#also helpful tip that even if you do not have your age listed in your bio that if you link your instagram there...... i can see that too

[tired-biscuit]

18+ mdni / fem!reader

I think Bakugou would do a little grunt whenever you'd touch his dick.

It's bound to happen more frequently if it's a sexual touch, of course. Like, when you find yourself on your knees in front of him - pressing a soft kiss onto his sensitive, pink tip, for example. Messily smearing the bead of pre-cum with your lips before taking a couple of inches of his cock down your tight throat. Sucking him so hard, then, that he feels the need to repeat the noise and lace it with a dirty curse, before he spills much too fast, much too soon for his liking; making you taste the bitter salt of his cum with a furrowed brow and a frown.

He grunts whenever your legs wrap around his waist, and he gets to sink balls deep inside of your wet warmth for the first time after literal days of hard work and that wretched prohero schedule of his; holding you in a firm, albeit loving mating press that lets him see you entirely as he at long last plunges into your soft cunt and proceeds to screw your soul out with that steady pat, pat, pat.

And he also grunts as he bends you over and makes that first contact with your sticky slit after leering for ages at how beautiful you look; attired in that pretty dress he only sees you pull out of your closet on date nights - the dress that always seems to end up hiked up around your waist by the time you come back home from the restaurant.

He grunts as you reach out to stroke him with only one of your hands before bed to make him relax; right over his underwear until that damp patch forms on the dark cotton, and you're smirking at him like a cat when your thumb grazes it. Grunts as he wakes up in the middle of the night and feels the need to fuck your thighs and turn you into a whining mess just to get back at you for earlier. Grunts as you straddle him then, too; the intent to sit on his cock and ride it into bliss riddling your sleepy features.

He always grunts at things like that.

But sometimes, a grunt slips out when you could just be messing around with him. Sure, Katsuki might not seem like a person to enjoy a silly thing like that - having a woman merely poking and playing with his dick, like it's a toy - but he endures it all because it's you who does it. After all, comfort has long since settled inside of his heart after years of being in an established relationship.

So, they're playfully innocent things. Him groaning as you absent-mindedly rub your ass against his crotch when you pass by him to get to the sink in your little kitchen; mind working on assembling a grocery list instead of thinking about sin, whilst he's left there to sweat and strain his pyjama bottoms just from a mere brush.

Your hand slipping when a rare opportunity shows up and you can shower together, making him groan as you cover both his skin and your own in strawberry-scented foam that makes him scrunch his nose in faux disapproval until he feels the need to call you childish, even though the corners of his lips are twitching upwards during it.

Sometimes, it's just you hiking your leg over his waist when you cuddle on the couch, putting it right there with no aim to arouse whatsoever. You're both trying to watch a movie you'll perhaps - probably not - finish for once; reaching the credits without falling asleep, and he's already grunting, softly scolding you that the weight of your leg makes his balls hurt, making you laugh.

And sometimes, he grunts just because he's so tired as you unbuckle his belt to help him undress after an especially rough day at work. Your knuckle runs over the zipper of his pants by pure accident whilst you drag it down, and the sound comes out deep from the back of his throat because he just can't help it.

Just like he can't help the grunt of relief when you finally drag him into bed a couple of minutes later; cuddling him to sleep until his face is nuzzled right against your chest, expression content because he's finally home.

#katsuki bakugou #bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugo smut #bakugou smut #bnha smut #bnha x reader #katsuki bakugo #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #biscuit drabbles #he's heavy on my mind today good lord

[alphabetboyluvr]

PALLADIUM - MYG

title credit: palladium- greyson chance

pairing: dilf!yoongi x reader // friends to lovers, slowburn, eventual smut

synopsis:

min yoongi is urgent.  in the way he bites his nails down to the bed, and the way his sore fingers type out desperate sentences just minutes before deadlines, he is urgent. how he prepares jaehyun’s day bag before grandma comes by, and how he double checks everything is packed, he is urgent.  the requests for you to watch over jaehyun each and every deadline day are, always, predictably, urgent. but the way min yoongi falls in love with you is slow. gradual. tepid. until, like everything with min yoongi, it becomes urgent.  

wordcount: 3.2K

note from holly: this was a prompt from a winner of one of my kofi quizzes! was supposed to be a drabble but now we are looking at a lil three parter. no smut in this part, just setting up our dynamics <3 yoongi is a boy dad! idc! argue with the wall!!!!

PART TWO // PART THREE

minors dni // cross posted to wattpad

"I wouldn't ask if it wasn't urgent," Yoongi pleads across the bakery counter. Nails bitten down to the bed, he's got bags underneath his eyes. Hasn't been sleeping well these days. Hasn't really been sleeping at all.

"I told you last time—"

"I know, I know," he sighs, pushing off of the countertop and pacing a few steps away, raking a stressed palm through his long, dark hair. Dishevelled, he hasn't had it cut in a while. You'll never tell him, but you think it looks better this way. "Look, it's the last time. I promise. I just really fucked it this time."

With a raised brow, you fold your arms over your chest. The apron beneath you bunches a little awkwardly, but you've never cared much for composure around Yoongi. Have simply known him too long and seen him through too many clumsy stages of life to be bothered. 

Tipping your head back, you exhale a sharp breath from the very depths of your lungs. 

"You are so lucky Jaehyun is an angel baby," you eventually say, shaking your head as you reluctantly agree. "What time do you need me?"

"Deadline is at midnight," Yoongi says, "So whenever you can get to mine, really. Mum has him till seven, but then she's got Bitch'n'Stitch—"

"Hey," you scold. "My mum goes to that knitting group, too."

"I'm not calling her a bitch—but I've heard their conversations," Yoongi reminds you. He swears they don't actually do any knitting (as if they haven't handmade half of Jaehyun's closet). Thinks they spend the entire time gossiping. And while yes, they do do a lot of gossiping, they can multitask. Unlike him, apparently. "But fine. She has her knitting group at seven."

Yoongi will never simply call it a knitting group, if he can help it. 

Bitch'n'Stitch is his go-to, but he's also partial to Stitching Hour. 

Last week, you'd just gone on a rant about how it's inappropriate to insinuate that all women of a certain age from your small town are witches—"Women used to get burned at the stake, Yoongi. Burned!"—so he knows better than to say it out loud today, even if it makes him laugh whenever he thinks about them knitting on broomsticks.

"I'll probably be outta here at just gone six," you tell him. 

It's the late shift, so you're responsible for closing and cleaning up, but after two years of part-time work alongside your studies, you're a dab hand. Can action off every item on the to-do list in record time, and to a standard even your boss can't achieve. 

You're wasted on a small town like this, but someone's gotta do it. 

"That's fine," Yoongi nods. "I just need to straighten this essay out and get my citations done. You can go as soon as I'm finished—and hey, you can order takeout. I'll pay."

Knowing Yoongi, he's probably surviving on instant noodles, and spending all of his money on Red Bull and Jaehyun's meticulously planned diet. 

Jaehyun's been off formula for about two months, now, and Yoongi is terrified of feeding him the wrong thing. By the looks of his slightly skinnier-than-usual frame, he's the one in need of a good meal.

And so, as you're doing your final tasks of the day, you don't bin the breads that need to be chucked. Instead, you bag them up. All of them. The pastries, too. Will just have to hope Yoongi has freezer space.

By the time you make it home, you've only got ten minutes to spare for a quick shower before you need to rush to Yoongi's. You'll be a little after seven, but it's fine. You've resigned yourself to staying at Yoongi's until midnight, now. 

It's how it usually goes. 

He'll work up until his deadline, rewriting and revising paragraphs that are perfectly fine and need no alterations. His own worst critic, you know that he really doesn't need to stress himself out like this.

Still, he does. You think he'll always be this way—at least, he was in high school, and he remains to be this way, even in university. Too much of a habit has been formed. It's ingrained in the ridges of his brain. Pink and permanent—just like the pout on his lips as he opens his apartment door for you later that evening.

Forearm tucked under Jaehyun's pudgy thighs, Yoongi cradles his son into his side, as a look of relief relaxes onto his face. It's a stark reminder of why Yoongi stresses himself out so much. 

You can afford to make mistakes. The only person you have to answer to is yourself.

Yoongi doesn't have that luxury anymore. Hasn't done for a while, now. Won't ever get it again—or at least, not for another seventeen years.

"Hey," he whispers, then casts his eyes down to Jaehyun's sleepy head. Nestling into Yoongi's shoulder, Jaehyun's dark hair now has a little length to it. Much like his own, Yoongi is refusing to cut it. Another thing he's scared of getting wrong. 

The subtle nod Yoongi gestures towards Jaehyun is a request for you to be quiet. 

You're familiar with his paternal habits by now; the behaviours he exhibits only when he's wearing his invisible 'Dad' hat.

He tucks back against the door, letting you walk on through and into his apartment.

Shoes off by the door, Yoongi locks up as you shake off your jacket, and hook it on the empty peg in the middle of the rack.

Small and a little dark, Yoongi hates his home. Is strapped for cash, so turned the open plan kitchen and sitting room into a studio-type set-up. Has his bed where a sofa should be, and manages to cram everything somewhere. His desk, his small keyboard, his clothing rail that he really needs to reorganise. A bunch of his things are in storage. 

Jaehyun's room is what once was Yoongi's. It's got the most natural light, thanks to the window placement, not that it matters at this time of night. The curtains are drawn, playmat full of yellows and oranges scattered across the floor. Beside it, is Yoongi's laptop. The screensaver is running, and it's pretty obvious he'd been playing with the little toy octopus sprawled across the keyboard instead, when you had arrived.

"Bit late for nap time?" You question quietly as you pop your phone on the charging pad Yoongi keeps on the dresser.

Nodding, Yoongi gently rests his son down in his crib. These past couple of days, everything has been a little out of sync. He feels guilty—like he's failing—but the pressures he's been putting on himself are just getting far too great. He's doing the best he can, but it always feels like it's not enough.

But Jaehyun is loved, and sheltered, and provided for. Yoongi is doing all he can. He just still isn't sure he knows how to be a dad.

Which is silly, because as you watch him stroke across the dark hair that sits flat to Jaehyun's scalp, quietly monitoring his condition, you think that Yoongi was made for this. Is far more paternal than you are maternal.

Truth be told, you don't like kids all that much.

Your idea of a fun evening doesn't typically involve hanging out with an infant, and yet you'll do it for Yoongi. Of course, you will. Have known him for too long and have been through too much with him to not help him.

Plus, you really do adore Jaehyun. Sweet as can be when he sleeps, he really does look just like Yoongi at that age—or so you gather from the baby pictures you've seen a dozen times over at his parents' place. It's easier to count which features they don't share. Saves ever needing to do a paternity test, not that Yoongi would do one anyway.

Jaehyun is his kid. A little bit of DNA wouldn't change this fact, not in his eyes.

It worries you. Not because you think Yoongi isn't his father—again, they're too alike to not be related—but in case his mother decides she wants to play an active role in Jaehyun's life. You fear that the 1% of doubt could come true and tear any legal right away from Yoongi. You're not really sure how the courts would work it all out, but you doubt they'd side with him. 

Yoongi was never meant to be a father. Not now, at least. The outcome of a one-night-stand, Jaehyun's biological mother didn't realise she was pregnant until it was too late. Had no real choice in the matter. Was also nearing the end of her tenure in law school. A kid was not—and remains to not be—a part of her plan. 

You know the documents were signed. Legal rights, shit like that. Know that she must have an understanding of the law far greater than Yoongi. Just hope she hasn't done anything that will fuck him over in the future.

Still, it's not a topic of conversation Yoongi likes indulging in, and so you don't push, no matter how much you'd like to know the details. 

"Let him sleep," Yoongi eventually sighs, before sinking down to lie on the rug. "Better he rests while I'm working—and plus, he slept through till five-thirty this morning."

