, getting distracted when I feel Max is sliding.

I complain internally about dad always teaching us help every time you can. I grabbed his arm and put it around me, at least he could lean on me. 

“Which one is your floor?” The smell of whisky is perceptible. 

“What? No, no, I'll take you. You're the one who almost got hurt.” I clicked my tongue; discussing with him is harder, now, being drunk could be a pain.

“Ok, at least you should tell me, just in case I need more help.” My words are pure irony.

He sighs and a rumble laugh comes out of him along with a. “Smart girl.” 

My giggle is an honest one. “Yes, I know.” 

When we reach the 12th floor Max keeps mumbling things about the race, the night and why he “thinks” he’s probably drunk. 

“Ok, which one is yours?” I practically dragged him out of the elevator begging no one else where in the hallway. 

He splits and leans on the wall. “No, no, no. You first.” He highcough, still I know I have to be patient.

“Why don’t we go to your room, calm and then you could leave on mine? If you throw up, at least I prefer to be in your room.” He scoffs but nods.

“Omg, Max?” I feel my blood turn cold when I hear another voice. “I thought you would say any drinks tonight.” A man runs to him and holding him avoids him crashing on the floor.

“It was the plan, just…” He plays with his fingers before grabbing the man shirt. “A few.” 

“Let’s go, I’ll take you to your room.” But Max splits and points to me.

“No, we almost made this young girl fall, I must leave her in her room safe.” Finally the man noticed my existence and smiled in an apologetic way.

“I’m sorry, but one of the girls called to the reception about Max making a scene in the lobby but when I arrived he was already gone.” The man extended his hand. “I’m Harry, teammate of Max.”

I take his hand. “Y/N Hamilton.” He blinked rapidly.

“Y/N Ham… Hamilton. Lewis sister?” He mumbled, still Max answered for me.

“His little sister, to be more clear.” Harry threw lethal eyes to him.

“You made Lewis little sister carry you up here in these conditions?” Max nods slowly and makes me smile. “Oh, right, I almost forgot, almost made her fall.”

“Fuck yeah.” Max answers and walks where I still was standing.

“No, no, let’s go Max, you need to lay down.” Harry tries to grab him but he already has his arm around my shoulders holding me tight. 

It’s obvious he won’t let go of his nonsense of leaving in my room. 

“Hey Max, let’s do what I propose, all right? Then you could leave in my room.” In his condition, as soon as he touches his bed he falls asleep. Harry watches us unsure however follows us until his room.

Inside I walked with him to his bed as Harry closed the door and ordered a strong coffee to his room. When we reached the border of his bed I carefully made him sit but he fell backwards and closed his eyes, like I predicted.

I was about to leave him when he spoke, turning to his left side. “Y/N, you’re pretty strong you know that?” 

His words left me surprised with a strange sensation of pride. Harry enters and apologizes one more time, saying he takes care of him.

“Thanks Y/N. Most of the people will leave him, making sure they win a good post on their feeds.” I nod before walking out of the room, this time after 20 minutes I arrive at my room.

By the time I was about to get in the plane, I received a text from Lewis complaining that I must wait for him to at least he take me to the airport but I calmed him down saying I take one of his boys to do that.

“Try to have fun, ok?” I keep reading his text before entering the house.

After my no-wedding I barely see my friends, I feel so ashamed and embarrassed even though there were just a few ones who used it all the “momentum” against me. This is the first time I came to a birthday party fully convinced.

“It's nice you came Y/N, thanks.” Thomas hugs me after I finally get the chance to talk to him, he’s the birthday boy.

“Oh my, look who’s here!” The voice of Hanna or I must say the scream makes Thomas sigh and I tense my whole body.

“I’m sorry but even if I tried, she always is in the wrong moment.” 

I take a deep breath before facing one more time my “best friend” who tactfully reminded me after and during 5 months of my broken heart.

“Go, I can deal with her.” Thomas is about to speak but it's his birthday, the last thing he needs is stress on his day. “I’m fine.” 

Thomas nods and walks away as Hanna comes closer, a drink in her hand and poison accumulation in her mouth.

“My girl, it’s been what? 9 or 10 months since we saw you?” Both of us know the last time she saw me it’s the day after my wedding. “And you barely reply to my texts.” 

“Yes, I've been kind of bussy.” I play with the ice of my drink to avoid making eye contact.

Hanna fake a compressive smile, predicting something she will say. “I can imagine after a failure like an almost wedding, there are a thousand things to do.” 

Even now she gets under my skin so easily.

“I sent you the invitation for my party but you didn't reply or anything like that.” She takes a sip of her drink.

“You know, it's the 21st century, when something is unwanted, hateful or something like that the mail goes right to the spam.” I turn around to see Mika challenge her.

Mika is a friend from the college who Hanna always told me it’s a witch, I guess it was her reflection in the mirror. 

“Mika, nice to see you.” Hanna said, trying to kill her with her eyes.

“I love to say the same but…” Mika eats his olive and smiles. “It’s stressful to see you.”

Hanna scoffs but I learn something about Mika all the months she helps me pack and making sure I barely see people who were enjoying seeing me that hurt, she doesn’t leave a prayer alive.

“But hey! Don’t worry, I’m not the only one who thinks the same here.” Hanna takes a deep breath before leaving us.

I take out all the air I’ve counted and smile at Mika. “Thanks.”

