#and properly highlights the joys

[coolestguyonearth]

Crash Course and the Chinook Indian Nation!

So, imagine my shock and joy when I found out that Crash Course made a video highlighting my nation's fight for recognition. It was so overwhelming that I'm still riding that high as I write this. Crash Course is such a huge platform to be uplifting my people, and I'm so happy that they're doing it.

You guys might remember "Hey everyone, serious post!", a post I made that was a brief overview of how people can support my tribe. It started circulating again last week, which is perfect timing to coincide with this new video. I encourage anyone who cares even a little bit about Native American justice to watch it, because it gives a rundown on the most important things to do with NA sovereignty and recognition. It is so, so vital to know these things to properly advocate for my people and all of our related nations.

The Chinook Nation is an example of brutal injustice at the hands of the United States government. There are many other tribal nations out there who have fought long, arduous battles to gain recognition, or are still fighting to this day like us. The right to sovereignty is a basic one that all tribes are entitled to. It is a vast, repetitive, and infuriating failure of the US government that we must fight just to be acknowledged as existing people. We have always been here, and despite the genocide, we always will be.

Highlighting Native American voices is the safest way to spread our messages without accidentally disseminating misinformation. I sincerely hope that, if you have the time, you take it to watch Crash Course's video, and then you use the knowledge it gives you to be a better ally to the indigenous people in your life.

[yandere-daze]

My love for death note is still going strong so have some more headcanons! My head was filled with thoughts about Mikami lately so I hope you enjoy!

gn reader

1.6k words

cw yandere, obsession, stalking, manipulation, isolation, suicide threat

Yandere Teru Mikami x Reader

Mikami is an obsessive and worshipping yandere

I feel that he would naturally be drawn to a kind and gentle darling, someone that he believes is truly innocent and worthy of being part of the new world he strives to create in Kira`s name

He would worship your very existence and put you on a pedestal, highlighting all the positive traits you have ( or he imagines you to have) while completely ignoring any negatives. You are a perfect being, unblemished by the corruption of society and he knows that it is his duty to make sure that your innocence is preserved

For that reason, he makes sure to include some free time in his very busy and structured schedule to keep an eye on you and make sure that no one is hurting or defiling his precious angel

In other words, Mikami starts stalking you on a daily basis almost immediately after seeing you for the first time. He believes that only he is capable of making sure you are safe and to do that, he must keep a close eye on you. Of course, he also just loves secretly basking in your presence. Just a single glance of you is enough to wash away all the stress of his daily life. To him, your very existence is healing

He's usually watching you through your bedroom window in the evening. Nothing brings him greater joy than watching you sleep with a peaceful expression on your face. Oh, how he wishes he could crawl into bed right next to you and hold you close!

Another reason for his stalking is to learn more information about you. He won't be content to just watch you for long and as such, he needs to know exactly what you look for in a partner so he can make himself as appealing to you as possible when properly meeting you for the first time

Now Mikami can be very charming. He's very attractive looking, has a nice voice and a respectable job. He's also good at pretending to be reasonable and normal. It would not be very hard for him to pull you in and make you agree to meet up with him again and again

Even while you're not yet dating, Mikami would disapprove of you meeting with any other people, especially ones he would see as competition for your love. In his eyes, they are unworthy of being close to you. They're dirty, rotten. They would only corrupt someone as pure as you. And naturally, he can't have that

He believes himself to be the only one capable of taking proper care of you and treating you how you deserve to be treated. He's willing and even eager to worship the very ground you walk on. This man will grovel and plead for even a scrap of your attention. How could you ever even entertain the thought of being with anyone else?

He would definitely try to isolate you from people he doesn't approve of. He might leave you some friends that he has personally checked and vetted to ensure that they would not have any negative influence on you or worse, harbor any sort of feelings for you. Anyone else? You'll never see them again if he has any say in it

Maybe different from Light, I don't think Mikami would really hesitate to eliminate any competition or obstacles he might face. He has a very black-and-white view of morality and so likely views anyone who gets in his way of being with you as evil and worthy of death

He is sure that God must have brought you to him to reward his loyalty and dedication to the mission and so anyone who would interfere with God's will is a sinner of the worst order and must be dealt with swiftly

He's almost giddy with excitement whenever he writes down the name of someone you're close to, knowing that he is getting one step closer to having you all to himself

Of course, he would "comfort" you whenever you get sad about another one of your friends disappearing but inside he would be very pleased with himself. His darling is just so kind-hearted that they would even mourn for the low lives he deletes from existence. It just makes him fall for you even more, even if he thinks that your sadness is misplaced

Once you actually are in a relationship with Mikami, it would get very difficult for you to leave him. He probably won't immediately reveal that he's acting as Kira to you but over time, his rather disturbing view on morality would come to light

I think it is stated that Mikami only talks about his real views on criminals when he feels like he is speaking with someone who shares his values (like with Takada) but the longer Kira's reign continues and the more the approval ratings increase, the more outspoken he becomes about being a follower of Kira at least

I mean, he starts appearing on Kira's kingdom constantly to the point that Near grew suspicious of him because of that. Surely you as his partner would immediately take note of it if you saw him on TV like that

If you don't approve of Kira and get upset with him about it, Mikami would be very dismayed but try to explain his twisted idea of justice to you, all while carefully making sure to not reveal his real identity to you. He's very good at making his arguments sound logical and well-thought-out to the point that it would be difficult to really argue against

Despite that, Mikami wouldn't really "punish" you for speaking out against Kira. He doesn't approve of it but he just believes you to be temporarily confused and thinks that you will come around to his line of thinking eventually. Clearly, there must be someone in your life who is poisoning your mind with blasphemous thoughts about Kira being evil

No matter, he will just delete them as well with a flick of his wrist

Now if you actually tried breaking up with him? He wouldn't take it well, at all.

He would insist on knowing what he did wrong and what he could do to make it up to you. He promises that he can be better, he would do anything for you! It's one of the rare occasions where the normally rather composed man would crumble into a pathetic mess on the ground

He's full-on crying and cowering on the ground as he latches onto your legs, trying to stop you from leaving. You can't do this to him, he loves you more than anything! If you're gone, he doesn't know if he has the strength to continue on. You're his angel, the person he knows he's meant to be with for the rest of his life. So if you plan on leaving him...

He won't be able to take it. If you leave him now, he's going to take his own life! And he's fully serious when he tells you this. He doesn't necessarily even say it because he's trying to guilt-trip you into staying, he's just at his absolute breaking point. He truly does feel like everything is hopeless and meaningless without you by his side. He can't imagine life without your touch, your voice, your smile

So please don't do this to him. Don't leave him. He's willing to do anything to make things right!

If you decide to stay, things just become even worse for you. Mikami's love becomes absolutely suffocating. He's so paranoid that you might suddenly change your mind again that he's totally unwilling to leave you out of his sights for long. He will definitely install trackers on you to put his mind at ease when he inevitably will have to leave the house for work. Always leaves the door locked too so you can't run or be stolen away by someone else

That will be a constant worry on his mind anyway. The thought of someone else filling your head with empty lies and taking you away from him. His heart feels like it might break when he thinks about it too much. And he does.

Remember when you used to be able to meet with friends he had vetted? Yeah, no more of that. Someone must have talked you into wanting to leave him in the first place so he won't take any chances anymore. He's the only person you're allowed to have contact with anymore

It truly hurts him to see you sad or upset about being completely isolated but he always shushes your cries with gentle kisses and reassurances that all of this is just for your own good. You'll sooner or later come to realize that he only wants what's best for you

Mikami would also super-lovebomb you. He does this even before your "relationship" got to this point but he's especially bad after that attempted breakup.

He tells you how much he loves you every single day and holds you close whenever he can. He says that you're the only one for him, that he can't imagine being with anyone else. That he would do absolutely anything for you. And at this point, you don't doubt that

Mikami will absolutely try to rush your relationship as well. He will try to be gentle and patient but he's just absolutely desperate to secure your relationship and tie you down as fast as possible to calm his paranoia.

He would want to rush into marriage even after only a few dates, liking how a legal document would try to solidify your claim on each other and it would make the process of leaving him that much harder, combined with the fact that he will be the one making most of the money

But don't worry about what life would be without him, he will not let go of you anytime soon and he promises to worship you for the rest of your lives <3

[lumenniveus]

"The world is what you make of it, sir! If it doesn't fit, you make alterations."

RuneStone my dark love letter to you this year. I have put love, blood and many hidden secrets into these objects. Some you can only find during gameplay, others will only show themselves when you aren't directly looking.

Download it now on SFS: Merged | ZIP

Grab esotericas-sims's dormer window recolor here

As always, there is more info below the cut for you 🦇

RuneStone is an 68 asset large set full of Gothic, dark and mostly functional items. I'm going to list a few highlights below the catalog. It is mostly BGC, but what needs a pack will be properly named as such.

* not pictured here are: 2 wallpapers, 1 stone wall, 2 wooden floors, 1 ceiling tile *

A pocket door is a door that slides into walls. It's especially nice to look at in dark academia builds and haunted mansions.

A SHROMP that acts as an anti-monster toy. Many thanks to @surely-sims for the original iconic SHROMP!

A rounded bar to fill out small rounded spaces. These are seamless, so don't hesitate to put them into your turrets or belfry.

Lots of visual effects that you can toggle on and off.

A see-through dungeon floor, anyone?

Two TVs that don't look like TVs. Who has a flatscreen in an medieval castle? One slots to things, the other has slots.

Stairs. As in, a staircase you use in BB mode. Not much else to say there.

Dormer windows and matching fake roofing, as well as enough stained glass to make a cathedral weep in joy.

This set is tagged as Vintage and Storybook furniture style and will behave appropriately in-game.

Will you build something grande and majestic or will you settle down in grimdark catacombs? Your choice, really. Have a preview

With everything up, let's begin @simblreenofficial 👻

[overtake]

Max and Daniel’s morning, pre Melbourne padel (~ 930 words) (also a factual and true account of events)

Max traces his hand along the delicate outline of Daniel’s collarbone. Beneath it, Daniel’s chest rises and falls in a steady, even rhythm, disrupted only by the occasional snore. There’s a thick layer of dark hair covering the place where his heart beats. It’s been ages since he stopped waxing, but Max never tires of the opportunity to see him as he was meant to be.

He doesn’t know how long he sits there, in the end. The sun has long risen through the cracks in the curtains, highlighting the bump of Daniel’s nose, the few flecks of grey beginning around his temple, the little bare spot on his beard that Daniel had accidentally shaved when he meant to trim. Max’s fingers are still lightly following the shape of Daniel’s tattoos, halfway through the word ‘love’, when his eyelashes finally flutter.

Normally, Daniel is far more regulated about his sleep schedule than Max is and has usually lived half a day before Max wakes up. It’s the only advantage of Max’s jet lag; when they’re anywhere but home, Max gets to luxuriate in the experience of watching Daniel’s joy-lined face remember there’s a day ahead, before his eyes land on Max and shape back into the sleepy half-smile that’s for no one but them and hotel mornings. Max has watched him wake up a thousand times in a thousand places in a thousand ways, but ever finding it banal would be akin to growing bored with watching the sun rise.

“Good morning,” Daniels says, the greeting low and half lost while his throat remembers how to sound out words. He reaches out a relaxed arm, untwisting it from the cocoon of sheets to grab at Max’s hip. The black rose and tan fingers contrast against the white-pink skin that dimples under his touch, grabbing just enough that Max knows what Daniel is asking for.

He moves out of his cross-legged position to kneel over Daniel’s torso, each leg tight along the sides of his body. Daniel rests his hands on the top of Max’s thighs, moving his fingers tantalizingly slow. They brush the fine hair askew, dip under the tight black confines of his boxer briefs, circle around to the insides of his thighs and just barely graze the slow-growing bulge, before moving almost down to Max’s knees. Max shudders, goosebumps appearing with the lingering remnants of Daniel’s soft touches, before he finally seats himself on Daniel’s stomach and straddles him properly.

Daniel’s not as small as he once was, no longer forced to stay lean and lithe to force himself into a race car. He’s finally able to build muscle in the way he’s always wanted. Max likes him all ways, but he likes it the most when Daniel likes himself. He’s quiet about it, but Max can see it in the way Daniel lingers in the mirror a little longer, appreciating that his workout tops are slightly tighter around the bands of muscle and broader chest.