"Till sunrise?" You chirp, a little surprised but conscious of keeping your voice down. 

Yoongi nods, face rubbing against the carpet. "He's basically a teenager."

Rolling your eyes, you reach down for his wrist to drag him to his feet. He's got an essay to finish. 

"Shut up," you smile. "You've barely stopped being a teenager."

Sometimes, it makes you a little sad to think that Yoongi is missing out on his early twenties—but then you glance across to Jaehyun and know that he's not missing anything. Just experiencing different things. That's all. 

"Don't remind me," he grunts, lamely getting to his feet, letting you pull him down the hallway as you swipe the baby monitor that lives next to the charging pad. You'll come back for your phone later. 

"C'mon, gotta finish your essay. Can't be a DILF unless you get this degree."

"Untrue."

"You'll just be a D without a good job," you tell him. "DILF's are always suited up."

"That's simply not true," he doubles down. "I've been told I'm a DILF at least, like, six times. Maybe more."

Definitely more. If he knew the way girls on campus spoke about him? God, his head would be so big he wouldn't be able to walk through doors.

But for now, you shoo him back through Jaehyun's bedroom door and to his sitting room-come-bedroom. The apartment isn't large. A baby monitor isn't needed, yet one is set up by Yoongi's bed, regardless. 

And so, as Yoongi knuckles down with his work, you flop onto his bed, and take prime babysitting position—though you're pretty sure you'd get fired if you ever got under anyone else's sheets on the job.

But it's late, and you've worked a long shift. You're only gonna rest your eyes for a moment. A second. A fraction of one, even. Just to hydrate them a little. Replenish your—

You're out like a light.

The curse of Min Yoongi's bedsheets. You really should have known better. It happens every damn time. You know this. He knows this. 

Yet when he eventually wakes you, neither of you mention it.

"Hey," Yoongi mumbles as he gently nudges your sleepy body. Flopping down beside you on top of the duvet, his exhausted eyes close instantaneously. 

"I'm going, I'm going," you grumble into his duvet, half asleep but knowing that you should go and check on Jaehyun. 

The baby monitor hasn't made any noise to wake you, and Yoongi's just been with him for the last twenty minutes, quietly watching on as he slept. Is pretty confident he's gonna sleep through again tonight. 

Reaching out to pat you down, Yoongi doesn't really acknowledge the way he accidentally taps your ass. Nor do you. Just sort of pretend that he didn't. Pretend that it didn't make your heart race a little.

"S'fine," he says, voice muffled by his need for rest. "He's still sleeping. Just checked on him."

"Sure?"

"Mhm," Yoongi nods, the sound of his hair smooth against his sheets. "You gonna crash here?"

"You all done?" You question right back. Shuffle, and his hand lazily moves with you. His wrist now rests on your hip, and you both pretend like it's normal.

"All done," he confirms. "Was late, so I've lost ten percent, but whatever."

For someone who stresses himself out as much as Yoongi does over his grades, as soon as he's hit the submission button, he just ceases to care. Has a 'what'll be, will be' attitude towards it all. Part of you wishes he would adopt that mentality when he's actually writing his essays.

What you don't realise is that it manifests from the same fear. 

He panics and panics and panics before a deadline—and then is so worried about his grade that he just pretends like they don't exist.

Too sleepy to care at this moment in time, Yoongi's placement of his wrist on your hip becomes more intentional. Deliberate. 

It's not like you're a stranger to the weight of Yoongi's arms draped over your body. Not like it's the first time—it's just every time it does happen, you swear it'll be the last.

It never is.

And it's not like it's anything illicit. Not anything you shouldn't be doing. Nothing that takes you beyond the realms of friendship—but it does threaten the integrity of your oldest connection to another human outside of familial ties. 

So every time Yoongi gets a little too close, or you find yourself lingering a little long on his words, you tell yourself to stop. That this is just a symptom of the dry spell you've been going through.

"Are you staying here tonight?" He asks.

Again, it wouldn't be the first time. Have been having sleepovers with him since you were kids. Ghost stories, midnight feasts. Sneaking out to the park to find UFOs and stopping by the corner shop for snacks. 

Once high school hit, it was deemed unwise by your parents. Open door policy. 

You'd been furious. Outraged that your privacy was being taken from you, and being told it was for your own good.

And so sneaking out the park became sneaking in windows; films watched with headphones on, dinner eaten in your bedroom under the guise of a melodramatic teenage strop, but actually shared with the boy from two doors down who knew better than to deceive your parents.

All innocent. Nothing that required a closed door. Those escapades were saved for—or wasted on—other people. Either, or. Neither you nor Yoongi gave it much thought. Why would you?

Friends, is what you were. What you are. What you always have been.

Which begs the question: why the fuck is Yoongi looking at you like that?

But then the wrist of Yoongi's resting on your hip becomes his hand. The grip becomes intentional. The stillness of your body comes not from tiredness, but from trepidation. 

"Do you want me to?" 

"It's late," he husks, thumb stroking against your hip as if that's what friends do. "You're off tomorrow, right? Don't need to go home?"

"Right."

"Well, then stay," he shrugs, loosening his grip to roll onto his back. The ceiling is far less interesting than you are, but he has to stop looking at your lips and wondering if they taste like the strawberry lip balm you'd tossed on the side cabinet earlier. "Makes sense."

"Stay?" You question as if he still needs to clearly outline that, yes, he'd like you to stay. "And do what?"

"Sleep," he dryly replies, because it's the obvious answer. Because it's what you should do. You're tired. He's tired. Jaehyun is asleep in the next room over.

"Sleep," you nod. "Sounds good."

Domestication becomes you in times like these. A toothbrush sits in an old glass on the top shelf of Yoongi's mirrored bathroom cabinet. The rest of the shelves are pretty much empty, but he always puts it up there. Says it annoys him anywhere else.

"Surely it's more annoying having to get it down for me every time I crash here?" You banter with him as you lean against the back wall of his bathroom, waiting for him to retrieve it. 

Plucking it from the glass, Yoongi is swift with his movements, and the way he wets the brush, puts a pearl of toothpaste on the bristles, then hands it back over to you.

"Doesn't bother me," he shrugs, turning back around to shut the cabinet. When he does, he's greeted with your eyes in the mirror, and a feeling in his stomach that should bother him. 

See, the D in Yoongi's DILF actually stands for dependable (although occasionally dickhead also fits). He likes being asked to do things. Likes being helpful. Useful. Knows that he depends on you far more than you do him, and so he does this to settle the score. 

You help him pass his exams, and he helps you keep good dental hygiene habits. A win-win situation. 

Leaving you to finish washing up, Yoongi does the final checks of his apartment. Bolts the door. Turns out the lights. Makes sure Jaehyun's day bag is packed for tomorrow with his Grandma. Adds the day's clothes to the laundry pile. Stands in the doorframe of Jaehyun's room to just simply watch his son exist for a little while longer. 

He loses track of time doing this. It's a nightly routine, so you think he'd get used to it, but he never does. Still can't fully comprehend that a living, breathing creature relies on him for basic survival. 

Sure, he hides your toothbrush away, and puts things out of reach for you just to get you asking him for help, but this is different. He cares about nothing more than making sure Jaehyun is surrounded by abundance: love, shelter, food. Everything the world has to offer, Yoongi wants for his son—and that's why he's working so damn hard to make sure it happens.

There's a tenderness to how Yoongi strokes your back when you stand beside him. He's far gentler than he used to be. Benevolent with age. Isn't the same kid who used to chase you around his parent's yard with a worm in one hand, and a pile of mud in the other. 

"C'mon," you whisper, walking away because you know you need to break the contact. "Let's rest."

Yoongi nods. Is slow as he tears his gaze from his son, but just as stoic as he watches you saunter down the hallway and into your bedroom for the night. His bedroom.

You slip out of sight, just in time for Yoongi to exhale the air in his lungs. His sigh is full of unspoken words. Uncertain terms—and as he follows you down, he wonders how many more secrets will bloat his lungs throughout the night.

#bts fanfic #bts x y/n #bts x reader smut #bts fic #bts x you #bts x reader #yoongi fic #bts yoongi #yoongi smut #min yoongi smut #yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #min yoongi #yoongi #myg x you #myg x reader #myg smut #myg #byholly #yoongi oneshot #dilf yoongi

[em-dash-press]

Game-Changing Sites for Writers

A recent search for a specific type of site to help me build new characters led me down a rabbit hole. Normally, that would make me much less productive, but I have found a treasure trove of websites for writers.

Bring Characters/Places to Life

There are a few different places you can use to create a picture of something entirely new. I love this site for making character pictures as references, instead of stock photos or whatever pops up on Google Images.

thispersondoesnotexist: every time you reload the page, this site generates a headshot of someone who doesn't exist. This is great if you're thinking about a character's personality or age and don't have specifics for their facial features yet.

Night Cafe: this is an AI art generator that takes your text prompt and generates an image for it. I tried it for various scenery, like "forest" or "cottage." It takes a minute for your requested photo to load, but no more than maybe five for the program to finish the picture.

Art Breeder: this website has endless images of people, places, and general things. Users can blend photos to create something new and curious visitors can browse/download those images without creating an account. (But if you do want to make an account to create your own, it's free!)

Find Random Places on Earth

You might prefer to set a story in a real-life environment so you can reference that place's weather, seasons, small-town vibe, or whatever you like. If that's the case, try:

MapCrunch: the homepage generates a new location each day and gives the location/GPS info in the top left of the screen. To see more images from previous days, hit "Gallery" in the top left.

Atlas Obscura: hover over or tap the "Places" tab, then hit "Random Place." A new page will load with a randomly generated location on the planet, provide a Google Maps link, and tell you a little bit about the place.

Random World Cities: this site makes randomly selected lists of global cities. Six appear for each search, although you'll have to look them up to find more information about each place. You can also use the site to have it select countries, US cities or US states too.

Vary Your Wording

Thesauruses are great, but these websites have some pretty cool perspectives on finding just the right words for stories.

Describing Words: tell this website which word you want to stop repeating and it will give you tons of alternative words that mean the same thing. It typically has way more options than other sites I use.

Reverse Dictionary: type what you need a word for in Reverse Dictionary's search box and it will give you tons of words that closely match what you want. It also lists the words in order of relevancy, starting with a word that most accurately describes what you typed. (There's also an option to get definitions for search results!)

Tip of My Tongue: this website is phenomenal. It lets you search for that word you can't quite place by a letter in it, the definition, what it sounds like, or even its scrambled letters. A long list of potential options will appear on the right side of the screen for every search.

---

Hope this helps when you need a hand during your next writing session 💛

#writing resources #writeblr #writers of tumblr #writing websites #websites for writers #writing advice #writing #writing tips #creative writing #writing help #writing community #writers #writing inspiration #resources #for future reference #useful stuff

[thetriumphantpanda]

a woman's voice, i quickly ran

In The Woods Somewhere | Chapter One

Chapter Summary | Joel has been wandering for weeks, aimlessly listing through the forest as he scouts a new patrol path. He's gone much further than he needs, could easily turn back, which he almost does, until he stumbles across you and your coven of children, hiding out in the forest.

Chapter Warnings | Consumption of food, canon typical violence, descriptions of child death and dead bodies, mention of weapons, mention of religion, religious trauma, mention of a cult, swearing, child loss, allusions to controlling behaviour and domestic abuse, allusions to dirty thoughts but nothing explicit yet, age gap relationship in future chapters, no use of y/n.