She smiles. “She’s been hunting you since she arrived, I was at the backyard with the food but Thomas gives heads up.” She takes the last sip of his martini. “Nevermind her, let’s party all night.”

I spent the night talking with friends, drinking and enjoying the night dancing, until the clock marked 2:37 am, and my legs screamed for rest. 

I say goodbye to everyone leaving Thomas and Mika at the end. “Thank you for inviting me.” I hug Thomas at his door. 

“Thanks for coming, hey, when you’re in town give us a call, any plan could come out.” He smiles at me.

“And if you need something for the refuge, we love to help.” Mika said, almost dragging her words.

I was about to get in the cap when unlucky Hanna realized I was about to leave. 

“Y/N make sure at least just pass another 4 months until we see you again.” The bloody wink makes my blood boil. 

The next morning I was received in the kitchen with an aspirin, and a black coffee.

“Long, funny night?” Dad smiles at me with a newspaper in his hands.

I cover my eyes with a napkin. “How can people do this every weekend?” 

Dad chuckles and I hear the slow but heavy steps in the wood floor along the gasp, Roscoe is coming.

“Hi, baby.” I carness his head as he closes his eyes. “Wait a little bit more and you’ll be with me.” 

After the race in Italy, I already talked with Lewis about taking Roscoe a week earlier before the race in Monaco, a little help and a needed backup for the team. 

“Me?” Dad asks standing to prepare the breakfast, I roll my eyes and clarify.

“Us, you’ll be with us.” I sat on the floor and gave a kiss to him. “Let’s keep a secret, I'm your favorite.” 

I arrived the night before the race, I had two visit schedules for seeing apartments and made it impossible for me to leave until the night; that’s why I don’t see my brother until early morning, indeed early morning.

“Morning.” I appeared at the restaurant of the hotel where he and Bottas were having breakfast before getting ready to go to the paddock.

“Oh, hi, I thought I’ll see you in the paddock.” I kiss his cheek before giving a hug to Bottas. 

“I’m hungry.” I joke as I sit with them, Bottas giggles and calls for the waitress.

“Something doesn't change.” We looked at him with curious eyes. “For winning something with his young lady, food is a shortcut.” 

Lewis laughs nodding incessantly. “I couldn't agree more.”

Arriving at the paddock when the drivers are doing the same, is total chaos, people, reporters and cameras all over the place, it’s like an obstacle race.

I walked to the Mercedes hospital next to Red Bull and in front of Ferrari, my eyes were stuck on my phone, when I felt someone soft touch.

I lift my eyes and I recognize the girl in front of me, the same that picked up Chalres. “Hi.”

“Hi, I’m Alexandra, Charles' girlfriend.” I nod, but don’t say another word. “I want to apologize for leaving you alone the other night.”

Oh I got it. “Oh, no worries, it’s ok.” I smile honestly as I put my hand on her arm.

“I hope someone went fast to help you, I tried to go back but Charles was a little bit of a troublemaker that night.” Well, at least I wasn’t the only one with that situation. 

I laughed and shook my head. “You’re the one who called to pick him?” Alexandra nods. “Thank you, and yeah, someone help me.”

“Great! I think I'm seeing you around right?” I realized I didn't introduce myself. 

“We could say that, I’m Lewis sister, Y/N.” She smiles but we were interrupted by Charles, who has an embarrassed expression.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry.” He giggles and covers his face with his hands. “I’m so embarrassed with you.” 

Alexandra giggles, it's obvious the love in her eyes. “When Alex told me what happened…” He sighs. “I’m sorry.”

I shake my head, containing the laugh. “It’s ok, don’t worry, I understand, great race.” 

“Max wasn't that drunk.” Alexandra plays with him, making him raise his eyebrow. “She’s in fact Lewis sister.” 

“Oh, he's definitely going to throw up this time.” Charles noticed the confusion on my face. “When Aelx told us what happened, Max said he had blurry memories of you helping him but we thought it’s the hangover, clearly it’s not.”

“Talking about the king of Rome.” Alexndra points to Max who’s coming out of Red Bull hospitality. 

When I turn around I see a red Max walking… dragging his feets to us, the blue t-shirt just makes the redness intensify.

“Am, Y/N?” Rosa calls me to appear at the door. “Your brother is looking for you.” I nod but the fact I don’t move makes her say one more thing. “Like, now.”

I open my eyes and before Max reaches us I apologize to them and wish Charles a good race, running inside as she holds the door for me.

“Making friends?” She smiles at me as I walk inside and put an arm around me.

[junkissed]

stoner!svt

their favorite forms of weed + random stoner thoughts

member — svt ot13 x reader genre — headcanons, humor word count — 1.0k warnings — descriptions of marijuana and smoking. there isn't anything explicit or suggestive in this, but my blog is 18+ so minors dni. but whether you're a minor or not, please do not take advice about drugs from strangers on the internet,, i am so unqualified and this is just a reflection of my own experiences so don't take anything here as fact. always use responsibly! notes — huge thanks to @wooahaeproductions @highvern and @gyuwoncheol for brainstorming this with me !! as tumblr's resident stoner huihui i have many more thots about stoner!svt so feel free to stop by my inbox with your ideas to chat 👀

one reblog = one joint hand rolled for you by minghao himself

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁

seungcheol: dab pen

big bulky man requires a big bulky pen. it hits harder and feels way more intense so he doesn’t care that it’s harder to clean. he also has a dab rig and he thinks it makes him cool and different because he and vernon are the only ones who actually know how to use it

jeonghan: weird shaped bong

he has to be Extra at all times so he has a surprising variety of odd shapes. the tentacle one on his dresser is his most interesting one for sure, but the one shaped like an arcade game machine with actual flashing lights is his favorite. he’s the king of princess treatment so he definitely makes everyone else light his bongs for him; why would he do it himself when there’s a perfectly good coups sitting right there?