“Do you still have to be at the shop this morning?” Max asks when Daniel fully wraps his arms around Max’s lower back and lifts himself into a seated position with an exaggerated groan, burying his face into the junction of Max’s neck and shoulder. He nips at it playfully, then nods big enough that Max can feel the answer against his skin.

“Soon?” Max checks. They have padel plans this afternoon before Daniel has to leave the city, make his quiet exit back to his friends and family and farm and nothing that reminds him of the car that was meant to be his. When the clock strikes midnight into Thursday, they both want him away from the noise of this weekend.

“Soon,” Daniel confirms, adjusting Max slightly on his lap and pulling him impossibly closer. Max will make the brief stop to Perth after this, to feel the last rays of Australian summer as it morphs into autumn, in a place where neither of them have to remember racing and can leave behind the resentment of what could have been.

Daniel’s beard is slightly scratchy against Max’s neck, no doubt turning the sensitive skin pinker than the sun soon will. He smells of coconut shampoo and the slightly chemical hotel sheets.

They should take hurried advantage of these spare moments. Max of a few years ago can’t even fathom having an ounce of time with Daniel where someone’s not frantically getting off. He’s enjoying it, though. He could have intense sex with Daniel nonstop and never get bored of the intimacy, the luxury of knowing Daniel’s touch, but he doesn’t feel sick with the need anymore. Daniel is going nowhere. Daniel has run so many times, away from so much and toward the promise of all that has failed him, but he’s always come back to Max. They have forever to know the sounds of each other’s moans, the changing of their bodies and the years, the pride in knowing exactly what pushes the other over the edge. Even on a day where Daniel is leaving, there’s no urgency.

It starts slow and ends slow, Max rutting his hand against the grip of Daniel’s hand, Daniel rocking his hips under Max. Their release is quiet, a shuddered gasp of relief and peppered kisses. There’s no rush to the shower, either. Max has nowhere to be this morning, and Daniel’s commitments rank second on a day like this. Max rests his forehead against a soft head of curls, strokes the velvet soft skin of his back, and soaks peacefully in the rays of Daniel’s love.

[m1ssunderstanding]

My thoughts on Beatles 64

Am I a terrible person or something because I’m genuinely having such a hard time wrapping my head around these people’s reactions to their president getting shot. Like I can count on one hand the people I’d give a fuck about in DC and I’m not crying if that happens. I’m angry. I’m scared. But I’m not sad.

Who is this covering all my loving? It’s pretty.

I will forever love Paul and George’s big and little brother dynamic. Deep, cloudy scouse: they’re in perfect synchronization. Bright, squeaky scouse: Are they? Like, where is George’s little chimney sweep costume?!

And Paul’s sharp tone calling John’s name. I don’t know, I could obsess over any little scrap of footage of them. I just love picking apart details that reveal dynamics.

George’s insecure, curious, “Are you filming now?” Compared to his over-it, sardonic, “Are you recording our conversation?” He aged about twenty years between 64 and 69.

John’s reaction to his own voice in his ears is always a straight shot of joy.

I like that they’re showing all the boys. You know, because if only girls like them, then they’re just a silly pop group, but if boys like them too, well. That’s something else, isn’t it?

One of my favorite moments. No wonder Paul took so well to shepherding. His blood pressure spiking if John gets out of arm's reach. And John is of course so happy to be pulled back in.

Their hair really was so fluffy!

John spreads his legs when he’s playing because he’s an anxious attachment. Paul keeps his legs closed because he’s avoidant. In this essay I will.

This mix of She Loves You is really highlighting Ringo’s drumming for me. He’s so talented and attractive.

This is why Paul’s my favorite, genuinely. Because he goes from the most polite, people-pleasing, tender-heart to an absolute mean girl cunty bitch in the span of less than a second.

Ringo is the quickest wit, I’m telling you, and if anyone says otherwise, I’m cancelling you for classism.

Why is it always Paul these middle aged creeps feel the need to touch? I mean, I know why. But it makes me sick. That kind of thing is reserved for the mutuals. Definitely not cops.

It’s literally sooooo funny for me seeing this guy choke up about She Loves You. Like I’m genuinely happy for him, but I was literally just over at my husband’s grandparents double-wide and they Still go on about how stupid the Beatles haircuts were and how they remember the days before the Beatles when there was ‘real’ rock and roll on the radio.

So, Paul’s been telling the story of Jim critiquing She Loves You for literally sixty years now, and originally it was with mix-ins from John and George and without a lot of artificial sweeteners. Here’s the sixty-year-old version:

Back home in Liverpool, we used to sing over some of our songs to relatives—I did to my Dad and my aunties,” he recalled. “My Dad would look at me looking disappointed. ‘I don’t know young Paul,’ he’d say. ‘I try to get you to speak properly, and you drop your aitches. Why sing ‘Yeah, Yeah’ when you mean ‘Yes, Yes?’ I tried to explain this was the whole point of the song,” Paul continued. John broke in: “Anyone ever heard someone from Liverpool singing ‘Yes’? It’s YEAH.” Paul continued: “Well, we just laughed. My Dad gave us some of the worst advice ever. He said this music thing will never last. It’s all right on the side, he’d say, BUT PAUL IT WILL NEVER LAST!” “Remember,” said George, “he always wanted us to sing ‘Stairway to Paradise’?” – Ray Coleman article 1964

What a cutie. Shouldn't be allowed.

“That wasn’t really the case.” (that America was the land of the free). He always almost gets to his political views. You know? Microdosing? Left-bating? Maybe both. Whatever.

I LOVE their funny little accents with all my heart. John does posh scarily well.

Ringoooooooo!

“Go on! Defy convention!” Quotes that define the speaker. He should sell t-shirts with that slogan.

This girl’s Brooklyn accent and her confidence are so beautiful!

Why did they buy John an ID I’m actually dying! Oh! They don’t mean, they mean like Paul’s and Ringo’s bracelets. Got it. Okay. I was like ‘are you trying to help him ten years in advance with his immigration struggle?’

The juilliard girl is phenomenal.

I want the nylons and I want the shoes.

“Would you do me a tremendous favor?” “I’m not gonna kiss you like Elisabeth Taylor.” See? Ringo is the funny one. Ringo is so fucking sharp and nobody gives him the credit he’s due.

Ronnie Spector you deserved better, Queen! I love her. She’s so gorgeous, she’s so cool, she’s so young and energetic!

Two excellent Lennonisms right in a row. “Have you been watching the newsies?” and “I don’t care,” I say as I care caringly. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, he has the most sunshiny smile in the Beatles.

Ringoooooo!

Not the picture of JohnandPaul singing together as “with lovers and friends” plays.

Love Paul offering Ringo a candy. In yet another accent. People need to make them talk in goofy accents more in fic because it’s incessant. But I just love them offering each other food. It’ll always get me.

See, this is what I love about John. “People have been tryna stamp out rock and roll since it started.” “Why do you think that is? What are they afraid of?” “I always thought it was cause it came from black music.” He’s not ‘honest to a fault’ or whatever the boomer men love to say. But he’s very, very blunt, and he’s not going to try and skirt anything. You know?

Literally the most embarrassing thing a person can ever be is white.

“I thought it was very weak. You know what I think, I call a spade a spade. I thought it was weaker than weak.” Cook him! And then the mimicking! I love him so much! Holy shit, that would’ve been so enraging.

And then the quiet sass of the guy being interviewed right after. “Well, the versatility, the originality. I like anything that’s original.” I love some clever tumblr web-weaving in my documentaries.

In my husband’s grandparent’s defense, the “real rock and roll” they loved before the Beatles was literally only black artists.

I love this picture for ever. Look at how tight he’s holding on to John with one hand and the other hand raised in joyous triumph, engagement bracelet visible. This is Paul in heaven.

“The whole assumption of male vs female is not prominent. They’re sort of in-between.” Yes. Love. Keep going.

Ringo’s got all the quips, again. “Ringo, look over here!” Puts his hands up. “Don’t shoot!”

I didn’t know Smokey Robinson and the Miracles went to the Cavern, that’s cool! And here I was thinking I wouldn’t learn anything new from this doc. His whole interview is very lovely and generous.

I always think “You’ve Really Got a Hold on Me” probably spoke to John in terms of his relationship with Paul, but I go there so easily. Anyway, Smokey Robinson had every right to be pissed that they released a cover of his song without even asking. Like that would be illegal nowadays, right? And yet he’s so kind about it.

We talk about how scary Beatlemania was and we should because it was, but it really puts it in perspective for me personally hearing Smokey say he was shot at for trying to use the bathroom.

Oh I love that we have footage of Paul taking Ringo’s picture! Makes me think of “eye of the storm” obviously, but also the way he’s mocking the photographer's jargon of the time as he’s doing it. The fact that he ended up marrying a photographer who made a point to depict him as not just “some doe eyed sex object” in her pictures, and also of his song “pretty boys” and his quotes about the sexualization of “male models”. Definitely not about anything he himself experienced. Anyway, thoughts. Strings. Pins. Etc.

Also Ringo turning to the camera still filming him, “what do you think I am, a monkey?” Remember that part in this footage where Ringo says something like, “are we ever going to have a break from all these cameras?” And he’s exhausted. It really seems like, from the footage selected by this doc at least, that Paul and Ringo were doing the bulk of the lifting at this time just with cooperating with the show biz stuff. And isn’t that (interesting? Sad? Poetic? Good?) that they’re the ones still cooperating sixty years later.

How dare they cut out “but we ain’t written no poetry!”

As John’s panicking, “how are we gonna – have you seen the kids? How are we gonna get in, then?” Paul’s just calmly going, “Hi girls!” With a patient smile and a cute little wave. “I’ll just go in and speak to the people first, okay?” I love Paul “calming-down-other-people’s-hysteria-is-my-calling-in-life” McCartney.

Cute, George introducing a song he’ll do a viral backflip to in twenty years.

I wonder what that letter is. John’s being very tender with it.

“You’re fired!” “It’s Love Me Do, whacker!” With the sweetest most innocent smile. I love when John is John, you know?

“To me they’re all obviously low or middle class, highly illiterate, unintelligent wild kids seeking a little fun and pleasure . . . I think there’s something very strange about it at the same time, something very sick. . . . I’m sure that sexual reasons have something to do with it. They find the Beatles sexually attractive and they’ve made some kind of psychological tie with them. I think the whole thing’s a little bit frightening and quite sick.” Where’s that old meme with Trump describing the democrats in the most hateful terms he can think of and people being like “yep that’s me”?

Paul stopping to say goodbye by name to each of the people who've been in their hotel room one by one. It’s giving *Opra voice* “and you please don’t hate us and you please dont hate us and you please don’t hate us”

Ringo coming back because he went the wrong way is the most me-core thing.

Paul will come in with the random shouts and yelling in the middle of a song he’s singing lead on all the way from the very beginning and all the way to the very very end, huh.

I just get filled with so much rage at this image of the Bernstein family, especially after the footage of the Gonzalezes. Like, I know I need therapy. I know. But it costs money. Anyway, all rich people can go straight to hell. “I was allowed to wheel the TV set down from the library, down the corridor and into the dining room.” Oh, were you! Well, you must be very special, then.

I wonder if Paul’s title of his exhibition has anything to do with this quote from John about “It was like being in the eye of a hurricane.”

The girl hanging on Ringo like a jungle-gym is me. I love the way he flirts, it’s so smooth, physical, casual.

Classic John moment and he doesn’t even open his mouth.

My dearest wish is that these two are happily married now, holding hands in the theater watching this.

The voice of the woman asking Paul “what do you think of the American TV” sounded extremely like Linda’s. I sort of panicked for a second. Linda’s voice is lower, but the accent and cadence and the sort of wealthy slouch is the same.

I love them picking up on the dystopian beginnings of America’s version of late-stage capitalism and broadcasting the ridiculousness of it all to a public that didn’t know any different. “The situation in China is very bad. Have you ever wondered, when you’re eating at home?”

The guys setting up wearing Beatles wigs? Ew. Why?