Pairing | Joel Miller x F!Reader

Word Count | 6.3K

Authors Note | Well, here we fucking go right? I definitely didn't need another WIP, but I seriously couldn't leave this one alone so here we are. Like I said on the masterlist drop, this is different from what I've written before. It's challenging me in the best way and I really cannot wait to share more with you. If you enjoy this then please consider reblogging, leaving comments or popping into my ask with your thoughts - I love hearing from you guys! And also consider leaving a tip on Ko-Fi if you enjoyed as well - I'm a poor student so anything really helps, but no pressure.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi

Joel’s boots sink into the ground underfoot. It rained last night. He’s thankful he managed to find an abandoned cabin along the way yesterday before the heaven’s opened. This walk would be even more miserable if his clothes had been soaked through as well. Every few steps his feet slip in the mud. He can already feel his ankles screaming at him to stop, but the sky above him is dark grey and threatening to rain once more, so he keeps walking, hoping there’s someone, somewhere looking down on him, taking pity, hoping he can find another cabin to spend the night in. 

When he hears a distant rumble of thunder, he curses Tommy, out loud. He’s nowhere near Jackson now, having been convinced to take a scouting mission for this new route they’d stumbled across once the snows of winter had melted away. He feels like he’s been punished. Shunned from his own community. Even though his brain knows that’s not the case. He hasn’t spoken to Ellie in months, his chest constricting tightly when he thinks to her. He's no-one to blame but himself for where he is, but the Lord knows whatever he did, whatever he would continue to do for that girl, he’d do it all again given his second chance. 

He can still see Tommy’s face when he came clean. The look of utter despair, the one chance they had at returning to normal, snatched away by Joel and his gun, and then the look of understanding that Joel had found his purpose again, found someone to give his love to. That’s why he’s here now, backpack laden with a singular change of clothes and his rations, rifle slung over his shoulder. Tommy thought some solitude would help. Help him come to terms with his new relationship, or lack thereof, with Ellie. Give him something to focus on. He still can’t help thinking that it was an excuse for him to be out of town for a few weeks, so that his scowling face didn’t make the children cry or the rest of the town avoid him. 

When all is said and done, he misses her. He’d already lost one daughter, and through trying not to lose the other, that’s exactly what he’s done. Pushed her away. Alienated her. What he wouldn’t give to go back and hear those shitty puns again. Of course, in the back of his mind he knew this would happen, he just didn’t think it would be so soon. The only thing he would do differently about the years they’ve lived since they came back to Jackson, it would be to savour the moments he had with her, knowing they’d be gone all too soon. 

He can feel his chest tightening. Not in the way it would when he’s exerted himself up a hill. In the way it happens when he feels things spiraling out of control. He rests a palm on the tree-trunk in front of him, other hand clutched to his heart as he closes his eyes and tries to calm him breathing. Ground himself. Count to ten. Think of things he can smell. Think of things he can hear. He’s focusing on the birdsong when he hears something else. Just as sweet as the chirping from the trees, but decidedly more human. 

You are my sunshine

My only sunshine 

You make me happy 

When skies are grey 

Along with the singing, Joel can hear the telltale sound of children. He’s grown used to it since being in Jackson, hearing children enjoy themselves without having to worry about what happens outside of the walls that keep them safe. But there are no walls out here, only forest and danger, so the sound of children laughing is unsettling him, and he’s not really sure why. He pushes himself back from the tree, taking the rifle off his shoulder to rest in his arms as he takes tentative steps through the forest, careful not to step on anything that might give him away. He comes to stop near the front of the line of trees, letting his eyes adjust to the scene in front of him. 

There’s a cabin, not unlike the one he’d spent the previous night in, situated in a small clearing. If he looks at it with his contractor eyes it’s pretty well built, solid and sturdy. But it’s not the cabin that he’s interested in, not really. His eyes are drawn to a woman, sitting on a bench that’s placed on the porch of the cabin, and more importantly, the small gaggle of children that are sitting around her. There are four of them, varying in age, two boys and two girls, who are sitting on the floor in front of the woman, who has stopped singing and is now reading aloud from a book that’s on her lap. 

The voice that she speaks with is almost as lovely as the voice she sings with, and Joel finds himself leaning against the tree, letting the soft lilt of her voice soothe him. It’s a distant memory but it reminds him almost of his mother, when she’d read to him and Tommy before bed when they were young boys. He doesn’t know the story, can’t make out enough words to follow along, but that doesn’t matter. 

He's watching intently as she closes the book on her lap and sets it down on the bench. He listens as she tells the children to go inside. She follows, guiding one of the older children with a hand on the back of his head. She’s only gone for a minute, then she’s back, this time with a shotgun clutched in her arms, much like the way he’s got his own rifle. 

“You gonna be trouble?” She calls out, facing him directly, barrel of the gun trained into the trees where he’s stood. 

He’s taken back by her observation skills. Joel had been careful to stay as still as he could, but somehow, she’d managed to spot him. He thinks to himself that it’s good, when she’s got children to care for. 

“Don’t mean no harm,” He calls back, shouldering his rifle as he does, “Just lookin’ for somewhere to spend the night.” 

He steps out of the tree line, hands raised in surrender to bring home his point. She keeps the gun trained on him though. Smart, he thinks, she doesn’t trust him. The sky above decides now, that after hours of threatening, to open, sending fat drops of rain onto the ground. 

The woman points with the barrel of her shotgun for Joel to sit on the bench, under the cover of the porch, which he gladly does, grateful for the opportunity to take the weight off his aging ankles. Once he’s sat, he takes a moment to push the curls back from his head, water dripping from the ends, he also leans down to unlace his boots, relieving the pressure on his feet. 

“How’d you find us?” She asks, still aiming the gun at him. 

“How’s about you get that gun off me, and we’ll talk?” Joel asks, raising an eyebrow. 

“What’s stopping you from attacking me once I do?” 

“Probably the fact that my gun is there,” He motions to the pillar he’d rested his rifle on, out of reach unless he stands and takes steps to get it, “And those kids in there.” 

“You got any other weapons on you?” She asks, Joel nods his head, because it’s true, he’s got a hunting knife in his backpack, “Can I search you?” 

“Knock yourself out.” He murmurs in response. 

She takes slow steps towards him, eyes not leaving his face as she kneels in front of him, fingers tracing the top of his boots for something concealed. She does the same up the leg of his jeans, trying to feel if he’s got anything hidden there, and then pats down his chest. Joel curses to himself at the way his heart jumps in his chest when her delicate hands touch him. Touch starved idiot, he thinks, he’s not had a woman touch him since Tess, and even that was more of a means to end. 

She steps back from him, moving onto his backpack. She takes out his change of clothes, unfolds them to make sure he’s not keeping anything hidden there, but then folds them back up which Joel thinks is curious. She finds the hunting knife buried just below his clothes. She takes it out and inspects it, but doesn’t pocket it for herself, just rests it on top of his folded clothes. Finally, she rustles through his rations – some bags of dried fruit and jerky mostly. He'd been trying to catch fresh meat on the way so there’s still plenty left. Once she’s satisfied Joel has nothing else to hide, she repacks his bag for him, before standing back, gun still in hand but not trained directly to his face anymore. 

“Where did you come from?” She asks, leaning against the porch fence. 

“I’m from a commune, few weeks walks from here,” He answers honestly, “We noticed a new route out when the snow melted so I’m just scouting it out, makin’ sure there ain’t nothing to cause us trouble,” He looks at the woman now, directly in the eye, “You gonna be trouble for us?” 

He’s teasing really, because what threat could one woman and four children pose to Jackson? But she doesn’t take it that way, Joel catching the way her fingers twitch on the trigger. 

“Depends,” She speaks, “You gonna be trouble for us?” 

“Doubt it,” He shrugs, “We won’t come out this far when we patrol.” 

“Then why are you out here at all?” 

Ah, yes, the million-dollar question. He really could have gone back a week ago. Once he’d walked as far as he would on his normal patrols, he could have called it and gone back, but there’s something about the solitude here that he enjoys. He also thinks he’s avoiding going back to his miserable existence now. Doesn’t want to live in a place where Ellie ignores him, where she walks past his house without acknowledging him. 

“Guess I just like the outdoors.” 

She raises her eyebrows at him but seems to accept his answer. The rain is pouring now, soaking the ground again and if there’s one thing he doesn’t want to do right now, it’s trekking through the storm to find someplace else to shelter. 

“You mind if I say?” He asks, “Just until the storm passes.” 

He watches her closely as she thinks, finally taking a moment to really take her in. She’s young, probably in her early thirties if he was to guess. She’s wearing a white dress, or it would have been white once upon a time. The long hemline is covered in dirt, ghosting along worn work boots. The dress has long sleeves, and the neckline is cut just enough to be enticing but not indecent. He wonders where the hell she’s come from. There are scars that pepper her face, one that cuts across her top lip and another that slashes through her left eyebrow. They look old and healed and he can see another mark on the skin around her throat – perhaps not a scar, more of a burn, that traces around the entirety of that delicate throat. He knows she’s been through something; it must be what’s made her so smart. She is, quite possibly, the most beautiful thing he’s seen. Like an angel, dressed in white, ethereal. He feels depraved in this moment, thinking of all the ways he might break her. 

“You stay out here,” She says firmly, “And you don’t speak to the children, understand?” 

“Understood.”

She nods, pushing herself back from the railings beneath her back, “I’ll bring some food out later.” 

Joel watches as she moves away, murmuring a quiet thank you to her as she disappears back into the cabin, shutting the door behind her. He hears a lock click a moment later and he smiles. This woman knows exactly what she’s doing. 

You settle the children at the table a few hours later. You dish servings of the stew you’d made over the fire into bowls and give each of them a glass of water. You turn your back on them when they clasp their hands together, bowing their heads in a silent prayer like they’ve always done. Like they were conditioned to do. You don’t join in. Instead, you take two bigger bowls, filling one for yourself and then the other for the mystery man out there. His portion is bigger. If he’d been surviving on dried rations and whatever he could catch, you think he must be starving. You’re not sure why you care so much, but you think it has something to do with the way you were raised. Before the world went to shit, your parents had always given guests the biggest portion of food, this is just something you carry with you. 

When you turn around the children are eating their food. They’re slow, knowing they can savour what they eat now. They don’t have a master who takes their bowls away once he’d finished, no matter how much they had left. They’re quiet too, something they’re still yet to unlearn. Children are to be seen and not heard. You’d told them in the months after that you loved hearing them, the joy they let out when you taught them how to play properly. You’d insisted no-one was going to beat them again for speaking too loudly, but some lessons are harder than others to unlearn. 

“Who is that man?” Thomas, the oldest boy asks quietly. 

“He’s just passing through,” You smile, ruffling the hair on his head as you pass, “He’ll be gone by the morning.” 

“He won’t hurt us?” He asks, and your heart breaks a little, because what do you say? 

“I don’t know,” You answer honestly, dipping to press a kiss to the crown of his head, “I keep us safe though, don’t I?” He nods in response, “Then I’ll keep us safe tonight, now finish your dinner, I’ll be back in a little while.” 

You set your bowl down on the corner table by the door, unlocking it with one hand before picking up your bowl again. The man from earlier is still sat on the bench, exactly where you’d left him, except now he’s got a book perched on his lap, which you notice is the one you’d been reading to the children earlier. He looks up, closing the book as you offer him his own bowl. 

“It’s not much,” You speak softly, sitting in the small chair across from the bench, “It’s squirrel, the meat.” You inform him as he starts pushing his spoon through the meal. 

“Thank you,” Is all he says as he lifts the spoon to his mouth, “How long have you been livin’ here?” 

You chew your own mouthful of food, realizing quickly that the anxiety in your stomach at someone you don’t know being in your space means you don’t really want to eat anything, the meat and vegetables settling like lead when you swallow. Better to be out here and keep an eye on him though. 

“Couple’a months,” You offer, pushing the food around in your bowl, “We’ve moved around a bit.” 

“Ever get any trouble?” He asks, shoveling another spoonful of stew into his mouth. 

You take a small bite of your own food, chewing it more times than is necessary before you struggle to swallow it down, “Not really,” You answer, “Few people come through, but the shotgun usually means they move on, I think the children help,” You shrug, “World might have gone to shit but people don’t wanna kill kids these days.” 

