#I might reblog with the old one later to compare better

[magic-multicolored-miracle]

I was tagged by @seancekitsch to generate a moodboard out of a search for name+core on pinterest

Tagging: @exlibrisfangirl @sennextheassasinkingoflight @bullet-prooflove @misskittysmagicportal @santacarlahorrorshow and anyone else that wants to play (no pressure)

It's very interesting to me the difference between this one and the one I made in 2020 for the same (or a very similar) challenge. The search results had a lot less quotes, and a little bit more of a warmer? color palette (less blue). Still a mix of things and nature, and a lot of moonrises and lightning. More ancient, less nostalgic grunge.

Neither one is wrong.

#I wonder if I used my legal name instead of Shye last time? #I really like this one #it's a little bit spooky without being Too Much #aesthetic challenge #moodboard #tag game #I might reblog with the old one later to compare better

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

The Byers-Harrington Story

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Byers! Female Reader

Genre: follows the shows plot lines, but will have moments that it diverges canon.

Warnings: some cussing, there is two slurs at the very beginning (i used show dialog, i used a different word in place of f**), Lonnie being a deadbeat. should be it.

WC: 3.6K (the most I’ve ever written)

Summary: Will Byers has gone missing, so of course his family is worried and looking for him. Now what happens when one unsuspecting Byers family member gets pulled into this dungeons and dragons mystery along with an old middle school crush? Romance hopefully.

A/N: this is a female reader, i do use she/her pronouns. I’m sorry I’ll try and get better with my writing and making sure i don’t use female pronouns too much so everyone could feel as included as possible. also if you reblog this story let me know if theres anything you would like to see in future installments. I’m going to try and start writing part two hopefully this week. I also have work coming up soon so it will be a bit harder to get more installments done, but I’m trying. I’m gonna try and get season one parts done hopefully by the end of august. also yes there will be parts that are mostly focusing on the byers because this is a byers read so of course they are going to be worried about their family and stuff.

next chapter

The day your little brother went missing was when your world was thrown around like the inside of a tornado; everything was off balance, thrown around, and a disaster.

One major thing was being thrown into the strong, charming, and handsome gravitational pull of one Steve Harrington. 

Oh, also monsters, a girl with telepathic powers, government conspiracies, and an alternative dimension called ‘the upside down’; but all those things become crazier later as time moves.

Your little brother Will Byers had gone missing for about 10 hours. He was only 12 years old, a tiny boy compared to many others in his grade. It’s the fall moving into winter time meaning it gets colder at night, meaning he shouldn’t be running around in the woods or something.

Your mom and you went to Chief Hopper and asked if he could help look into Will’s sudden disappearance and started to question if your dad might know anything. The thought of Will going to see your dad made you laugh inside, but you only showed your disdain for that thought with a light scoff.

“No, Lonnie wouldn’t know anything about where Will is,” your mom spoke to the Chief.

“He’s a deadbeat and doesn’t care about any of us, especially Will. Always calling him names like queer and fairy,” you spoke out.

The Chief and Joyce both turned to look at you when you spoke almost like they forgot you were in the room. Joyce just placed one of her hands on your thigh that was closest to her and rubbed her thumb back and forth while her other hand held a lit cigarette.You noticed that the Chief was still looking at you, his gaze made you shrink in on yourself a bit, remembering that you spoke out in front of adults.

“Are you saying that this could be a hate crime of some sort?”

“What?”

“Well, she said that Lonnie called him names and you said he was getting bullied at school,” the Chief replied to the both of you.

“Look Hop, I don’t know, all I know is that my baby boy is somewhere out there all by himself probably scared to death,” Joyce firmly replied.

The Chief, Hopper, leaned his elbows onto his wood desk and ran his hands over his face, stroking his beard. You could see his eyes moving back and forth between you and Joyce, watching the both of you, probably analyzing your emotions that were displayed openly to the world on your faces.

He sighed out after about a minute of silence and everyone’s breathing, “okay I’ll see what I can find.”

You both just sighed out then left the office, leaving the station and heading home. Neither you nor Jonathan wanted to go to school today, the three of you decided to search the woods surrounding your home and make a missing person poster.

…

The following day Chief Hopper stopped by the house early in the morning wanting to talk with your mom again, still wanting to follow the Lonnie lead, even though all three of you knew it was a waste of time.

Jonathan made the three of you breakfast which consisted of eggs and toast, which is the usual most days. Joyce was smoking again, something the three of you (you, Jonathan, and Will) wish she would stop, but it’s a nervous habit of hers.

“What? No, be careful of the poster.”

“Yeah, okay. All right,” Jonathan replied.

Joyce just stared at the plate of eggs and toast Jonathan placed in front of her, not bothering to pick up a slice of food.

“I can’t eat.”

“Mom please, just a little?” you asked of her, not wanting to watch your mom not take care of herself.

She just looked at Jonathan like you didn’t even say anything, you just sighed onto your plate.

“Listen. Listen, the Xerox place opens in, like, 30 minutes,” she says as she checks her watch for the time.

“Yeah.”

“And I don’t want you to go alone…”

“I’ll go with him,” you spoke up around a mouth full of eggs.

Joyce and Jonathan turned their heads in your direction then they turned to look at each other, having a silent conversation between their eyes. It looked like Joyce was about to say something before Jonathan spoke up.

“Yeah that's fine, I’ll drop you off at school after.”

You just nodded your head and went back to eating, but Joyce still looked apprehensive about you going and spoke up, “no I’ll have Karen take Jonathan instead since you should be at school and I need to be here.”

“Mom-”

“Mom, it's fine.”

She looked between the both of you and just sighed and threw her hands up into an ‘alright’ gesture.

“We need to make, what, 200, 300 copies?”

“That’s ten cents a copy mom.”

You could see Joyce starting to get more frazzled and slowly losing the loose hold of her emotions, her hands shaking as she reaches for her wallet.

“Mom,” you whispered while grabbing her hand.

Jonathan placed a hand on her shoulder, “you can’t get like this, okay?”

“I’m sorry,” she sniffled out to both of you.

“It’s okay mom, we’ll get through this and get Will back,” you stated.

The three of you just sat in silence for a moment, your plates of cold eggs and toast not being touched by anyone. The moment was broken by the knocking on the front door bringing your attention away. Joyce got up from the table, Jonathan and yourself just a few steps behind her as she opened the door to Chief Hopper looking solemn with his hat held between his hands.

“We’ve been waiting for six hours.”

“I’m sorry I got here as soon as I could.”

“Six hours,” Joyce repeated.

“Mom, just let him tell us what they found, okay?” you spoke from just a step behind her trying to make sure she doesn’t have some type of breakdown.

Hopper sighed, “we’ve been searching all night. Went all the way to Cartersville.”

Joyce bunched her shoulders high while wringing her hands together, “and?”

“Nothing,” Hopper said quietly.

“Oh god,” Joyce cried out.

You pulled your mom into a hug for her sake, but also yours since you didn’t want to start crying at this moment. 

Hopper cleared his throat, “Flo says you got a call last night.”

Joyce sniffled and replied with a “yeah” and brought him over to the burnt landline.

After a kinda tense conversation regarding the nature of the phone call, Hopper brought up Lonnie again and decided he’s gonna check him out.

“You’re wasting your time,” Joyce shouted out to a retreating Hopper.

Joyce just sighed out for probably the 30th time that day and retreated into the kitchen. You were following just behind her when you noticed Jonathan walking out the front door and closing it quietly. You furrowed your brows for a moment then decided you’ll ask him about that when you leave.

You walk up to your mom who was back to sitting at the kitchen table with another cigarette lit between her lips while she was looking at Will’s missing persons poster. Her breaths were coming out shaky every time she exhaled puffs of smoke, tears slowly making their way out of her tear ducts and gently falling down the curve of her cheeks and nose bridge. You squat down to the floor, placing your hands on her knees knowing she needed to be reminded of you and Jonathan.“Mom, everything is going to be okay, I’ll make sure of it.”

“Oh honey,” was all she got out before you engulfed her with a lung-breaking hug.

You heard Jonathan before you saw him. You pulled away from your mom and gave her a quick kiss on the crown of her head and grabbed the poster along with your school bag, heading out the front door with Jonathan just behind you. When he got into his car and started the engine was when you decided to bring up the topic.

“So what did you talk about with Hopper earlier?”

Jonathan barely moved his head in your direction at your comment, just a slight side eye. His gaze stayed focused on the road, all the way to the Xerox place. When the two of you were inside the place waiting for your stack of copied posters, you posed the question again to Jonathan and did not take silence for any type of answer.

“I’m gonna visit Lonnie after I drop you off,” was Jonathan’s curt reply to your pestering.It took you a moment to process what he just said to you because why would he be going to Lonnie’s unless “is that what you were talking to Hopper about?”

He just gave you a side eye to your question giving you information that you didn’t know “he said not to, didn’t he?”

Still no verbal answer to either question, but Jonathan doesn’t talk much anyway. Though after years of living together you were able to read his tells, side eyes and being even quieter were usual his tells for most things that he was trying to keep secret.

“Well if you’re going to Lonnie’s, I’m joining.”

That got Jonathan’s undivided attention making him whip his head so fast at your statement, it’s surprising he didn’t get whiplash. You just kept your steady gaze on his blown-out look like he saw a ghost. Jonathan was about to open his mouth, probably to tell you ‘it’s not happening, not in a million years,’ but the nice lady at the counter came back with your poster and the copies interrupting Jonathan. You thanked her with a nice smile and grabbed the stack and walked away in the direction of the exit to head to the car.

“(Y/n),” Jonathan finally spoke up when the both of you left the store.

You didn’t even turn your head, pretending to not acknowledge that he said your name, and just stood on the passenger side of the car waiting for Jonathan to open his side.

“(Y/n)-” “No Jonathan, we both know what a piece of shit Lonnie is so I’m not letting you go over there by yourself. End of discussion.”

And it was, Jonathan just sighed and got into the car to drive to the school.

When the car was parked in Jonathan’s spot you both grabbed a couple of posters and went inside. You and Jonathan both split up and would be back up by the entrance within 10 minutes. You pinned a few posters on cork boards that were mounted onto the halls and even gave a few to the office to see if they could pass them out. When you were satisfied with how many you got out you started back towards the entrance of the school when you skidded to a stop.

Jonathan was pinning a poster up and just a few feet away there they were. Tommy H., his girlfriend Carol, Nancy Wheeler, Barb Holland, and the King of Hawkins high himself Steve Harrington. All five of them just watched Jonathan behind his back, as you were walking closer you could hear a little bit of their conversation.

“I don’t think he speaks.”

“How much do you want to bet he killed him?” Tommy H’s dumbass spoke up.

Your blood started to boil at the fact they were making fun of your missing brother and assumed that Jonathan killed him. You started to storm over to their little group just as you saw Steve shove Tommy with his elbow and told him to shut up. Just as you were behind them you saw Nancy walk away and over to Jonathan.You tapped Tommy H on his shoulder to draw his attention towards you and with an unsuspecting smile, you slapped him across the face. You didn’t care if you got in trouble, no one talks badly about your family.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Tommy shouted while holding his cheek with one hand.

“If I hear you talk about my family like you did just now, it will be a lot worse than a slap Tommy,” and you walked away.

“Are we sure you didn’t have something to do with his disappearance?” you heard Carol shout back to your retreating figure.

“Fuck off Carol,” was all you gave back in reply.

…

“So you want to talk about what happened back at school?”

Jonathan took a quick look at you taking his eyes off the road for a second before looking back ahead, keeping a steady grip on the steering wheel, the rain being the noise draining out most of the world along with the music as it was pelting against the windshield and roof. You just kept your gaze focused outside of the window with your head leaning against the glass and your fist pushing into your cheek.You didn’t say anything back so that was the answer to Jonathan’s question. All you thought about right now was the dangerous ideas conjuring in your mind. The idea that Will would run away to Lonnie’s was absurd and you all knew that, but the thought of Lonnie doing something horrible to your little brother made you want to throw up what little food you had for breakfast. The car coming to a stop pulled you from your nightmares and brought you to the monster's house instead.

“Okay in and out, that’s it.”

You and Jonathan both looked at each other trying to gauge what the other was feeling at this moment. Probably scared, terrified of finding Will here, angry at the thought of seeing Lonnie again, but you both put those aside and nodded at each other and got out of the car.

Jonathan walked ahead of you and pounded his fist against the door, after a few seconds he banged his fist again and this time you both could faintly hear a female voice inside the house.

“Ugh, Cynthia,” you said with an eye roll.

Cynthia opened the door and just the noise of her aggressively chewing her gum was pissing you off very fast.“Can I help you?”

“Yeah, is Lonnie around?” Jonathan asked.

She just looked between the both of you, “yeah, he’s out back. What do you want?”

“To look around,” Jonathan said as he walked into the house with you following just behind. You both began to split up looking everywhere Will could possibly be hidden.

“Hey, what do you think you’re doing? Hey!”

“We’ll be fast,” was all you replied back.

You and Jonathan looked into different rooms, closets, cupboards, anywhere shouting his name to let him know you were here. Just as you finished looking on your side of the house walking back towards Jonathan when Lonnie came out of nowhere pushing him up against the wall.

“Jonathan!” you yelled out.

Lonnie looked in your direction after hearing your cry and just gave a disgusting grin your way looking back at Jonathan, “looks like the bitch is still around.”

“Get off!” Jonathan yelled with a cry pushing Lonnie by the chest to get him away.

Lonnie just smiled and watched Jonathan like he was waiting for him to make his next move, “you’ve gotten strong. Bet she’s gotten weaker.”

He indicated the last part in your direction. You just crossed your arms over your chest, trying to give you some type of physical protection even though it would have no effect. Jonathan was the one who took most of the physical violence from Lonnie, you would take some to if Jonathan wasn’t around, but it was mostly Jonathan being everyone’s savior.

“Will someone please explain what is going on?” Cynthia spoke up from the end of the hallway just behind you.

“Jonathan, (Y/n), this is Cynthia. Cynthia, this is Jonathan and (Y/n), my kids”

“Yea nice to meet you Cynthia and not great to see you again Lonnie, but we have to leave.” 

You moved to grab Jonathan by his denim jacket and made for the door. The small, trashed house was starting to make you feel like you couldn’t breathe, like it was slowly closing in on you, closing you off from the safe world outside keeping you trapped inside with Lonnie. When you got outside you started to walk towards Jonathan’s car, but saw that he stopped by Lonnie’s and checked the trunk. You held your breath hoping that Will wasn’t in there. Jonathan closed the trunk and turned his head towards you and shook it ‘no’ which made you release your breath.

You decided to just wait for Jonathan in the car not wanting to have any more interactions with Lonnie. As you waited in the car you could see that Jonathan and Lonnie were having some type of conversation, Jonathan slamming a missing persons poster into Lonnie’s chest, and then him walking away back to the car. Cynthia came out and grabbed onto Lonnie from behind saying something that you couldn’t give two shits about, so with a final eye roll you pulled your gaze forward just as Jonathan opened his door.

…

Yea you hated this job, but it paid okay money plus tips and you’ve only had it for five months, waiting for something better to come along. Working at Lenny’s Pizza was pretty easy, but it made you want to rip your hair out because of the customers. You’ve already called out for the past two days so you took a shift from a coworker since they had last minute plans. And just as you were finishing up with your last 15 minutes on the clock, you had to make a delivery, which luckily would be the last thing for the day so not too bad if you might say.