Ringo’s so funny! “Watch any band. If anything goes wrong, they go – Blame the drummer.” And he’s so endearing and sweet. “I just always wanted to be IN the band, not like ‘oh, I’m over here.’” Reminds me of his quote about being lonely as an only child and ending up with three brothers. What a tenderheart.

Huh. Always thought some idiots just set up his rostrum backwards. The rest of the stage spinning around it makes much more sense.

That little smile between the two of them.

George in tears! Poor baby! I really do think, with the way this affected him on another level than it affected the others, and with the way he talked about his experiences at the Inny compared to Paul (not that you can trust Paul to say anything actually gets to him) that George maybe was more sensitive to classism than the others.

I hope Paul said something to that affect to George after. “They’re working at an embassy. We’re on the road, rocking. I don’t give a flying fuck.” You know? I could see it.

Another thing I love about John. You need that guy on your team, whatever it is you’re trying to accomplish. That when people are being bitchy, you tell them to fuck off and you leave. I bet Paul, George, and Ringo were so relieved that John did that for them.

After Ringo talked about not wanting to be back behind and separate from the band, I’ve noticed all three of them stepping back sometimes to stand more in line with him when they’re not singing. I don’t know if it was conscious or natural, but either way, I love that they did that and I’m sure Ringo did too.

The looks and smiles

I usually maintain that Paul is only sexy from 60-61 and from 68-98 and from 18-now. But. This is just objectively hot, I don’t care who you are.

It’s so sweet to see George being such a ham, getting John to do silly bits with him, putting on a waiter’s uniform and passing out drinks, climbing up in the luggage compartment. I wish they could’ve somehow kept it at a pace that was manageable for him so he could’ve kept on being so happy with his life, you know? I mean it’s not like it just disappears completely. There’s some of it in Get Back and even in Anthology, but it’s just not the same.

This is what happens when you’re a slut, Paul. You get paternity suits that ruin your mood. Shame, shame.

Interesting that Paul points out Brian’s “defying convention” by having them play their scandalous rock and roll shows in all these “hallowed halls”. I’d never thought about it as Brian’s conscious decision but obviously it must’ve been, and that’s very clever and snarky of him.

“That man, who is strong enough to be gentle, that is a new man.” Betty Friedan is pro-beatle. We love to see it!

Watching Paul try to behave like a human being on stage with all of his early twenties energy is honestly painful. It’s like Kurt Vonnegut’s Harrison Bergeron, you know? Like I can just see him aching to let himself free, but there are weights put in place for a reason. I know Brian was right to calm them down, and this documentary is proof that if he hadn’t done his taming, either they never would’ve made it or there would’ve been all-out class warfare or something, but it breaks my heart, it really does.

Ronald Isley, again, just like Smokey Robinson, being so so charitable here, and managing to do so without playing down the fact that things were absolutely rigged against him and his group at the time. “We should be on the Ed Sullivan show doing . . .” Yes. Yes.

I looked it up, and this quote is genuine. “If it wasn’t for the isley brothers, we would still be in Liverpool.” – Paul McCartney. That’s one thing I love about him. He’s always giving – very much due – credit to his black contemporaries. People ask him about Elvis and he always says, “yes, and Little Richard.” People say he was the most innovative bass player of his time and he says, “yes, and Fred Thomas.”

Ringo literally gets me every time. George: I don’t remember Wales. Ringo: It was before you joined the group.

The way Paul talks about George living “the good life” is very much in the tone of an older brother who’s helped his little brother do well for himself, you know? It’s adorable.

Of course Paul’s out feeding seagulls.

Not even going to comment on the “i love you” thing. Nope.

Okay I do have to say, the end of this guy’s story about going to liverpool and getting deported is incredibly sweet. I was kind of ignoring him, and then when he said he met John during Imagine, I sort of braced myself. But it turned out absolutely adorable. I love John’s little antenna miming and that he promoted this guy just for having made the front page of the Liverpool Echo. It’s all very John, very endearing.

I hope Paul and this weepy old guy had a talk about healing yourself from abuse through music. There’s like a 1/100 chance, but I still hope they did.

John loves a good boat analogy, doesn’t he? “There was a ship going to discover the new world. And the beatles were in the crows nest on the same ship [as everyone else] and we just said ‘land ho!’

Love the use of “Roll Over Beethoven” as the final song.

[robo-writing]

Can we please get a small one shot with Butch!Logan 😩 I need to know her strap game

Also gonna hijack your ask to drop butch!logan headcanons because i love her 🥹

The worst case of resting bitch face this side of the galaxy. It actually made it super difficult to tell she had a crush on you because every interaction felt like she was silently judging you. (She wasn’t, she was just incredibly nervous and didn’t know how to express it.)

She’s so BIG. BIG THIGHS, BIG ARMS, just BIG.

Again, body hair mention, but it comes in advantage because she’s so fucking warm. Winter’s her favorite season because it means you’ll stick to her like glue when it’s cold outside.

If you’re into makeup, she likes to watch you get dolled up, it’s the highlight of her day. She watches intently as you pull out a big fluffy brush—blush, right?—and gawks at you from the bed as your cheeks become bright and rosey.

You always offer to let her choose your look right before you go out on a date, and while she might not be well versed in color palettes you always make it work, and she loves that about you.

More than anything though, she adores when you let her choose your lipstick. Red’s her favorite, because it’s nice and obvious when you kiss her.

Logan gets a high whenever you ogle her body, she can feel her ego grow each time. Your nails scratching against her abs is a kind of joy she can’t compare to anything else in this world.

She also “accidentally” walks out of the shower nude. Notice the quotation marks.

18+ below

So again, I will die on this hill, the strap game is IMMACULATE.

If she wasn’t talented enough with her fingers and mouth, she wields a strap like it’s a fucking weapon

Likes to tease you with the head, barely stretching you open and yet you’re already shaking.

She’s so much bigger than you, so of course she has to have a strap the same size to compensate.

A solid 6.5 inches of pleasure, girthy enough that it takes some sizeable foreplay before you can even think about taking all of her.

If she’s feeling particularly cruel, she’ll make you lay across her lap and make you suck her off while her fingers massage your g-spot.

“Get me nice and wet honey, gotta make sure my girl’s comfortable, don’t I?”

Even with all that prep you still struggle to take all of it, and Logan’s there to make sure you do.

She knows your limits, and she knows you’ll be a good girl and take it.

You whine about how it’s too big, but it’s alright—she’ll get you used to it soon enough.

She’ll hold you by the neck if you squirm too much, mock you as she feeds your greedy pussy inch by inch, lick your tears clean off your cheeks when you cum just from her bottoming out.

“Why’re you crying doll? I haven’t even fucked you properly yet? Poor thing.”

Her thumb circles your clit in response, tutting at the sight of you whimpering at her touch.

“Don’t look like it’s too much to me,” she grins, watching your pussy grip down like a vice. “Seems like a perfect fit, huh honey?”

[gordonengineswifenirmal]

lol I had to feature this! It made me smile.

I had a nice conversation! This deserves being highlighted!

I don’t mean to intimidate, but it’s hilarious! And no harm done. I’m amused by it! I feel u on social anxiety though. I finally reached cool status! When I was in school, a former best friend ended our friendship n joined a clique because I WASNT cool enough.

I’m very friendly n enjoy a good chat with good folks who r mature n think properly. Only ones who should b intimated by me r the ones who know they r doing wrong n acting like prat’s lol. THATS the real me. You decorated me tumblr, n im grateful! U r always welcome to stop by - reboblogs, dm, whatever ur comfortable with. And please don’t b afraid to share more engines! N train experiences! I’d love to hear about that! Our conversation was utter eye n mind bleach!

Im not here for the drama, im here for these great conversations. Theyre a simple joy. Nothing taken out of context to hurt anyone, n in fact, u reminded me of the few times when i was happy as a youth!

Have a

(And what the hell is this? lol I love it)

[cosmickid-inmotion]

Beyond a blank slate reader

Hello everyone! There's been some wonderful discussions about inclusivity in the PPCU recently and I highly encourage them to keep on! A lot of it how certain phrases can code a reader as white, like "you blushed" etc. It's important to try and make your reader as inclusive as possible!

But I wanted to share some stories that aren't just a blank slate reader, but are my attempt to make people not only not feel excluded, but specifically included.

A lot of this is stuff i wrote because I wanted to see myself, like jewish or transmasc readers, in fics. Others I wrote because I want others to have that same feeling. That not only can you put yourself in the story, but you can actually see it clearly there.

I'll be honest, this came after getting an anon calling me not one but two slurs (three? They repeated one with a shortened version lol) and I wanted to be EVEN MORE LOUD about writing trans characters. i figured why not highlight all sorts of things that readers might like to read that are hard to find!

I've also included anything I think is under represented, like Boston!Joel with no age gap reader, or plus sized readers.

Below will be fics with readers and OC's with different gender identities, race, ethnicity, religion, and disabilties.

Most are Pedro Pascal and Oscar Isaac, but there's some with the other triple frontier boys <3

And to be clear, there is NOTHING wrong with a blank slate. MOST of what I write is blank slate. But you can absolutly be descriptive as long as you are tagging properly! And you can write for more than just no descripters. I am white, but I have no desire to only ever write white characters. We can all branch out and learn.

I've asked this before, what representation specifically do YOU want to see? Drop in my inbox, and I'll consider it, as going forward I think I'm more interested in x oc rather than x reader.

Last year I tried to compile a list of explicitly non-white fics by other writers and only got two people replying so it didnt go anywhere, but I'm going to try again this weekend! That way I can highlight not just myself.

Moon Knight

Seattle (Series): Marc Spector x Jewish!fem!OC. Marc trying to help Rebecca leave an abusive relationship.

Both of Us: Marc Spector x muslism!fem!Reader. Reader and Marc expecting a baby <3

The Times, they are a-chang'n: Marc Spector x Jewish!fem!Reader

Steven With A Non-Verbal reader: Steven Grant with selectively mute reader.

Marc with a Plus Sized reader: Marc Spector x plus sized! reader. Reader

Her Hair Reminds Me of a Warm Safe Place: Marc Spector x Layla El-Faouly. I didn't add every Marc x Layla here but I wrote this one specifically for my friend Clem who is arab and curly haired like Layla and has so much joy seeing Layla and her curls on screen, so I emphasized Marc finding safety in her.

Moon Boys with an agoraphobic reader: Headcanons of a reader with agoraphobia

I wrote one with Steven with a reader with ocd but i cant fucking find it so if you see it lmk lol

Triple Frontier

If You Wanna be Wild: Javier Pena x Latina!fem!Reader/oc x Santiago Garcia. Javier gets a new partner, a young Santi, and they go after Lorea together. He does not account for both of them sleeping with the same prositute. Partway through, "reader" became more of an oc, but the description is clear. She's latina and Colombian, curly hair. When I start moving everything to my new blog I'll just edit everything as an OC.

Big Boys Don't Cry: Trans! Santiago Garcia x transmasc!reader

Santi With a Curly Haired Reader: Just what it says. Not explicitly POC but can easily imagine if you have curly hair no matter the race.

See more at the bottom about the leather and lace universe

The Last of Us

Darkness on the Edge of Town: Joel Miller x older!fem!reader. By older, I mean she's the same age as Joel in boston, post-menopause. Joel saves a woman from FEDRA guards and they are stuck together in his apartment during a lockdown.

Lights: Joel Miller x jewish!fem!reader. Jackson!Joel asks out Jewish!reader

About a Girl: Joel Miller x trans!fem!reader. Joel, a single dad of a kindergarten aged Sarah, meets Blue, and is instantly attracted, but he doesn't know she's trans yet. Heavy on themes of found family, domestic abuse to Joel, addiction, transphobia.

Joel Takes a Strap: Joel x trans!masc!reader. Is exactly what it says LOL

The River: Joel Miller x black!fem!reader. Sarah's mom reader, Joel and you lose your virginities together, Sarah is conceived.

Happy Birthday, Joel: Trans!Joel x male!reader. You and Joel pic out a new name for him.

Santa Joel-y: Joel Miller x plus sized!Fem!Reader. Joel is feeling down about his weight gain, reader cheers him up.