You’re still trying to convince yourself to eat your food when the man in front of you sets his empty bowl on the floor. You look down into the stew, taking another bite making you feel like you might be sick, so you extend the bowl to him. 

“No, thank you,” He holds his hand up, “That’s yours.” 

“I ate earlier,” You lie, “Please, it’ll just go to waste.” 

You can see him battle with himself a little, but ultimately his stomach wins, so he takes the bowl and finishes off your portion in silence, setting his old bowl inside this one once he’s finished. The light has faded fast, it’s still pouring with rain so there’s no chance he’s going to move off tonight. You stand, bending to take the bowls from between his feet. 

“I’ll find you a blanket,” You speak quietly as you open the door, “You’ll be more comfortable that way.” 

Inside, the children have finished their food and have started to clear up. Another hangover from where you’d been before. Thomas takes the bowls from your hand and gives them to Clara, just a year younger than he is. She places them in the bucket of water in front of the fire and starts to scrub as you root around in the ottoman by the couch. There’s only one blanket in there that you think will be big enough for him and it’s threadbare, but better than nothing you think. Whoever he is, he’s old, or older than you at least, so you take two cushions from the sofa, if his back is anything like yours, he’ll need them. 

He's back to reading the book when you take them out to him. This time, he doesn’t close it, just looks up with a smile and says thank you as you place them at the end of the bench. You turn to head back inside. 

“I’ll be gone once the sun rises,” He speaks, “Thank you, you’re a very kind girl.” 

You scoff a little, thinking if only you knew what I’d done. You smile at him instead, you want to tell him it was nice to meet him, nice to meet a man who doesn’t seem to have ulterior motives, but what would be the point? He’ll be gone in the morning and you’ll be back to keeping your children safe. You say nothing. Leave him on the porch and lock the door. It’s for the best. 

Joel doesn’t sleep. He spends his night upright on the porch, rifle over his lap, surveying the tree line in front of the cabin. Every now and then he stands, walking around, because his good ear can only pick so much out. He doesn’t know why he feels the need to stand guard, he wasn’t asked to. You’ve gotten under his skin. He’s been around you less than twelve hours, he doesn’t even know your name, doesn’t know who these children are to you, what you’ve been through, but still feels the need to keep you safe. 

The rain had stopped some time ago, just after he noticed the lights inside the cabin go out. It makes hearing things easier, now he’s not trying to make out sounds over the roar of the weather. It’s unsettling though. A few times he thinks he’s heard something amongst the trees, the snapping of twigs and such, but it could easily be an animal. He doesn’t want to risk wandering off into the woods to figure out what it is, because if it is humans, his absence means you and your children are an easy target. 

He's sat back on the porch when he hears it. The unmistakable sounds of someone cocking their gun. He’s too slow to react. The sound of the gun firing fills his ears and then the shattering of glass behind him. The bullet piercing through the window behind him. He jumps up, realizing whoever it is out there must have been aiming at him. He readies his rifle, eyes scanning the tree’s for movement. He’s stood with his back to the door, aiming his gun out, waiting for whoever is out there to give away their position when the door is yanked open, you’re stood there with your shotgun. 

“Get inside.” He hisses, trying to gently push at your shoulder. 

“I haven’t needed your help so far,” She spits back, as another bullet ricochets off the wall of the cabin, they’re definitely aiming at you both, “Where are they?” 

“I don’t know,” He whispers, trying to figure out exactly where they’re firing from, “If you’re gonna stay out here, you need to be quiet.” 

You scoff at him, as if you’d been making a ton of noise anyway, but then another bullet sounds, bouncing off the wall near your head and you let out a yelp, finally realizing you’re terrified. The man, whose name you still don’t know, grips the top of your arm and pushes you back inside the cabin, following behind you as he slams the door shut. 

You watch as he pulls the couch away from the window that had been shot through. He points his rifle out of it and pulls the trigger and you think you can hear someone cry out into the night. Good riddance you think, as you watch him reload his gun. You turn around at the sound of a creaking door, finding Thomas and Clara and the two younger children, Edward and Isabel, clearly frightened by what was happening. You drop your shotgun on the table, rushing over to kneel in front of them. They crowd into your arms, Isabel is crying so you try and soothe her as much as possible. 

“What’s happening?” Edward asks. 

“There are some bad men outside who want to hurt us,” You answer simply, you’ve tried never to sugarcoat things with them, “But it’s okay,” You try and smile, “Because we’ve got someone looking after us.” 

You turn just in time to watch your guest shoot again. It continues like this for what feels like forever, someone outside shoots towards the cabin and then he shoots back, until it’s silent. You watch as the man stays still, but there aren’t any other shots that ring out. You let out a breath that you hadn’t realized you were holding. You were safe. 

“Back into there,” You tell the children, “I’ll be there in a minute.” 

They do as they’re told, heading back into their bedroom. You close the door and turn around as the man in front of you is finally lowering his gun. You both take a moment to look at each other, chests heaving and adrenaline flooding through your veins. 

“Thank you,” You speak softly, walking up to him, “I don’t know what I’d have done without you.” 

“Probably not been attacked,” He grumbles, “I think it was me outside that made them think there was somethin’ worth takin’.” 

“Still,” You place a hand on his shoulder, “Thank you.” 

“You can’t stay here,” He says suddenly, “All those gunshots mean infected, I can’t keep you safe enough if they’re gonna start swarmin’.” 

“We don’t have anywhere else to go,” You panic, feeling bile rise up in your throat, it had taken you months to find safety like this, and now you had to give it up, “Where are we going to go?” 

“There’s another cabin, just a few hours walk away,” He explains, “I stayed there the night before I came here, same kinda thing, and far enough away to be safer, but we have to go now.” 

You take a moment to think. You don’t know this man. Sure, he’s just killed people to keep you safe, but maybe this is all part of some master plan, lure you away, take the children from you, force you back into a life you don’t think you’d survive second time around. The alternative though isn’t much better. You stay here and what? You’re overrun by clickers, get torn apart by infected and if they don’t get the children, what becomes of them? When you think about it like this, there is really only one option, and that is trust this man in front of you. 

“If I’m going to trust you, I need to know your name.” 

“Joel.” 

You return the favour quickly, telling him your name, before turning to go to the children. They’re sat together on one bed, comforting each other. You kneel in front of the bed, placing soothing hands wherever you could reach. 

“The bad men are gone,” You speak softly, “But it was really loud which means it isn’t safe to stay here anymore, so the man out there is going to take us somewhere safer.”

“How do we know he’s a nice man?” Thomas asks. 

“Well, he kept us safe, didn’t he?” You offer, “He didn’t have to help us like that, but he did, so I think that makes him nice, doesn’t it?” 

They nod, but you know they would do anything you asked them to do, without question. There isn’t much to pack, you didn’t have much to begin with, but you ask them to gather the small bags you’d found for them along the way and fill it with what they would need. When you head back to the main room, Joel is still posted near the window, keeping an eye out for whatever dangers might be waiting to greet you when you leave. 

You find your backpack and make sure it’s filled with everything you might need. It’s still got most of your essentials in it, perhaps you’d always thought this place wouldn’t be forever. You fit a few of the books in that the children love the most before putting it on, gathering the small knife from the table, setting it in your boot and then picking up your shotgun, just in time for the children to emerge with their own bags. 

Joel turns around, “Okay, we need to be quick,” He speaks softly, aware that the children must be frightened, “And really quiet, okay?” 

They nod, as do you, then he’s opening the door and leading the way. You don’t bother closing the door behind you. You just motion for the children to follow behind Joel. Isabel and Edward are holding hands, just like they always do, Clara and Thomas just a few steps behind them. The sun has started to rise, painting your surroundings in pale light as you start to move quietly behind them all. Then, it all goes wrong. You’re not entirely sure what happens past hearing another gunshot and one of the children screeching. 

Joel whips around and trains his gun from where the sound had come from, firing a shot right into the man who was heading right towards you. You scream and step back before you look to your children. Edward is stood with his hand clutched to his side, blood seeping through his shirt and his hand. You barely have time to catch him before he falls. His tiny body is shaking in your arms, as you try and move his hand away from the wound. He cries out in pain when you try and move him. 

“I know baby, I know,” You try and soothe, your own tears clouding your vision as you manage to move his hands away, “You gotta let me see, okay?” 

When his hands do move, you can already tell there’s nothing you can do. Blood is pooling on the ground, seeping through the white material of your dress as you try and put pressure on it, which causes more pained cries to leave his mouth. You must get him up, you have to move him somewhere you can look at him better.

“We gotta get you up, okay?” You ask him, quickly brushing your tears away from your face as you try and hoist him up, but it’s no use, the screams of pain are more than you can bare.

You let him drop back to the ground, still trying to stem the bleeding when you notice that he’s stopped shaking and his crying has stopped. No. No no no no no. 

“Edward?” You ask, shaking his shoulder, “Edward!” This time it’s louder, mor hysterical as your sobs rack your body. He can’t be dead. Not after everything you’d done, “Please, baby, come back to me,” You beg, “I can keep you safe, please just come back.” You cry into his bloodied body, knowing it’s no use, he’s gone. 

You let out another sob as you clutch his small body to yours, rocking him back and forth like you used to when you were trying to get him to sleep, tears falling down your face and onto the ground. Then, a strong palm slips onto your shoulder which makes you jump, “We have to go.” Is all Joel says, trying to get you to stand with an arm on your elbow. 

“I c-can’t leave h-him here.” You choke out through sobs. 

“Give him to me,” Joel insists, taking Edward’s lifeless body from your arms, helping you to stand, “I’ll carry him.” 

You don’t know why but you start to wipe at the blood on your dress, it’s seeped into the material so there’s no way you’ll ever get it out, but it’s something to focus on that isn’t Edward being dead. For the first time in years, you don’t look at the other children as you start to follow behind Joel once more. You know their faces would break you, would cause you to fall to your knees and not get up again. The three of them walk side-by-side in front of you again. Silent, but you can tell they’re crying from the way their shoulders are shaking. Isabel is in the middle of Thomas and Clara, each of them clutching one of her hands as they struggle to keep up with Joel’s pace as he walks through the dense forest.

You think you walk for hours, quietly crying as you do. You stop once, Joel walking off away from you whilst you sit with the children that are left, letting them sip from the canteen of water whilst you all catch your breath. You know he does it so none of you have to lay your eyes on Edward’s dead body. You make yourself as small as possible, knees to your chest, to try and hide the worst of the bloody stains on your dress. All too soon, Joel is whistling to you, telling you that it’s not much further. 

By the time you reach the cabin, the sun is already starting to set. Joel motions his hand for you to go inside ahead of him which you do, guiding Thomas, Clara and Isabel in before you go. Joel stays outside as you get them settled on the dusty couch inside. 

“What happened to Edward?” Isabel asks, her eyes wide as you crouch in front of them.

You take hold of her small hands, “I’m sorry baby,” You sigh, “Edward is gone.” You can feel the lump in your throat, you try to bite your emotion back for their sake.

“Where has he gone?” She asks. 

You open and close your mouth, trying to find the right words. Trying not to rip up wounds from the past that you’d only just managed to close with them. 

“Well baby, he’s gone somewhere else,” You sigh, “You remember before, when we lost people, and we were always told they went to heaven?” The three children nod at you, “I know we don’t believe that, but he’s somewhere better now.” 

“And he won’t come back?” 

“No baby,” You coo, running your hand over her hair, “But we’ll see him again someday, I promise.” 

You press a kiss to each other their foreheads, opening your backpack to pull out one of their books. You hand it to Thomas so he can read to the other girls before you head outside. You can see Joel near the line of trees, he’s digging with a shovel and your chest constricts at the sight. It’s not fair. None of this is fair. Edward deserved to grow old. You’re angry. You want to scream. You want to strike your fists into something until all you feel is the physical pain, because that’s easier, it’s an easier pain to the one you feel right now. 