However when you got to the house and knocked on the front door, your night was ruined even worse after today's events. Steve Harrington opened the door and you froze into a block of ice. Of course the last delivery of your night had to be at Steve’s house, and Carol and Tommy H. were probably here too, shit.

“Byers?”

A voice snapped you out of your daze and you looked to see Steve staring at your face and then you saw the way his eyes made a quick scan of your uniform. You felt heat rush to your ears which were luckily covered by your hair and the employee hat.

Look you may not really like Steve at this point in time, but you used to have a little crush on him in middle school. He was different back then, yea he still had the Harrington charm that he uses to this day, but he was a lot nicer to everyone, he was sweet, helpful and considerate. Now because he’s in the ‘popular crowd’ he’s mostly a douchebag, though in your head you think it’s mostly because he hangs out with idiots like Carol and Tommy H. He’s also just very handsome with his well crafted hair and his gorgeous smile-

“Oh look who it is!” Carol and her annoying voice have made their way into your brain now.

You look just past Steve and see Carol standing just inside the sliding door. You couldn’t see who else was here tonight, but you for sure knew Tommy was here so you just wanted to leave.You look back to Steve to see he was still looking at you, watching you, it made a slight shiver go up your spine.

“Um, it’ll be 10.73”

Steve handed you a 20 and you didn’t know what to do for a moment when his fingers grazed your palm. You looked at the bill and then looked back at him with a sort of dumbfounded look.

“I-I don’t have change on me…”

“Keep the change, it can be your tip,” he said with a smile to his face.

You just gave a tight lipped smile back to him, said good night and headed back to the company car. You took one glance over your shoulder when you got to the drivers side and saw that Steve was still at his door looking at you. You felt your nervousness get the best of you so you rushed inside the car and left, just wanting to be home right now in bed.

When you did get home you saw your mom outside standing by her car. You dropped your bike in the grass near her car and you saw her jump at the noise.

“Mom, are you okay?” That was kinda a rhetorical question seeing as she hasn’t been okay for the past two days.

She was shaking and was just staring at the house. You turned your head in the direction of the house as well when suddenly the lights started to flicker inside.

“Mom, did you forget to pay the electric company or something?”

Still nothing, so you walked closer to her side and placed a hand on her shoulder. Her head finally turned towards you and you saw the look in her eyes. She was scared.

“What happened?” “The lights, and Will’s room, and-”

“Mom,” “And I heard this noise-”

“Mom!”

It went quiet after you shouted at her, but you needed to. She was slowly spiraling and you couldn’t have her do that, you didn’t want to constantly have to worry about her while also trying to find Will. It was too much pressure on both you and Jonathan.

“Mom, let's just go to bed, it's late,” you sighed.

She moved her eyes back to the house and you followed in her movement, seeing the lights flicker again, but you didn’t care about that right now. You just looked back at her and linked your fingers with hers and pulled her behind you as you walked to the house, back inside your haunted house. 

#steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fic #steve harringing x reader #steve harrington x byers!reader #steve harrington x female reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington angst #reader insert #stranger things imagine #stranger things fic #stranger things #stranger things series #stranger things self inster #The Byers Harrington Story

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

sunflower, chapter twelve

summary: a tale of the first day back after Spencer got shot

warnings: references to 2x15, 5x01, 9x23 and 9x24, injured Spencer, talk of trauma, talk of addiction, anxiety, allusion to being hyper focused

word count: 1301

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The first morning after he came back, the two of you slept in. Or Spencer did actually wake up at his usual early time, but you’d just crawled further into him, successfully lulling him back to sleep.

When 11 came around, you were both wide awake, lying there, cuddling as carefully as you could. Spencer was very insistent on having you pressed up against him, even with you protesting about accidentally hurting him, he wouldn’t let you out of his grasp.

That morning he told you everything that had happened. From the details about the case, to the shooting, to Garcia saving his life. You remembered her. That sweet, colourful lady had saved Spencer’s life? She was the reason he was in your arms at this very moment. You cried a lot, of course. Both of you did, trying to process the shock of it all. But he did his best to reassure you that it was okay. Even if you didn’t fully believe him, he still tried.

Later, when you were chatting about how the healing process was gonna go, he casually just mentioned the fact that he had been shot before and your eyebrows shot up.

“You have what?!” you shouted in disbelief, sitting straight up in the bed.

“Yeah,” he shrugged.

“When? Where?”

“About 4 years and 276 days ago. The case that it happened during was here in Virginia.”

“No, not where in the country, where on your body!”

“Oh, my left knee.”

Reaching down, you yanked his pant leg up revealing, sure enough, a pale scar. Tracing it with your pointer finger, you asked, still completely stunned, “how did I not know about this?”

“I don’t know, but then again I don’t know about all of your scars either.”

“Well, I think there is a big difference between my unimpressive collection of scars, all acquired during my childhood, compared to a fucking bullet wound. Why would I tell you the dramatic tale of me falling off a swing at the ripe old age of 6?”

“You fell off a swing?” he asked, generally concerned.

Looking down, ignoring his question, “I mean, I know that you work for the FBI, but for some reason, this didn’t occur to me as a possibility of what could happen to you out there.”

Interlocking his fingers with yours, “if it helps, it’s not that often that I go out into the field.”

“Well, it’s clearly often enough!”

“Y/n, look at me,” his thumb danced over yours.

Meeting his eyes, he continued slowly, making sure you absorbed every single word, “I am right here. I’m alive. And yes, I might be a little banged up right now, but that will heal, I’ll get better in no time. I know that the reality of my job is scary but trust me when I say that I’ll do everything in my power to get back in one piece to you. I love you, Y/n. I would do anything for you.”

Sniffling, you whispered, “I love you too.”

The sun had now set, and Spencer had just woken up from his third nap. Keeping his eyes closed, he took long deep breaths.

“How are you?” you asked, timidly.

“Fine,” he replied, a little too fast to be convincing.

“Do you need any painkillers? I don’t think I’ve seen you take any today,” you added, “are they still in your bag?” already on your way out to search for them.

“No thanks, I-, um, no.”

“Spencer, I can see how much pain you’re in right now, you clearly need to take something.”

“No, I don’t need any, I’m fine, can you just drop it?”

“Oh, I-, I’m sorry. I just can go if you want me to?”

“No, Y/n, that’s not what I meant. I just really don’t wanna take any narcotics.”

“Spencer, you’re healing from a gunshot wound, do you really think it’s smart not to take anything for the pain?”

Snapping his eyes open, he stared you down, “Y/n, I’m not gonna take anything. Now stop.”

Chewing on your bottom lip in order to fight the tears that you could feel coming on, you stammered, “I’m sorry if I-, I’m sorry.”

Sighing deeply, he reached a hand out for you to come near, “don’t be sorry, I-… Y/n, 7 years ago I was kidnapped by this man, Tobias Hankel. He had multiple personalities and he drugged and tortured me. I, um… Tobias, he saved my life… gave me CPR…” keeping his head down, struggling with the words, “a-after that, I had a problem, with Dilaudid, still do, that never really went away… but I’ve been clean for many years now.”

Keeping quiet, you didn’t know how to respond. “Spencer, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I blabbered on about painkillers, god I’m an idiot. I’m so sorry that happened to you. I wish I could take that away, make it disappear.” Scrambling, trying to find something, anything that could make this just a little bit better, “what can I do? What do need?”

Closing his eyes again, he breathed out, “I don’t know.”

Standing up, you attempted, “okay, what’s your favourite food?”

Chuckling lightly, he replied, “jello, why?”

“I’m gonna go get you some.”

“You are?” he opened his eyes again.

“Yes.”

Knowing you too well, he hesitated, “you really don’t have to-,”

“Spencer, please just let me, I feel absolutely terrible. Can I just do this one thing for you?” you pleated.

Waiting a moment, he agreed slowly, “alright. If you want to, but you really don’t have to.”

Already halfway out the door, “I know, I want to.”

You never really left your apartment. Well, you went to go talk to Anna, but you didn’t really do much else outside your home. It’s not that you couldn’t, it’s just that there were much more important things for you to use your energy on. There were so many things out there that added up and made the whole experience just be too overwhelming, and the aftermath ruined your ability to get anything else done, so most of the time, you stayed inside. That worked. Stevie helped you buy groceries, and honestly, you’d perfected the art of whipping up something edible out of next to nothing.

So going down to the store, at night, was… a lot.

But it actually went surprisingly alright. Or well, alright considering. You were so hyper-focused on the task at hand that it wasn’t that bad. Needless to say, you did stand in the hallway for a good 14 minutes before entering the apartment once more, taking the time to just breathe and let your body react to the chaos of the world. You didn’t want Spencer to see, not tonight, he already had enough on his plate.

Once you felt ready, you flapped and shook your hands a bit to rid yourself of the rest and walked through the door. Heading straight into the kitchen, you procured a spoon and ventured forth into the bedroom.

“I didn’t know what flavour your favourite was,” holing up the crackling plastic bag, “so I just got a bit of everything.”

With a look of utter awe, he muttered, “you got me jello? God, you’re an angel.”

Setting the full bag down at the end of the bed, you pulled a few of the small plastic cups out, “so what do you want? I’ve got strawberry, lemon, green apple, cherry, um, I think there’s a single raspberry one somewhere in here…”

“They all sound great,” he smiled.

“Cherry it is then,” handing him the little container and the spoon you’d procured, “here you are, good sir.”

Grabbing a hold of your hand as he took the items from you, he beamed, “I love you. Thank you for taking care of me. “

next chapter

© 2022 thyme-in-a-bubble 

#sunflower #lea’s writing #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid series #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid headcanon #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid hurt/comfort #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff

[writingmaidenwarrior]

Sin Eaters Part 5

We just ignore the fact I posted part 4 twice because I forgot to reblog it to the sideblog and only looked there. Nothing to see here. These aren't the driods you were looking for. @cljordan-imperium

Warning for some sex talk, weird genetic facts, and the usual "The government is full of shit" that comes with this story

There was something in the air the second Wynthan left his mother’s house. Slightly skeptical Talindra looked at Kimesnin who was busy with making coffee.

“What did I miss?”

“You mean about me sending him away?”

“No, it is clear you want to talk to me alone for some reason. I was talking more about those plans for later.”

A mischievous glimmer danced in Kimesnin’s eyes, making clear where Wynthan got this trait from, and also told Talindra her skepticism wasn’t uncalled for, especially when Kimesnin pulled the chair over and sat down with the backrest in front of her and let her arms hang over it in such a typical soldier behavior it was easy to forget where Talindra was for a second.

“Just some typical horned one gathering with good food and drinks. And you are smart. Not everyone would get why I suggested it to Nat.”

Talindra snickered and took a chair to copy Kimesnin’s posture only a few inches apart from her.

“I needed to catch those things early to survive. What is it?”

“Are your horns still growing?”

“Yeah. I need to file them down once a month to prevent them from showing with my hair in a tight bun out in the field.”

Mindfully, Kimesnin nodded, only to sigh a moment later.

“I need to ask you a few personal questions to determine how much of a horned one you are so I can help you better to get adjusted to what happens once you let the horns grow.”

“What makes you think I want that?”, Talindra questioned surprised.

Kimesnin started to smile with the mischievous gleam in her eyes growing.

“I know my son and I can tell you are equally bad as him. You have nothing to be afraid of now and it’s safe to let them grow. You also wanted your hair as short as possible, don’t you?”

Feeling caught, Talindra wrinkled her nose. For some reason she liked how Kimesnin stated she and Wynthan were quite similar in some things. This only confirmed her own feeling from the last twenty-four hours even if she could sense he was still holding back.

“The short hair was because my hair takes forever to dry. I didn’t consider it might show the horns faster. But ask what you need to know.”

“Come over. We can get your hair cut while we talk. How short do you want it?”

“As short as possible? I don’t want to put it together anymore.”

Both giggled slightly as they got up. Talindra sat down properly while Kimesnin rummaged in a drawer.

“You know, it makes sense you got the horns around your 16th birthday. Horned ones are a bit delayed in growth and we start puberty around that age.”

“That’s why there is this weird four-year age gap between humans and horned ones? It is just in numbers?”

Surprised, Talindra looked over her shoulder. Kimesnin nodded with a smirk but motioned her to turned around again.

“Exactly. Mentally you are on the same page now, even if Nat is 31. Compared to how old we get he is still a teenager.”

“How old we get?”, Talindra repeated, looking over her shoulder again.

Kimesnin came over with a comb, a few bigger hair clips, and a whole assortment of scissors. Wynthan didn’t lie when he said his mother did this for a living.

“Our elders are the grandchildren of the first Sin Eaters.”

Gently Kimesnin forced Talindra’s back forward with a snicker.

“Wow…”

Confused she could only sit there for a few seconds while her hair got wet and parted into big sections.

“I know. Humans used to live up to a little over hundred years if they were lucky and got lucky with the genes but in average it was something around eighty. The elders still know how all this started even if the triumvirates punish everyone who tells the stories of old that don’t follow the official book. If you catch my drift.”

“I do. How much off are the books?”

“If you like to know more about our history, I might be able to set you up with one of the elders who isn’t afraid of the leaders. She is some stubborn woman who loves to emphasize she didn’t fight those monsters outside to kneel before those inside the walls.”

“I already love her”, Talindra snickered, “But you wanted to ask some stuff.”

“I do. I start with the most uncomfortable one. How long is your cycle?”

A confused huff escaped Talindra’s throat. Now she got asked about it a few things started to make sense. Even if the doctors always assured her, it was all fine and nothing to worry about, she couldn’t help but wonder how much they knew about what she was all the time.

“Talindra?”

“Sorry, a few pieces just fell into the right places. It’s a bit variable but usually around eight weeks long, and I always go crazy for sweets, meat and anything fried the week before. It was always a running gag in my company to throw the candy bars at me when the first one noticed I rummaged around to find my reserves.”

“That makes sense.”

The amusement in Kimesnin’s voice was audible and confusing.

“It does?”

“You inhaled Lyndhyrr’s pastry, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, and I am tempted to get more on our way back to our apartment.”

Hands rested on the backrest next to Talindra’s shoulders as Kimesnin steadied herself during her laughter.

“You really are a horned one. Our higher metabolism during the first hundred years makes us sweet teeth. You crave sweets because you need the energy. Same with meat and fried food, besides the fact we never loose the love for all three of those things. The cycle of a horned one is three months long. Humans usually four to five weeks by now. I wouldn’t be surprised if your cycle reaches three months once your horns grow properly.”

“What do the horns have to do with it?”

“A lot.”

Kimesnin came around with the equipment in her hands and leaned against the kitchen table with a serious look.

“In the early days before the leaders forced the interbreeding, they cut down our horns because it renders a full-fledged horned one unable to have children. The horns somehow control our hormones. You probably noticed yourself every time the horns grew a certain amount your sexual desire increased.”

With a sheepish glance aside, Talindra rubbed her neck. Only a part of her conscious noticed how her nap was already cut short.

“Yeah, and I can’t say it’s low on a normal day.”

With an inquiring head tilt Kimesnin waited for Talindra to continue, who had to accept that the other woman was stubborn like a mountain.