Narcos

If You Wanna be Wild: Javier Pena x Latina!fem!Reader/oc x Santiago Garcia. Partway through, "reader" became more of an oc, but the description is clear. She's latina and Colombian, curly hair. When I start moving everything to my new blog I'll just edit everything as an OC. Javier gets a new partner, a young Santi, and they go after Lorea together. He does not account for both of them sleeping with the same prositute.

Leather and Lace universe (Triple Frontier)

Putting this at the bottom because it's my baby and i know I promo it a lot so I wanted to give people a chance to see the other stuff.

Leather and Lace universe started with Just writing the series leather and Lace. I wasn't ready to let go of the characters i created, so I branched off with Frankie and Jana's story. now it's an anthology.

Each series can be read seperately, but are best all together because there are side arches. Each series is a different TF boy and their OC, each OC is wildly varied.

The full LaL masterlist with chronological pieces here if you want to read it all to date, OR you can look below for one that fits your tastes.

Please be mindful of warnings of each. heavy themes of domestic violence, rape, addiction, and child abuse are present.

Leather and Lace: Santiago Garcia x oc, Laci. The Tf boys find laci in Colombia, a victim of sex trafficking and they rescue her. She's deeply traumatized, but Santi is there to help her every step. Santi is coded to be autistic and is non-verbal often (more in the begining, she talks more as her anxiety eases.) and she has severe PTSD.

Take Your Time: Francisco Morales x oc, Jana. frankie is struggling to stay sober. Despite his attempts to push people away, Jana won't allow him to lose himself in addiction and depression, for his own and for their daughter's sake. Jana is a bisexual icon, and Afro-latina.

For the Longest Time: William Miller x OC, Lorelei. Lorelei and Will keep accidentally meeting. Suspicious and often judgmental, Lorelei is hesitant to let Will and his friends in. She learns she can trust them, and they learn she has a heart of gold and is the most loyal friend you could have. Lorelei is Vietnamese.

Coming soon... No Surrender: Ben Miller x oc, Cam. Join the tag list! Stuck in an abusive relationship and drinking heavily, Ben is just trying to get through this harvest and sell the family farm. Will calls in the only person he thinks can help his brother. Cam is Scottish and part Vietnamese (1/4), and has a hearing aid.

If any incorrect, outdated, or offensive langauge was used in any of these descripters, please let me know! I do my best to research and ask people in any groups I am not a part of, but I know things can slip through and I will never be above being corrected

Thank you for taking the time to read my works! If you are so inclinced, check out my event, disability visibility, to highlight disability awareness!

Follow @cosmic-kid-in-motion which will be my new blog! Im going to start moving things over there. Don't worry, ill keep things up at this blog for a long while, but if by chance you are seeing this list and links dont work, go over to that blog and i'll hopefully have this list with SO MUCH MORE I have planned, like marcus acacius x muslism!reader, and wheelchair user Santi!

[nayiana0]

Quiet Until You | 4

⋮ ⌗ ┆analysis : you had everything under control—your grades, your goals, your walls. but when Choi San, the school’s troublemaker, gets assigned the seat beside you .. control is the first thing to go. he talks too much. smirks too often. And somehow, when detention throws you two into each other’s orbit for real, the tension gets harder to ignore—and so do the feelings. she was quiet. until him.

⋮ ⌗ ┆ genre : slow burn, fluff/angst, romance, enemies to lovers.

⋮ ⌗ ┆ warnings : mild angst, alcohol, emotional intensity

⋮ ⌗ ┆ wc: 7.2k

a/n : once a player always a player also i think i wrote this drunk ngl so mb if something doesnt make sense......

══════════════════════ ✧. ┊⋆ ★

*Chapter 4: Unlocked**

You sat at your desk, eyes blurred from reading the same line in your textbook over and over. Your highlighter was uncapped, but you hadn’t touched the page in minutes. your phone buzzed. A message from San.

San:

you’ve been studying all day. take a break, come out with me. just us. i promise.

You hesitated. Things had been up and down with him — but lately, there was something different in the way he looked at you, spoke to you, touched you. you bit your lip, staring at the screen before finally replying:

You:

where?

The sky was painted in soft shades of pink and orange as San waited for you at the edge of the local boardwalk, hands shoved in his jacket pockets, sneakers tapping against the wooden planks. He looked up the moment he heard your footsteps.

"You came," he said, a hint of surprise in his voice.

"You asked," you replied, a small smile tugging at your lips.

You walked together along the quiet path, the sound of distant waves crashing against the shore. San wasn’t his usual cocky self — he was quieter, thoughtful, his body language soft and open.

"You know I’m not great with words," he said, breaking the silence. "But… I’ve been thinking about what to say to you for a while now."

You looked at him, curious but cautious.

"I was a mess before I met you. I pushed you away, lied, acted like I didn’t care — and that’s on me," he continued, his voice low. "You didn’t deserve that. And I don’t know how to make up for it all, but I want to try. If you let me."

You didn’t say anything. You were trying not to cry. But San wasn’t done.

"I’m not gonna pretend to be perfect. I’m not. But I’m trying — for you. Because this…" he paused, pulling something small from his pocket. A delicate silver ring with a thin band, understated but beautiful, catching the last light of sunset.

"...is my promise. That I’m serious about you. About this."

your breath caught in your throat as he gently slid the ring into your hand. your fingers trembled. It was so sudden, so sincere, so him.

"San…" your voice cracked, and that’s when the tears came. Not dramatic, sobbing tears — but soft, confused ones. Joy. Sadness. Relief. Fear. you didn’t even know what to say, so you didn’t. you just hugged him — tightly, wordlessly.

"I meant it," he murmured into her hair. "I’m not letting you go."

You pulled back just enough to look up at him, your cheeks damp, your heart pounding in your chest. His eyes were already on you — and there was something about the way he looked at her that made the entire boardwalk disappear.

"Can I kiss you?" he asked softly.

You nodded.

And he leaned in — slowly, almost hesitantly — brushing his lips against yours. Gentle at first, then deeper, as if he'd been waiting to do this properly all along. You kissed him back, fingers curling in his hoodie, heart bursting with every second.

Then suddenly — laughing a little — he pulled away and without warning, scooped you up in his arms and spun you around once in a playful, lighthearted twirl.

Your laugh broke the tension like sunlight through storm clouds.

"You're insane," you said breathlessly.

"Insanely into you," he smirked, setting you down gently.

You rolled her eyes, cheeks pink, but you couldn’t stop smiling.

"Wanna keep this night going?" he asked, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "No pressure, but... I was gonna order food, maybe watch something. You could come over. Just chill. No games."

For once, you didn’t hesitate.

"Okay," you said.

And with fingers interlaced and hearts still racing, you walked back together — this time, toward a night filled with warmth, stories, and the beginning of something real.

———————

You didn’t expect his house to look like that.

Pulling up to a place like this — modern, quiet, clean lines with huge windows and warm lights spilling from behind navy curtains — had you stunned for a second. You weren’t sure what you imagined, but it wasn’t this. It was like something out of a magazine. Calm. Expensive. Lived-in, but in a way that said he paid attention to things.

“Come in,” San said, holding the door open for you with that half-smirk of his. “Make yourself at home.”

You stepped in, trying not to gape too much, but the place was... kind of beautiful. Wooden floors. Soft lighting. A couch that looked dangerously comfortable. A candle was lit on the kitchen island — sandalwood and something faintly sweet. It smelled like warmth and confidence.

You were still standing near the doorway when he reappeared — and that’s when your eyes betrayed you.

Gray sweatpants. Low on the hips. Tank top. Barefoot. Hair slightly messy.

You didn’t mean to look down — you really didn’t — but your gaze dropped for half a second, then snapped back up like you got caught stealing. San raised an eyebrow, clearly catching it.

“What?” he asked, all fake innocence.

“Nothing,” you muttered, too quickly, walking past him like your dignity wasn’t hanging by a thread.

He followed you with that smug look that made your face heat up instantly. “You’re a terrible liar.”

“Shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

He flopped onto the couch, spreading out like he owned the world — which, judging by the house, he might. “C’mon. Sit. You hungry?”

“A little,” you admitted, sitting down but keeping just enough space between you two.

He glanced at you sideways. “I’ll order something. But first...” He leaned closer. “That kiss earlier. You meant it, right?”

You blinked, throat tightening. “Didn’t seem like you minded it.”

He gave a low chuckle, then reached out and gently touched your knee — just enough to make your stomach flip. “You’re different, Y/N. Like... I don’t even know how to explain it.”

You weren’t sure what to say. All you knew was that his fingers were warm, his house smelled like something intimate and masculine, and that you might be in trouble.

The good kind of trouble.

———————

You were halfway through some ridiculous rom-com he claimed to hate but kept laughing at, and somehow, the space between you had disappeared.

Not all at once — gradually. First, it was your legs brushing. Then your knee rested against his. Then you leaned a little when you laughed and didn’t pull away. Now, his arm was stretched behind you on the couch, not touching, but definitely there.

“I still don’t get how you picked this movie,” you teased, tossing popcorn at him.

“Because I’m generous and selfless,” he said with a straight face. “Unlike you, clearly.”

“You love this movie.”

“I love watching you watch this movie,” he said smoothly.

You turned to him with a scoff, but he was already looking at you — that kind of look that makes your whole body go still. His lips quirked up just slightly, but there was a different energy now. Slower. Warmer. Eyes darker.

Your breath hitched. You looked away, but it was too late. You felt it — the air between you buzzing.

You shifted just a little closer without meaning to, and when your thigh accidentally brushed against his again... you noticed it. The subtle inhale. The way his jaw flexed.

His legs tensed slightly — you caught it in your peripheral vision — and you weren’t imagining the heat radiating off of him. You knew exactly what that shift meant.

But San? He said nothing. Didn’t even flinch. Just draped his arm over the back of the couch and leaned his head closer to yours, like he hadn’t just gotten hard next to you. Like this was the most normal thing in the world.

“You good?” he asked, voice low.

You swallowed. “Are you?”

That smirk.

“Define ‘good,’” he murmured.

The movie continued to play — distant now — while the air between you simmered. His fingers brushed the back of your shoulder absentmindedly, and even though nothing else happened…

But you couldn't ignore it

San’s arm was wrapped around your shoulders now, your legs tangled loosely with his under the blanket. His chest rose and fell with a kind of stillness that made you think he was trying really, really hard to focus — just not on the movie.

You shifted slightly, adjusting your position — and that’s when you felt it.

…Oh.

You blinked, frozen for a second. There was no way to mistake it. The pressure against your thigh. The tension in his body. Heat crawled up your neck, but instead of panicking — you smiled.

“Are you…” you turned your head, squinting at him through the dim light, “...seriously hard right now?”

His eyes widened. “What—? No— I mean—” He sat up slightly, flustered, trying to pull the blanket a little higher over his lap. His voice cracked, and for the first time… he looked nervous.

You caught a glimpse of his dimples as he laughed under his breath, rubbing the back of his neck. “You weren’t supposed to notice that.” he mumbled.

You raised an eyebrow. “How could I not?”

“I—Look, it’s not—It’s your fault.”

“My fault!?”

“You keep moving around and wearing those shorts and like—” He groaned quietly, cheeks tinged with red. “Whatever. Don’t look at me like that.”

You couldn’t help but grin. Seeing him like this — a little bashful, caught off guard — was new. Kind of endearing. Definitely unforgettable.

You nudged him playfully with your shoulder. “You’re cute when you’re embarrassed.”

He narrowed his eyes at you, trying to reclaim his usual cool demeanor. “I’m never embarrassed.”

Before you could say anything back, he leaned in and kissed you — deep and warm and unhurried, like he was trying to say everything he couldn’t get out in words. His hand slid to your waist, thumb tracing small circles.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, and his breath hitched.

“I shouldn’t be asking this,” he said slowly, almost cautiously, “but... do you want this? Like—me. Not just this moment. I mean… all of it.”

Your heart stilled.

He was looking at you like he was bracing for rejection, eyes darting across your face to catch any flicker of hesitation. It wasn’t just a horny question. It was vulnerable. Real.