Joel turns as you stand still at the door, he tilts his head, ushering you over to him. Your body follows the direction, like you always had before. A man tells you to do something, you do it. 

“I didn’t know if you wanted to bury him,” He speaks softly, “But if you do, it’s ready.”

You can feel your bottom lip tremble so you bite down on it, hoping the pain stops you from crying, but it’s useless, you still can’t comprehend that he’s gone, despite the fact his body is wrapped in a filthy sheet next to the grave Joel has dug. He deserves so much better than this. You can’t help but take it as a personal failure. You’d vowed to keep them safe, and you’d failed. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” He murmurs, letting a hand rest lightly on your shoulder which you shudder away from, “I’ll give you some time, just place him down and I’ll do the rest when you’re ready.” 

He walks away, but not into the house, you notice. Maybe he still thinks the children are frightened of him. He walks around the side of the cabin as your focus moves back to the shroud in front of you. You drop to your knees, delicate hands rolling the top of the shroud down to reveal his face. His eyes are closed, and you can almost convince yourself that however he died it was peaceful. His skin is pale and mottled, lips blue. A tear drips from your face and onto his, clearing a trail down his cheek as it moves through the dirt. You lean forward, kissing his forehead, running a hand through his hair like you did each night to soothe him. 

“I’m sorry baby,” You whisper, “I’m so sorry.” 

You stay like this for a moment, forehead pressed to his. You can’t bare it anymore, pulling back and covering his face, but there’s something stopping you from lowering him into the ground. Then it’s final. You won’t be able to see his face again, listen to his voice when he talks or smile when he laughs. You turn, finding Joel hanging back. 

“I can’t do it,” You mutter, “Will you?” 

He nods, walking over to you. He doesn’t try and touch you this time, just bends and picks Edward up before placing him lightly into the grave. He stands, putting his hand to the shovel, you decide you can’t watch anymore, turning your back on the scene behind you to go back to the family you still have. 

Darkness has enveloped the outdoors. The children have been in bed for a while, after Joel handed out the remainder of his measly rations to everyone. You wish you could convince yourself to sleep, but moving from the couch seems like too much work right now. You’re numb. Joel is sat at the other end of the couch, letting the small fire he set warm him through. The silence is deafening. 

“You wanna talk about it?” His gruff voice asks. 

You’re biting at the end of your nail, crying again. Your body is aching, dress covered in dry blood. You wish you could wake up from whatever horrible nightmare this is. You finally shake your head, biting at your lip as you do. 

“I don’t think I can.” 

There’s another beat of silence before Joel speaks again, “I know you don’t wanna think about it right now,” He sighs, “But Jackson, where I live, it’s safe.” 

“Is anywhere really safe these days?” You scoff. 

He nods his head, “Y’know, that’s what I thought when I got there, but it works,” He shrugs, “My brother, he sorta helps run it, big walls, everyone chips in where they can, take turns patrollin’, I’ve been there two years now and nothin’ bad’s ever happened.” 

“So, you’re communists then?” 

Joel can’t help but laugh, thinking about the existential crisis Tommy had when Ellie had suggested the same thing, “Somethin’ like that, yeah.” 

You sigh, because it’s starting to sound like a good idea. A place where you’d be shut in, protected by people. Where the children could actually be children. You’re still not convinced you trust him though. Sure, he’d protected you. Helped you to safety. Carried Edward’s dead body all the way here, but you’re still convinced it’s some kind of sick joke at your expense. You could be walking headfirst into a trap. 

“It’s okay,” He murmurs, “I don’t expect you to trust me, it’s going to take time, but just follow me, even for a while, we’ll go slowly back that way, anytime you wanna leave, you can.” 

“I can’t think about this right now,” You snap, “Can we just have some time?” 

He gives you a small smile, “Of course, all the time you need, I ain’t in a rush to get back.” 

Exhaustion floods your body, eyes becoming heavy, as the final ounces of adrenaline finally leave your body. 

“Take the room,” Joel offers, “I can sleep out here.” 

“You slept on a wooden bench last night,” You fight, “And I’m younger, I can sleep out here.” 

“I didn’t sleep at all,” He counters, “So it don’t matter where I lie, I’m gonna be fast asleep in minutes.” 

“You’re sure?” You ask, lifting your heavy bones from the couch. 

“Go.” He nods his head towards the closed door to the second bedroom. 

“Goodnight.” You speak softly, picking up your backpack to take into the room with you. You’re asleep almost as soon as your head hits the pillow. 

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[writerofjourneys]

Hi! If requests are still open, could I request Akira/Joker with a female reader who's a phenomenal cook?

Making him lunches, snacks, and occasionally breakfast and dinner too. Boy's bout to be spoiled.

Cooking for Joker

Fandom(s): Persona 5

P5 Protagonist/Joker x Fem Reader

Headcanon

Content: Fluff, romance, food, established relationship, marriage, married life, aged up characters, cooking, domesticity, soft Joker, taking care of each other, affection, declarations of love.

Warnings: None.

Main List | 𝐉𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐫

As the leader of the Phantom Thieves, Akira is busy preparing for heists and fighting Shadows. But not just for being a leader of a mysterious infamous group, he’s busy everywhere. Ranking up confidants, fusing Personas, stocking supplies, studying, Akira’s been dealt with a lot of responsibilities since he got to Tokyo.

Eating at Big Bang Burger all the time and doing those challenges isn’t healthy on a regular basis. He does eat out with the team and his confidants sometimes. And Sojiro does cook breakfast for him on occasion.

But he will have a tendency to overwork himself and forget his own needs. He’s also taking care of Morgana, another mouth to feed besides himself. During lunchtime, Akira would either share his meal or just give it to Morgana.

Though since Morgana is known to keep track of his bedtime, the cat will make reminders for him to eat. The talking feline does pride himself for being responsible.

But you making food for him will send his heart soaring. He’s a lanky male, not too thin, but not so muscular, so he could still go for some more meat in his bones. It’s not only a sweet gesture but also an efficient way to help feed your hardworking boyfriend. He may even blush a little from the adoring sentiment.

Making bentos for him? Touching. Making matching bentos for the two of you? Adorable. Especially if you’re putting great details in the lunches, like making cute faces in the shape of animals and such. Akira will tease that it looks far better to admire, but he’ll happily finish the bento until there’s nothing left. He’s never been a picky eater so he’s open to try anything you make.

Learning about your cooking skills definitely impresses him. Akira likes to improve his own culinary abilities. Working with Sojiro behind the counter helped him discover that passion. So being a phenomenal cook, he’d gladly ask for tips and advice once in a while.

Akira finds himself astounded that someone like him, someone carrying a false criminal record serving probation in an unfamiliar place alone, could have such a loving girlfriend caring for him. He always makes sure to not let you forget his own affections and how much everything you do means.

It becomes a routine for you two to meet up at lunchtime and eat together. Sitting side by side closely, across with legs touching. There’s no doubt that Akira will happily reciprocate in taking turns making meals for you both. A good way to practice his cooking skills despite his busy schedule. If you were to ever be unable to make it, Akira will feel your absence greatly.

Breakfast? Probably best to have something easier to eat as you walk to Shujin side by side on weekdays. It is true as they say that to a person’s heart in general is through the stomach. If you stopped by carrying food filled containers to eat at LeBlanc, Sojiro has no problem with it. He does agree that Akira should be mindful of eating. Depending on if said containers are washable, he’ll let you keep them at the café until you take them back.

Feeding each other is a thing in private. When no one is there, Akira will offer a piece of food to your lips, expression cheeky. It’s something you’d only do behind closed doors.

And in reverse, he’s happy to welcome a spoonful from you. Wiping a stain on his mouth gets him a bit bashful. A napkin? Cute. Your own tongue? Now his face got even redder.

But beware, the leader of the Phantom Thieves has tricks up his sleeve. He’ll reciprocate the action in a sneaky way to tease back.

Dates spent cooking and eating together is very domestic and wholesome. Trying new recipes, sharing some, it’s a lovely way to spend time with one another. Though you’d probably spend that in your home rather than his. Because as nice as the coffee and curry is at the café, you’d have more privacy and space to work on. Akira always has a look in his eyes when he gazes upon you, so much so it makes you bashful every time you see it.

Food turns into a new love language between you.

And once you become adults? Naturally, living together is expected after the deepening of your relationship growing from being high school sweethearts. Cooking together becomes a real staple in your household. Working different jobs may not always let you cook together, but having the thoughtfulness of making food for the other is still as meaningful.

#persona 5 #persona 5 x reader #persona 5 royal #x reader #reader insert #persona 5 protagonist #p5 #p5r #akira kurusu x reader #akira kusuru #ren amamiya x reader #ren amamiya #fanfic #p5 joker #p5 protagonist #persona 5 joker #p5 x reader #p5 royal #headcanon

[writingseaslugs]

Hello everyone, and welcome to the Lounge! I'm the owner, and you can call me either Salt or Slug, whichever suits your fancy (They/He). This is a side blog for all my fandom writing. I'm currently whipping up drinks for Twisted Wonderland and Obey Me, but Genshin Impact might soon join the menu as well.

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[queenie-blackthorn]

tips for writing arab characters

writer here!! im a middle eastern writer whos noticed that theres a VERY significant lack of info on how to write arabs, so im here to help !! (however, keep in mind that im specifically gulf arab and may not be able to provide as much info on levant arabs or north african arabs. if there are any on here, feel free to reblog w more info !! )

dont get arabs mixed up w muslims. yes, a large portion of the arab population are muslim, but youd be surprised at the number of non-muslim arabs that exist. if you wanna write abt a muslim character, a post i made that might help is here 

list of arab countries, with the adjective:

algeria — algerian

bahrain — bahraini 

the comoros islands — comorans

djibouti — djiboutian

egypt — egyptian

iraq — iraqi

jordan — jordanian

kuwait — kuwaiti

lebanon — lebanese

libya — libyan

morocco — moroccan

mauritania — mauritanian

oman — omani

palestine — palestinian

qatar — qatari

kingdom of saudi arabia (ksa) — saudi

somalia — somali

sudan  — sudanese

syria — syrian

tunisia — tunisian

united arab emirates (uae) — emirati

yemen — yemeni

dialects/language:

dialects greatly differ—the egyptian dialect is the most common, followed closely by the levantine dialect

classic arabic is called fusha (fuss-ha), used in things like official documents, media, education. every arab knows it but its not used in day to day language except in media (all dialects basically come from fusha, but with slight changes)

'p' and 'g' (as in 'gurgle' or 'goal') dont exist in the arabic alphabet, theyre replaced with 'b' and 'j' 

depending on where theyre from, they may also learn a third language besides arabic and english (e.g. moroccans know french, a berber arab may know berber)

appearance:

arabs look different based on where theyre from. if theyre from the arabian peninsula, they have thick curly dark hair, tanned skin, and dark eyes. levant arabs are lighter skinned, and green/blue eyes are more common with them

adding on to previous point, arabs have a variety of skin tones, even if theyre siblings. using a real example, me and my older brother respectively look white passing and afro hispanic

dark irises are considered better looking than lighter colored eyes. eyes are usually thick-lashed, with big round slightly upturned eyes 

big noses are common, along with full lips (and hereditary dark circles for those with more tanned skin)

high cheekbones and well structured faces are also prevalent

culture:

varies depending on location

influenced by indian culture, IS NOT INTERCHANGEABLE WITH INDIAN CULTURE. that was aladdins mistake

poetry is so common, especially with romantic themes

songs also have romantic themes

youd be surprised at how romantic arabs are

dances vary extremely, from dabke (palestinean dance done in groups, consisting largely of leg/foot movements) to yola (emirati dance with battle origins, done using canes or fake guns) i recommend watching videos (tiktok has a lot of videos esp of dabke)

women also dance but you wont find a lot of videos of it bc its inappropriate

etiquette:

things such as giving someone your back, or facing the bottom of your feet towards someone are considered rude 

pda is also taboo (even with straight couples or even sometimes married couples)

cheek kisses are a common way of greeting, but not between genders

in some gulf countries, men greet each other with a nose kiss (not in an intimate way) just stubbing their noses against each other

genders do not mix at all. schools tend to divide girls and boys into two sections starting at a certain age (around age 10/11), and mosques are split into the mens side (usually larger than womens bc men use the mosque more)

having an extramarital relationship is very very taboo (even w hetero relationships) but it still happens. a lot. 