“I just … have a pretty active sex life. I don’t want to say I had been sleeping around or something. It’s just…”

At a loss for words how to explain what happens to her after another successful round against one of those monsters Talindra puffed out hot air frustrated.

“I am not judging you. Let me guess: Something inside you takes over after coming back alive?”

The serious look in Kimesnin’s face told Talindra this wasn’t just her. Slowly she nodded and kept the other fixated with her eyes.

“That’s because of your horn situation. You are stuck in puberty in some way. With your horns never reaching the proper size you never got the proper dose of hormones that told your body you are an adult now and being put in those life or death situations throws off our ingrained instinct to ensure the survival of our kind.”

A frown grew on Talindra’s face while listening. Her head needed a moment to get what she just learned.

“Wait. I got horny after those missions because the horned one part of me wanted to get pregnant because I survived a dangerous situation?”

“Yes, but because you filed down the horns you made sure you couldn’t get pregnant.”

This was the moment Talindra’s face became a grimace of utter confusion.

“The one thing that was actually the best protection I had also kept me in a state of puberty and made me super horny… Ok, sounds alright. Just one question.”

“Which one?”

“How does none of the horned one teenager end up blowing everything up with all that pend up sexual frustration?”

Again, Kimesnin started to laugh from the bottom of her heart.

“You forget, they don’t usually end up in life-or-death situations like you. They are just like human teenagers as well. Well, more or less.”

“The training.”

“He told you”, Kimesnin stated with a sadness in her voice.

“Bits and pieces, but it is enough to figure the rest out. I know what the higher ups want from me, how horned ones get taught to get it, and that the majority can resist the conditioning.”

The grim nod was accompanied by a sigh. It was the kind of sigh Talindra heard many times from her aunt when she caused some trouble or money was tight.

“Did he tell you how bad it was for him?”

“There was a remark about punishments for resisting.”

Another grim nod as Kimesnin went back to cut Talindra’s hair.

“We all went into punishment at one point, especially during the first year.  It becomes less usually once we learn how to give them what they want without losing ourselves but Wynthan…”

“He never really learned, didn’t he?”

“Even his siblings weren’t as stubborn as him. He never talked to me about it, but I saw the scars. I see the haunted look when he thinks no one is looking. I know this kind of look. Too many of us have it.”

Knowing too well what scars Kimesnin talked about Talindra took a deep breath.

“It is not your fault. It is their fault.”

“Now you need to make him understand this.”

In silence the rest of her hair got cut and both followed their own train of thoughts. Until it was mentioned Talindra didn’t get the feeling Wynthan blamed himself for the scars but on the other side, they just met.

When Kimesnin’s hand brushed over her free shoulder she knew she was ready.

“Here we are, sweets.”

The voice of the older woman sounded a bit more cheerful now as she brushed with her hands through Talindra’s short hair only to stop at the little stumps again.

“When did you file them down the last time?”

“Two weeks ago, when I got told, I was picked to become a Sin Eater. Why?”

“Mhmm… How far down was it?”

“To the skull?”

The hissed way Kimesnin breathed in was unexpected.

“How can you do this? This hurst like a fucker.”

“You get used to it, for real. Is something wrong with them?”

Kimesnin let go of Talindra’s head and took a deep breath. When Talindra turned around the other one bit her lower lip with a thoughtful glance.

“Do they always grow that fast?”

“More or less. Is this unusual?”

“Not really, considering your body is basically stuck in puberty. But this means you have maybe three weeks till they become noticeable depending on how you move, six for them to be unmistaken recognizable as horns and I would say in around three months, maybe four… you will lose the accidental pregnancy protection.”

“Even when they aren’t fully developed?”

The snicker was all she needed as answer.

“Yes, even then. You also should be careful. They will be sensitive in the beginning.”

There was the feeling something was left out, and Talindra squinted at her.

“And?”

“That’s for you to figure out.”

“Why do I have the feeling it has to do with sex?”

“Maybe?”, Kimesnin snickered again.

For a moment Talindra was tempted to make her talk but she also had the feeling, Kimesnin had more fun making her guess and sending her on a wild goose hunt.

“In this case… Change of topic. I thought about my parents, and my mother is clearly a horned one. So, I started to wonder…”

With the index finger raised, and a knowing smile, Kimesnin made her stop.

“Let me get something to write first. I guess, I know where this is going.”

#writblr #wynne writes #sin eaters #part 5 #sin eaters wip #fantasy #adult audience

[ssj2hindudude]

Anime the Potatoes would watch. Let's go:

🌩Aru:

Now before you get on my case about how basic this is, I'd just like to point out that Chokshi herself said she based the series on Sailor Moon and if a show so similar to her life story doesn't catch her attention, I don't know what will. Plus Aru would definitely find the chaotic mess that is Usagi relatable...

☠Mini:

Death everywhere, creepy undertone, and a complex theme to match? Right up Mini's alley. I can totally see Mini watching this, getting invested in the philosophy, and making the other Potatoes hide every pen in sight every time she says "I will be the god of the new world"...

🥗Brynne:

Ok, this isn't a hill to die on, it's a black hole from which no ignorants can escape. Anyone is an idiot if they don't think Brynne would devour a show centered around food preparation and restaurant management faster than any of her meals. She would then look for people to have cooking matches with and I give it about 1 hour before she comes up with a recipe that would land her in the First Seat. Plus, I can see her bi self being into the fanservice...

👗Nikita:

Nikita would probably ignore the whole romantic subplot and skip straight to critiquing every outfit. On days she's in an idea slump, I can see her watching this and proceed to create upgraded magical versions. Maybe even doll versions for her and Sheela...

💤Sheela:

Sheela seems like she would be into something as dreamy as this. True, she would start an episode and half an hour later Nikita would walk in and find her a crying mess on the floor. But it would just be too beautiful and wholesome for her to not get invested...

📗Kara:

An anime going over the best teaching methods AND exposing various toxic relationships? Sign Kara up! She would fall apart with laughter, especially with Koro Sensei on screen. She might get some trauma flashbacks when she sees Nagisa's relationship with his mother though...Also, no one tell her how it ends or she won't be able to watch it through...

💖Aiden:

I know it's old, but hey Aiden loves the classics! This is the kind of show Aiden watches when no one is looking. It's funny, heartwarming, and pretty well put together. Unfortunately, Rudy catches him at one point and spills it to the others. They then proceed to tease him relentlessly by comparing Kei and Hikari to him and Aru...Aru still doesn't know why they keep calling her Ms. Second Place...

🎤Rudy:

If Rudy's gonna watch an anime, it's gotta be the one about building a band. At first he just watches it to study human high schools, but the plot just sucked him right in. He's been trying to get Aiden to watch to convince him to bring back Rudy Rocks, but Aiden is always busy (no he isn't)...

Ok, that's my list. If you think of any better matches, feel free to reblog with them!

#aru shah headcanon #anime #the pandava quintet #the potatoes #aru shah headcanons #aru shah #sailor moon #death note #food wars #my dress-up darling #clannad #assassination classroom #special a #k-on

[lightblueminecraftorchid]

I posted 22,410 times in 2022

That's 10,302 more posts than 2021!

339 posts created (2%)

22,071 posts reblogged (98%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@mariposasmonarch

@figurative-critter

@artimies6

@rosslynpaladin

@itsallwearecalledtodo

I tagged 1,258 of my posts in 2022

#farewell technoblade - 59 posts

#unreality - 51 posts

#save for later - 50 posts

#tw death - 48 posts

#technoblade - 40 posts

#poetry - 24 posts

#battycore - 9 posts

#minecraft - 7 posts

#hey - 7 posts

#autism - 7 posts

Longest Tag: 136 characters

#”hey here’s this polar substance that has distinct positive and negative regions because the electron pairs in oxygen bend the molecule”

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

how much of kids being badly behaved is them being ND?

It’s more than you think.

There’s a little boy named Liam (not his real name) at my daycare. Liam has ADHD and autism; so do I. Here’s behaviors he’s gotten in trouble for before:

- Not washing his hands in the bathroom with the other boys for lunch/snack

- Laying on the floor and not responding/listening when told to do something

- Laying on the floor in areas that block traffic, like hallways

- Yelling at other students to shut up

- Not looking teachers in the eyes when he’s in trouble

- Not sitting still during waiting periods/on the bus/ during timeout

- Not transitioning between tasks or events; I. E. Continuing to play at the craft table when we’re lining up to go to the gym

I don’t have these issues with Liam, simply because I understand where his behavior comes from, and I can head it off before it happens.

- The hand dryers in the main bathroom are really loud; Liam is allowed to use the small staff bathroom to wash his hands instead.

- I bring noise-cancelling headphones and stim toys to work; when Liam’s showing signs of a shutdown or being overwhelmed by noise, I just place both near him to use if he needs.

- Liam gets extra reminders about switching tasks, and I give him specific directions rather than vague ones. Instead of “get ready to go to the gym”, it’s “please pick up all the craft supplies you used and put them away. Grab your water bottle afterwards, then go line up at that door.”

- Liam is allowed to ask to use my stim toys at any time, and i being at least one to field trips/outside/the gym, so he can use them when he needs.

That’s it. That’s all it takes. If I need to, I’ll take his hand and help him up when he’s flopped on the floor, and find him somewhere to lay down that’s not in the middle of foot traffic. Haven’t had any issues with him not listening. He went from “bad kid” to “easy kid” like *that*.

And it makes me wonder. How many of the “bad kids” just have a need that isn’t being met? How many kids could cope so much better in their environment if the adults in their life worked with them, instead of being antagonistic and assuming they’re acting maliciously? How many kids are struggling simply because the people in their life don’t know what’s wrong, or how to help?

And then my heart hurts a little bit.

184 notes - Posted July 18, 2022

#4

Quick fun fact I learned in ASL class:

Babies can begin signing as early as a few months old. You don’t have to wait until they’re 9-12 months to start communicating verbally; the parts of the brain that process and use language develop before a baby is able to speak intelligibly with their mouth. Teaching your kid sign language early means that they can communicate effectively months ahead of schedule, when compared to peers that only speak a spoken language.

Additional fun fact: this jumpstart in language is thought to be a possible way to avoid the “Terrible Twos”; that phase of a toddler’s life is thought to be largely due to a toddler being unable to effectively communicate their needs. If a two year old has already been speaking for a year and a half, they’re far more able to communicate to you what’s wrong. Heck, they might also start reading earlier; languages with a fingerspelling component, like ASL, mean that any speaker needs to be able to spell unfamiliar words and ask about them. This can jumpstart a toddler’s ability to recognize letters as components of a word, and teach them to spell, read, and eventually write these letters to communicate.

Which, of course, lends absolutely zero credence to the theory that ASL will inherently stunt someone’s spoken language skills. If anything, sign language fluency makes acquiring any language, spoken or not, easier rather than harder.

812 notes - Posted October 30, 2022

#3

“Why do you get meltdowns over X? Why do you need to stim?”

Think back to a time when you really had to use the bathroom. Maybe you were on an airplane; aisles are small, bathrooms are all the way in the back, and you’re in a window seat. Maybe you were at work; boss breathing down your neck with no time to take a break. Maybe you just forgot until it was really bad; you were reading the best book you’ve ever read, and in the hours it took you to finish those chapters, you didn’t tend to your bladder.

How did you feel, in that time between you noticing the need to pee and you getting to the bathroom?

Sucks, right? You’re constantly thinking about the bathroom. Sure, you can kinda hold it, but you really can’t hold it that long, because your kidneys don’t exactly have off buttons. The pressure is building. You might even be in pain. The physical stress is constant, intrusive, and unable to be dispelled until you take care of that need.

Telling someone to stop stimming (and then being surprised when they have a meltdown) is like telling someone to “just hold it, it’s not that hard” when they’re dying to use the bathroom. If you desperately had to go and someone informed you that you couldn’t, because using the bathroom would be impolite or look strange, you would not last very long. Either you’d break and yell/cry/scream/run until that need gets met, or your body would meet it for you, and you’d have to face the consequences of that.

Stimming is a need. Autistic people stim to self regulate, to express emotion, and to expend excess energy. It is a coping skill, it is healthy, and it is not something you can just stop needing. “Stop stimming.” “Just hold it.”

And when your needs aren’t met, sometimes your body will meet them for you, and you need to face the consequences of that. Meltdowns are not just tantrums or being misbehaved. Meltdowns are an autistic person’s last resort when they cannot regulate the stress that’s been stacking up. That stress isn’t just from academics or work; for someone with sensory issues, unpleasant sensory input is a stressor. For someone who finds social activities draining, social interaction is a stressor. For someone who relies on routine, an interruption is a stressor. This is not always a controllable thing; stressors happen when your needs are not met. Stress stacks up, the necessary coping mechanisms are stymied, and the body cracks under the strain because there is nothing else to do.

So next time you see someone frown and hum when they wash dishes, or flap their hands when they’re excited, or express “Sorry, I can’t eat that food” in a singsong tone, check yourself before you start making comments. Don’t be the person that says “Just hold it. It’s not that hard.” It is that hard.

This also goes for ADHD ppl btw. Don’t come at me w the whole “oh but if u fidget that means ur not paying attention” that’s not how ADHD works. Let the person stim. It’s a need (a distinct need, but still a need).

891 notes - Posted July 6, 2022

#2

An incomplete guide to how to talk to young children (3-5 years old):

- Do not assume they understand your instructions the first time. They will ask you the same question three times. Answer it the same way, patiently. They will get it eventually.

- Children will ask strings of “why” questions. They’re not trying to be annoying; they don’t have a lot of the context older people have. Answer until you can’t, then admit you don’t know and ask them a question back. They’ll get distracted for the moment, and trust that you take their questions seriously.

- If you need a kid to do something, give a reason, but don’t give up at “I don’t want to”. If they don’t listen, it’s okay to say “I explained why, and I still need you to do it.” Be calm, and firm. Usually, kids will listen the second or third time.

- If a kid doesn’t listen to an instruction repeatedly, there’s probably something in the way. Ask them why they’re not *without accusing them*, and they’ll tell you what’s going on most of the time. Common reasons: I’m scared, I don’t know how, I miss my parent/sibling, I’m tired, I’m angry/frustrated/sad, I need help. Address the roadblock and help find a compromise that works for the both of you.

- Threats are only as good as you can enforce them. If you threaten them with a countdown, you need a consequence to back it up that is appropriate to the request. For example: “I need you to stay in your chair. I’m going to count to five. If I get to five, and you’re not sitting in your seat with your feet on the floor, I am writing down that you were not listening during snack time on your behavior report.” Keep in mind that these threats only work if the consequence is at the right level; too harsh, and they’ll get overwhelmed and shut down, but too light, and they won’t see it as a consequence. A kid who doesn’t care what their behavior report says won’t worry about a bad report as a consequence.

- Never scream at a child. Never hit them. Never continuously escalate consequences until they do what you say. These behaviors cause a child to panic, and their fear response will prevent them from doing what you want them to, as well as make them more distrusting of you in the future. It’s not just cruel, it is actively counterintuitive to correcting their behavior.

- Make a point to notice and compliment/reward good behavior, especially with kids you are biased to view as “rude” or “badly behaved”. Kids take the views of adults seriously, and if they feel as though they can’t redeem themselves in your eyes, they won’t waste energy trying. Complimenting good behavior when you see it will encourage them to repeat good behaviors to earn your praise. In addition, if there’s other children nearby, they will also mimic the complimented behavior to earn the same praise. Give it.