joshua: fruity disposable thc pens

he’s made it his life mission to try every flavor once. los angeles is like the vape capital of the world so there is definitely no shortage of flavors for him to try. someone please pack him a normal regular unflavored bowl before all his clothes permanently smell like strawberry ice. he thinks he’s subtle but you can literally smell him a mile away, his scent enters the room before he does

junhui: literally anything

willing to take whatever you’re willing to give: you put any kind of weed in front of him and he’s gonna try it. he really doesn’t have a preference for what form it’s in, as long as he gets to do it with you <3 i can also see him trying edibles in different forms than the usual kinds, like the ones that come in a can like soda or a bag of chips. it’s hard to tell when he’s high because he’s the same amount of giggly as he always is, it’s like a 50/50 chance of whether he’s stoned or just silly

soonyoung: preroll joints

he tries so hard it’s kind of sad but also so funny. he takes one hit and coughs like he's been chainsmoking cigarettes for the last 40 years, then gets tired after 10 minutes and lays facedown on the floor until he falls asleep. he’s not invited to smoke with you anymore because he spills the bong water every single time without fail. he becomes the most giggly and cuddly person you’ve ever seen in your life; imagine drunk hosh, times ten. he sets up his tiger plushies in a circle and passes the joint around like he’s a 4 year old girl having a tea party. he starts crying if one of them feels left out so he has to count and make sure they all get an equal number of hits

jihoon: normal shaped bong

locks himself in and hotboxes the studio. he mostly does it to get out of his own head and chill alone for a while, so don’t even think about interrupting him. he’ll emerge from a cloud of smoke a couple of hours later with 2 new albums, god of light music: the sequel, and a solo for hoshi. he doesn’t let the other members touch his stuff or even know where he hides it

wonwoo: normal shaped bong (dirty)

i hate to play into the dirty gamer boy stereotype that he’s always written as… but he 100% never cleans it. it’s always byob (bring your own bong) when he invites you over because he may be with fine smoking a crusty bowl, but not everyone feels that way sorry dude

minghao: hand-rolled joints

he doesn’t trust anyone to roll but himself. he has fancy expensive organic papers that he got from an exclusive farmer's market and he treats it like an art form but honestly it hits way better when he does it so you don’t question his technique. a hand rolled joint from minghao is like a gift from god

mingyu: homemade edibles

vernon gave him a homemade rice krispie once and he swore it wasn’t hitting so he ate another one... and then passed out on the couch. after vernon gave him the recipe, mr. professional chef here decided he likes to bake them himself but somehow always ends up measuring it wrong and makes them way too strong. on accident or on purpose? we may never know. most likely both. he gets so high he can’t even stand up straight, most giggly and cuddly person you’ve ever seen #2

seokmin: cbd gummies

he takes them to relax or to help him fall asleep rather than to get super high. but he still wanted to feel included with the members who smoke so he tried to buy a cart one time but he bought a melatonin pen on accident instead and they never let him live that down

seungkwan: normal shaped bong (clean)

he takes good care of his stuff and he’s serious about it! he had a bad experience with mold once and now he’s paranoid about remembering to change the bong water. he cleans it daily and keeps everything nice and organized, and he has a bedazzled grinder because if he’s gonna smoke then he’s gonna do it in style obviously

vernon: also literally anything

he’s honestly down for whatever. he prefers smoking over edibles but he doesn’t care if it’s a joint, a pen, a bong. also depends on his mood but the majority of the time it’s whatever is the closest within reach and requires the least amount of effort

chan: 4ft tall bong

how? why does he have that? where did he get it? huh? those are all questions he doesn’t have the answers to either. it’s more of a mascot than anything; it sits in the corner of his living room like a lamp and he doesn’t even use it. he uses a regular bong the majority of the time but only because he’s afraid of breaking the sacred Tall Bong. it’s a big hit at parties

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if this made you laugh, consider leaving a reblog! i'd love to hear your thoughts :) feedback shows me that this is something people want to see more of, and knowing people like this makes me want to write more of it! thanks for reading!!

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[mimobombs]

SONIC 3 THEORY; SHADOW WAS MADE ON EARTH

After rewatching the trailer over and over and overanalyzing every screenshot. I think I have a fair assumption that Shadow was not made on the Ark. In fact, I doubt the Ark existed in the Movie universe until Sonic's time.

Crazy theory time is a go,

Why do I think Shadow was made on Earth?

1. Trailer backgrounds.

We see three scenes with Shadow's test tube. One where it stands intact, and two where it is seen broken. In the scene where its intact, its harder to tell where its located, with just machinery and darkness as a backdrop. Which easily could have mislead us to thinking this is the Ark.

But when its the broken one scenes, we can see first in its reflection what looks like an old railing. Its is very faint in my screenshots but if you give it a look on bigger screens its a bit more visible.

The railing is more fitting of a 70s house railing than a space station's. Unless Gerald made his quarters look like a house, a possibility.

But. In the second scene where Shadow punches forward, this very same broken test tube is seen, and the lightsource is now clear to us. Its a hole in the background wall. This hole is clearly either damage from a fight, or a natural collapse. But whats for sure is that the location is on earth, as overgrowth can be seen through the debris and around the broken wall.