You could still feel him — hard against your hip — but his expression told you he wasn’t trying to push anything physical. Not unless you wanted it too.

“I...” you started, unsure how to even form a sentence with him staring at you like that.

He offered the tiniest smile. “You don’t have to say anything. I just—I needed to ask.”

There was a beat of silence.

Then you leaned in again, kissing him slow. Not urgent this time. Just... honest.

“I don’t know what I want yet,” you murmured against his lips, “but I want to find out. With you.”

He let out the softest exhale, like you’d just lifted something off his chest. “Okay,” he whispered. “That’s enough for me.”

You curled into his side after that, the movie still playing faintly in the background, his arm wrapped securely around you. You could feel his heartbeat steadying against your back, his fingers laced with yours again — like they had been at the end of that first night.

And for the first time in a while, it felt okay not to have all the answers..

===============================================

The morning light filtered through the curtains, gently waking you from a peaceful sleep. You shifted in the bed, the familiar warmth of San’s body next to you still present, but he was already awake — you could tell by the faint sound of clattering from the kitchen.

You stretched and sat up slowly, rubbing your eyes. “San?” you called, half-expecting him to still be asleep, but he didn’t respond. You pushed the covers off and slipped into the soft slippers by the bed, the cool floor greeting your feet as you walked toward the kitchen.

When you stepped in, the scene that greeted you was both surprising and oddly endearing: San was in the middle of flipping pancakes, a little messy, but he looked... content. His hair was tousled, and he was wearing only a hoodie and sweatpants, his usual cocky smile replaced with something more relaxed.

“Good morning,” you said, leaning against the doorframe with a grin.

He turned to face you, his eyes softening as they met yours. “Morning, baby,” he said, almost too casually, but there was something different in the way he said it.

You blinked, unsure whether you heard him correctly. “Baby?” you raised an eyebrow, stepping fully into the room now. “Since when do you call me that?”

San smirked, flipping the pancakes onto a plate. “Since now,” he said, his voice light, but there was a playful glint in his eyes. The cockiness was still there, but it wasn’t as sharp — more teasing. “You don’t like it?”

“No, I do,” you replied quickly, feeling warmth spread across your chest. It wasn’t just the cute nickname, but the fact that he was cooking breakfast. Cooking. San. You shook your head with a small laugh. “I didn’t know you could cook.”

“Guess there’s a lot you don’t know about me,” he teased, winking as he set the plate of pancakes in front of you at the kitchen table. He then sat down across from you, his smile genuine. “Eat up. You’re gonna need energy.”

You smiled and took a bite, the pancakes surprisingly delicious. “Wow, these are really good,” you said between bites.

“Don’t act too surprised, I’m full of surprises,” he said, but there was a sincerity behind the words — he wasn’t trying to play it cool this time, just enjoying the moment.

You took another bite, savoring the food, but your curiosity got the best of you. “So what’s the plan for today? I’m guessing you didn’t make me pancakes just to start the day off right…”

San leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest as he watched you, his eyes thoughtful for a moment before his smirk returned. “Well,” he began, his voice almost too casual, “I was thinking you could take the day off school. Just you and me, no distractions.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in surprise. “Wait, what? Take the day off? From school? You want to skip everything just for... what, more pancakes?”

“No,” he said with a little chuckle. “I mean, I could make you pancakes every day if you wanted, but no. I actually wanted to show you something. Something... special.”

The way he said it made your stomach flutter. You had no idea what he had in mind, but the idea of spending a day with him, just the two of you, was too tempting to pass up. “What is it?” you asked, leaning in slightly, intrigued.

San’s smile softened just a little, and he reached over to squeeze your hand. “It’s a surprise. But trust me, it’s worth it.”

You hesitated for a moment, still thinking about school. “I’m going to miss the whole day though…”

“Are you really going to make me cook for you and then go to school?” he teased, but his voice had an edge of seriousness to it, like he really wanted you to say yes. “Come on. Its a Friday. We never get time like this, just the two of us. Don’t you want an entire weekend to just... be with me?”

You bit your lip, considering it. San wasn’t usually the type to make things feel real like this. He was always so cocky, so nonchalant. But now? He seemed sincere, like he really wanted to make this weekend special for the both of you.

Finally, you smiled and leaned back in your chair. “Okay, fine. I’ll skip. But you better make this weekend worth it.”

He grinned, his eyes lighting up with excitement. “Oh, I will. I promise.”

==========================================

"Alright, so what's this surprise?" you finally asked, your curiosity getting the best of you. "You’ve been talking about it all day, but you won’t tell me what it is."

San put down his fork, his eyes flickering with something deeper, something almost serious. He leaned back in his chair and smiled that devil-may-care smile that had always intrigued you. "The surprise? Well, you’re going to meet my parents today."

Your fork stopped halfway to your mouth as you stared at him, processing what he just said. "Wait... meet your parents?" you repeated, voice filled with shock. "Like... your real parents?"

San nodded, his eyes locked on yours with a certain intensity. "Yeah. I thought you might want to meet them. I’ve been wanting to take this step for a while."

A nervous fluttering settled in your stomach. Meeting his parents? That was a big deal. You knew it wasn’t something he took lightly, and honestly, you weren’t sure if you were ready for it. But then again, the way he was looking at you made you feel like it was the right thing to do.

"Are you sure about this?" you asked, swallowing your nerves.

San’s grin widened, and he stood up, walking over to you. He gently took your hand in his. "I’m sure. It’ll be fun, I promise."

He helped you finish breakfast, and the two of you left the house together. The drive to the restaurant was filled with light conversation, but the nervousness you were feeling couldn’t be ignored. You kept wondering how his parents would react. What if they didn’t like you? What if they thought you weren’t good enough for their son?

==============================================

As the car pulled up to a fancy restaurant, San looked over at you with a soft smile. "Ready?"

You nodded, trying to hide your anxiety. "I think so. But I can’t believe you’re actually doing this."

San parked the car and led you inside. The moment you stepped through the doors, you were immediately hit with the warmth of the ambiance — the rich smell of fine food, the sound of soft chatter, and the glow of dimmed lights that made everything feel intimate.

He walked confidently up to a private table in the back where his parents were already seated. As you approached, you saw his mom and dad sitting together, looking like they were having an easy conversation. But when they saw you, the smiles on their faces faltered for just a second before returning, a bit more formal now.

Mom, Dad, this is Y/N," San said, introducing you with a forced casualness. "Y/N, these are my parents."

You smiled nervously at the couple standing before you. They looked kind but also... a little taken aback, like they weren’t expecting you to be there today. The awkward silence was palpable.

“Uh, nice to meet you,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady.

But just as you were starting to feel a bit uncomfortable, San’s mom smiled warmly. "It’s nice to meet you too, dear," she said, her voice kind and welcoming.

But then San’s dad, who had been quiet up until now, looked at you for a second before turning to San. "You never mentioned you were bringing someone with you," he said, his tone a little cold, but it could’ve just been a misunderstanding.

San’s smile faltered for a moment. "Yeah, I was going to mention it, but... things just happened."

The tension in the room was thickening, and you could feel your heart beating faster. This wasn’t going how you expected. San’s parents weren’t exactly making you feel comfortable.

You tried to smile through the discomfort, but San, noticing how stiff you were, reached over and placed his hand gently on your back. "Why don’t we just go into that room over there and catch up?" he suggested, trying to steer things away from the awkwardness.

But just as you were about to follow him, his mom spoke again, this time with a slightly raised voice. "You know, San, you really should have let us know. This is a lot for us to process."

Your stomach dropped. This wasn’t how you imagined meeting his parents. It felt too rushed, too uncomfortable.

San, sensing the tension, gave a quick look to his parents before turning back to you. "I’m sorry about this," he muttered, his jaw clenched. "I thought it’d be fine. But we can go if you want."

Before you could answer, San’s dad spoke again, this time a little more pointedly, "You know, San, you’ve got to start taking things more seriously. I just don’t see you settling down with someone like this."

San’s face hardened, and his grip on your hand tightened. "That’s enough, Dad," he said firmly. "I’ve got this."

The room fell silent. You felt a twinge of discomfort, but you didn’t know how to respond. You could tell this was more than just a simple family visit — it was a deeper tension, a pressure that San was under, one you hadn’t realized existed until now.

And in that moment, as San turned to look at you, you saw a side of him you hadn’t seen before — vulnerable, conflicted. You weren’t sure what to say, but you could tell this wasn’t the surprise he had hoped for you.

As things settled down, San pulled you into another room, away from the tension. "I’m sorry. That wasn’t what I had planned," he said quietly.

You squeezed his hand. “It’s okay. But... this is a lot. Maybe we can talk about it later?”

He nodded, running his hand through his hair. “Yeah. We’ll figure it out.”

The surprise wasn’t what you expected. But even though it was messy, it was real. And you couldn’t help but feel like you were just starting to scratch the surface of what San had been hiding.

——————————————————

The silence in the car was different this time.

Not comfortable. Not playful. Just… heavy.

San had one hand on the wheel, the other resting on the armrest between you. His fingers were drumming against it slowly — not out of boredom, but restlessness. Like he was trying not to think too hard. Like he didn’t want to acknowledge what just happened back at the restaurant.

You hadn’t said a word since you both left.

But it was eating at you.

The words.

“I just don’t see you settling with someone like this.”

They repeated over and over in your head like a skipping record.

When you finally got back to San’s place, you moved around each other quietly — shoes off, keys dropped, jackets hung. It was almost robotic, like neither of you were really there.

You sat on the edge of the couch, hands nervously folded in your lap, while San disappeared into the kitchen. He was pretending to look for something, but you knew he wasn’t. He was stalling. Processing.

You couldn’t take it anymore.

“You okay?” you said softly.

He turned slightly, then walked back into the living room with a bottle of water, sitting down next to you, shoulder to shoulder.

“Yeah.” he said, his tone low and unreadable.

You glanced over at him. His brows were tight, his eyes tense. He was trying to stay cool — like he always did. But there was a flicker there. A crack.

You swallowed.

“…Why did your dad say that?”

San blinked, clearly not expecting you to ask so directly.

You continued, trying to keep your voice from shaking.

“*I don’t see you settling with someone like this.*”

You paused. “Do they really not… accept me?”

He was quiet.

Dead quiet.

For a second, you thought he might lie. Or brush it off. Or make one of his cocky jokes like he always did when things got uncomfortable.

But instead, he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and letting out a slow, heavy breath. His voice came out low, tired, more vulnerable than you’d ever heard it.

“They don’t accept *anyone*, Y/N. Not really.”

You looked at him carefully. He still wasn’t facing you. Just staring down at his hands.

“My dad…” he started, his voice cracking slightly before he cleared it. “He’s not exactly the ‘picture-perfect’ parent people think he is. Neither of them are.”

He finally turned to you — and for the first time since you’d met him, he looked genuinely… small. Not in size. But in spirit.

“Yeah, we’ve got money,” he continued. “Nice cars. A nice place. A restaurant reservation every time I snap my fingers. But none of that means shit when you grow up in a house where nothing you do is ever enough.”

You felt your chest tighten.

San looked away again, biting the inside of his cheek.

“My dad’s… hard. Always has been. He thinks affection is weakness. That showing love makes you soft. Growing up, it was always about image. Grades. Winning. ‘Who’s she? Where’s she from? What does her family do?’ It’s always about status. Appearances.”

His voice was trembling now, but he was doing everything he could to hold it together.

“They gave me this place so I could ‘learn independence,’” he said, gesturing around at the house. “But it was more like they just didn’t want me around. I’m the disappointment, remember?”

“San…” you whispered.

He finally met your gaze.

And there it was — tears pooling in his eyes, barely held back, his jaw clenched so tight you could see the muscle twitching.

“I brought you tonight because I wanted them to see the real me. How I am with you. But I should’ve known better.”

You shifted closer instinctively, placing your hand on his.

“And now I ruined it,” he whispered. “I wanted tonight to be perfect. I wanted to show you off — show them what I found, what makes me happy — and all they did was tear it down.”

The tears broke free then. Just a couple. But enough to make his eyes shine. Enough to leave faint trails down his cheeks.

He looked away, brushing them off quickly with the back of his hand, trying to laugh it off with a dry, broken chuckle.