- Kids want to feel heard. If they want to show or tell you “something cool”, and you have a few moments, watch/listen and compliment them *regardless of if you get it or not*. If you don’t have time, say “That sounds really cool! Can you tell me after we do [insert thing]?” This tells them that you care while still making sure they do what they need to.

- Kids can be downright frustrating sometimes, especially when they need to do something and they just *won’t*. Recognize when you’re getting angry, and learn to stop talking before you direct that anger at them. Take some deep breaths, remind yourself that this too shall pass, and try a different approach.

- Always understand why you’re asking a child to do something. Not only does this help you tell them why they need to, it helps you find replacement behaviors if they can’t/won’t do it. For example: “I need you to lay down and try to sleep, because your friends are sleeping and what you’re doing right now is waking them up. If you can’t sleep after trying for a while, we can work together to find you a quiet activity that you can do at your cot.”

- Don’t expect from a child what you wouldn’t expect from yourself. Could you stand laying still and staring at the ceiling for an hour when you’re not tired? No? Don’t ask a kid to do it. Could you stand staying out in the cold for an hour without a jacket? No? Don’t ask a kid to do it. Could you stand someone yelling at you without feeling angry? No? Don’t ask a kid to do it. Even if you think you could do it, consider if you could do it with the same limitations this child has. Could you do it without the emotional regulation and impulse control you’ve developed as an adult? Could you do it without the inference skills you’ve learned after years of social interactions? Could you do it when you felt angry, tired, overwhelmed, hungry, thirsty, desperately needing to pee with no bathroom nearby? If not, don’t ask a child to do it.

- Don’t react to potty words, insults, or offensive language. Don’t laugh, and don’t act upset. Use the same tone you would if someone said something innocuous, and correct them in that tone. “We don’t say that; that’s a hurtful thing to say to someone.” Or “That’s not funny. Let’s talk about something else.”

- Kids don’t (and should not) have a sense of sexual innuendo or puberty. A four year old doesn’t understand that reaching up to hug you and touching your breasts in the process is gross. A five year old doesn’t understand that “why aren’t you a mommy?” or “why does your face have red dots on it” are weird questions to ask random people. Enforce boundaries without delving into details. “Don’t touch me there; that makes me uncomfortable” and “That’s just how it works sometimes” can be used to great effect. Importantly, don’t act angry or use a tone that indicates they did something wrong; this will seem to them like you’re arbitrarily angry.

- Kids at this age don’t have a strong sense of cognitive empathy or predicting the future. The idea that actions have consequences beyond the immediate result is a very, very new concept to them. Be prepared to explain the obvious of “why can’t I bite her when she makes me mad?”, “why can’t I steal his toy when he stole mine?”, and “why do I have to do what you tell me when I don’t want to?”

- Give explicit instructions. “Stop that” isn’t likely to be understood by a four year old. “Stop throwing the toys; please put them in the bucket gently” is far easier for a kid to follow.

14,263 notes - Posted June 8, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Lemme tell u guys a story

In my freshman year, my great grandma passed away. She never threw out or sold anything worth keeping if she could help it, having grown up in the Depression, so when she passed, my grandma suddenly inherited a lifetime’s worth of treasured items. She distributed most of them to her kids and grandkids, saved some sentimental items, and donated most of the clothing and trinkets to charity. I got back the stuffed leopard I’d given great-grandma in the hospital; the fur was still as soft as it’d been when I bought it. One of the biggest things she had to sort through was jewelry. For a year after my great-grandma died, my grandma was setting out organized rows of costume jewelry on basement tables and chivvying her granddaughters to take what they wanted.

And then, after all the choosing, she snuck me into her room while my cousins picked through wristwatches. On her bed were two small jewelry boxes: an old wooden one, and a cushioned one in white pleather.

“I brought you in here because if I gave these to your cousins, they’d sell it. I don’t want these sold. Do you understand?”

I understood.

This is the story of the biggest lie my grandma ever told her mom.

Great-grandma’s birthstone was garnet, and she loved the look of the stones, but could never justify paying for some. Her husband worked constantly, and so did she, and new clothes for the kids was more important than jewelry at the time. When my grandma was 16, she saved her first paychecks to buy her mom a garnet ring for Mother’s Day; that’s what was in the wooden box. The original receipt, handwritten, was crammed into the lid. Great-grandpa saw that ring and teared up; he’d always wanted to get his wife something nice like that, but hadn’t ever had enough money for it. Determined, he vowed to change that. He set aside money for years, slowly, hiding it away in a box in the attic, vowing to buy his wife something she could always wear with her ring.

Time passed, and inflation happened, and he slowly squirreled money away in the hopes that jewelry might get cheaper again sometime. Time passed again, and age had little mercy on him. He got older, typed up a note, and placed in in the box, describing what the money was for; he knew his time was near. Under no circumstances was the money to be spent on anything other than giving his wife a nice gift. The letter read, “One day, my dear Ruth, you’ll have garnet earrings to match that ring.” It’s what great-grandma had always mourned missing; she had such a nice ring, and no good earrings to go with it.

Well, men don’t live forever, and when great-grandpa passed away, my grandma cleaned out her mom’s attic as she prepared to move somewhere smaller. Going through boxes of polaroids and paper clips, she stumbled on the box of earrings money, note and all. She stashed it with her coat, and after that day of cleaning, went to the jeweler before her mom could try and spend the money on something too sensible. She came back with the white pleather box; sure enough, still nestled inside that box were two clip-on garnet earrings.

”Mom never got her ears pierced, you know. That’s why it took so long to find a good pair.”

Once she’d gotten the earrings, grandma presented them to her mom, along with the note. The paper was obviously old and warped by moisture, but it was legible. My great grandma cried happy tears and treasured those earrings more than any other jewelry; the last gift her husband could give her. Decades after the fact, I’d seen her wear them to Christmas parties and worry over them, checking that they stayed on her earlobes.

There was never any note from great-grandpa. Never any box. Never any earring money. My great-grandpa had spent his saved money keeping himself and his wife confortable throughout retirement. To set aside hundreds of dollars, even a bit at a time, for garnet earrings, was never a thought that crossed his mind. My grandma had seen her mom, exhausted, wracked with grief, and lied through her teeth about where she’d gotten the money for those earrings. She faked the note and everything, making sure her mom wouldn’t wonder where the money came from, and never winced at the pinch in her own pockets. And she never told a soul, not even my mom, until great-grandma was safely and thoroughly buried herself.

52,019 notes - Posted February 20, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

[justaredheadf1fan]

What seems to be the least entertaining GP so far (I hope I'm wrong)

Hello there people!

I've read some of the tags some of you have used when reblogging my last posts and I can't tell you how happy it makes me, thank you. I'm no expert on how to write or anything, but at least I'm glad you guys like my silly little reviews of the race weekends 🥰

It's 12 minutes away from FP1 ending and honestly there hasn't been anything worth mentioning. I'm aware that it's just practice and it's really not supposed to be super fun to watch or anything, but for the love of Thor, GIMME SOMETHING.

Nyck de Vries has stepped into Lewis' car today for FP1, and has done a very nice job at that. I haven't watched any Formula E so I had no idea how good or bad he was, but it's been nice for him to try the viper 🐍

I'm listening to the Spanish commentators talking about Mick and the guy I hate the most because he's an absolute moron and completely biased douche says that Mick is not his father. When was he supposed to be, you fucking idiot? Lobato, Mick might have the Schumacher last name but that doesn't force him to emulate his father altogether just for the sake of his name. Yes, we all want him to succeed as much as Michael did because he deserves nothing less, but what he also deserves is the freedom of doing his own thing despite of his last name. He's entitled to be a 23-year old kid still figuring it out and doing his best to get where he needs to be every race. So shut the fuck up at once. Jesus, I hate this guy.

I've ranted and said what I needed to say, but I know it won't be the last time this will come up. And I also know it's inevitable for Mick to be compared to his dad, but for fucks sake give the kid some peace, he's doing a great job and he's proven he deserves to be in F1 despite anyone's opinion. Defending Mick isn't enough, I NEED A GUN.

That said, I'll be writing the rest of the post when FP2 comes later this afternoon,

---------------

Here comes FP2 and the first 20 minutes have been uneventful, to say the least. Honestly, I didn't expect this to be so.... plain?

It's been now another 40 minutes of nothing. I can't believe the waste of time 😂 or maybe it's just me being exhausted, but this has been the most boring FP sessions I've seen this year so far, the others had at least a minor interesting occurrence worthy of comments but nope, not this one. France being France I guess... (I don't really like the French, sorry...).

I hope tomorrow's a little different at least, being FP3 and Quali on the same day, we need something exciting after 2 weeks waiting for a new race weekend!

Anyway, off to have lunch at almost 7pm like the fucking mess that I am on my free days before going back to hell tomorrow.

Let's hope tomorrow's better than this. The only highlight so far is Lewis' hair. It looks so good.

Other than that, boring as fuck if you ask me 😂 I don't even have decent pictures to post here either...

Peace out!

#f1 #formula 1 #mercedes amg f1 #scuderia ferrari #aston martin racing #haas f1 team #mclaren f1 racing #alfa romeo racing #alpine f1 team #scuderia alpha tauri #williams racing #sir lewis hamilton #George Russell #Charles Leclerc #Carlos saint jr #sebastian vettel #lance stroll #mick schumacher #kevin Magnussen #daniel ricciardo #lando norris #zhou guanyu #valtteri bottas #esteban ocon #fernando Alonso #pierre gasly #yuki tsunoda #alex albon #nicholas latifi #french gp 2022

[whateveryousay04]

I just found this on Pinterest and wanted to Reblog directly but I didn’t find the user anymore. If the account and original post are still there, please send it to me so I will respectfully reblog and delete this post.

So true. As someone who is feminine with a style leaning on glamour (sometimes vintage, sometimes modern), sophisticated and elegance; I was insecure of making my peers insecure or curious about my social class and my choice of clothing.

I won’t spend almost 2 hours to write a long rant like I sometimes do, all I will say is that aside from the formerly integrated expectations to dress and act a certain way, if nowadays the newly integrated expectations are more casual and liberal, if you sustain will your entire heart that you are fine and feel much confident and comfortable with your selected personal style and don’t feel intimidated by mine in a non judge mental social environment with the majority of people like you; then why are you slightly insecure of me? I dress like that because it makes me feel myself at the fullest even though I am self aware of being always the ugliest, stupidest, dumbest, less educated/less smart, stinkiest, most asocial, most unwanted etc person in the room (I am serious, please don’t comfort me in the comments, you don’t know me and I am actually always among the worst people in the room, I have a couple of good traits I guess but overall I am a loser and others visibly and audibly believe the same-No questioning), actually, since I have stopped shopping and curating my wardrobe 5 years ago (Social anxiety and fear of wasting money) and 80% of the good pieces didn’t fit or broke and were thrown away, I feel even less confident in my own skin and clothing ever. It made me realize that I actually have courage at least in past when I used to believe I was at my lowest point.

I am constantly intimidated by everything and everyone because everyone is somehow either better than me or a teenage peer who might make fun of me or both. But I only felt intimidated by other’s style because I wanted to have it and it started when I had less good clothing pieces during the last few years.

I think that if you feel that intimidated, maybe you should attempt explore your fashion sense and who knows, maybe dare to go a little out of your comfort zone and you might discover that you actually secretly like a certain thing but we’re too insecure for it.

Personally I never wear skirts, I sometimes wear dresses when back in Africa and at ceremonies but other than that the last time I went out in a skirt/dress I was 9 years old on my first day of school. At the time I felt well, it’s later that around 14~ when I started to think that I shouldn’t wear them but I actually love skirts on other women but I am not confident at all to wear them. (10-14 years old me never wore skirts just because I guess it was never popular at school in my country, not ever high school. I rarely saw skirts over the years at middle and high school)

So if one day I will regain my confidence and curate my wardrobe, I do not feel superior to you! I am actually extremely insecure and I secretly believe that you are superior to me! It’s even worse when you are introverted and act like a “sweet good girl” because I was extremely surprised when some middle school classmates and a teacher lightheartedly joked that I am someone who thinks is better mannered and educated and well dressed. (I do believe that in many cases I am but I don’t fixate nor barely think about it. It’s not a ME vs YOU, I don’t compare. To me if you are impolite than you should behave better. End of the story.) because at the time I was already constantly feeling inferior to them in many ways. And they surely felt superior to me too! I think that they were also aware that that statement was only given on how I carry myself and dress because they definitely thought I was maybe the ugliest, weirdest and stupidest in class.

So please, don’t make me downplay my fashion because it sticks out compared to the group overall. It’s one thing to dress for occasion (which I do) and another to pressure others to change their style direction. Because if anything I could also use the excuse of dressing for the occasion to call out many people.

By the way, my fashion sense is actually quite versatile. I just physically can’t not add at least a certain small element that relates to femininity or girlyness but I actually like many outfits of other styles that sometimes my peers wear and I end up slightly intimidated because they indeed pull it off very well. My fashion sense is not tridimensional but my personal style is.

Seriously though, DO NOT RESENT OTHER LADIES FOR BEING CONFIDENT ENOUGH TO DRESS THEMSELVES THE WAY YOU SECRETLY WISH!

Or, DO NOT LET OTHER LADIES RESENT ON YOU BECAUSE YOU HAVE A SOCIALLY ATTRACTIVE-ACCEPTED/APPROPRIATE STYLE!

#fashion

[woundthatswallows]

19-69 female christ perfume review

hihi it’s weather let’s talk about this perfume. going back into my perfume reviewer era for this. this will be a review of me actually describing what it is like and not much of the more flowerly, creative writing as a good bit of the reviews on this to hopefully give you a better picture of what this perfume is like! long post ahead.

in the bottle: it smells very much so like its top notes, eucalyptus and patchouli. there’s also a hint of pepper, which i presume comes from the third note being pimento. my favorite types of perfumes are peppery, musky, or incense-y, and this ticks all those marks in the bottle so far. when i’m writing this, i’ve not sprayed it yet. 

first spray: it opens up and becomes much more light, the patchouli and eucalyptus are still there, but the other notes like amber and wintergreen pop through, and the wood notes of cinnamon bark and cashmere wood are ushered in with the strong benzoin, a really nice carrier for the fresh, warm woods. the pepper smell isn’t as prominent, and falls further away. it is almost a sweet, woody, patchouli scent. reminds me of being of in a church during mass, incense is in the air and it mixes with the old wooden benches.

after 1 hour: the light, airy freshness and sweetness definitely fade away, and it settles back down close to the scent of when you first smell the bottle. it mixes really pleasantly with your skin- it’s strong, it will project to others around you, and i think if you use too much, it will be overpowering. i personally like when perfumes are like this, as it means less is more and you can get a lot of use out of a bottle. it’s dries down to a woody patchouli, the aftermath of a catholic mass. the pepper note is mostly gone.

end of day: it fades nicely! the smell stays consistent with the after an hour, and now, prob 12 hours later, a very very slight hint of it is still on the skin that i can smell, and if i get real close, i can smell it stronger, but the people around you won’t. the perfume might have given me a bit of a headache, but i have chronic migraine and tend to get one if i test a new scent- so i'm gonna use it again a few more times before concluding on the headache part, i’ll probably reblog this with an update in a week or so.

final thoughts: i really like this so far! i woke up in the morning still lightly smelling of it, as did the clothing that i wore last night- it is a fragrance that hangs around. it is a scent that i like, up my alley, and yet still 100% unique compared to the rest of my collection. the bottle itself is heavy and feels and looks very nice, i’m thoroughly pleased with it!

things to know before ordering: i ordered it from the 19-69 website, and it was a tad bit stressful as after you hit order the screen fades and they don’t send any confirmation emails, but i did get my order delivered within a week from purchasing. it’s a strong, bold smell, not one i would recommend to those with sensitivity to fragrances. the quality of the product is very high, and if it interests you i would certainly consider checking it out.