Now this can be bounced back as maybe a secondary location to hold Shadow to have further testing when Gerald was contained and brought back to earth. But. We also have to think of another detail.

2. The Era

Gerald's story is set 50 years ago on our earth, our world. Gerald was not a roboticist, but more a biological scientist, and in that era, they had very rudimental space exploration shuttles, like the Apollo missions. I highly doubt a ship the size of the Ark was made during that time, and that the military had advanced enough ships to raid said Ark and return to earth without a risk. We could say the same with the technology used to create Shadow being way too advanved for its era, which honestly is true.

To me the interesting part is the Ark seems to have been contained in a G.U.N stronghold, as we see what I assume is the Ark emerge from the waters in London.

As far as we know, G.U.N was only created recently, as the second movie indicates, so they couldn't have been in possession of such a gigantic asset for a long time. Unless the military was the one in possession of it and transfered to G.U.N when they were wipping their database from Robotnik's info. Maybe it was found after? Maybe Eggman made it? Wtf's it doing in LONDON? Changing its location alone would be impossible for how big it is... Many ideas could explain this but my theories have nothing solid for the small bits of content shown...

But either or, the last piece of proof I have is.

3. Maria's death scene

Not much is seen in that one shot, but it speaks for a lot.

In this scene, clearly the area has been raided, there is military, but the background also has hint details for us. We can see a flipped over car in the corner. There is also possibly a military car/jeep seen in the other corner burning. They may be in an underground area long enough to use cars, like a tunnel? Part of a military base? Sadly the amount of smoke doesnt make it easy to figure out whats behind them, and even whats on the ground. Though i just feel like it doesnt really look like the Ark to me.

With that in mind we also have to remember that this is not a note for note retelling of SA 2. Clearly something like the Ark will appear as seen behind Tails in that one shot.

But I theorize it was made later. Gerald, if alive or not, is seen with Eggman tech in his old home, probably for research purposes to better understand his grandson's mechanical genius, and maybe to recruit him to build or perfect the Ark project? Clearly in this scene Eggman seems surprised to see his tech there...

About Gerald, its hard to know if he is truly alive or not. To me two options are possible. Either Eggman is hallucinating tf out after either being knocked out or something of the like, meeting his grandfather and it goes into a spiral of insanity.

Or.

Gerald completed his research that he had first aimed for with the existence of Project Shadow. Immortality. the detail that makes me wonder if we will go that path, is during Maria's death scene, Gerald looks the same age as when he's seen interacting with Eggman. His white mustache and body stance is exactly the same, and we would have expected a lot more wrinkles and showing bones if the man was almost 130 years old.

Another detail into question;

If Shadow was made on Earth, what kind of sickness does Maria have? An interesting detail I did notice from all the shots that clearly belong to Gerald's home, is that its absolutely dark. No windows are seen, and the type of debris and breaks seen on the walls feel like it was made of concrete. Which makes me think that possibly, his home was a bunker. Hidden in the alps somewhere, so he could work on his research in secret, but also keep Maria safe.

An interesting twist for her character to not have experienced earth, would be if she had a type of illness that renders her Immuno-compromised to the point of it being fatal, or maybe a reaction so intense to the sun or even simply the air up on the surface being dangerous for her. She could only dream of the world outside as she is not allowed to leave the bunker to see it. It would bring a similar narrative to her and Shadow watching the earth from space!

Anyways I digress, I don't claim anything I've said to be solid truth. Ive just been digging the trailer and turning it in my brain in every possible direction that I had to post my ramblings somewhere, or else I would have gone insane. This will eat at me for the next months until the release, or a more detailed preview is posted. Enjoy the brainworms yippeeeee ♡♡♡

Also please if you have seen bits and pieces of the leaked unfinished cut please dont tell me about it Ive ran into 4 different mini spoilers and I'm still mad about it :)))

[ofsappho]

HOW BADLY DO *YOU* WANT A HEARTLESS UPDATE?

Because I’ve got one that I’m working on…. BUT

(Inspired by @cuckoo-on-a-string )

I want to make art that helps do good. I want my fic to be a haven for the underrepresented, the marginalized, fat people, queer people, disabled people, people of color.

But making art isn’t enough. So I offer a proposition: I will complete and post this chapter of Heartless IF AND ONLY IF Heartless readers collectively donate FIFTY ($50) USD to this gofundme for my friend Lina

Lina is an incredibly brave and strong young woman. She’s a 25 year old woman from Gaza and a new mother. I first got to know Lina when I started donating and boosting the gofundme she made when she was NINE MONTHS PREGNANT to help evacuate her and her husband to Egypt, so she could safely deliver her son Omar.

Remember that miscarriages are up over 300% in Gaza. Remember that tens of thousands of babies, some born and some still in their mothers’ wombs, have been bombed, starved to death, torn into pieces, died from illness, all because of the illegal Israeli occupation and genocide against Palestinians.

We refused to let Lina and her son Omar and her husband Yousef become another family exterminated by Israel. We raised enough money for Lina and her husband to get through the Rafah Crossing into Egypt, where Lina had Omar in a hospital, with anesthesia, antibiotics, doctors tending to her. Not a tent in a bombed refugee camp with no food, water, or medicine.