“Shit, sorry. That’s embarrassing.”

But you didn’t let go of his hand. You gripped it tighter.

“Don’t do that,” you said quietly. “Don’t hide.”

San turned toward you again. His jaw relaxed slightly, lips parting like he wanted to say something — but nothing came out.

So you leaned his head against your chest, your hand on his cheek, gently wiping away a tear with your thumb.

“You didn’t ruin anything,” you said. “You were… amazing tonight. You defended me. You showed up for me. That’s what matters. Not your dad. Not their opinions.”

His breath hitched again, but this time he didn’t pull away.

“I’m proud of you,” you whispered.

And in that moment — even with his walls cracking and everything around him feeling unsteady — San let himself believe it.

He wrapped his arms around you and held you so tight, like he didn’t want to let go.

Like maybe, with you, he didn’t have to.

==============================================

The next morning, San woke you up by dramatically throwing open the bedroom curtains.

"Rise and shine, princess," he said with a smirk, sunlight flooding the room. "We’ve got a very important mission today."

You groaned and pulled the blanket over your head. “What mission requires me to be up at this hour?”

“Retail therapy,” he announced, jumping onto the bed next to you. “I’m spoiling you today. No arguments.”

You peeked at him from under the covers, skeptical. “Is this your way of making up for last night?”

His smirk faltered just a little, his expression softening. “Maybe,” he admitted. “But mostly I just wanna see you smile again.”

That shut you up real quick.

—

The two of you ended up in the heart of the city — surrounded by boutiques, pop-up stalls, vintage stores, and overpriced coffee. The sun was high, the air warm, and San was dressed in a black tee that was doing way too much for your sanity.

First stop: a small thrift shop that smelled like lavender and nostalgia.

You tried on a pair of sunglasses that were three times too big for your face.

San turned and burst out laughing. “Oh my god, you look like a bug.”

You dramatically adjusted them. “A fashionable bug.”

You both cracked up, and in the mirror’s reflection, you caught him watching you — soft smile, eyes lingering.

“Alright, my turn.” He grabbed a ridiculous patterned shirt off the rack and threw it on over his tee. “How do I look?”

You blinked. “Like you’re about to ask me to join your cult.”

“Perfect,” he grinned, “join me.”

You took a picture instead — one you knew you’d scroll back to later just to remember how this day felt.

—

“Okay, you have to stop buying me things,” you said as he handed you a new hoodie from one of the trendier shops.

“Correction,” he said, slinging an arm around your shoulders, “I get to buy you things. It's an honor, actually.”

You rolled your eyes but leaned into him anyway. “You're ridiculous.”

“And you’re spoiled. Get used to it.”

—

A quiet moment fell between you as you stopped in front of a small stand selling handmade bracelets and rings. San picked one up, twirling it between his fingers thoughtfully.

You browsed silently — fingers grazing the soft leather bands, the warm brass.

Then you felt him beside you again.

“This one,” he said, holding out a simple, silver ring with a subtle pattern etched around the band. “It remins me of you.”

You looked at it.

“It’s pretty.”

“Understated. Cool. Kinda stubborn-looking.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Stubborn-looking?”

He grinned. “In the best way.”

You laughed as he slipped it onto your ring finger, like it had always belonged there.

“There. Perfect fit.”

Your heart squeezed a little. And from the way he was looking at you, you knew he felt it too.

—

On the Way Home

The bags rustled in the backseat. Your hand rested in his over the console. His thumb gently brushed your knuckles.

"Hey," he said, glancing at you at a stoplight. "Thanks for coming with me today."

You smiled. "Thanks for dragging me out of bed for it."

"It was worth it," he said. "You’ve been smiling all day.”

You looked out the window, the promise ring he’d given you yesterday catching the light, your chest warm and full.

So this was what it felt like — to be chosen. Not for a game. Not for a secret. But just for you.

——————————————

You sat cross-legged on San’s couch, still buzzing from the shopping trip and the unexpected café run-in. His place smelled like cedarwood and that cologne he always wore—clean, warm, undeniably him. You glanced toward the hallway when he called out, towel slung over his shoulder, “Gonna hop in the shower. Be right out.”

“Okay,” you called back, smiling softly to yourself.

A few minutes passed. The soft rush of water in the background. You shifted, eyes landing on his phone lying facedown on the coffee table.

You didn’t mean to stare. But it was right there.

Your fingers twitched.

Curiosity began to bubble up. You weren’t trying to snoop... but something about today, his mood, it all just made you wonder. Is he always this quiet about everything?

You reached over and picked it up.

Passcode screen. You hesitated.

Then you typed in his birthday. Nope. Your own birthday. Just for fun.

Click. Unlocked.

Your heart jumped. Why would he use my birthday? The thought made your chest flutter a little. But also… now what?

You hovered for a moment, then tapped on Messages.

You weren’t planning to go deep. Just a glance.

You scrolled.

Then you stopped when you saw your name—except it wasn’t your name. It was some ridiculous contact title like “my favorite headace 🤦” and you had to slap your hand over your mouth to muffle your laugh.

What the hell?

You scrolled further, rereading some of the old messages. Sweet, flirty, some even stupid. But all… endearing. Real.

Then you noticed another name: “Kali”.Your stomach tightened.

You tapped.

It wasn’t what you expected. She messaged him a lot. Flirty. Forward. A little desperate, even.

But San?

He was cold. Distant. One-word replies.

"busy." "don't text me like that." "i have a girl."

Still, you stared. If he’s ignoring her… why is she still trying? Why are they all still trying?

Your chest suddenly felt heavy. What if you’re not enough? What if they know something you don’t? What if… this is just how it always ends with him?

You exhaled slowly, shaking the thoughts away. Before you could overthink more, you swiped over to Photos.

Silly. Random. Blurry. But so many of you.

Sleeping on his chest. Wearing his hoodie. Selfies he took of you when you weren’t paying attention. Dumb videos of the two of you laughing at nothing. You couldn’t help it—you smiled. Giggled under your breath.

Then—

Shower shuts off.

Your eyes widened and you scrambled to lock the phone, but you don't think you did. Setting it back down just where it had been before and quickly folding your hands in your lap like nothing happened.

A few seconds later, he walked out, towel drying his hair, shirtless, his sweatpants slung low. His eyes flicked from your face… to the phone.

“You good?” he asked, narrowing his gaze slightly.

You blinked. “Yeah. Why?”

He nodded slowly, stepping closer and grabbing the phone. “Dunno. Just... felt like someone was being nosy.”

You tried to act casual. “Please. I was too busy thinking about how you’re probably using three-in-one shampoo.”

He smirked, but he was still watching you. “You sure you weren’t, I don’t know… checking to see if I’m texting someone that isn’t you?”

Your heart dropped.

You looked at him wide-eyed.

He smiled—that kind of smug smile. “Relax, I’m kidding. Mostly.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to recover, but he sat down beside you, close, hand brushing yours.

“I don’t care about them, Y/N,” he said, suddenly serious. “I’ve got what I want.”

He leaned over and kissed your shoulder, and for a moment, the noise in your head dulled.

Still, something inside you couldn’t help but whisper: Then why do I still feel like I have to compete for you?

==============================================

The room fell quiet, save for the soft hum of the heater and the gentle flicker of the TV that neither of you had really been watching. San leaned into your shoulder, sighing, his damp hair brushing your cheek. It was calm. Too calm, maybe.

“Hey,” he said suddenly, voice low.

You turned slightly to look at him, surprised by the sudden seriousness in his tone.

He didn’t meet your eyes at first, fingers fidgeting with the drawstring of his sweatpants. “Can I tell you something? Like... real?”

You nodded. “Sure.”

He paused for a second longer than you expected, like the words were catching in his throat. “I don’t really let people in,” he admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “Like, ever. Not really. Not like this.”

You stared at him, heart starting to thump.

“I’ve had girls,” he continued. “Plenty. But it was never like this. Not where I care if they text me when they get home. Or—” He laughed under his breath, rubbing the back of his neck. “—not where I hand over my phone like it’s nothing. Not where I give a shit if I screw it up.”

He looked at you now. “And I know I almost did. Multiple times. I’ve been reckless with you. I know that.”

You didn’t speak—just listened.

“I want to get it right this time,” he said quietly. “With you.”

That flicker of honesty—the crack in his cocky armor—stirred something deep in your chest. You reached out and took his hand, lacing your fingers with his, grounding him.

“I know,” you whispered. “That means something.”

He looked at your joined hands like he couldn’t believe they were real. Then: “I feel like if I mess this up, I’ll never forgive myself.”

You didn’t respond. Just leaned in slowly and pressed your lips to his. Soft, slow. Not out of lust—out of quiet, aching emotion.

He deepened it, pulling you in by the waist, and soon you were back in his lap, arms wrapped around his neck, the kiss deepening into something more.

But then—

His phone buzzed.

Once.

Twice.

You both paused. He reached for it casually, unlocking it without a second thought.

Then his whole expression changed.

You watched his jaw tighten.

“San?” you asked.

He didn’t answer right away. Just stared at the screen. Then, finally, he flipped it toward you.

“Kali” .+1 New Message

“So you’re really gonna ghost me after everything? Thought you were different.”

You blinked. “What does she mean... after everything?”

He stared at you, mouth parting slightly. “Y/N—”

You pulled back.

“No—don’t do that,” he said quickly, grabbing your hand. “I didn’t do anything with her. I swear. She’s just… she’s obsessed. I talked to her once—months ago. That’s it. I told her I was with you. I’ve ignored her since.”

But your heartbeat was loud in your ears now. “Then why is she talking like that?”

“She’s manipulative,” he said firmly. “It’s what she does.”

You could feel your chest tightening again.

“I’m being honest with you,” San insisted. “I’ve only been serious about one person. You.”

You looked down at your lap. “I want to believe you.”

“Then do,” he said gently. “Please.”

He cupped your cheek, trying to meet your eyes. “Tell me what to do to prove it. I’ll do it. You just—say the word.”

There was a long silence.

And then, like a whisper:

“Okay,” you said. “I believe you.”

But you didn’t realize until you said it that your voice was shaking.

You told him you believed him.

But the weight in your chest said otherwise.

You sat there, stiff, San still holding your hand as if afraid to let go. He studied your face, trying to read it, trying to figure out what you weren’t saying.

“I can tell you don’t,” he finally muttered. “Not really.”

You blinked. “I said I believe you.”

“Yeah. But your eyes are screaming at me.”

You opened your mouth, then closed it again.

Because maybe he wasn’t wrong.

San leaned back, hand falling from yours. “You think I’m some walking joke, huh? Player boy makes good girl fall, still sleeps around behind her back—”

“I didn’t say that,” you snapped, finally meeting his gaze. “But what do you expect me to think? Girls still texting you like they have history with you—”

“Because they’re desperate,” he cut in, voice rising. “Because they want something that I’m not giving them anymore.”

You flinched at his tone.

His jaw ticked. “You know what sucks? I tell you the truth. I open up to you. I show you my whole goddamn heart, and you still look at me like I’m lying.”

“It’s not that simple,” you whispered. “You made it complicated.”

There was silence—heavy and suffocating.

Then San stood up.

He ran a hand through his hair, pacing once before stopping in front of you.

“You went through my phone, didn’t you?”

You froze.

“I didn’t tell you the passcode,” he said, quieter now. “But it was unlocked when I came out. You don’t trust me.”

Your lips parted—nothing came out.

“You don’t trust me,” he repeated, like saying it hurt.

“I wanted to know what I was getting myself into,” you shot back, defensive now. “Is that a crime? I’ve been nothing but honest—.”

“You don’t trust me,” he said again. This time, there was no anger in his voice. Just something else.

Defeat.

“You know what, that’s fine,” he muttered. “You don’t have to. But don’t pretend like this is some fairy tale. You want to keep looking for reasons to doubt me? Go ahead. I’m done trying to prove I’m not that guy.”

Your throat tightened. “So what, you’re just giving up?”

He turned toward the hallway. “I’m not giving up. I’m stepping back before I fuck this up more.”

“San—”

But he was already gone, disappearing into his room, the sound of the door closing behind him echoing louder than anything else.