#feel free to ask if u have any questions abt it! #perfume #perfume review #19-69 #female christ

[twotonedechoes]

Tumblr RP Etiquette Crash Course

I’ve seen several people in the last bit mention being new to or unsure of the RPC etiquette here, so I thought I’d toss out a quick and dirty helplist from an old hat. Feel free to add or contradict if things are different in your neck of the woods or specific fandom! 

Have an about page! Whether on your blog itself, or linked to a carrd or doc, make sure it’s easily findable, and gives at least the basics of your muse. 

Don’t reblog threads you’re not a part of! This goes for non-RP blogs too. But just don’t, please. It makes it heck to track whose turn it is. Some people don’t want them liked either, but that varies by mun, tbh. 

Reblog ask memes/starter prompts from the source. This admittedly is something of a newer rule, and wasn’t the norm when I started, but it’s become the polite thing to do. It’s just an extra click to go to the source blog, and reblog there rather than from the dash/person who reblogged it. 

Icons are optional! Granted this can be a personal choice, as some muns will always prefer them, but in general don’t feel like you have to have or use them to write. Or that you have to have any fancy filters or frames for them As a courtesy tho, try and keep them on the smaller side if you do use them. I’d advise no bigger than 200x200. 100x100 used to be standard, but I’m unsure if that still is the norm. 

Tag your out of character stuff! Some people only want to see actual RP content on their dashes, and that’s valid. Do the nice thing and try to remember to tag your off-topic or non-RP related reblogs, so they can keep a nice, clean dash. 

Tag simple, tag clean. We all love our fancy tags for personal indexing, but when it comes to tagging potential triggers and the like, keep them simple to allow for better blacklist catching. You might love your poetic blood and gore tag for your muse’s aesthetic, and that’s awesome! Just make sure you toss in the basic ones for courtesy as well!

Interact to be interacted with! It sounds simple, but is so easily forgotten. The easiest way to get threads and interactions is to reach out for them. Send memes, say hello to your followers, like and reblog applicable content. Just make yourself approachable and friendly! 

Be okay with being turned down. Sort of the reverse of the above, some people and muses just aren’t going to jive with you and yours. Don’t get discouraged! Just move on, and try again. 

Be okay with turning people down. It’s okay to say no, or that you’re just not interested in a muse/plot/thread. 

And finally, remember to have fun! This is just a hobby, not a job or popularity contest. Try not to compare yourself to others, and definitely don’t get caught up in any drama. If it stops being fun, then it’s time to step away, and come back later. 

#Tumblr RPC #RPC Etiquette #roleplaying #OoC #Hopefully this is helpful and not just me babbling a lot #long post

[kellinrk800]

my thoughts on episode 11 of wonder egg priority

tw// neglect, possible abuse, murder, human experimentation

holy SHIT is there a lot to unpack.

first of all, everyone except ai and neiru have now experienced the truth of what happens when you complete the total amount of people to save. at the end of episode ten we saw momoe’s breakdown and panic’s death and at the beginning today’s episode we saw rika find out and mannen’s death. (i previously wrote that neiru and pinky had experienced it but after someone kindly let me know after a rewatch that it was in fact momoe, not neiru. sorry for the error)

however, ai is now the only one who knows about frill and what happened to her. speaking of, there are a RIDICULOUS amount of parallels between the two. i’ll be reblogging some posts that explain it a lot better than i ever could right after i post this.

what i really want to focus on is frill. despite her fairly questionable and downright evil actions, i can’t help but feel a shred of pity for her.

born out of quite literal boredom and under strict surveillance, she was almost destined to be unloved. she was not made to be a human, but simply something for acca and ura acca to love. in the way you might buy a doll for a small child. their mistake was adding such severe jealousy and stubbornness to something they had created to be perfection.

stuck at the age of 14 permanently, it’s no surprise her mental state was damaged. imagine the jealousy, the intense emotions, everything you go through at that age.

she is at least somewhat aware that she is artificial intelligence considering how open those who are around her seem to be about it. however, she does not seem to be keen on accepting it or believing it. after all, she is not programmed to. she is programmed to sense things in the way a human would. and that opens a whole world of other doors about how anyone could be an ai and not know it but i doubt wonder egg priority would get that meta this close to the end.

time to tie up all these loose ends. around midway through the episode we are introduced to a love interest (who i have forgotten the name of, apologies) who causes a split in acca and ura acca’s relationship (marriage), and she soon becomes pregnant with a child. a human child.

frill was programmed to be able to understand her parents in the way a daughter would. she begins to taunt ura acca about his husband cheating on him with the woman he loves and once she finally finds out that the baby is a girl, she decides to kill the mother.

the motivation behind frill’s mental deterioration is slowly becoming clearer and clearer. i strongly suspect that she felt she was being replaced with a human child and realised the inherent inferiority she was going to have once the child was born, and became overcome with jealousy. not only would she now have to take on the role to be a big sister (which she was not programmed to accept or do. she was programmed to be stubborn and jealous in the way a 14 year old girl would be) but she would lose the ability she had to be perceived as a human daughter by the parents who raised her.

imagine being created for the sole purpose of being the perfect daughter for somebody to love, and then being replaced. i am by no means excusing murder, but it’s hard not to see her motivation.

as punishment and as relief of acca’s grief, frill was then locked away with nothing but her ai machinery for anywhere between 12 and 15 years*.

enter himari, the child that survived despite frill’s attempt at murder of both mother and child. she is described as having “saved” ura acca and acca from their state after the mother’s murder and the abandonment of their artificial daughter. when we see her able to talk, she is shown asking ura acca to marry her once she is older to make up for the pain of the loss of her mother. she is stated as being in junior high at the time (*my timespan reasoning for the time frill was locked away). while this scene made me greatly uncomfortable, it might be to show frill’s impact and influence on himari. if they had come into contact, frill would arguably do anything in her power to gain back control of her parents.

perhaps himari asked this purposefully to anger frill, which is supported further by the fact himari was found dead (cause of death suicide) the night later.

suicide. what’s the entire theme OF the eggs? i don’t know about you but i can hear lightbulbs beginning to flicker.

ura acca and acca began research into girls suicides at that age, and found a steady surge around the same time as himari’s death.

acca and ura acca are trying to bring back himari, possibly their wife, and maybe, maybe just maybe frill as well. i think that is the real purpose of the wonder egg project.

we also finally have our answer as to why girls and boys suicides are different with wonder eggs! acca and ura acca are indeed sexists, just not about suicide.

i’ll let you do the rest of the theorising.

now for the loose ends that i don’t think can be tied up.

why are hyphen and dot named after punctuation? is their goal to bring frill back to life?

what was neiru’s family’s involvement in the wonder eggs? in fact, where is neiru?

is frill alive or dead? is there even a way to distinguish with someone in her state?

what happened to acca and ura acca to make them.. well, to make them like that? last i checked, turning into mannequins isn’t a symptom of grief. are they even alive?

MOMOE. WHERE THE FUCK IS MOMOE. GIVE ME MOMOE OR GIVE ME DEATH.

there are a shit ton of new, unspecified entities we’re learning about. what actually are hyphen and dot? are they AIs like frill? perhaps not fully formed? and thanatos and eros?

where do the girls go once they’ve been freed? is “freed” even the right term?

what did mr sawaki say to ai about koito? why did koito die? is mr sawaki going to have a bigger role than a consistently fucking annoying red herring after all?

rika’s father? why have that as a big factor in an episode conflict if it’s never going to be addressed again?

the sketchy lesbian representation compared to the consistent positive trans ftm and gay representation? why have the only canonically wlw character be a product of a harmful stereotype after treating everything else so respectfully?

and most importantly, how the FUCK is this going to get cleared up in one episode?

i don’t even think that’s possible. if it is, i’m really disappointed. after consistent excellent pacing, writing, storytelling, and everything else, cramming everything into the last couple of episodes is just cheap and annoying. if i wanted to drone on for an entire series before an explosion of poor plot points for shock factor, i’d just go watch the second season of the promised neverland (/hj).

the only somewhat reasonable explanation would be a second season, but it is a terrible media decision and i can’t imagine much, if any, good coming from it.

in conclusion, what the fuck. how the hell is this going to salvage itself in one episode?

also i wrote this entire thing while on my sleep meds. if there’s logical, grammatical, spelling or just general errors i apologise and i’ll fix them when i’m not half conscious.

#wonder egg priority #how the fuck are they going to salvage this #wonder egg priority spoilers #wep project #wep #i really don’t know how to feel about frill #wep frill #a moment of silence for mannen and panic

[sylvieserene]

Tanjiro Kamado will live a long, happy life and survive even after turning 25 and here's why ! (Reblog to spread the word!)

So if you are here, you probably know of the fact that a person with a Demon Slayer mark is bound to perish by the age of 25. Based on that, you might have also theorized that Tanjiro will die at the same age too.

I believe that is as true as the black nichirin blade granting a short life/bad luck, yep. A Myth/Superstition.

Before I start to share my thoughts on why I think so I need to bring a few points on the table

1. A Demon Slayer Mark is obtained through exposure to high temperature and extremely hard training. In the manga, I believe it has been established over and over again that the mark itself doesn't kill people rather its the strain which the person's body goes through inorder to achieve it.

2. Tanjiro's father had a demon slayer mark.

Tanjiro was 13 at episode/chapter 1. Back in those days, people married early (by today's standards) but still the eligible age for marriage of a male was 15. So if Tanjiro's dad had died at the age of 25 then that would mean he got married at the age of 12 and got Tanjiro as his son at the age of 13 which is impossible because of the age eligibility factor. Thus we *can* say based on all his appearances available to us plus this piece of info that he died around the age of 28-30.

Plus with what little insight we got from flashbacks, the family seemed to be suffering in slight financial crisis by the time Tanjuro (Tanjiro's father) was bed-ridden which would also mean that his father didn't even get proper medication and treatment due to it and this resulted in his ultimate demise.

Thus his father himself proves that even with bad health, a demon slayer marked person *can* survive after the age of 25 and the rule is not absolute.

This is further proven by figures such as Gyoumei and Yorichi. Though the latter was born with the mark, it doesn't stop it from being a fact.

3. Muzan says to Tanjiro that he has to pay the price of getting the mark and most people believe it without realizing one thing. Muzan was never speaking for the benefit of tanjiro at that moment. He was desperately seeking out the benefit for himself and was lying in every statement to manipulate Tanjiro into staying. Which could also mean that "the price" paying part could very well be trying to take advantage of an old Superstition inorder to make him stay.

Back to what the point,

Gyoumei got his mark at the age of 27 which, if the rule was absolute, should have killed him immediately yet he continued to survive. The thing which killed him ultimately was blood loss, getting severely injured during muzan fight and him not getting the medical attention on time. Similarly, Tanjuro could very well had been suffering from a similar problem of not getting the medicine he needed on time.

And with the strain of achieving a mark on their body still present, it lead to their demise.

However, Tanjiro's case is a bit different. Kinda special tbh

Tanjiro recieved his mark during the Tengen fights and evidently it put a lot of strain on his own physical and mental being.

Later during the Muzan fight, he almost died from his poison only to survive again and fight and by the end of the battle, actually died with one full part of his face covered in flesh and losing one of his eyes and arm; only to be revived as a demon and regenerate the missing parts and perhaps heal hemorrhages within his body in that given span of time. It is to be noted he was practically indestructible at that stage and developed better powers in terms of pretty much everything when compared to Nezuko and Muzan.

The Demon Slayer mark supposedly causes the death of the user but here, Tanjiro already died before turning 25 and then got resurrected with non functional but healed Eye and arm. Which could also mean that in the given time, he managed to heal alot/all of strains from his body which would also mean that the curse of the mark, responsible for a supposed death is gone, which would also mean that Tanjiro can live more than 25 years.

Maybe getting the mark puts the body in a strain which is usually inrepairable and never gets regenerated and overtime weakens the body causing death. It could be compared by an arm loss, if a human manages to lose his/her arm in some accident, we all know he/she isn't going to recover but during Tanjiro's demon transformation, he not only regrow his arm in seconds but also recovered his vision and face completely. Who is to say he didn't recover himself from the strain his body had been coping with ?

So it could give us a good conclusion that his body managed to recover from the factor which actually makes the person die. He was later taken to the butterfly mansion where (we as readers know, have near modern day medical supplies with blood transfusion and all) he was taken care of and he seemed to be healthy and fit enough to interact with everyone and perform basic tasks without any complications.

Later in Tanjiro Status Report, he see that him and Nezuko recieved huge financial help and seem to be leading a sofisticated and sufficient life which enables them to buy and get the things they need and because of their connections, I am pretty sure Tanjiro and co. Can get free medicine and medication from butterfly mansion and kanao if needed (even though I am pretty sure Tanjiro would forcefully pay them later)

All these points not only support but can also prove that a person like Tanjiro can and have survived past 25.

He had all what he needed to stay healthy and got rid of the "curse" of the mark thanks to Muzan's interference.

Now many of you can ask "What about Giyuu and Sanemi?" Then...as much as I hate to say it, Idt they would make it past 25 since Giyuu didn't go through resurrection and heal stuff and same goes for Sanemi and both must have received medical attention later but let's be real, their bodies probably will never be able to recover from the stress unlike Tanjiro whose demon transformation might have been super lucky for him.

Now again the question of "But Tanjiro is expecting to live a short life and prepared for it & cant seem to have the stamina he has before as pointed in his status report manga"

Because like any normal person he believed what he was told about life span with a mark

We all dont know when or where we will meet our ends but we are given a small general idea on how many years we can expect to live in our lifetime which varies from place to place. That is the reason most people plan things for the future incase the worse one day happens unexpectedly.

Everyone has a general idea "oh I will live till I am 70" "Imma be 90 and die" "I will die at the age of 54" etc

Tanjiro's perception on how long he will live must have come from others with mark/elders in a similar way and about fatigue, it wasn't just him. It was every demon slayer. Everyone was tired and didn't have the energy as they use to have before after the Muzan fight which is natural since everyone was still hurt by the losses and mental & physical exhaustion it had put everyone through and slowly it is bound to recover overtime.

And by the end of the status manga, we see signs of it already.

Then after Yorichi, he is the only sun breather which could imply sun breathers can surpass the age limit and survive longer.

Also the only we literally got 2 evidence to support the 25 age theory and both of them were from bad guys.