family dynamics (note that this is obviously a spectrum. this is the general dynamic, but obv it ranges from family to family):

NOT ALL OF US HAVE ABUSIVE PARENTS. sure theyll spank you if you skip school, but thats not necessarily abusive. its more strict, and youd be surprised at the amount of freedom some parents give their kids

yes, arranged marriages do happen. no, they arent necessarily forced, it just means that your parents had a hand in deciding who youll marry. yes, marrying cousins is a thing, but its much less prevalent now (also, ew)

fathers care. a lot. they dont show it, but they do. they also tend to joke around a lot

mothers tend to be the rule enforcers, and by far our moms are our best friends. we tell them EVERYTHING i swear 

aunties gossip a lot

uncles are a safety hazard

its not uncommon to have a large number of cousins (mainly bc arabs tend to have a lot of kids)

the average number of children 3 per woman, but from personal experience the older the generation the more kids (e.g. my great-grandmother had a whopping thirteen kids, my grandmother had seven, my mom has six, but a couple of my aunts only have one or two)

social class/work environment/school environment:

schools tend to be either arab curriculums but there is a high density of american/british curriculum schools

boys and girls tend to be separated in school around age nine/ten but some schools will be mixed genders up till graduation

yes, women work, tho admittedly some of them tend to have careers more than jobs (e.g. photographer, writer, etc while the men handle engineering, economics, etc)

no, not all of us are rich. in fact, countries like jordan, egypt, tunisia, morocco, and yemen (and infamously palestine) are acc struggling w poverty. its mainly just gulf arabs who are rich

furthermore, gulf arabs may be generally rich but a large chunk of them have the same lifestyle as an upper-middle class family in the usa. rich but not too rich. dont be fooled by the videos of guys wearing kandoras and driving lambos

speaking of kandoras...

outfits (keep in mind that spelling may vary since its all transliteration, and pronunciation may vary depending on region) (also keep in mind that even if we still live in the middle east, WE CAN WEAR JEANS AND HOODIES AND BAND SHIRTS. just, usually cover up more in public):

abaya: loose overgarment worn by women

jilbab/chandoor: also worn by women, type of long dress or tunic

the white robe all of yall know is known as a thobe, dishdasha, or kandora

the colored headscarf worn by men is known as a ghuthrain in the gulf, kevfiah in the levant. its kept in place with a black cord called a aghal, and under it they wear a skullcap called a thagiyah

those are the most common ones, however if youd like to get a lil more specific on clothong, the ultimate guide to arab clothing is here (it also has specified clothing for individual countries)

hope this helps, feel free to reblog w more info if you have any !!

#writing tips #writing arabs #arab #writer sources #writing help #writers on tumblr #writeblr #writing advice

[oftlunarialmoon]

5 Imaginary Play Prompts for Age Regressors / Agere - How to Play Pretend (Agere)

Ciao lovelies! Today I have another Agere post for you all! Sorry that it’s been so long since the last one, but I think you will really like this! Have you ever had trouble deciding what to do with your toys when you’re regressed? Do you feel kind of annoyed because it’s hard to pick a game or prompt to go off for pretend play? Well, I’ve got 5 pretend-play prompts for age regressors to talk to you all about today! Let’s get into this and learn how to play pretend, agere edition!

Imaginative play is a super important and fun part of life. As children, imagination shapes your problem solving skills and provides tons of entertainment. But as we get older physically, even if we’re still children on the inside, getting that inspiration back can be very very tricky. Society is somewhat built to suppress imagination in “adults,” so it’s not uncommon to feel like you’ve “lost your imagination” as you get older. What I’ve found that helps me when I want to begin a session of imaginary play, is something to begin with, like a prompt! In this post, I’ve listed and described 5 of my favorite imaginary play prompts that can be used with toys, stuffies, or even just in journaling or drawing! These prompts are the ones I use most often and I enjoy the most. There’s no ranking here, just five ideas in a random order. I really hope these can help those of you who are looking for a place to start when you’re wanting to voluntarily regress!

Idea 1: Game Show!

This first idea is something I find super fun, and it’s easy to customize it to whatever you prefer. The idea is essentially, set up a game show for your stuffies, dolls, toys, etc, whatever you want to do! You can be the game show host, or choose a toy to be the host and announcer. When picking the contestants, try to give them fun back-stories to affect the game! 

I like using this idea in various ways. Sometimes it’s similar to “Total Drama Island”. Sometimes I frame it as a task oriented game show like “Wheel of Fortune” or “Jeopardy!” Other times, I set it up like a cooking show, similar to things like “Great British Bake Off” or “Chopped”. 

You can also have fun with this by imagining the prizes or even crafting them! Sometimes I like to draw and cut out prizes like huge fake checks (like the ones on TV), or award badges. Other times, I like using a treasure chest as a “grand cash prize!” Adding my own touch to these things is really enjoyable and adds to the experience overall.

My last tip for this prompt is, the more outlandish and wild you make the contestants, the more fun you’ll have! Don’t be afraid to make certain characters fall into reality tv tropes, those sort of things are totally fun in this type of game. 

If you’ve used a prompt like this before, comment below how you set up your game show! I would totally love to hear more ideas.

Idea 2: Deserted Island / Shipwrecked

Okay, so this next idea is something I like doing with smaller toys, so I can give them a big island to explore. I usually pick like 3-5 “characters” who get stranded on a deserted island together and have to figure out survival. Sometimes I have items they brought with them, but not always. This is a fun idea if you like camping or outdoorsy type stuff. It can totally be played outside, but that’s not required. 

A tip for playing this inside: use blankets/towels to add different “zones” of play. For example, I like to use my orange Umaru blanket for sand type things, and blue towels or sheets for the ocean. This is helpful if it’s harder for you to visualize environments like that.

Some other ways to add to this prompt, I suggest having a variety of character types to play with. Not everyone can be amazing at survival stuff, and everyone has their strengths and weaknesses. Giving everyone a different special skill can really help with that too. It’s fun to flesh out team dynamics in that way! It’s kind of like one-person-DnD.

It’s perfectly okay to use pre-established stories too! Sometimes I like to act out scenes from Jurassic World Camp Cretaceous with this prompt, or even have similar concepts to Jurassic Park 3. (I’m a huge Jurassic Park/World nerd, I know, lol!) There’s nothing wrong with using existing stories as a starting point or as a “script” of sorts. Imagination comes in all forms, and using inspiration is perfectly normal!

If you’ve played something like this before during your regression, (or childhood!), please comment below, I’d really like to hear the types of stories you use with your toys as well! I’m a huge fan of sharing concepts and ideas as a community, so hearing from you is always my favorite thing, and totally makes my day!

Idea 3: Detectives

This is one of my fave tropes/concepts in media, when a show has an episode where they have to solve a mystery! It’s super fun to watch and even more fun to act out. The way I like to play this one is usually pretty simple, but then escalates over the storyline. 

Usually, I first pick out what type of mystery is being solved. Murder Mysteries can be good (more on that in Idea 4,) but I also like heists, conspiracies, ancient magic, stuff like that! After picking the type of mystery, I like picking 2 characters to be a “watson and holmes” type duo. Sometimes I bring in more characters to work with them, like random experts that are relevant to the type of mystery, key witnesses, etc. 

One of my absolute favorite things to do in this scenario is adding in obstacles/roadblocks, the more absurd, the better. Art museum was robbed of their most valuable statue? 2 detectives begin the case, but the art museum’s cameras were off that day. Taking witness statements? Only two people saw the suspects, but neither person can see well without glasses, and neither were wearing them. Got a clue leading to an address? Turns out to be an ambush trap, and our detectives find out that this mystery is only the beginning to something bigger! Things like that really add to the story, and you can make them as crazy as you want, because you are the author of the story, so you can just invent any solutions to them that you want. It’s such an enjoyable thing to do. 

A tip for this prompt, I enjoy modeling my detective characters off of Sherlock Holmes and Watson from the books, which means getting to give them funny voices and make them interact in fun ways. But you can make your detectives have any personality you want! Are you more of a fan of CSI? You can make serious policemen! Prefer something like Supernatural? Make them slightly snarky and quippy like Sam and Dean! It’s your story, so the tone is 100% up to you!

Similar to this prompt, you could also use the next idea, which is….

Idea 4: “Among Us” Style Mystery / Murder Mystery

This is something I remember playing very often as a bio kid, and now, as well. Starting with about 8-10 characters, who are somehow trapped within a house, ship, etc. Someone is murdered and nobody knows who did it. People keep disappearing or dying until the suspect is found, and nobody leaves until they know who was guilty. You can set this up to be similar to something like “Clue,” or even more similar to “Among Us.” 

A tip I like for this prompt: select a character who is not guilty, but everyone thinks they are. Have them be super suspicious and mysterious, only to dramatically reveal that they are innocent. 

Another fun tip: if you want a horror movie style thing (think like slasher films), select a character to fill the “final girl” trope (doesn’t have to be female though). This is the last person left alive who must face off against the killer in a dramatic final battle. 

I like adding plot twists to these, because it adds so much fun to the story. Here are some of the plot twists I like to add to these stories:

Someone has an evil twin, they are killed secretly and the twin replaces them until the very end.

Someone in the group is working with the killer.

Someone in the group witnesses a murder, but cannot speak and is in shock. They reveal the killer at the very end.

The first person to die was of natural causes, everyone after that was just everyone turning on eachother.

Nobody in the group is actually the killer, and the house is haunted, and a ghost is causing the deaths.

Nobody actually dies, it’s all an elaborate prank on the sole “survivor” and this isn’t revealed until the end.

Someone in the group disappears and is assumed dead, but reappears at the end to defeat the killer.

These sorts of stories are super fun to make overly-dramatic, and also super fun to give all the characters funny voices or weird reactions to events!

And now…. For the last prompt!

Idea 5: Exploring a New Planet 

Maybe I’m a huge nerd, but I grew up enjoying Star Trek TNG and Voyager. My dad and I would watch whole seasons from DvD box sets we had while we ate flash boiled broccoli in the summer (because it was finally in-season!). My favorite characters were Data (from TNG), and Seven of Nine (from Voyager). A big part of my enjoyment of the show was when they would discover new planets or new life forms! 

When I use this prompt, I typically use Star Trek as a basis for things like the space ship name, crew ranks, protocols, etc. I love having characters fight over the validity of the Prime Directive, and have intense moral debates. But that’s just me kind of being a dork. LOL.

To play this prompt, I suggest setting up an area you want to be the new planet. Laying down a blanket or towel in a fun color to be the surface of the planet, then use anything and everything to establish buildings, farms, etc. Make the planet anything you want!

Next, pick your explorers, I usually default to a group of 4-6. Select a mission leader, a science person, and if you want, a galactic ambassador! 

Now, the explorers can visit the planet, being amazed by each new thing they see. You can have them make “audio logs” of their findings and take “readings” of new life forms! You can even have your explorers meet aliens and learn about new cultures and beliefs.

For extra fun, I like to have a scene or two with my explorers trying the new culture’s food. I use Monster High food props for this, mostly, but sometimes I also like to use playdough or floam to sculpt new foods for them.