Now Lina is raising money to help get her family out of Gaza, along with the money necessary to help sustain her and her husband + son’s life in Egypt. Her brother is a heroic paramedic who helped saved countless Gazan lives in the past months of the genocide until he was too injured to help any longer.

I myself have already donated a lot of money towards her cause (I mean in the hundreds). But I can do more and we can do more. If even TEN Heartless readers give $5 USD, we’ll have hit the goal and I will update AS SOON AS HUMANLY POSSIBLE.

How does this work? Send me proof that you’ve donated (whatever amount you can) via my ask inbox or my direct messages, I will reblog this post to let everyone know how close we are to our goal + check with Lina to make sure she’s got the donations, and that’s it! Easy peasy.

Every dollar counts. You can also share her gofundme with YOUR friends and family, ask them to donate. If they do, send me the same proof and I’ll count it towards our goal!!!

Through collective people power, we saved Omar. He and Lina would’ve died in Gaza if Lina had to give birth there. He is an innocent baby boy who has the right to grow up in a peaceful, loving, healthy environment with his family. He deserves that.

Please only give what you are able to. If you can’t give anything, share Lina’s gofundme with anyone who can give. Help us save Lina’s family and give baby Omar the chance to grow up, and get some fic out of it.

[writingquestionsanswered]

Hey! I was just wondering if you have any ideas of how I can display the fact that a character has aged (not necessarily from adult to elder but just in general) without describing appearance. I’ve tried searching it up but they never really want into detail or they simply advised on changing the character slightly as in giving them old fashioned hobbies. I’m sorry if this has already been answered or does not simply have a direct way and must be decided by the author. Again I am very sorry if this has already been asked I really don’t mind if you either direct me to the answer or copy and paste it if so :)

Showing a Character Has Aged

When it comes to illustrating that someone has aged, you basically have four choices: describe physical characteristics that illustrate age, describe physical activities that illustrate age, indicate the passage of time, flat-out state that the character has aged.

The problem is that aging isn't a wildly specific thing. People don't take on certain physical characteristics, appearance, or activities at exactly the same age. While there are certainly some activities and behaviors that are broadly specific to age categories, age is not accurately defined by behavior, thought process, personality, etc.

If I say, "The last time I'd seen my nephew he was barely crawling, and now he was not just walking, but climbing on everything..." that's a pretty good indicator that this child has aged. But how much? Because babies don't all learn to crawl at the exact same age, or learn to walk at the exact same age for that matter. Some babies skip crawling and go straight to walking. Other babies seem like they'll never go from crawling to walking and suddenly do. This child could be two weeks older than last time or two years older. It isn't clear at all.

Complicating things is the fact that physical appearance is also not a good indicator of age. I mean... as I've pointed out in the past, Paul. Rudd:

Carrol O'Connor (on the left) is the same age in that photo as Paul Rudd is in the photo on the right (both are early 50s here). And while things like hairstyle and fashion do have an impact on how we view someone's age, some people just get wrinkles/gray hair/gain weight/lose muscle tone sooner or later than others.

And, the advice to "give them old-fashioned hobbies" is terrible. "Old-fashioned hobbies"? What, like candle-making and churning butter? What does that even mean? Maybe these people view hobbies like knitting, stamp collecting, and wood-working as "old-fashioned," but I guarantee those are hobbies that are broadly enjoyed by young people to this day.

If I write, "She sat on the couch lovingly knitting a sweater," that tells me nothing about her actual age because:

And, again, the woman on the left could be sixteen or thirty-five, and the woman on the right could be sixty-two or eighty-six.

So, outside of flat out stating that a character has aged, your best bet is to use a combination of these methods to get the point across...

"It had been over ten years since I last saw Mr. Smith. At the time, he'd recently returned from hiking in the Alps. Now he was hunched over a walker, his formerly salt-and-pepper hair now stark white. The deep grooves that had once made his face look handsome and worldly now made him look wizened and tired."

Between stating the amount of time that has passed (over ten years), physical activities (hunched over a walker vs hiking in the alps), and physical appearance (white hair and tired wrinkles vs salt-and-pepper hair and handsome lines), it is very clear that Mr. Smith has aged quite a bit in the decade since the POV character last saw them.

I hope that helps!

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[hazbinhazbinhazbinreblog]

The other Overlords might have found a solution.

Vox wants to try it right away, but he's not the only guest in this universe.

“We need your Alastor,” Carmilla reminds him sternly.

Alastor still isn't back, and Vox has hit a snag in his work. Contrary to what he told the deer demon, Vox does need his expertise with radio waves and magic to finish it.

Vox sighs. He's been sifting through his memory banks all the way back to the 50s when he arrived in Hell. He can't stop thinking about what Alastor said to him the other day during his episode of anger. He's watched so many old memories of just him and Alastor. It hurts more than he expected it to. He's really tired. “Yeah, okay. Just give me a second.”

He closes his eyes and casts out radio waves. It's been a while since he's tried to find Alastor using just his—their frequency.

To the side, he senses how his other self and the Other Alastor watch him curiously. They can feel what he's doing.

He ignores it. His Alastor is more important.

He shuffles rapidly through the signals in the air and discards the ones that aren't Alastor's.

No.

Nope.

Not that one.

No.

Absolutely not.

There.

…

He's still mad.

Vox sighs again and opens his eyes. “Uh. I might be a while. He's still mad at me. I'll try to calm him down.”

He takes a step towards the corner and melts into the shadows the way Alastor taught him so many years ago, ignoring the exclamations of surprise and shock behind him as the darkness wraps around him like an old friend, much like how it did for Alastor.