And just like that, the warmth of the day, the softness of the morning, the laughter in the mall — all of it vanished. Like it never happened.

You were alone again.

This time, by choice. His.

—————

The door clicked softly behind you as you stepped into the guest room.

The sheets were perfectly folded, the room untouched — unfamiliar. It was colder here. Not just the temperature, but everything. The air, the silence. Like you’d stepped into a space that wasn’t meant for you.

But you laid down anyway.

You didn’t cry. Not yet. You stared at the ceiling, blinking slowly, your thoughts moving too fast for tears. Every moment from the day — his dimpled smile, the laughter in the mall, the way he spun you around and kissed you like you were his favorite thing in the world — all of it looped in your head and collided with his voice when he said, “You don’t trust me.”

And it wasn’t that you didn’t want to. You just didn’t know how to silence the part of you that kept preparing for the fall.

Still, you hated how it ended. Hated that you were now lying on a guest bed in the house of someone who used to hold you like you were his.

You turned on your side, curled into yourself, and tried to sleep — but all you could feel was the space between you.

===============================================

You stepped into the kitchen slowly the next morning, the smell of coffee greeting you first.

San was already there, shirt slightly wrinkled, his hair still damp from the shower. He didn’t look up right away — just stirred the sugar into his mug like it had all his focus.

The silence was suffocating.

Then, without looking, he said, “Why’d you sleep in the guest room?”

Your stomach flipped.

“I figured,” you said cautiously, “after what happened last night... you didn’t want me near you.”

He looked up at that — slowly. His jaw tightened before he set the spoon down.

“I was mad. Not at you. Just... everything.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, nervous.

“I shouldn’t have raised my voice,” he admitted. “I hate that I made you feel like you weren’t welcome here. That’s on me.”

You nodded slowly, but your eyes stayed on the floor.

“But...” He moved closer, voice softer now. “Y/N, if we’re gonna keep doing this — if this is real — you have to trust me. I’m not gonna be perfect. I’ll screw up. I’ll get overwhelmed. But I’m not hiding anything from you. I’m not playing a game.”

You looked up at him.

He stepped forward, brushing his fingers gently down your arm. “And if you ever feel like something’s off, just ask me. Don’t search for proof like I’m already guilty.”

Your throat felt tight again, but this time for a different reason.

You nodded, slowly. “Okay.”

His lips twitched into a small, tired smile. “Okay.”

He opened his arms, almost hesitantly.

And when you stepped into them, it felt different.

Not like the day before — playful and new. This felt heavy, fragile, raw. Like both of you were choosing to try again, even though it hurt.

——————

Masterpost   Next

[averytirednerd]

Just watched the 1x07 sneak peek

and AAAAAAAA

My week’s already been pretty crappy so far, and I desperately needed this 😭

Nearly two minutes of Alastor and Charlie, ft. them actually discussing things I wanna hear about!!!

These are some of my favorite things from the scene:

Charlie’s angry facial expressions towards Alastor are truly a highlight of this clip. She looks adorable wrapped up in her little blanket burrito, which is a plus.

I also adore the fact that it’s Alastor who’s trying to cheer Charlie up, and get her to stop wallowing in self-loathing (whether it’s just b/c it helps him or not, I still like it). I wonder if he took it upon himself to or the others nudged him in that direction.

I also love Alastor’s passive-aggressive comments in the beginning of the clip. He seems really frustrated and it’s hilarious to see.

“Who’s joking?”

THE WAY HE JUST APPEARED AND THE WAY AMIR TALAI DELIVERED THE LINE AND CHARLIE FELL OFF THE BED AND-

I like it :]

Ngl I’m disappointed in myself for deriving so much joy from watching Alastor be all silly and mess around on the bed. BUT ALSO I MEAN C’MON HIS LEGS WERE KICKING BACK AND FORTH WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME??? Not to mention he’s being all silly like this, just vibing, while Charlie’s having a little meltdown. Very fun juxtaposition to see.

YESSS FINALLY SOMEONE PROPERLY MENTIONING THE WHOLE SMILING THING, I WAS WONDERING HOW LONG IT’D TAKE FOR THAT TO BE BROUGHT UP

And the reason why I wanted someone to question him, so we’d get to hear Al’s response. The look into Al’s thought processes is amazing! It’s exactly what I thought he’d say, and I’m pleased with that now being checked off my list of things I wanted from this season. I’m so happy that Charlie knows this now too.

And last but certainly not least… “I know something you don’t know~”

WHAT? WHAT IS IT, ALASTOR? HOW DARE YOU LEAVE ME HANGING 😭

Edit: Sitting there, after having rewatched the clip like 20 more times post making-this, it finally clicked that he’s probably talking about the exterminator. You know, the dead one. As the lovely comment down below has pointed out, he says it after Charlie mentions the exterminators being “invincible.” Now it’s just a matter of whether he tells her, if he does then how, and how exactly Charlie reacts to this information. Can’t wait :]

[the---hermit]

03|08|2024

This has been the first week in which I have felt properly on holiday. I got to spend part of my week eating focaccia and chilling with @ben-learns-smth, which was the absolute highlight of my month. So much serotonine and joy for my brain. And after half a day in the car I am now on holiday with my parents. We are staying in a new place we have never been to, and tho the actual place we are in was quite disappointing I am excited for all the exploration we can do around here. Hopefully it won't be too hot to visit everywhere I'd like to go to, but we'll see. For now I am just chilling with my book eating berries and I could never complain about that.

📖: The Hollow Places by T. Kingfisher

[roscolate]

Hi, everyone 👋🏻 I am back.

First off, I just want to thank each and every one of you who commented on my last post and who have kindly reached out to me. The grace and support you all have given me means a lot to me, and it reminds me of all the good we have in this community. I hope all of y’all who have been similarly affected are doing alright ❤️

Although I have a clearer head now, I’ve honestly been wrestling with what to say and how to express how I feel about the whole Dreamy situation. Finding out that a fellow mutual- someone who I genuinely thought fondly of, had wonderful interactions with, and was responsible for one of the biggest highlights of my involvement here- has been supporting and portraying something that shouldn’t be normalized or promoted in any capacity…was quite a shock to say the least. And it’s been a hard thing for me to wrap my head around. I just feel…sad and disappointed.

It’s been hard looking back knowing what I know now, especially at the fanart he made of my fic. It was something that brought me such joy, gratitude, awe and pride. But now, I just can’t look at it the same. And that hurts. Part of me feels bad for feeling this grief, but I just feel like I needed to get it off my chest in order to properly move on.

And I do take comfort in knowing that I’m not alone in feeling sad and disappointed. Again, I can’t thank y’all enough for the love and support you’ve given me. While I don’t feel 100%, I have assurance that these waves will pass. I will keep doing what I love and what makes me happy– writing and providing happy, wonderful, emotional experiences to everyone who reads my fics. I love you all, and just remember: we are all in this together ❤️

Now…here’s some cute, wholesome hugs from our beloved bros (consider these GIFS as my way of sending y’all virtual hugs as well 🫂❤️)

[hayatheauthor]

Crafting Authentic Child Characters: From Toddlers to Tweens

When it comes to writing captivating stories, it's not just about the plot or setting—it's about the characters that bring your narrative to life. Among those characters, child characters hold a special place. 

Child characters, when done right, can hold a special place in your readers’ hearts. Think of YA series like Harry Potter or Percy Jackson- these books featured eleven and twelve year olds but their captivating tales and realistic characteristics drew us in. However, when done wrong, child characters can often ruin immersion and make readers feel annoyed due to their unrealistic representation. 

In this guide, I’ve decided to explore the different pubescent age groups you often see in literature alongside tips to help you craft authentic child characters. 

Understanding Toddler Characters

The toddler years—a phase characterized by tiny tots exploring the world with wide-eyed wonder. Writing toddler characters can be a delightful yet challenging task. These pint-sized adventurers, typically aged 1 to 3 years, are bundles of curiosity and emotion.

Characterizing Toddlers

Toddlers are known for their limited communication skills. Their vocabulary might consist of a few words or adorable gibberish. They often express themselves through gestures, facial expressions, and body language. Embracing their simplicity is key when bringing them to life on the page. Toddlers view the world with fresh eyes and uncomplicated hearts, finding joy in the little things like chasing butterflies or playing with bubbles.

Portraying Toddler Dialogue

When writing dialogue for toddler characters, simplicity is the name of the game. Toddler speech is basic and straightforward, often composed of short sentences or one-word responses. Capturing their enthusiasm is essential. Toddlers can be highly expressive, so use exclamation marks and enthusiastic language to convey their excitement. It's all about experiencing life's wonders, one small step at a time.

Writing toddler characters offers an opportunity to explore the world through innocent eyes and infuse your story with their unique brand of wonder and emotion.

Toddlers In Flashbacks 

I would like to quickly mention that people don’t retain most of their memories from their toddler years, so if you’re trying to create a plot point surrounding a situation your character witnessed as a toddler it is important to consider whether a child that age would realistically even remember such an event. 

Capturing the Essence of Children (4-7 years)

Children aged 4-7 are often brimming with creativity, curiosity, and a penchant for storytelling. Think back to times when you used to mix up shampoos in the bathroom to make ‘potions’ or create weirdly intricate plots for your ‘house’ games. 

Characterizing Young Children

At this stage, children are developing rapidly, both physically and cognitively. They have an eagerness to understand the world around them, which often leads to a vivid imagination. Their capacity to believe in the extraordinary—whether it's magical creatures, talking animals, or hidden treasures—creates a wonderful opportunity for storytelling.

Young children are naturally curious and possess a boundless well of energy. Their interests can be diverse, ranging from dinosaurs and superheroes to fairies and space exploration. To capture their essence:

Highlighting Imaginative Play: Young children often engage in elaborate make-believe games. These imaginative adventures can be a goldmine for character development.

Embracing Curiosity: Encourage their inquisitiveness about the world. Show characters asking questions, seeking answers, and discovering new things.

Crafting Dialogues and Actions

When crafting dialogues and actions for children aged 4 to 7, it's important to consider their evolving language skills. Unlike toddlers, who may struggle with pronunciation, characters in this age group can typically speak properly. This means they won't say "sowwy" for "sorry" or "wuv" for "love."

Embracing Storytelling: Children this age love to narrate their adventures and dreams. Use storytelling within your story to reflect their imaginative nature.

Curious Questioning: Show characters exploring, asking "why," and expressing wide-eyed wonder. Utilize their questions and observations to drive the plot or reveal new information.

Navigating the World of Pre-Teens (8-12 years)

Many captivating young adult series begin with characters in their pre-teen years, allowing readers to witness their growth and development throughout the books. This is because writing characters in this age group, typically aged 8 to 12, offers a unique exploration of budding independence and the influence of peer relationships.

Your characters are no longer seen as little kids but at the same time don’t have the freedom associated with adolescence. 

Characterizing Pre-Teens

Pre-teen characters are in the process of discovering their identity. They're developing a sense of self and often begin to assert their independence from parents or caregivers. While their childlike innocence remains, they're also exposed to a wider range of experiences and emotions.

These characters may show an increased interest in friendships, hobbies, and their expanding world. To capture the essence of pre-teens:

Embrace Growing Independence: Pre-teens may want more autonomy in decision-making. Explore their budding independence as they take small steps toward self-reliance.

Peer Relationships: Friendships become more critical during this stage. Show characters navigating the challenges and joys of making and maintaining friendships.

Crafting Dialogues and Actions

When crafting dialogues and actions for pre-teen characters, consider their evolving perspectives and emerging voices:

Balancing Childlike Wonder: While they're growing up, pre-teens still retain their childlike curiosity and wonder. Don't shy away from showcasing these traits.

Beginning Adolescence: Pre-teens may start experiencing pre-adolescent changes. This could include minor mood swings, increased self-awareness, and curiosity about the world's complexities.

Tweens: Balancing Innocence and Growing Up (13-14 years)

As we move forward into the world of tweens, we encounter characters aged 13 to 14—the age where innocence meets the beginnings of adolescence. Crafting characters in this age group offers an exciting opportunity to explore the challenges and interests of this transitional stage.