You can make their adventure as perilous or as interesting as you want! Your explorers can encounter dangerous new weather patterns or plants, or they can have an enjoyable trip meeting new aliens, it’s totally up to you!

Thanks for all the support from you lovelies! We have a pretty awesome community, and it’s all because of you! Thank you for keeping OFT’s online spaces positive, uplifting, and supportive.

And, thank you again for reading! And most importantly, please remember to stay awesome and love yourself! You are amazing just as you are, and you deserve so much love and support. I hope you all give yourselves the love and kindness that you show others.

See you in my next post, video, or whatever comes next!

#agere #age regression #sfw littlespace #sfw agere #age regressor #sfw age regression #agereg #age dreaming #sfw little blog

[broomsick]

Hey norse pagans! *Leans close and whispers*

Reconstructing historical festivals and holidays is especially tough for us, isn’t it? Because there’s just so little evidence of anything, and even though Håkon the Good gave us a pretty good idea of some historical practices, it’s far from enough to have a clear idea of the actual celebrations, right? Plus, I bet your schedule’s tightly packed and that at least twice a year, you find yourself going: “Is it already [insert holiday]???”, and “crap, I forgot to prepare this or that for [insert holiday]”. Well my friend, let me tell you two important tips I’ve learned from years of trying to keep up with the proverbial wheel of the year. The first: holidays aren’t mandatory, especially not if you practice paganism alone, and especially since we know so little of holiday celebrations within germanic tribes, and during the Scandinavian Iron Age. Second *leans closer*: there’s nothing keeping you from making up your own festivals! If history hasn’t left us a lot of evidence on how your main deity/deities was worshipped, who’s to keep you from picking a spot on the calendar and going: “this day is all about [insert deity]”. You’ll have the possibility of listing out pre-determined rites and offerings. Are you going to sing songs? Recite poems? Decorate? Is there a symbol that’s prominent on that day? There are many ways to honor deities, and it’s fun to give oneself a chosen structure to follow when it comes to deity worship. Plus, it’s all the more rewarding to celebrate the seasons according the weather in one’s own area! I’m usually not in the mood to celebrate the coming of spring when it’s still -30 Celsius outside. In that regard, I give myself the leeway to diverge from historical practice and to celebrate the coming of spring when its does actually start to feel like spring! The crops are reaped a bit earlier than the 31st of October, in my area. For this reason, my Álfablót usually happens halfway through that month, and is spread out onto three days (the first for the ancestors, second for the álfar, and third for Freyr). So don’t hesitate to think up your own little holidays, and play around with the freedom it gives you! Just to give you guys a few ideas of where to start with this, I’ll add a little “holiday starter pack” right below!

Step one: choose the date! Is there a day of the week that’s associated with your chosen deity/deities? A season, or type of weather in particular? Maybe a time of day?

Step two: figure out the general “mood” of the holiday. Do you want it to be a time to party? To be grateful? To connect with loved ones? To be at peace? Or a time of self-reflection and silent introspection? (Every year, I dedicate a full day of silence to Víðarr.) What’s the goal of the holiday? What are you celebrating?

Step three: think of some ritual offerings! It’s no big deal if, for whatever reason, you can’t actually offer them up: the idea of these offerings will suffice to help you define this holiday better. Will you be offering a specific food, or drink? Or a particular craft, or a depiction of an animal?

Step four: will you be decorating? If so, what’ll serve as the theme for decorations? Are you going to buy them or make them yourself?

Step five: is there an activity, or activities that you would want to engage in to honor the deity/deities on this day? If so, what’ll it be? I love to cook to honor Freyr, for example (this year, I made a seasonal pumpkin soup in His honor)! You could also go swimming for Rán and Ægir, or take a walk in the woods for Jörð. What do you think would please the deity/deities this day is dedicated to?

Step six: will you be inviting someone, or people over? It doesn’t matter if they’re pagan or not: if you want to celebrate with friends or family, any excuse is good to invite people over! Still, even if you celebrate alone, you’re certain to have lots of fun! So don’t worry about this last step if you feel uncomfortable with it.

#heathenry #norse paganism #norse gods #deities #deity work #spirituality #polytheism #norse polytheism #tips #paganism #festival #pagan holiday #rituals

[ellesliterarycorner]

Tips for Writing Plot Twists

Well, after a very long, unexpected House of the Dragon fandom break, we are now back to our regularly scheduled writing program! Funnily enough, this is kind of House of the Dragon related because today we are talking about writing plot twists. And not just any plot twists, plot twists that make sense and don’t leave your reader wanting to pull their hair out and throw your book across the room. Writing plot twists is a lot harder than it looks. I know that when I read a book with a great plot twists that I actually didn’t see coming, I always wanna give the writers a little round of applause because that is impressive my friends. Especially in the day and age of super common tropes and readers’ having particular expectations, it’s always nice when there’s a new innovative twist out there. Worry not, here are a few simple twists that will help you on your way to writing the best plot twist for your story!

WWTRD??

What would the reader do, my friends? In order to write a good plot twist, you need to try and put yourself in the shoes of the reader who will actually be reading this. This might seem like a pretty obvious tip, but it’s one of the most simple and effective ones out there! As you’re going through your story or even your outline, write down all of the ways that you would normally expect the story to go. What potential twists and turns immediately come to mind? Write every single one of those down and then make sure that your plot twist does not include any of them. Especially if you read and write in the same genre (like I do, fantasy and sci-fi all the way), then your brain probably works in the same way as most of your readers. Like I mentioned above, people who always read in the same genre are used to the conventions and standards of their genre. Unfortunately for us writers, that makes it a lot harder to come up with a plot twist. I recommend looking at the list of plot twists that we’re going to throw out and writing down the opposite of all of those. That’s always good advice, imo. If you feel like your story is getting too predictable, take it in the complete opposite direction. When even you’re surprised by what’s going on, you’re on the right track!

Bread Crumbs a la Hansel and Gretel

The original versions of fairytales are absolutely terrifying. I had to look into them for one of my English classes and boy, oh boy, childhood = ruined. Anyways, just like Hansel and Gretel with their little bread crumbs, you want to subtly guide the readers’ attention away from any potential plot twist, so the twist is all the more surprising. You always want to make your readers think they know what’s going on, then flip all of that on its head. There are a lot of different tools that you can use to do that like red herrings, false flags, or other types of MacGuffins. These decoys deliberately plant false clues, or other misinformation that leads the reader in the wrong direction. Sometimes, they even lead the reader to even think they have reached the happy ending only to reveal their devious nature. HOWEVER, you will noticed that subtly is bolded above because please remember the subtly. This is another one of my big problems with YA fiction because some YA writers seem to think that kids are like legitimately stupid. That’s why I don’t think, imo, there’s been a YA book with an absolutely great plot twist in a while because YA writers tend to spoon-fed their readers everything and try too hard to steer readers in the wrong direction. Readers notice when writers do this, and you don’t want it to happen.

BFFR

Be fricken for real, guys, and that means not only ensuring that your plot twist is believable and necessary but also MAKES SENSE. Plot twists making sense is a problem that seems to have popped up in the last five years in all genres not just YA, I would say. Authors seem to focus a lot on the part of the definition of plot twists that says sudden, unexpected and shocking change of direction whilst ignoring the part that includes realistic and reasonable. To me, the realistic and reasonable part is almost more important. If a super unpredictable plot twist pops up out of nowhere without even relating to the story, of course I’m gonna be surprised. Does that mean I’m going to be surprised? No, it does not. Which leads us to the most important lesson: SHOCK VALUE FOR THE SAKE OF SHOCK VALUE IS NOT GOOD. It’s just not. That means not resorting to gimmicks or having a plot twist just to have one. Just like everything else in your story, plot twists should serve to further the story in some way. Not every story needs a plot twist, and some stories are far better off without them!

Phone a Friend!

When in doubt, phone a friend! Writer’s block, phone a friend! Need advice on character development, phone a friend! Struggling with plot twists, phone a friend! In this case, beta readers. Like I said above, stepping into the reader’s shoes is a great way to think of ideas for plot twists, and getting beta readers to read your story is a great way to test out the believability of your plot twist once you’ve written it. Ask them wether or not they thought it was effective within the overall plot, did they believe it, did they see it coming, and overall what about it worked and didn’t work for them. But, don’t ask them about any of this until after they’ve already read the book. You don’t want them to go into the story hunting for a plot twist because they won’t react the same way that an actual prospective reader would. If they immediately come to you, gushing about how amazing the plot twist was and how much they loved it, you know you’re doing something writer. And on the flip side, if they say, wait what plot twist, you know you still have a little work to do!

#writers #writers on tumblr #writing #writing tips #writing tip #writing plot twists #writing resources #writing resource #writing reference #writers of ig #writers of instagram #writersofig #writersofinstagram

[duskkodesh]

I've had rats for years at this point now and finally want to put down the best tips I've learned. This won't work for everyone, some are very conditional to me, but maybe some of these will help someone. Fleece hammocks: Boo. Microplastics and too warming. Canvas hammocks: Yes, please. Highly washable. Far more tough. I wish they were easier to find. Coiled rope baskets are also a godsend. I hang them by the handles in the cage, they love them way more than anything marketed to rats. Bottles are nice but some rats wanna splash and have a place to wash their little hands. Fresh in pod peas are by the pound at my supermarket. I usually spend 70 cents on the amount for several treat sessions. All my frozen peas end up getting freezer burnt by the time I get halfway through the bag. Antibiotics will be needed if you keep rats. Do not give antibiotics with dairy, many classes of antibiotics bond to calcium thereby making them far less effective. Speaking of, antibiotics seem to have the hardest taste to cover up. Ground meat baby food, Hershey simply five syrup (Just a little), peanut powder (No added sugar, oils), fruit compote/jam/jelly, small absorbent bread snacks/cereal, smushed pasta, cream of wheat, are all options to get meds into rats. You can call exotic vets and ask for an estimate on a basic rat exam. Do it, the prices vary WILDLY. We had a vet who charged us 35$ to see three rats at once and one who quoted us 200$ to look at one. You're gonna notice a trend if you call vets in higher class/rich areas. Fuck em'. Also ask your vet if you can keep a supply of meds on hand just in case. If they last at room temp you can buy some preemptively. Things like doxycycline you can get from human pharmacies.

Zip ties are god. All hail zip ties. Same with swivel clasps. Between them both you can cage mount anything your heart desires.

Leave bedding in a hot car or freezing conditions for a night. Warehouses get mites. Mites are a dick to deal with. Kill em' all.

Give them a variety of fresh things while they're young. Not always but sometimes I'd get an older gent rescue who had no idea what to do with berries or tomatoes and would refuse them. They learn better what is safe when young. At some point you will have an emergency. Make sure you know where an emergency vet is and that they keep night/weekend hours. Keep funds on hand for that day.

Rats hide pain well. When they age you may need to start pain management if you notice them moving differently even if they don't show their pain blatantly. Just start with low doses and see if they act like their old selves again. Research your breeders. Get recommendations from other rat people. Check and see if there are rat rescues in your area. Also the Humane Society sometimes takes in rodents.

Controversial take: You will encounter people in ratkeeping who say buying feeders is a sin. It's not. Feeder supply will exist whether or not every rat fancier boycotts them. We are far far fewer in number than snake/lizard people. Wherever you got your rats it's valid so long as you give them healthcare, good nutritious food, love, and mental stimulation. A lot of the 'foods to avoid, foods to include' lists are not researched. I've seen lists that ban chocolate. Rats freaking love chocolate they just need to take it easy on fats and sugars but cocoa powder can be a good mix in and can help ratty blood flow. I've seen people ban mango. if you read the study that led to this they gave rats an obscene amount of D-limonene to trigger cancer and small amounts had no side effects at all. Read the studies, look for sources.