In a way it is. It's one thing he and Alastor share, with Alastor introducing him to it once Vox recovered from his fall back then.

Vox feels conflicted knowing that Alastor still keeps the shadows open for him to use. That's a major amount of trust that he really shouldn't give Vox. But at the same time it makes him feel warm inside.

The shadows take him to the edge of the city, where he sees Alastor sitting on some rubble, facing away from him.

Vox approaches him silently and sits next to him.

Neither of them say anything.

In a funny way, silence is easier than talking for the two performers.

There's no tension in the air, just grief sadness.

"My biggest mistake is falling in love with you," Alastor says suddenly, breaking the silence. "I had gone on for so long without opening myself up to anyone even before I ended up in Hell. And then you came along."

Vox feels guilty at that admission. "Al, if there's anything I can do to make it up to you…"

Alastor chuckles and shakes his head. "You didn't let me finish. My mistake is loving you. Even if I walked away my heart wouldn't let me get far. But I can't bring myself to regret it. Even after all this time I still love you."

Alastor turns to face him fully, and Vox freezes.

Alastor is crying.

He's not smiling, he's holding back his grief, and Vox feels a sharper stab of guilt.

"Oh, Alastor…" Vox wraps his arms around the other sinner. "Al, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"I hate you," Alastor sobs, "I hate you. I hate you I hate you I hate you! I hate that I still love you…"

Vox says nothing. Instead he hugs his Alastor tighter. He'll stay like this for as long as Alastor needs him to. It's not the same as before, but it's a hopeful start.

"His- their frequency" screaming crying throwing up I'm on the fucking floor and the leaving the shadows open for him I'm so.

Perfect and devastating as usual so bittersweet at the end but I love it

Someone made fanart for this!

[lonelyspacedragon]

The one and olny thing I will say about this

as a brasileiro let me just give some context on some things

thoses jokes? yeah they were/are pretty lets say "normalisate" here, yes they are disgusting and horrible yes, but they are also very very common

FOR FUCK SAKE OUR SONGS HAVE "novinha" in them thats a way to say young girl, like 15 years young, in a sexual way, its disgusting YES, yes it is, but is so fucking common its almost normal, we have 14 years old boys singing, as in they’are singers sell music and stuff, about sex in a very heavy way

Lissen, my uncle he is like 50 something he has a daughter, (I didn't know this thill this christmas) and he was telling me about her, how she is so hot, and tall and when he goes out with her all the men (and he means men old men 30 something old men) keeps salivating over her and he is all like hey ehat u looking at, in a don't even think of getting close to her but also in a yeah thats my daughter she is hot, and I was like okay, I was envisioning a 18-20 years old by the way he was talking about her, and then he said SHE IS 11, ELEVEN YEARS OLD, I was in shock. It unfortunately is a very very common way of seeing and treating young girls, specially if they are "already all developed"

we have a culture of sexualising young kids, for fuck sake, we had a master chef kids here, one time and one time only, in 2015, and it was disgusting, the amount of men, commenting disgusting things about one of the participants that was 13 I think, and it was so fucking disgusting and bad that we didnt had another one till 2022, exclusively because of those behaviour, we grow up in a disgusting culture of sexualising kids and young teens

to be honest, it was shocking to me when I started accompanying Cellbit and Felps again after so so many years, to see that they are leftist

its a shock because I wasn't expecting that, because I watched those people when I was young and they were too and they said some shitty stuff back there

and yes he had already talked about wanting to delete his old tweets when people wanted to take Pierre out of the qsmp because of old tweets of his and cultural differences, he said the person he was years ago is not who he is now, he said himself that he wasn't happy with his old views on women and politics and lgbt people stuff like that when the stuff with Pierre happened,

He deleted 900 tweets, but did you guys stop to think about it? Would 900 tweets be all about making sexual jokes about minors? And no one would have seen those 900 tweets of him being creepy towards kids?

Or are these 900 tweets also his old views on politics, queer people, feminism? Thinks he had already said he wanted and was deleting because of stuff like this?

lissen almost everyone that is 23+ right now was banging pans for what was basically a coup in ixi 2014 i think? when Dilma was in power and they impcheamented (i don't know how to write this shit in portugues I don't know how in english either) her over something that they(the politicians that wanted her gone - right wingers) made legal a month later, and now those same people are leftists

so yes those are shitty jokes yes, those are shitty views yes, they are, but they are also from 8 years ago, he already said stuff about that, about how his views had changed, and how he was scared that people would do exactly this, get his old tweets and use it to cancel and judge him for it, for views that he no longer has

just think people, does this say anything about who he is now? does he still do this kind of jokes? say those types of things?

if you guys go after all of the qsmp members old tweets and content, I'm sorry to disappoint you but all of them will have things that people will want to cancel them over, if you have to go dig more than one year to find bad things to cancel people over, its that not indicativii that that person no longer thinks like that? that thats no longer who they are now?