Muzan and Yorichi's brother. And the latter even went "Right? .....Right??......*Right*?" And Gyomei proved that his theory of people surpassing the age was true all along. It is also worth noting that No hashiras ever made it to the Upper Moons and were killed by the lower ones. So they all must have died natural deaths from injuries instead of marks. This further proves that the marks are nothing but myths. Heck even Tanjuro (Tanjiro's father) managed to live past 25 and died of improper medications and his illness.

Therefore with that, I conclude that (with all respect) Tanjiro will live past 25 years and have a long, happy life and the theory saying he will die at the age of 25 along with Giyuu and Sanemi is bullshit

Thank you for reading, please do tell me your thoughts!

#demon slayer #tanjirou #tanjiro kamado #nezuko #Zenitsu #inosuke #tomioka giyuu #kimetsu no yaiba sanemi #kimetsu no yaiba #sanemi #demon slayer yoriichi

[suchalonelysunflower]

I gave you my heart (h.s)

Pairing: Harry Styles X Reader

Requested: Yes!

Summary: Harry is trying to propose to you, but his family is getting in the way.

Warnings: Fluff. Angst if you really pay attention. Language. Mentions of alcohol (barely) Some grammatical errors (English is not my first language, sorry!)

Word count: 4.1 K

Author’s Note: Oh how I missed writing for Harry! And a fluffy piece nonetheless! Who am I? Well, this is a Holiday fic (non specific) and I’m also planning to do a 5SOS holiday fic by the end of the year, so stay tuned! 🌻 Reblogs, comments, feedbacks and likes are welcomed and encouraged! Please, I love to hear from you guys 💕 Hope you like it and Happy Reading 🦋✨

My materialist // wanna be on my tag list?

Picture form Pinterest. Title from the song “last Christmas”

Ok i know this is cheesy but hear me out, Harry proposing on Christmas with his family around.

Harry kneeled in front of you. His hands were intertwined with yours as he spoke of all the grand adventures you had and how much he adores you while your eyes filled with glossy cold tears. He couldn’t see his mum from where he was, but he could already tell she started crying as well while Gemma held her in a side hug, watching the scene they never thought would happen being displayed in front of them.

Words of praise left his mouth like a symphony, knowing that he will never get tired of praising you as the angel you were. Tears started forming in his eyes as he promised you a lifetime of love and adventure, hoping with all his heart you would say yes.

They all knew the question that was going to pop out of his lips any time now.

“So, Y/N L/N” He said, as the fireworks started to go off behind them “Will you marry me?”

You wiped your tears with the back of your hand and with a smile you answered:

“You better wake up before I leave you in the car”

Harry opened his eyes in shock, cursing under his breath as he realized he had fallen asleep without realizing.

You were on your way to Anne’s house for the Holidays, just like you promised a few months ago when Harry finalized all his tour arrangements. You were very excited to see Harry’s family again, it has been a while since you got to spend any time with them as you accompanied Harry across the world for the most part of the past year. You love them with all your heart and it comforts you to know that the feeling is completely mutual - Anne practically adopting you the minute you came through the door as Harry’s partner a few years ago and Gemma quickly becoming your best friend over the span of a few minutes, bonding over clothes, movies and embarassing Harry stories.

Harry loved how much you and his family love each other, for that is all he asked. For him there are only three things that matter most: His music and his fans; His family and, of course, you. He felt really blessed to have you in his life during all these years, knowing that you love him just as much as he loves you (although he would always fight that he loves you more) You were his rock, his best friend, his world… and he cannot wait to put a rock on that hand to prove that to you.

He got the ring a few months prior, but he knew he wanted to marry you from the first moment he saw you interact with his family. He still remembers that cold December night when he came downstairs looking for you and you were sleeping on the couch next to Gemma. You have been talking all night and were exhausted by the time you both finished that bottle of wine. He stood on the entrance of the living room watching the cozy scene with a smile plastered across his face. He knew he loved you back then, but his happiness at that moment was unmatched.

He was so entranced by the picture that he didn’t notice Anne standing beside him.

“This one’s a keeper” She said in a low voice as she watched you both with tenderness in her eyes. But Harry already knew that.

And now, as you were driving the cold snowy roads of Cheshire, Harry drifted back from his fantasy waiting to come true. Thinking back and forward of the little velvet box that is hidden in his suitcase.

“Sorry,” He said with a yawn “Didn’t notice I fell asleep”

You smiled at him but kept your eyes on the road “It’s okay, love. I know you must be tired of the trip. That is why I asked you to switch seats and let me drive in the first place”

Harry stared at you for a moment, completely enamored by your thoughtfulness. He really was lucky to have you.

“Besides,” You joke “With your driving skills, we might get to Homes Chapel the day after the Holidays if we are lucky”

Harry rolled his eyes “Oh, bug off!” He said as he mocked annoyance, but his laugher soon joined yours as you continued your way towards his childhood home.

*

You let out a happy squeal once you noticed Anne standing in front of her house from a distance, wasting no time on parking the car so you could run up to her and hug her.

“Aww I’m so glad you’re finally here!” Said the matriarch of the Styles’ family as she crushed your body in a tight hug “I’m never letting you go a year without visiting us again!”

“It will not happen again! I promise” You answered with a laugh.

She let you go just enough so she could place her palm on your cheek, caressing it in a motherly way “You better! And in any case you could always run away from my son and come stay here for as long as you want!”

This is when Harry decided to interject. He was standing behind you, smiling at the exchange that was happening in front of him.

“Oi! No need for that now, mum”

Anne laughed as she went to hug her son, murmuring about how if he doesn’t keep an eye on you she would steal you from him without a second thought.

After a few more greetings, Anne ushered you into the house. The warm environment and the smell of a homemade meal made you feel at home.

You always loved to come and visit Harry’s childhood home. It reminded you of him, the real Harry you got to know on a more personal and deep level. The Harry that let all his walls down and let you in, welcoming you to his house, his family and friends and into his heart. The Harry you love with all your being.

“‘m gonna head and help mum with dinner” Your boyfriend said as he hung his coat by the door “You’ve been driving all day, love. You should rest”

He pressed his chest to your back and rounded his arms around your waist to hold you closer before placing a kiss to the shell of your ear. You hummed “‘m not tired. I don’t think I could rest till much later.”

“Still,” Harry said “At least try to rest? Don’t want you to feel sick and I know you’ll hate to miss all the traditions”

You sighed “At least that way I’ll get you to take care of me, right?” You smiled at him and he smiled back.

“Always, darling”

You placed a couple little chaste kisses to his lips, pulling away from his grasp before he started to try and deepend them as he always does “‘m gonna go unpack my suitcase then. Want me to unpack yours?”

Harry was about to answer when the alarms in his head went off, reminding him of the little box you should definitely not find “Uh, n-no. I have to show something to my mum” He lied “I’ll unpack my stuff later. Thank you, though”

His response got you a little confused, but you just shrug your shoulders and turned around towards the guest room, aka: Harry’s old room. Letting Harry let out a relief breath once you went out of sight. This was going to be a long holiday.

*

Gemma arrived later that night. She didn’t even put her luggage on the ground before she caught your eye and ran to hug you.

“Oh my god” She said, hugging you tighter “I have so much to tell you!”

“Oh sure,” Harry said, walking towards her as she almost left you out of breath “I’m just your brother who you haven’t seen in a long time… Why should I get a hug?”

The older Styles rolled her eyes “Because I see you in every social media post there is you dork! Besides, I have had Y/N in my life rather recently compared to living with you under the same roof for almost seventeen years”

Harry placed his hand over his heart and mocked a hurt expression, making his sister laugh before she moved on to wrap him into a hug.

“I missed you, you wanker” She said, hiding some love in the insult.

“Me too, jerk”

“But I missed Y/N more” She said with a grin, pulling away from Harry and turning back to you. Intertwining your arms so you’d walk together into the living room “So, I was telling you…”

Hours flew by and before you’d realized it was almost 2 am when you and Gemma made your ways to your respected rooms. You noticed that Harry went to bed a little earlier and you guessed he would be asleep by now.

You found your boyfriend safe and tucked away in dreams once you opened the door. You smiled to yourself as you admired his sleeping figure sprawled all over the bed with one arm spread over your side, waiting for you to cuddle up against it.

A yawn flew through you as the exhaustion of the day settled in. You quickly changed into your cozy pajamas, did your nighttime routine and layed in bed next to Harry, who, as soon as he felt you by his side, pulled your body closer to him.

“Hi” He said in a whisper, kissing the shell of your ear.

“I thought you were sleeping, H” You giggled as you felt his hand caress your side.

“Couldn’t sleep well without you, you know that”

And indeed you did. Harry always complained whenever he was on tour that he missed you too much and that he needed you even more “I just feel better when I’m with you, love. I do better. It’s like you are my lucky charm or something” He’d always said before he convinced you to travel the world with him. And, to be honest, you did not need that much convincing. If you could spend all your living days with Harry, you would.

“Wha’ time is it anyways?” He asked.

“Late” You shrugged, turning your body so you were facing him “I’m sorry. We didn’t realize we spent all night talking”

Harry furrowed his eyebrows “Why are you apologizing for? I love when you spend time with my family”

“But I almost didn’t spend time with you!”

Harry chuckled “It’s okay, love. I know how my mum and sister can get whenever you are around. They love you almost as much as I do”

“Well, Gemma did say she loved me more....” You teased, making Harry scoff.

“Not possible” He pressed his lips to yours, trying to make your worry disappear “‘m serious, though. Don’t be sorry for spending too much time with them. I swear it 's fine. We could have time for ourselves at any point of the Holiday”

You murmured a soft ‘okay’ before drifting into a peaceful sleep. Harry watched you sleep for a few minutes, taking in the joyful peace that your presence gifted to him whenever you were around. Thinking about how he cannot wait to make you an official Styles.

However, that was not going to be an easy job.

*

As the day passed, you and Harry had less and less time for yourselves as Anne and Gemma got you two completely busy with different activities. From getting the groceries, to help one of them decorate the house or even to just take a walk. You were never not doing something.

And it wasn’t like a bad thing either. On the contrary, you were having the time of your life sharing all of these amazing traditions with Harry’s family. They made you feel welcome and cared for, something that was fairly new to you since you met Harry.

You loved decorating the House and baking cookies with Anne, and it felt so great to have a friend like Gemma around to take the seriousness out of a serious situation and just let you have your fun. But you would be lying if you’d say that you don’t miss your boyfriend.

Even though Harry was always just mere feet from you, he was also caught up in various activities and could barely spend any time with you and that was making him frustrated.

The Holidays were stressful enough, but for Harry this took a whole other level when he thought about the proposal and how many times he failed at getting you two alone so he could do it.

The first miss opportunity came when it started snowing the day after your arrival. He knew how much you loved snow because, in your own words, it made it all seem magical. So when he woke up early that day, he decided that now was the time and that he was ready to pop up the big question. He was going to ask you to play in the snow - just like you usually do - and make a snowman. But the surprise would come with the ring that would be on the snowman’s finger, ready to be placed on your hand if you said yes. Sadly, when you two got ready to go and play, Anne solicited yours and Harry’s help to go and take some food to the shelter that was not so far away from here, a tradition the Styles’ family have been doing since Harry was a baby. When you came back, most of the snow had melted and you were too tired to even think of going outside again.

The second time Harry’s plan got held up was on a frosty night. He had prepared a cozy inside picnic in front of the fireplace for only you and him. He knew that Anne would be out with some of her friends and that Gemma had plans to meet up with someone on a date, so they wouldn’t be able to interrupt in any way. He got a bottle of wine, a charcuterie board, some chocolate covered strawberries, a fluffy blanket and some candles to light up the dark room. He also made you change in your pajamas so you’ll be even more comfortable during the date. Everything went according to plan, his hand almost reaching for the velvet box he hid under one of the couch’s cushions when Gemma came early from her date, completely ruining the moment as she came into the room fuming because she got stood up. Needless to say he did not propose that night.

Harry was convinced that the third time was the charm. Since it was obvious he couldn’t propose in the house without being rudely interrupted every time, he was going to take you out for lunch and then go ice skating, one of your favorite winter activities. Yes, he was aware that it wasn’t his most elaborated plans, but he didn’t know what to do. Plus, he had talked to the owner of the ice skating pit beforehand, asking him to please let them have at least one hour of privacy so he could propose in peace. The owner even promised him to play the playlist Harry made for you and to add some special lightning to make the moment more romantic.

Feeling excited, Harry ran down the stairs to give you the news of your date. But his face fell when he saw you getting ready to go out with Gemma and his mum.

“Are you going out?” He asked as he saw you put on your coat.

“Yes,” You answered with a smile, but that smile soon felt when you saw the disappointment in Harry’s eyes “Your mum asked me and Gemma to go for a last minute shopping run… Harry are you okay, love?”

Your boyfriend closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, a habit he acquired whenever he was frustrated “‘m perfect” He mumbled, turning around to go back to your shared room.

But you were quicker as you grabbed him softly by the arm to make him stop in his tracks. Slowly making him turn around so he was face to face with you “Don’t lie, H. What is going on?”

“‘m just,” He started, but he couldn’t even look you in the eyes as he tried to find the right words to say to you, almost feeling like he is failing you somehow “We never got the chance to spend some time together, Y/N. You are always busy or I am always busy with my mum or with Gemma that I almost didn’t see you this whole trip and I-I just miss you”

Your eyes softened and your heart fluttered with his words. You missed him too, much more than you could say. Everytime you find some time for yourselves you get interrupted and by the end of the day you are both too tired to do anything else besides sleeping. You could tell Harry was frustrated by this whole ordeal, you just didn’t imagine it would affect him this much.

You cupped his cheek and brought him into a sweet kiss “I miss you too, love. Very much” You watched how Harry’s green eyes softened, but they still held an unspoken sadness “If you want me to stay with you, then I’ll stay with you. I don’t need to go with them, you know?”

Harry sighed, placing his hand over yours and caressing it with his thumb “I know” He said as he gave a kiss to your palm “You know how much I love seeing you hanging out with them and I know how much you enjoy it. You should go”

“But Harry-”

“Go, have fun!” He said in a cheerful tone as he brought you closer to give you a hug “I’ll be fine, love. I just want you to remember this Holiday and to enjoy it as much as you can”

“Are you sure? Because I can stay if you-”

“‘m sure,” He smiled, placing a kiss on your forehead, “Go, darling. They must be waitin’”

You smiled back at him and pecked his lips before turning around and closing the front door. Missing for just a second the way Harry’s smile dropped as he saw his plan being shut down once again.

*

He wasn’t proud of his last resort. He knew you deserved an epic proposal, something that could come out from an Oscar winning movie. Something that was as special as you are. And he was beating himself for ruining every chance he’s got to do this properly, but he promised himself that he would not let you - nor him - return home without a shiny rock on your hand. And a Styles never backs down from a promise.

So, with his heart almost beating out of his chest, he placed the gift bag with the other gifts that adorned the living room. Everything will be done tomorrow and there is no turning back now. It was now or never.

The next morning, you found yourself caught up in another Styles’ tradition. You were all sitting in the living room wearing your coziest pajamas as you drank hot cocoa and ate some gingerbread cookies with a pinch of peppermint. It was almost time to open the presents and you could tell Harry was feeling rather anxious.

“Did you sleep well?” You asked as you curreled up to him on the couch that was facing Anne and Gemma, who were already starting to distribute the presents among you.