#Rats #Ratblr #fancy rats #pet rats #petblr #I'm gonna take heat over my view on feeders

[jellogram]

WRITING TIPS FOR PEOPLE WITH ADHD

You guys liked my other post with writing tips, so I thought I'd make a list for this too. I have ADHD combined type and I've written two novels and dozens of short stories, so here is what works for me!

If you have meds, take them a while before you start working and do something else. I like to play dress up games while I wait for them to kick in, because it's creative enough to wake up my brain. Doll Divine has really cool and artistic games. Only use activities that have clear end points so it's easier to stop when your meds have kicked in. Stay away from open world games or anything with an endless scroll.

Have special locations that you only use to write. Make sure you bring a flannel or jacket in case the AC is too cold, and bring headphones in case there's noises there. Try several different places until you find something comfortable. I like casual spaces where there's nooks and comfy chairs. Coffee shops are my go-to.

If you can't leave the house, sit in a particular spot in your room and make that your writing spot. Only sit in that spot when you're writing.

Speaking of headphones, rainymood.com is my go-to for drowning out noise. Usually I like background chatter, but if there's a buzzing fan or someone talking too loud on the phone, this site helps.

Start by re-reading what you wrote last time and making small edits. You might have to read it a few times before you can pay attention and that's okay. Just keep re-reading and making edits as you notice them until you feel more in the zone.

If you are at home, take breaks to put on music and jump around. I like Latin music for this purpose. If you're in public, try just walking around the building a couple times.

If I really can't get into it, for some reason it helps to take a break and make some tea. Green tea with ginger is calming enough to help me focus while also having a little boost of caffeine.

If you notice big changes need to be made and you can't relax until you deal with it but know it would take ages to fix, put it in a comment and move on.

If you want to get a big distracting section out of your way without totally deleting it, you can use a separate doc and copy paste it in there. Or download the SideNote add-on for Google docs.

Set reminders on your phone to eat and go to the bathroom in case you get too hyperfocused. I've forgotten to eat for entire days because I was writing, so it's good to have a back-up in case you go down the rabbit hole.

If you start getting really frustrated that you can't focus and you feel like you want to scream, take a break. Get a snack. Play sudoku. Make some coffee or tea. Sit outside. Be wary of checking your phone though, because it's easy to get wrapped up in that.

I tend to put all my usual fidget toys somewhere I can't get to them when I'm writing, because I find that if I pick one up to think, I can't put it back down to start typing. Everyone is different but look out for that and if you find them distracting you, set them aside.

Consider turning off your phone. If that's not an option, a lot of phones have a wellness feature that allows you to set app timers or turn your screen black and white. Consider setting your phone to go into wellness mode when it's time to write so it's less tempting.

Lastly, there are going to be days when it just doesn't work. Even with my meds, I sometimes just spend three hours beating my head against a wall and then go home. It's okay. Creative work is hard for anyone, especially when you're fighting your ADHD every step of the way. Don't beat yourself up and don't let it discourage you. Even if you didn't put anything down, you still spent some time thinking about writing, and that's worth something. Try again the next day and the day after and you'll get it eventually. The flow state is worth trying for.

Update: bolded some important items for accessibility

#writing #writing tips #writing help #writers #adhd #writing with adhd #adhd study tips #adhd studyblr #tips for writers #writeblr #studyblr

[autisticlifelessons]

Tips for going shopping as an Autistic person

Even in the age of internet shopping, most people still do need or even want to go into a physical store at some point, whether to pick up essentials or to browse. But shopping can be a really overwhelming experience for autistic people, between dealing with crowds, loud music, the sheer amount of products available, remembering what you came to buy, and so many other things.

Whilst I do enjoy browsing and even grocery shopping, there are some steps I take to make the experience more pleasant with regard to my neurodivergent traits.

1. Shop at quiet times - wherever possible, I try to go for just after opening time when there usually aren't too many people around. I find it so much more relaxing, and I'm more likely to try things on and can think more clearly about options in different stores. A lot of supermarkets also have a quiet hour once a week when they switch off the music and dim the lights, reducing the sensory input, which is a good option is grocery shopping is challenging for you.

2. Use any items that help you - if things like ear defenders, sunglasses and fidget toys - or anything else - are useful, don't be afraid to bring them with you! It may be a bit strange while you get used to using them in public, but the vast majority of people won't pay any attention to you and even if they do it's none of their business, anyway. I highly recommend getting a sunflower lanyard (if you don't know what that is you can read more about it here), as I find that when I'm wearing it people generally give me a bit more space, and staff in places trained about them are friendlier and better at communicating.

3. Use a list - if I want to go grocery shopping or am looking for something specific, I find making a list of what to buy is really helpful. It helps keep me focussed, reduces stress as I'm not trying to hold it all in my head, and reassures me I haven't forgotten anything.

4. Take a break - if I'm going to be out shopping for any longer than a couple of hours, I always ensure to include a pit stop for coffee or lunch (or cocktails lol). Being hungry or thirsty makes it more likely I'm going to feel overwhelmed, especially as the shops get busier and my feet get sore. You don't need to push yourself to keep going, it's perfectly fine and very sensible to build in time to rest so you can recharge.

5. Know your limits - if, despite your best efforts, you are feeling stressed, anxious, overwhelmed, something happens to throw you off or are just not having a good day, you are allowed to just go home. It's ok. Even if shopping was part of your plan for the day. Get some rest, and try again another time.

These tips are written from the perspective of an autistic person who prefers to go shopping alone, but if being out in public makes you anxious, take someone with you if you find that helps. We are all different, so feel free to experiment with different strategies to find what suits you.

Follow me for more!

#autism #autistic adult #actually autistic #autistic #neurodivergent #neurodiverse #neurodiversity #autistic tips

[kitsune-oji]

hiii it's the luci and Satan anon again!! sorry for not being too specific (⁠๑⁠•⁠﹏⁠•⁠) as for ideas, maybe nicknames they'd give the reader, how they'd care for them (if they're strict or not and the like!), activities they'd enjoy with them?

and thank u for telling me about the term btw!! I had no idea (⁠•⁠ ⁠▽⁠ ⁠•⁠;⁠) I'll be more careful in da future!

Carer! Lucifer & Satan

Yeah sure, I hope this is what you meant! And no problem, I think there's no shame in not knowing something before. We all learn smth new every day and it's better not to assume something has been done out of maliciousness if it could be lack of knowledge. So I'm glad that I could help out in that way :) /gen

Gn! Reader

Relationships: Lucifer & Mc, Satan & Mc

Warnings/Tags: Age Regression, Regressor Reader, Fictional Carers, punishment mention, rules mention, headpats, bugs mention

Lucifer

Nicknames for tiny: little one, prince/ss/x, my child, puppy (depending on what you're ok with or like of course)

As a carer, Lucifer tends to be on the stricter side

This means he has clear rules and consequences for if you break them. However, they're mostly rules like not eating too much candy, brushing your teeth on time, managing screen time and making sure to drink enough water (not just juice!)

Consequences depend on the rule you broke, so for example if you ate candy in secret and lied, Lucifer would not hand out anymore candy for a certain amount of time or if you don't brush your teeth, he will come to you every night and brush them together with you to make sure you keep up with it now

"punishments" just turn out to do more harm than good usually and at least with you, he tries to restrain himself and show that he cares for you and your wellbeing, instead of making you fear and avoid him

Lucifer is also a big fan of work sheets and if you're old enough to work on them, likes to set you up in his office so you two can do "work" side by side

He even grades papers if possible, gives you little gold stickers and other rewards like candy and praises you for a job well done

Let's you sleep in his lap while he works too - he won't even complain when his legs fall asleep and just summon a cushion to make it easier on his legs while letting you sleep

Pats your head a lot - when he praises you, when he walks past you as you play, when you hug or cuddle and so on

Satan

Nicknames for tiny: kitty, pumpkin, kiddo, little one, bud (depending on what you're ok with or like of course)

As a carer, Satan is not necessarily strict per se but definitely goes more in that direction

He sets up a whole plan with you, makes little to do lists with illustrations so you remember to do things like brush your teeth, wash your face etc before bed for example

Having read into parenting books and tips to make sure he's not doing anything wrong, Satan understands quite a bit more about what things can help you, why you may react in some ways and how to work on problems in a way that isn't forced but a collaborative effort between you two

He's very enamored with you and even plays with you with stuffies if you like that. There are a bunch of cat stuffies that found their way on his bed and towers of books over time - so there's always one on hand when he wants to talk to you 'through' them

"Mr Claw wants to ask if you want to read a book together? How about..."

Favorite activity together is definitely reading out loud for you. Especially when it's an interactive book, like the ones that have little images instead of words so the kid can read out loud together with the adult

Also loves going outside though and playing in the park. If you like bugs, you can catch them and figure out what it's called together with an encyclopedia or if you don't, there are enough plants and the like outside you can identify!

Likes to give you little tasks/activities like finding something for every color of the rainbow and doing fun quizzes on stuff you learnt that day

Ruffles your hair if it's fine with you, otherwise just pats you on the head - when you're joking around, when you've gotten something right/done a good job and so on

#obey me shall we date #mine #om! swd #obey me nightbringer #race neutral mc #gender neutral reader #gn mc #fluff #age regressor reader #fandom agere #obey me agere #age regression #obey me lucifer #obey me satan #Headcanons #Hcs

[writingquestionsanswered]

Hi,

Do you have any tips on how to write a character who has a bond with a symbiote?

Both help each other to survive, as character A (the human) was severely wounded and character B (the symbiote, a spirit) heals these wounds and keeps them from 'opening up again'. In return, they share a body, which keeps Character B alive as he receives the necessary nutrients to build up energy. In my mind, the whole thing goes in the direction of Venom from Marvel or Justice from Dragon Age.

My biggest problem is to write the whole thing so that it doesn't sound too absurd and to include character B's thoughts or just to remind myself that they are there. Do you have any tips or resources for this?

Searching the internet doesn't bring up anything for me.

Thank you for your time and kind regards.

Writing a Symbiote and Host

This is outside of my wheelhouse as far as personal writing experience goes, however I have a few directions I can point you into for research, as well as some general advice and parallel advice.

Symbiotes fall under the "body and host" trope, and there are a whole bunch of subtropes under that umbrella. I'm not exactly sure which one your story would fall under, however here is the entry at TV Tropes along with the subtrope list at the bottom. Just reading through the the trope entry and the applicable-sounding subtropes can give you a lot of helpful information. You might also read up on the Two Beings, One Body trope as well as the Sharing a Body trope--and look through the examples of both--as this can give you some ideas/information about how to portray it believably and in a way that doesn't let you (or the reader) forget the symbiote is there.

And my feeling on that last bit--making sure the symbiote isn't forgotten and including their thoughts--would be that you'll want to convey those via internal dialogue between the two characters. What's leaping into my mind here is Marvel's Moon Knight if you've seen it. It's not a symbiote situation, but I'm just thinking of the way Marc speaks to Steven (the "host") inside his head, and Steven verbally responds. So, they have a conversation but anyone witnessing can only hear Steven's side of it, obviously, since Marc's end is inside Steven's head. You could also just have them communicate via fully internal dialogue, so the conversation takes place entirely via thought. Either way, having this sort of running dialogue between them allows you to keep the symbiote present in the story.

There are all kinds of devices you could use to give this a relevant framework. Ultimately, you can assign the symbiote a character role that they can fulfill while they're recharging inside the host's body. For example, they could be a mentor... like let's say your character is afraid of public speaking--which advancement in their job requires--so they feel stuck where they're at. But the symbiote, by way of being in their head and experiencing what they're experiencing, coaches them to do better and helps them get over their fear. They could be the comic relief if you want your story to have a bit of levity. Or they could be the foil to the host character. They could even just fulfill a sort of sidekick role, but giving them a role will help give them a place in the story outside of just being stuck in your character's head.

I hope that helps!

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I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

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