Does your tweets from 8 years ago reflects who you are now?

does all of this means you have to forgive him, ignore, watch his stuff, interact with his content? fuck no, do whatever you like and feels better for you, but also have some critical sense for fuck sake

yes if he did something he deserves to be held accountable for it, and if is something worth of being in jail he should be, if he did something criminal he should be dealt with it with the justice, deplataforming him will do jack shit if he did something thing and still walks free, what will this have accomplished?

but if its just old tweets, old jokes, bad jokes at that, but still old, old views that unfortunately are ingrained with cultural context, and that that person no longer has and no longer behaves like and believes they no longer hold, lets just calm the fuck down please

all this to say people change, lets calm down, and wait to see what will happen

[dribs-and-drabbles]

Rose's Day of Asks - the sequel

Hi!!! So this was always a curiosity of mine. How did you get started with the the thai communal wardrobe? And how many are on the list at the moment?

Have a wonderful night. Rose💛

Rose! I'm so honoured that you sent me this on your Day of Asks - the sequel!

How did I get started with the thai communal wardrobe? And how many are on the list at the moment?

The short answers?

I liked noticing the shared clothing across series and wanted to a) collect them (ie document them by writing a list) and b) post about them in a consistent format.

Approximately 230 (!).

And the long answers:

I think it was about this time last year, or maybe a bit earlier, when I first started documenting the shared clothing across different series. I had been noticing several items of shared clothing for a while but I think the desire to document them stemmed from the stripy linin shirt having appeared in so many shows in such a short period of time. Other notable items included the yellow-soled shoes, this stripy t-shirt, and this polo shirt.

I wanted to post them in a consistent way (ie the format I currently use, with the header and then sub-headings of each show in chronological order), which meant I needed to write them down in a list to make sure I had all the info correct. At first, I just used a word document but after a few months switched to a spreadsheet because it made it easier to set out and find the information.

I started with the ones I already knew but decided to scan through a lot of shows to see if I could find some more. I think this took the total to around 45 items of clothing, so I decided to do the BL Advent last December as a way to post them all. However, in preparing for that I went from 45 to 90.

As new series came out, and as I kept scanning through old series, by the end of March this year the total had risen to 126 and I put it to a vote as to how to continue posting the rest - the consensus being that I should go chronologically down through my list. Which is what I've been doing since then. I queued up a lot of posts, had a little break during the summer, but now I have more queued up.

Things got quieter over the end of spring and into summer and the list stayed around 150/160 for a couple of months. A few new ones did crop up over this time, like this new popular one (they're the same top just in different colours and with the pattern inverted on the grey/brown one):

But then Peaceful Property hit. And hit big.

At the same time, The Trainee went mad, and because I had noticed a few shirts from Last Twilight in both shows, I did another scan through of that and found A LOT of new ones. BUT ALSO, because of that, I realised I had seen this shirt recently and that led me to discover that Monster Next Door and Knock Knock Boys had a lot of shared clothing, and some of which they also share with Cooking Crush.

So I think since the end of August, I've added about 50 new items onto the list taking it up to around 230. Previous to hitting 200, I had thought I would make a post to mark it...but then I got swamped by all the new ones and I've been busy trying to document them all...to the point where I'm beginning to question my sanity over the amount of time I'm spending on doing all this!

Here's my current folder situation and which basically shows the list, although 80 of them don't currently have a number/place on the list because I'm waiting to finish collating all the new ones from Monster Next Door, Knock Knock Boys, and Cooking Crush:

Let's end on a few stats:

So far, 21 characters have worn the Mustard Sneakers brand yellow-soled shoes.

The items of clothing worn by most characters (11) are the stripy linin shirt and the stripy t-shirt (mentioned above) but the stripy t-shirt has been worn in more series (10 compared to the linin shirt's 6).

The show with the most items of shared clothing with another series is, of course, Only Friends with 64 (and counting!)...and even though I'm not sure this will ever be beaten, Peaceful Property might be able to if it keeps going the way it started.

The show with the next number of items is Last Twilight with 41.

The actors who have currently worn the most shared items of clothing are Sea (41), Book (31), and Gun (28).

[chimivx]

ghosting ↠ txt

now playing ↠ your needs, my needs • noah kahan

He left you with letters. Envelopes that took you five years to finally read, acknowledge. They take you back through your past, forcing you to make moves not only for yourself, but for your family, for your children… His children.

part two of six ~ masterlist

word count ↠ 1396 warnings ↠ (same for all parts) 18+. mentions of drugs, alcohol, smoking. swearing. explicit sexual content. these people have kids, there’s family talk, pregnancy talk. absent dad, messy family ties. stepsib shit, stepcest. infidelity. if any of these things bother you, please keep scrolling. if i missed anything PLEASE let me know!! a/n ↠ if you are new to this story, don't start here! please go to the masterlist! major thank you to everyone who's read this story. <3 xo posted ↠ 6/9/24 ~ 12:50 p.m. est

~ january 2020 ~

A melody of Christmas music played from the tv, a soft joyful sound in the background to fill the noise between the babies babbles. The holiday was just over a week ago, the movies should be retired, but your boys couldn’t get enough. They bounced on their bottoms and giggled whenever the music would start all over again.

“Think I’m going to be singing Jingle Bells for the rest of my life,” Soobin said, his warm voice comforting you just as his arms around your shoulders as he settled on the couch behind you. 

Cross legged you sat on the floor, keeping a watchful eye over your twins, Chan biting on the colorful blocks sprawled everywhere while Sunoo crawled around on the carpet exploring his favorite space in the house. 

They were a year and almost three months old, having celebrated their birthdays back in October right here in their home. Your entire family showed up, Joy and Jin popping in an hour earlier than expected with piles of wrapped boxes in their arms for your boys to open later. Later finding out they were boxes of clothes and shoes, specially ordered from a designer Joy was currently hyper fixated on, along with a check in the card for an amount of money you and Soobin positively could not accept, and a promise to redo the boys bedrooms as they grew older.