Harry hummed as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders, turning his face so he was looking at you. He could swear in that moment that he has never seen someone as beautiful as you right now as you watched him with doe eyes, your hair a little bit messy and a thin layer of chocolate decorating your upper lip. He was completely and utterly in love with you.

“Yeah, why’d you ask?”

You shrugged “You were tossing and turning a lot last night, almost like you were nervous or something. Are you sure everything’s alright?”

Harry smiled “I got you, don’t I? How could anything not be alright?”

You rolled your eyes at his cheesy remark, but quickly gave him a kiss on the cheek. Harry didn’t miss the way your cheeks blushed.

“I asked Anne and Gemma to give us a day for ourselves” You said after a moment. Harry looked at you surprised. You couldn't know..? “I told them I felt guilty that I haven’t spent any time with you since we arrived and they understood” You smiled at him “I got you all for myself today, mr. Styles”

Harry’s eyes filled with glee as he brought your lips to him, kissing you with all the love he could pour at the moment.

“Uh, mum?” Gemma’s voice interrupted the scene “I don’t think this is mine” She said as she opened a gift bag.

“No? It’s a jewelry bag so I thought-”

Gemma shook her head “No! This is definitely not for me” She said as she took the little velvet box from inside, making the room go completely quiet. In that moment, all eyes went to Harry as he watched the scene with horror.

“Oh shit” He said, untangling himself form you so he could grab the box from his sister’s hand “Actually, this is mine”

All three of you stayed quiet as he grabbed your hand and kneeled in front of your sitting figure on the sofa.

“Oh my god” You said, covering your mouth that almost fell to the ground because of the shock.

“Oh my god” Gemma and Anne said in unison as they realized what was happening in front of them.

“Y/N,” Harry said looking into your eyes “Let me start by saying that this is not how things were supposed to go. And I’m not just talking about my sister opening your gift. I’ve been trying to propose for as long as this Holiday lasted. Waiting for the perfect moment because you are my perfect half, my soulmate and you deserve nothing less than pure and utter perfection, my love. And I’m sorry I can’t give that to you now”

You could feel the tears pouring down your face since the moment he kneeled in front of you, but hearing Harry say that he wanted to propose all along made you cry harder, how did you get so lucky?

“I knew I had to do this here, for this is the place where I knew I wanted to marry you the first time we came to visit. I have loved you from the very first moment you said hello, and I knew from that instant that you were going to become my favorite hello and my most painful goodbye. Y/N you are magic, my love. My lucky charm. Everything I do, everything I say or think or sing is for and because of you. You are my muse and my best friend. My anchor and my wings. I cannot live without you nor do I ever want to. You have bewitched me body and soul and I love you. I love you. I love you”

You could hear the distant sobs of Anne in the background, but all you could see was Harry. Harry, your best friend and lover. Harry, the person who filled your life with love and light. Harry, who was now on one knee, with tears in his eyes and a ring on his hand. Harry. Harry. Harry.

“You don’t have to say yes, but I really hope that you do. Y/N, my love. I love you more than life itself, you have made me a better man by loving me the way that you do. Let me love you the same now and forever. Will you marry me?”

You nodded through the tears “Yes, Harry. A million times yes!”

You swore Harry’s smile could light up the world in that moment as he slid the ring down your finger. But you didn’t even look as you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him like his mum and sister weren’t watching, throwing the both of you to the floor.

Anne and Gemma started clapping, celebrating the new beginning of the young couple. Because these holidays had a new meaning now, since now and forever they will be remembered as the day you said “yes” to the love of your life.

Tags: @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @multistann @mystic-232

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #suchalonelysunflower #harry styles fluff #harry styles fic #harry styles love #harry one direction #harry 1d #solo harry #holiday Harry #harry styles x reader #anne twist #gemma styles #harry fic #harry fanfiction #harry fanfic #harry styles 2020 #harry x gender neutral! reader #fine line #h.s #h.s imagine #hshq #harry edward styles

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

Going back home {Chapter 2}

Summary: Claire never thought she would be back in the town she grew up in. But after her fiancé broke off their engagement, leaving her 5 months pregnant and alone she found herself calling Frankie Morales in the middle of the night, one of her childhood friends who insisted that she booked the next flight out. Trying to fix her life with a little help from her friends she would find out soon that going back would be the best decision she ever made.

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Claire Beck

wordcount: 2k

Warnings: pregnancy hormones, pining

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Chapter 1 | Chapter 3

“You know your childhood home is for sale?” Claire sat on the patio next to Pope who had decided to catch up with her.

“Seriously?” she asked and he nodded.

“Yeah. It looks bad though.”

“Like every house in this area that’s currently on sale,” she rolled her eyes.

“Yeah there are not many people moving down here, though there seem to be getting more in the last few years.”

“I mean it’s beautiful here,” she let her eyes wander over the landscape. She had always loved it here. Whole summers were spent on the Morales ranch when she was younger. Could have to do with the fact that Pa’ Morales made the best BBQ ever.

“Yeah it is. Better for your girl to grow up here, than in the big city huh?” he asked. She looked at Pope. He had gotten older. The lines around his eyes deeper than before. He always loved to laugh.

“Yeah. Though I didn’t picture it like that. I…” she sighed, feeling silly for the tears in her eyes. Fucking hormones.

“Hey. It’s okay. You gonna be fine,” his hand came down on her knee, squeezing it in comfort.

“Yeah you all keep saying that but it’s not you who has to push a baby out of your vagina without the father being there. It’s not you who has the responsibility to take care of a helpless kid for the rest of your life. I just… why? Why does he get to decide to walk out of this? It’s my pill that apparently didn’t work but it was him fucking me without a condom. He should take the responsibility just as much as I have to. Fuck…” she let her head fall back.

“Fuck him,” she looked up, hearing Frankie’s voice.

“Fuck him. He’s an excuse of a man. You don’t walk away from the woman you love. From the woman who’s carrying your child. Fuck… I was going through rehab while Liz was pregnant and I didn’t walk out…” he kneeled down next to her. She sucked her bottom lip in.

“I just feel so… so…” she shook her head.

“I know. But you’re not alone. You got me,” he looked at her. He was planning on taking her out for lunch when he walked in.

“But it’s not your job to take care of me Frankie. You got your own family.”

“You are family,” Pope said, now standing behind Frankie. “And if you want us to kill him, just say the word,” he teased and she had to laugh at that before she looked at Frankie again.

“I told you. You don’t want a hormonal woman living with you,” she joked and Frankie chuckled.

“I can take living with a hormonal woman,” he reached up to brush away her tears.

“Now what do you say? Lunch?” he asked and she sighed before she nodded.

“I gotta head out. But i’ll bring the house offers I found over tonight, okay?” Pope asked and she nodded. He smiled, leaning down to kiss her cheek before he left.

“I mean it. You’re family. Don’t ever think you’re a burden or alone. We’re here for you. I am here for you, okay?” Frankie said. Claire breathed in deep and nodded.

“Gotta get used to people caring. I was pretty lonely the last few years I guess.”

“Yeah. Better get used to it quickly,” he winked before he helped her out of the seat.

“Gotta get dressed I guess,” she shrugged.

“And I gotta shower. I can smell myself.”

“Yeah. You stink,” she grinned before she walked past him, leaving Frankie head shaking on the patio.

“Lunch is on you,” he called after her and she gave him the finger, making him laugh before he followed her inside to take a shower.

“So what made you open up a gardening business of all things, Morales?” she asked, sitting in the old diner they used to spend so much time in when they were younger. It might be lunch time but she couldn’t wait to have her ordered pancakes.

Frankie shrugged.

“I like being outside, keeps my mind off things.”

“You any good?” Claire teased and Frankie huffed.

“Let’s just say if you need any gardening I won’t be able to help you before the end of the year,” he winked.

“Impressive. I’m happy for you. Even though I still wanna hear the story as to what exactly happened in the last two years…” she said quietly, hearing Frankie sigh.

“Only when you tell me your story.”

She sighed and smiled sadly.

“We have a lot to talk about huh?” she asked.

“Yeah. But in time. Now we gotta eat and then we got to head to the store. Still need some stuff for the BBQ.”

“Fuck how many people are coming to this BBQ? I only have like 5 friends left here and I already met 4 of them,” Clarie groaned, leaning over the shopping cart as Frankie loaded another six pack of beer in.

“Pope kinda invited everyone over he knows so you can get to know everyone.”

“Because I like hanging out with people so much?” she asked, letting her head hang, earning a chuckle from Frankie.

“You and me both. But they’re all okay. Promise,” he squeezed her shoulder in comfort and she smiled a little, bumping her shoulder against his as he came to stand next to her.

“So what else do we need?”

“I got everything. Anything you need?”

“Ice cream?” Claire asked after thinking about it. Frankie only nodded as he grabbed the cart from her and pushed it towards the freezers with the ice cream. Like he had done it a million times before he walked towards the freezer, picking up Claire’s favorite Mint & Chocolate Chip ice cream and threw it in the cart.

“Still your favorite?” he asked as he saw the surprise in her face. She only nodded, a small smile playing at her lips.

“But pick up the mango ice dream too. Been craving that lately,” she grinned and Frankie nodded only before he reached for the biggest container.

The car ride to Frankie’s was quiet, both of them hanging on to their thoughts. It was strange how they seemed to fall back into their old dynamic as if no time had passed. It made Claire aware of just how much time she had spent with him when she was younger.

“This house is for sale,” Frankie said quietly as he stopped in front of the house just down his road.

“Charming…” Claire made a face and Frankie laughed. With lots of imagination she could see herself living here. But not within the next 4 months. This would be harder than she thought it would be.

“Maybe I should have stayed in New York…” she groaned to herself, her head falling back against the seat. She felt a hand on her thigh, her head tilting towards Frankie, unable to see his eyes behind his dark aviators.

“It’s been one day since you got here. We gonna find a house for you,” he squeezed her thigh and she sighed before she looked out of the window again. Frankie felt a weird feeling wash over him, his eyes dropping to the swell of her belly, before he released his hand from her to bring it back to the steering wheel, driving the car the short distance to his farm. A part of him wondered if the choices he made earlier in his life could have prevented some of the stuff he had gone through. Maybe he should have at least tried to go to college. Maybe he would have had a job that wouldn’t have required him leaving for months at the time. Maybe he would have had the guts to tell Claire that he wanted to be more than friends before he left for basic training. But he had found out that she had slept with Santiago, shattering all kinds of hope he might have had, that there was something more between them. To this day he wasn’t sure if maybe there had been more all these years back. He had always been too scared to tell Claire, scared that this would ruin their friendship. A friendship he had missed in the last years. He had wasted years on sleeping with women he never called after until it was a woman, Liz, calling him to tell him that she was pregnant. And he tried to make it work, he really did. A part of him loved Liz, because she was the mother of his child. But that was nothing compared to how he felt when he looked at Claire.

“Is it okay if I take a nap? I’m dead on my feet,” Claire asked as he stopped the car. He blinked at her, so lost in his thoughts. She yawned and he found himself smiling at her.

“Of course. As long as you make your guacamole later?”

She laughed, shaking her head with an eye roll.

“Wake me in two hours?”

“You got it,” he got out of the car, opening the door for her, helping her out. He had noticed her struggling to get out of his truck before.

“Thank you Frankie,” she kissed his cheek before she turned around to walk towards the door. He looked after her until she disappeared inside the house, shaking his head to himself.

“Get it together, Morales,” he whispered to himself before he unloaded the car and got inside himself.

Claire was in the middle of explaining to Frankie how to open an Avocado without killing himself worked, when the door flew open and the Miller brother’s barged inside.

“You got problems with your pipes?” Ben grinned at Claire and she snorted.

“In your Dreams, Miller,” she seasoned the avocados. Frankie shook his head.

“Come on, I show you my pipes,” Frankie teased, making Ben gag while Claire laughed loudly.

“You okay Claire?” Will asked, sitting down at the kitchen island in front of her, after he put the steaks in the fridge. Claire sighed.

“Didn’t think it would be this hard, but Frankie’s a big help,” she smiled a little, tasting the guacamole she was making. She reached for more salt.

“Yeah, he’s awesome. But be gentle with him. The whole custody thing is still pretty fresh,” Will said quietly.

“He hasn’t talked to me about it.”

“He will, I’m sure he will. Just… I mean you probably know him better than I do…”

“I’m gonna take care of him. Promise,” she whispered with a soft smile and Will seemed relieved as he nodded at her.

“Miss Beck. Your pipe problem has been solved,” Ben announced coming back soaked through his shirt back into the kitchen. Claire tilted his head, nodding approvingly at the muscles she could see through his white shirt before she looked up into his eyes with a teasing grin.

“I’ll make sure to preach about your plumbing services, Mr. Miller,” she winked and could swear she saw him blush for a second.

“Enough with the puns, we got a BBQ to prepare. Claire your shower is working,” Frankie emerged from the hallway, pulling a fresh shirt over his head and now it was Claire’s turn to blush before she became very invested in the guacamole in front of her while trying not to think about Frankie’s sunkissed skin on his chest, the little tummy or the dark trail of hair she most certainly didn’t want to lick.

She didn’t see Will’s knowing look before he got up from the seat to follow his brother outside.

Claire was so focused on the guacamole she only saw Frankie’s hand in the last second, slapping it away as he tried to steal a taste of the guacamole.

“Mean,” he pouted.

“Good things come to those who wait,” she grinned before she picked up the bowl to put it into the fridge, bending down to open the freezer for her mango ice cream. Frankie bit his lip as his eyes wandered down her body, averting his eyes before she turned around.

Fuck he wished that good things would be coming to those who waited.

Chapter 3

#my writing #going back home #frankie morales #pedro pascal #frankie morales x ofc #fanfic #fan fic #fanfiction

[mfpeace]

@justbeingedgy @weird-colombian-gurl You asked me to elaborate on the "Ches already has a kid" theory in the notes of that one mf analysis post (which I really liked, go check it out!!), so that's why I'm making this one, cuz notes are a bit too restricting for what I want to talk about!

Though next time think twice before asking me to talk about something I'm interested in, because you never know when you're gonna wake up lovecraftian horrors!! :DDD you'll see what i mean when you press read more :))

So, I'll say it right now - this post is largely inspired by the second story highlight of this Instagram user (sorry, I don't know their name, only that their Instagram handle is dee_girl_metalfamilyfan), it's in Russian though, so keep that in mind

Alright, so I'll break this theory into two parts: the first one will be all about Ches, and the second will be about his potential child (spoiler: you might've seen her!)

Without any further ado, let's get to the Ches part:

1. The creators said that they're gonna explore Ches' character in the second season. Obviously, it doesn't mean anything on it's own, but just wait.

Dima: Let's talk about the second season a little. Of course, the seconds season will show development of the old characters, as well as new ones. That's in short. As you see, Ches looks a bit different here.

Alina: Yeah, we'll show a bit more about Ches at the ages of 18 to 20. His past. We'll reveal a bit more about his complex character, as much as it's possible.