Characterizing Tweens

Tweens are on the cusp of adolescence, and their experiences reflect this delicate balance between childhood and growing up. They're often navigating the complexities of middle school, peer dynamics, and a burgeoning sense of self.

Tweens may still possess a childlike wonder, but they're increasingly exposed to more mature themes. To capture the essence of tweens:

Emerging Independence: Tweens may desire more autonomy and may challenge authority figures as they assert their individuality.

Peer Influence: Friendships take on even greater significance. Characters in this age group may grapple with peer pressure and the need to fit in.

Crafting Dialogues and Actions

When crafting dialogues and actions for tween characters, consider the delicate balance they strike:

Retaining Childlike Charm: Tweens often have endearing quirks and moments of innocence. Don't lose sight of these traits.

Exploring Pre-Adolescence: As they begin to encounter the complexities of growing up, characters in this age group may exhibit curiosity about more mature topics while still experiencing occasional moments of youthful naivety.

Writing tween characters allows for a captivating exploration of the liminal space between childhood and adolescence, where they teeter on the brink of exciting self-discovery.

Creating Memorable Child Characters

Now that we've explored the unique characteristics and development stages of child characters, it's time to discuss how to craft memorable and well-rounded child characters, regardless of their age.

Developing Distinct Personalities

Each child character you create should have a distinct personality, just like any adult character. Think about their likes, dislikes, fears, and dreams. Are they adventurous, introverted, mischievous, or kind-hearted? Consider how their personalities align with their age group.

Character Growth and Development

While child characters start with a certain set of traits, they should also experience growth and change throughout your story. Whether it's learning important life lessons or maturing in their outlook, character arcs are just as relevant for children as they are for adults.

Examples from Literature

To better understand how to create memorable child characters, let's turn to some examples from literature. Take, for instance, Scout Finch from "To Kill a Mockingbird" by Harper Lee. She's curious, brave, and compassionate, making her a beloved child character who evolves throughout the novel.

Or consider the character of Matilda from Roald Dahl's "Matilda." She's an exceptionally bright and resilient child character who learns to harness her unique abilities.

These examples show how well-crafted child characters can leave a lasting impact on readers.

Crafting Authentic Child Dialogue: Dos and Don'ts

Writing dialogue for child characters can be both challenging and rewarding. It's important to strike the right balance between authenticity and readability. Here are some dos and don'ts to keep in mind:

Dos:

Capture Their Perspective: Remember that children see the world differently. Describe events and surroundings through their eyes. Use simple language when necessary to reflect their understanding.

Embrace Authenticity: Children may use slang, colloquialisms, or unique phrases. Incorporate these sparingly to add authenticity to their speech.

Show Growth: As your child characters mature throughout the story, their speech should evolve too. Gradually introduce more complex vocabulary and sentence structures.

Reflect Emotions: Children express emotions openly. Use dialogue to convey their feelings, whether it's unbridled enthusiasm, innocent curiosity, or the occasional temper tantrum.

Don'ts:

Avoid Stereotypes: While children may display certain traits based on their age, avoid falling into clichéd stereotypes. Each child is unique, so give your characters depth beyond typical traits.

Steer Clear of Exaggeration: While child characters can be quirky and funny, be cautious not to make their dialogue overly cute or exaggerated, which can become grating to readers.

Limit 'Baby Talk': Especially for older child characters, avoid excessive use of baby talk or mispronunciations unless it's essential to the story.

Don't Oversimplify: While simplicity is key, don't underestimate your young readers. Children can understand complex emotions and ideas if presented in a relatable way.

By keeping these dos and don'ts in mind, you can create dialogue that feels authentic, engages young readers, and adds depth to your child characters.

Crafting authentic child characters can be a fulfilling journey for writers. Whether you're depicting the innocence of a toddler, the imaginative spirit of a young child, the evolving personality of a tween, or the budding independence of a pre-teen, these characters can add depth and heart to your stories.

Remember, each child character is a unique individual with their own quirks, dreams, and potential for growth.

I hope this blog on Crafting Authentic Child Characters: From Toddlers to Tweens will help you in your writing journey. Be sure to comment any tips of your own to help your fellow authors prosper, and follow my blog for new blog updates every Monday and Thursday.  

Looking For More Writing Tips And Tricks? 

Are you an author looking for writing tips and tricks to better your manuscript? Or do you want to learn about how to get a literary agent, get published and properly market your book? Consider checking out the rest of Haya’s book blog where I post writing and publishing tips for authors every Monday and Thursday! And don’t forget to head over to my TikTok and Instagram profiles @hayatheauthor to learn more about my WIP and writing journey! 

[djuvlipen]

But as surrogate mothering is normalized, it is crucial to highlight the classist and racist premises on which it is founded and its destructive consequences for the children thus produced and for women. A worrisome one is the presence of a number of “suspended children,” who, having been denied, for various reasons, legal certification in the countries where the “intended” parents reside, or having been born with disabilities, are rejected by both the surrogate mother and the commissioning couple. A Reuters investigative report has also found that through the internet adoptive parents, at least in the US, can dispose of children adopted abroad, without any difficulty, through a practice called “private rehoming” that is totally unregulated. Even more worrisome is the evidence that some surrogate children are channeled to the organs market, for once the transaction has taken place no institutional oversight checks what happens to the children marketed this way, who in most cases are taken to other regions, thousands of miles away from the place of their birth. ... While defenders portray it as a humanitarian gesture, a gift of life enabling couples who cannot have children to experience the joys of parenting, the fact is that it is women from the poorest regions of the world who generally take on this task, and surrogacy would not exist except for the monetary compensations it fetches. Quite properly, then, in “Surrogates and Outcast Mothers: Racism and Reproductive Politics in the Nineties” (1993), Angela Davis has argued that surrogacy is continuous with the breeding practices that were enforced on the American slave plantations, with poor women in both cases being destined to forfeit their children, once born, for the profit of the rich.

-- Silvia Federici, "Surrogate Motherhood: A Gift of Life or Maternity Denied?" in Beyond the Periphery of the Skin

[nalyra-dreaming]

Hi Nalyra

How do you interpret the title of 2x06 "Like the Light by Which God Made the World Before He Made Light"? I mean the title itself and also how it highlights the events/themes of the episode.

This is the only episode title that I don't really get. Sorry if stupid :((

Not stupid.

Soooo, to answer this properly, I might need to expand a bit on the title.

The title is part of a quote by Louis, said after they kill Lestat, and after Louis rejects Claudia for it - and she begs him to love her still. In the books (and, arguably, in the show also since the words in the diary do not fit and they said they would revisit "murder night" and I think that will happen next season) it is Claudia who kills Lestat. And she tricks Louis into doing so, literally manipulates him into it (because she thinks him easier to handle), something that is also revealed through her diary, in "Merrick". Louis gives in to her crying, begging him to not leave her, and then Louis goes on about embarking about the "the great adventure of our lives." (as also heard in 1x07).

The quote that follows is this:

"The great adventure of our lives. What does it mean to die when you can live until the end of the world? And what is ‘the end of the world’ except a phrase, because who knows even what is the world itself? I had now lived in two centuries, seen the illusions of one utterly shattered by the other, been eternally young and eternally ancient, possessing no illusions, living moment to moment in a way that made me picture a silver clock ticking in a void: the painted face, the delicately carved hands looked upon by no one, looking out at no one, illuminated by a light which was not a light, like the light by which God made the world before He had made light. Ticking, ticking, ticking."

Louis, disillusioned, you could say, to put it plainly.

And I think that fits very beautifully with what we see of him in 2x06.

Because Louis is quite disillusioned with the "adventure". Disillusioned and rejecting the connection to Madeleine. Disillusioned and disappointed by his hobby, by Armand, by the theater... he risked it all for Claudia (and regretted it almost immediately in 2x01 and in book canon), and in 2x06 he is at a very, very low point.

But there is another layer to this, a layer the show chose to -literally- illuminate.

There is this:

Claudia, in the impossible light.

In the light Madeleine sees her in, just before Madeleine is made. An impossible light, like... the light by which God made the world before he made light. Maybe :)

The light that pulled Madeleine back to "not go", as she is made by not-god, to live not in the light.

It is the very anti-thesis of Louis' disillusionment, it is hope, and joy.

Mirror, mirror.

[secret-third-thing]

Now I'm curious about those reasons

All the reasons kind of tangle together. And I'll be honest about how I feel. This is normally not the kind of thing I'd really talk about on tumblr.com because I HATE admitting im sad (hi, I'm sad), but the truth is that I feel like I've been kept it all in for the sake of trying to be chill b/c this fandom is already dramatic af. But you asked and I feel okay enough finally to talk about what's going on. Spoiler: most of it is not fandom related LOL.

Reason #1. My cat is terminally ill. Every since September of last year (right after my grandmother died), my cat has been sick and recently I learned he has large cell lymphoma. This is a very aggressive, incurable, low-remission rate cancer. It's expensive to treat and stressful to manage. I've been plugged into all fandom a bit less overall because of this. And my two week "sabbatical" from tumblr was mostly because of the slew of appointments, phone calls, and insurance handling I have had to do. On top of a work trip. It's just me handling this. No partner to lend a hand. 😭 I never really talked about this very much b/c I hate hate hate hate hate feeling vulnerable. But I think this ultimately was a disservice because a lot of people did not realize what I have been going through.

Reason #2. I'm focusing more on original fiction these days! Which is fun and exciting, but also tough. I try to balance fanfic with original fiction, which means my bandwidth for fic is lower. I wind up writing only things that bring me maximum joy (read: WEIRD). This also means that the fic I read is mostly the fic of the people who are talking to me on a day to day basis. This happens to be folks who write mostly non-azris stuff. Some do write some azris and I have been slowly chipping away at that TBR so I can properly support. (Also I've been in a graduate level writing class on top of all this which takes up my time). 😩

Reason #3. This is the tough one. And the one that I have been avoiding talking about because I don't really know how to address it. I have been a part of the Azris community for years and wanted to be a part of it because they 1) loved eris and 2) wrote weird shit b/c I also write weird shit 😂 But like every ship in every fandom, dynamics change. Interests change etc. There was a situation where someone in the azris community, who as far as I know is not on tumblr, more or less made a comment that was like "I wish the city you (STT) are in would be decimated" and to me, implied that by extension wanted me dead, and that really, really hurt my feelings. It also hurt that it seemed like other people didn't see an issue with that behavior. I didn't want to ask people to pick sides, so I just let that be because life is too short etc etc. I get the sense that that person was going through a tough time and so I hope they are doing okay.

The other thing is that I felt like I got pushback was for being an eris multishipper. I like Azris because (in my mind) it isn't canon (just like I don't think Erislain or Neris will be canon). And sometimes I think there was tension between those who absolutely believed it would be canon and those of us who just were there for vibes. I think there was also a feeling that I didn't like Azris all that much, which to other people's credit, 1) I am Blunt af and come off as intense via messaging and 2) I was vocal about liking erislain for a hot minute. I think what sucked was that folks did not know or remember (probably didn't know) that a lot of the work that I do for eris week IS reading Azris fiction, writing nice things about the works and the authors, and trying to spread the word. If you take a look at the blog we had a bazillion highlights last year. I had to ask for help on a couple of fics because I took on too much. I thought I kept my multishipping vibes to a contained space. And you know what maybe I didn't. And I can understand if people felt that way. I also probably should have been more vocally supportive of Azris on my own blog beyond reblogs. I've always been shitty about commenting and it's something I've been working on improving. Ask me about commenting anxiety.

Anyway This all kinda compounded in me just slowly disengaging with Azris, which probably made everyone else feel bad and then it's just a doom spiral because no one thinks the other person likes them. It also didn't help that the other ships within Eris were especially welcoming and so I of course leaned into that hard b/c I felt so isolated. Again furthering the spiral of doom.

At the end of the day, I'm always gonna support Azris because it IS a wonderful corner of the fandom. The people there are passionate, creative, and SO DAMN Talented. And if you want to join the community, DO IT!!!!!! I can always put you in touch with lovely, welcoming folks. I also have Azris fics planned 👀 and will continue to do the read/highlight/etc stuff on the Eris week blog because those creators deserve all the love in the world.

But yeah. No one is at fault. I am just feeling isolated and working out the best way to proceed.