The clothes were nice, as were the shoes. You’re sure Sana accepted these kinds of gifts when her baby’s were turning a year old, but your boys simply wouldn’t last. They’d get all but one use out of each outfit with how careful one needed to be with the fabrics. You were raising twin boys, twin boys that were just learning to stand and still needed assistance with eating. Blow outs were still a common occurrence, both you and Soobin were tossing out multiple onesies weekly.

Both Chan and Sunoo hated shoes. Hated them. Once they were slipped on, they were kicked off. Soobin began keeping track of when the boys did it, when they were frustrated by sensory things, even though they were only a year old. Both of them, to a certain degree, were already showing signs of sensory distress.

Important things to pay attention to, Soobin had told you one night after a day of fighting with the little ones to put any kinds of clothes on.

He reminded you that they were still babies on top of everything else that flooded your brain, leaving you in equal distress. Somehow his words relieved you for the time being.

About a week ago, Christmas Day, your mother and step father insisted on the stacks of presents you and Soobin’s disapproving eyes fell upon. Many of the gifts weren’t even for your twins, but for the two of you, and they were unseriously backhanded.

A brand new toaster the two of you couldn’t even begin to afford, to replace that old thing you’ve had since college, Soobin! A blender, an ice maker, an air fryer, a whole new set of silverware… All things you and your husband didn’t want. Things you didn’t need.

Things you accepted with grace, and gratitude. Though you joked a few times about selling them online to add to the boys bank accounts. As much as you appreciated the gifts, helping with the boys' futures was ideal, and something you’ve mentioned. Many times. Soobins mother was the only one to listen, and she could barely afford to do so herself.

Taehyun and Sana didn’t come around for Christmas, they spent it down at their home in Avida. Sana’s parents and apparently many members of her family spent it there with the family of four, or so as Joy informed you while the two of you each cradled a twin as your husbands cooked dinner. It didn’t surprise you to learn her family stayed there, their house could fit a plethora of couples within it, the thing was giant, nearly bigger than the one you were raised in. 

You hadn’t seen Taehyun since the twins' birthday party, only him and his son, Minho, who was five years old making an appearance for a couple of hours before Sana called him home. They mostly stuck to themselves, Minho exploring around the twins' toys for a bit, or snuggling on his grandfather's lap.

Few words were exchanged between you and your step-brother, who was surprisingly sober. 

Hopefully for the sake of his son, Soobin had mumbled, having exchanged no words with the man dressed in black. Those two had it out for one another, whether your intuition over Taehyun’s aversion to Soobin was true or not.

Taehyun watched the boys crawl around, watched them interact with Soobin’s family, and kept his eye on them all while hugging the walls, like he was collecting recon. From time to time he’d send messages on his phone, and you wondered if it was to his wife, or to one guest invited not in attendance.

A boy you hadn’t spoken to in almost two years.

Behind you, Soobin pulled you closer between his legs, either one settling by your sides. You slotted in perfectly between his knees and allowed your head to lull backward onto him. Looking up at him from where you sat on the floor, you gave him the smallest of smiles, one he returned. Leaning over you, he pressed an upside down kiss to your lips, staying there for a few seconds before he pulled away and pressed one to your forehead.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he whispered against your skin. A slight pain speared through your heart, one that made an appearance on your brows. Soobin clicked his tongue and kissed you in the same spot, willing the discomfort away. “None of that. Look at our boys.”

Our boys.

Lifting your head, Soobin wrapped his arms around your chest and rested his chin over your hair. You both let out a laugh at once as the twins suddenly became aware of one another occupying the same space. Sunoo had crawled in front of Chan, the two sitting on their bottoms smiling at each other. They babbled incoherently at the same time, making the other laugh. Then, Sunoo lifted a hand and attempted to grab onto Chan’s foot, making his brother squeal and kick his legs like crazy. The oldest of the two watched his twin make a scene, then copied him.

“They’re best friends,” Soobin said quietly to not distract the boys. “Two happy little best friends, how lucky are they?”

“So lucky,” you whispered, holding onto his wrists with a grip that had potential to leave a mark behind. The little ones wouldn’t be here smiling at one another if it weren’t for the man wrapped around you.

The pain within was too much to bear. The dizzying nausea, the crippling, stay in bed type of sadness that infected your limbs every single day. The heartbreak that came in waves, typically crashing whenever Soobin held one of the boys, or both, rocking them to sleep, or soothing their cries. An emptiness, a disconnect that kept you so far away from accepting his love no matter how hard you tried, making you wonder if the guilt was ever going to leave, or, if you’d be forced to live your life stuck this way, in a push and pull of loss, shame, and gut wrenching heartbreak.

10/7/2020

…You’re getting so big, you’re walking already, that means you guys are smart. That means you guys are taking after your mom because no way in hell will you be getting any smarts from me. Part of me feels guilty writing this all down on paper instead of saying it to you, when I could be saying it to you, but I know one day you’ll understand why. I have no clue what comes of these letters, these pieces of me to you, so I have no idea when you’ll ever read this, so I’ll spare you your dads complaints. It makes me so happy to see your mom smile. Last time I saw her she was smiling, she was happy. You make her happy. Soobin makes her happy. You’re living a beautiful life, and that makes me happy. You’re safe, taken care of. You deserve that. Don’t forget to love her…

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