(The source of the translation) Also I think they also said at one point that adult Ches will get some character development too? But that's probably a given, considering that we wouldn't see his youth if it wouldn't have affected him in the present, flashbacks without any relevance to the overall story don't sound so good

2. Not sure about this one (we don't know how much in character it was) but I can't not mention it.

Alina: Actually there was this one fanfic that I really liked. I don’t remember what it was called, but it was about Ches having a daughter, which is a cool topic. It was relatively in character and truly interesting. It’s great when people focus not just on sexual relationships of the characters, but also try to look at their development. That was a really interesting one. That’s it.

(UnityCon '19)

3. This one's a pretty big one, in my opinion. So, this is what they said on ArtWave '19:

Dima: Ches also has flaws.

Alina: [to Dima] Don’t spoil stuff.

Dima: His flaw is that he's very... irresponsible, let’s say.

So, maybe, just maybe, Ches does have a child but he, you know... left them? As the Instagram highlight from the beginning say: "he might be irresponsible enough to leave his child, and he's probably irresponsible enough not to use any contraception" (rephrased, not the exact quote)

4. Alright, so, the only mention of this one I can think of right now is the aforementioned Instagram highlight. The Metalfamilyfan says:

I contacted Korg/Корж, (admin of @ metal_yama [and I believe one of the organizers of the Metal Family Meetup in Moscow]) and she asked Alina on one of the meetups: "if Ches were to be a father, what kind of father would he be?"

And she said: "The kind of that would say "kid, look at that birdie over there!" an then he would run away"

Someone's words are not the perfect source, but they did tag Metal Yama and from what I know they didn't disagree with what the author of the page said. if anyone has anything to say about this (disprove or definitely prove what I said) feel free to do so in a reblog, notes, DMs, send me an anonymous ask, or in any other way you feel comfortable with

5. Ches has literally been through the same thing, and we know how important the theme of the cycle of abuse is in Metal Family (or, in this case, the cycle of neglect? Abandonment? Idk)

You managed to hide your PREGNANCY from me! AND you've been hiding the child from me for a whole year!

YES, because you would've insisted on aborting him!

AND NOW I'M INSISTING ON PUTTING HIM UP FOR ADOPTION! OR I'LL LEAVE RIGHT NOW!

6. Here we can see Ches with a blonde girl. Nothing too special, probably just a one time hook up. He doesn't seem to be interested in her, and she seems to be annoyed with him.

But wait...

What is this?

Like, it doesn't even matter if there's actually a punk/rock/whatever band named MOM or not, I just think it's pretty weird to put it in this particular drawing of Ches and this random woman who is implied to have slept with him. It's not integral to Ches' character as, for example, Korol i Shut is. It's just... there. For some reason.

------------

Alright, now, finally let's get to the second part of the theory: who is, exactly, his child?

The short answer is, according to this theory, her:

First, let me list every single instance of her appearing in canon (and by canon I mean everything made by the creators. Even with this definition of canon it's not much, I promise): The screenshot you can see above on the left (it's a screenshot from the second season and it appeared here), an instagram story posted by Alina (above, right), and two drawing with a lot of characters where you can spot the girl which I'm gonna call her PinkHair or PH for short, I'll mention them later I feel like I should mention this, comparing the sources of the images and the dates when they were posted, it's safe to assume that the screenshot in the classroom has the latest and final version of her design. The red hair most likely doesn't mean anything

1. Alright. So. we've seen Dee and PinkHair in a classroom together, so they're most likely related in some way, or at least they know each other. Their exact relationship doesn't matter here, because all that matters here is that they're related story-wise

Let's look at the first image. This is the banner of the main Metal Family channel. Ches is near Heavy (they get along quite well and I'm sure Heavy aspires to be like Ches in many ways), Dee (we can see his classmates/friends near him, they're all about his age), and we can see people related to Glam on the left side of the image (including Ches!), and Vicky's - on the right side (notice how the hell sign is also there)

Now, I'm not absolutely sure about this one, but it's still kind of weird - look at the image on the right (it's from ArtWave 2021 btw) - wouldn't it make more sense to put PinkHair near Dee? Also, Curiously enough, not only is she not close to Dee on this image, but she's also standing next to Ches.

Though this whole thing could be explained by art theory (too many small things in one corner of your drawing isn't great composition wise lol sorry PH) but I still can't quite skip this point

2. Remember the "MOM" lady? Fun fact, she has the exact same pearl earring that PinkHair has on the screenshot.

3. I'll put all similarities with her supposed parents in this point: Mother: * She's also pretty uh.. glam? for the lack of a better word? Or feminine in a traditional sense, yeah I think that's a better way to put it. Like colors they prefer to wear for example, and jewelry. Characters like that aren't common in Metal Family * She's gotta be a blonde. I can't imagine her being anything but blonde. If she manages to maintain that hair color as a brunette I'm just straight up assuming her character arc is gonna be killing God because these kind of people are capable of anything. I fear them with every fiber of my being. * I can't say for sure because of the shading, but it seems like they both have gray eyes, and she also has darker skin compared to most MF characters. Though, it's likely that Mom just applied a lot of fake tan Ches: * We know that Ches for sure has darker skin * AND grey eyes * There's also some possible personality similarities but I'm not sure if you can compare a child to a parent they've never really known in this way

That's about it, I suppose, I hope there isn't that many grammar mistakes and logically unfinished parts and whatnot in this post I forgot to edit lol x) I'm not sure how to end this post other than to remind you guys that almost all the points in this posts are inspired by the "тупая теория" highlight on the dee_girl_metalfamilyfan's Instagram page, so go check them out and subscribe, they post Dee x The Quest Girl fanart and and always credit the artists. Without them this post would be much, much shorter.

Thanks for reading this post, please feel free to let me know your thoughts on this post <3

#i tried to organize this but #yeah #also damn i hope PH's mother isn't in the same situation as Ches' :'( #at one point i misspelled parent in the context of ches as paren't and now i can't stop giggling like an idiot #these tags have completely different moods to them because I wrote them at different points in time btw #paren't #heh heh #metal family #metal family ches #metal family pinkhair #this seems like it's made up but if words end in ent or ant or something like that sometimes i automatically put an ' in without thinking

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

Loved your tags on the Brenda Strong reblog! We need it as the new supercorp au!

Well, sOMEONE gave me an idea of OG!Lillian losing her memory and staying with Eliza for a while, and all day during work I was daydreaming of amnesia!Lillian slowly being told her life and being eager and excited to meet her daughter, only to find herself facing off against each member of the superfriends first as they try to suss out whether the memory loss is legit and/or whether she deserves to be in Lena’s presence. But finally she passes the final test (Kara) and when Lena still resists meeting her, Lillian overhears her trying to explain why it’s a bad idea. “None of you get it: she is a master manipulator. Lex didn’t exist in a vacuum-- he had to learn it from somewhere, and he learned it from our father and from her.”

But Kara ultimately talks her into it, and Lillian finally finds herself face to face with the woman who is her daughter. Her beautiful, beautiful daughter. Except her daughter doesn’t do anything except sit there-- no eye contact, no attempts at conversation. Lillian finally breaks the silence. “It’s so good to finally see you...”

She reaches over to take Lena’s hand, but Lena pulls away before she can make contact. Lillian instead lets her hand rest on the table between them. A peace offering. 

“I’ve heard a lot about you. About your work in National City.”

Lena doesn’t respond.

“They say you’re a such a force for good--”

“Just-- stop,” Lena says finally. “You might have fooled them, but I’m not.”

“What they’ve told you is true-- I don’t remember--”

“And even if that were true, I’ll let you in on a little secret.” Finally, Lena meets her eye, but her gaze is cold. Cruel. “You are not a good person.”

Lillian’s heart falls, and only now does she realize how bad an idea this had been.

“I spent half of my life trying to earn your love and the other half trying to get away from you. Don’t think for a moment that I’m going to let you weasel your way into my life after I’ve finally gotten you out of it.”

So... it doesn’t go well. Ostensibly, Lena and Kara are in Midvale to visit Eliza over the fourth of July weekend. Kara planned to spend the night in her childhood home, but Lena refuses. 

“I won’t be under the same roof as her--”

“I’ll leave,” Lillian says. 

Eliza looks at her in sympathy, but doesn’t protest. “Perhaps it would be for the best. We can put you up in the local bed and breakfast for the weekend, and then after...”

After. After doesn’t matter to Lillian. Not when her only free and living child wants nothing to do with her. She lets Eliza make the plans, and collects her meager belongings into a borrowed suitcase. In a bout of stubborn refusal to quit, when Eliza invites her to the community cookout and fireworks display, Lillian accepts. If only to be in the vicinity of Lena, to observe her daughter and feel a part of her in even so distant a way, if only for the opportunity to show Lena that she is different than whoever she might have been.

But when she arrives the following afternoon, she learns that Lena remained behind alone. “To watch the house,” Eliza says, though the excuse is clear to everyone who hears it. Lillian also notices that her daughter’s partner Kara is also missing. 

“Called back to work in National City,” is the official party line, but Lillian isn’t sure she believes it any more than she believes Lena’s excuse. She tries to enjoy herself, but her thoughts are blocks away, with the woman who refuses to be her daughter.

The evening deepens to night, and as the fireworks display commences, Lillian tries to lose herself in the explosions that rock the very air. Soon though, the feeling of wrongness that’s been following Lillian all night catches up to her with a foggy sky and the scent of not sulphur, but woodsmoke.

“Fire!” a voice cries. “Fire! Fire!”

All heads snap towards the distant voice, and widen when they spot the glow of a building fire in the direction of Eliza’s cul-de-sac. The crowd on the beach move as one towards the scene, Lillian at the lead. Heart pounding against her ribs, she hears the wail of sirens approaching: too distant, too slow.

“Lena!” she screams as the burning house comes into view. “Lena!”

Lena isn’t on the street-- she isn’t anywhere to be seen. Realization hits like a bolt of lightning, and someone tries to hook an arm around her as she makes for the front door. Lillian wrenches herself free. “My daughter is in there!” 

 They aren’t strong enough or quick enough to stop her before she barrels through the front door. Lillian’s brain works rapidly to piece together that if the fire started on the ground floor, then the only reason Lena wouldn’t have made it out is if she were asleep on the top floor, where she would likely be unconscious from smoke inhalation. She thunders up the stairs, coughing as the smoke grows dense. Staying low, she sweeps through each room until she finds Lena in the attic room, unconscious on Kara’s bed. 

Lillian gathers her daughter up as best she can and drags her back downstairs, through the front door and out onto the grass of the front lawn, coughing all the way. Eliza and her daughter Alex look at her as though they’ve seen a ghost, but all Lillian can think of is that her daughter isn’t coughing.

“She isn’t breathing!” she cries, desperately. Tears spill down her cheeks, and not just from the smoke. Without hesitating, she lays Lena flat and begins to administer rescue breathing. Counting and breathing and crying, her world narrows to her task alone, until the hands of paramedics crowd her vision, moving her aside even as they reach for Lena.

“It’s all right ma’am,” one says gently. “We’ve got her from here.”

Lillian follows them to the hospital, and waits as her daughter is treated for smoke inhalation. Soon, she’s informed that Lena is comatose, and on a respirator. 

“I’d like to sit with her, please.”

No one thinks to tell her no. And so Lillian waits, for hours, over a day for her daughter to wake. Doctors come in and apprise her of Lena’s condition, but nothing prepares her for the fear that creeps into Lena’s eyes when they finally open, and she realizes there’s a tube down her throat. Nothing prepares Lillian for the way that fear amplifies the moment Lena lays eyes on her.

“Sweetheart, please,” she begs, “it’s okay, you’re okay. Please, calm down--”

But when Lillian reaches for her daughter’s hand Lena recoils again, and begins to thrash against the restraints that have kept her from pulling out her tube. Choked, muttering sobs emerge around the tube, and sickening gurgles chill Lillian to the core even as a new body inserts itself between them.

“Lena!” Kara says, taking Lena’s face between her hands. “It’s okay, I’m here. You’re safe. I promise you’re safe. Please, calm down... come on, breathe with me. In... out... don’t fight the tube, Lena, okay? Breathe with it... in... out...”

Slowly the monitors cease their shrill screaming, and only then does Lillian realize that doctors have converged as well, only to hold back until Lena was calm again.

“It’s okay, Lena. She’s leaving. She’s leaving...”

And Lillian does. She leaves the room, and doesn’t look back.

---

She can’t leave the hospital. Lillian makes it as far as the emergency room doors before the pull of Lena draws her back. This time, she sits with the others, waiting with bated breath for Kara to come back with news. 

When she does, Kara sits next Lillian directly. 

“They’ve extubated her,” the girl says softly. Woman, really. Kara is young, comparatively, yet old beyond her years with a weight Lillian can’t quite place. She offers Lillian a tired smile. “She’ll be okay.”

“She was afraid of me.”

Kara nods, not bothering to deny the truth. “She thought.... well, it doesn’t matter what she thought.” She runs a hand across her eyes. “You saved her life.”

“She’s my daughter.” The words come soft, almost plaintive, as though Lillian herself can’t quite believe them. 

“Thank you,” is all Kara returns.

---

Lena’s released a few days later. Kara takes her home to National City, and Lillian believes it to be the end of anything she might have had with her daughter. She tries to banish it from her mind, and focuses instead on Eliza, who now has the unfortunate burden of having had her home burn to the ground. They, at least, are friends, and Eliza seems to appreciate her support, however meager it is. 

Two days later, Lillian gets a call she isn’t expecting. 

“She wants to see you,” Kara says.

Lillian leaves Midvale that very minute with Eliza’s blessing. She makes the drive in record time, and soon finds herself in an apartment that’s both lavish and cozy, full of a warm life she thus far hasn’t been privy to. 

In the bedroom, Lena sits propped up with pillows, a box of tissues on one side and a waste bin on the other. “Sorry for the mess,” Lena croaks, cracking open one eye as the door creaks shut behind Lillian. “What I’m coughing up hasn’t exactly been pretty.”

Lillian sits on the furthest end of the bed. She itches to reach for Lena, to care and to mother her, but folds her hands in her lap instead in deference to the undercurrent of wariness that still runs through her daughter’s voice. 

“You saved my life,” is all Lena says after a moment. “Usually you don’t do that unless you have an ulterior motive. Like murder.”

Lillian flinches, but then freezes when she catches the slight hint of a smile playing at Lena’s lips. 

“Joking,” comes the rasping assurance. “Old-you would’ve gotten it.”

Instead of jumping in on the joke, Lillian finds herself fighting tears. “I really haven’t been much of a mother to you, have I?”

“No, you haven’t.” But this time it comes without malice, without judgement. 

Lillian wipes her eyes. “I’m so sorry, Lena. I wish-- I wish I had been better to you. You-- you deserve--- every happiness.”

“I do,” Lena agrees again. “But the good news is, I finally have people who let me believe that.”

“Good,” Lillian says breathlessly. “That’s... good.”

A long moment of silence passes between them. 

“I believe you,” Lena admits finally. Her shoulders lift in a shrug. “I don’t know what that means for anything between us, but--- I believe that you’re not... yourself.”

Lillian nods carefully. “It’s hard to hear the things I did. It feels like some other person entirely. I know it’s not,” she says quickly, “not really. But... I want to be better than her. Than who I was.”

Lena looks at her carefully. This time, Lillian looks back, holding her daughter’s gaze. 

“Will you help me?”

#brenda strong #good mom lillian #amnesia fic #angst #little bit of whump #at least i'm on brand #right? #based on that recent photo #couple posts back