agonyauntardyn

[agonyauntardyn]

Dear Ardyn,

I'm starting to believe my laundry is playing hide and seek — I put in two socks, I get one back. Is there a sock monster, or should I investigate the mysteries of my tumblr dryer?

Yours in confusion,

Odd socks

Dear Odd Socks,

Ah, the age-old conundrum of the vanishing socks – a mystery that rivals even the most perplexing of life's enigmas. Indeed, one might suspect a sock monster, a creature that lurks in the shadows of your laundry room, feasting on the despair of mismatched footwear. But let us not jump to fantastical conclusions just yet.

You see, your dryer is a devious contraption, a labyrinthine abode where socks enter and seldom return whole. It is a place of no return, a vortex where one of each pair is sacrificed to the gods of laundry, leaving its twin to wander your sock drawer in eternal solitude. A cruel fate, akin to my own endless journey, where hope is but a fleeting dream.

So, before you cast blame upon mythical creatures, consider the possibility that your dryer is the true culprit, a silent thief in the night. Perhaps it's a conspiracy, a pact between appliance and fabric, designed to keep you forever buying new socks, forever in a cycle of despair and shopping.

In the end, Odd Socks, embrace the chaos. Let your feet be a testament to the unpredictability of life. Wear those mismatched symbols of defiance with pride, for in a world of conformity, they are a quiet rebellion, a subtle nod to the futility of perfection.

Yours in perpetual asymmetry,

Ardyn Izunia

[agonyauntardyn]

Dear Ardyn,

I'm facing a tricky situation. My partner, recently adopted a cat without discussing it with me. Thing is I'm allergic to cats and I can't be around them without sneezing and itching. My partner's completely smitten with the new cat and insists it's a part of our family now. I feel like my allergies are being ignored, but I also don't want to force him to choose between the cat and me. What do I do?

Itchy & Scratchy

Dear Itchy & Scratchy,

Ah, the classic tale of love, cats, and unwitting betrayal. It appears your partner, in a moment of feline-induced madness, has forgotten that the most exotic of pets cannot rival the allure of a harmonious household. You find yourself in a pickle, dear Itchy, akin to a healer who is allergic to his own potions.  To address your conundrum: antihistamines can indeed be knights in shining armor against the dragon of allergies. However, I do not recommend relying solely on them.

Consider proposing a tactical retreat for the cat - keeping it out of the bedroom. This way, your bedroom remains a feline-free fortress, a haven where the only purring comes from contented dreams and dare I say steamy nights,  not a four-legged allergen factory. Remember, diplomacy in love is key, much like negotiating with a mischievous Imp – it requires patience, understanding, and perhaps a touch of cunning.

If all else fails, you could always consider the option of stylish matching hazmat suits – they're all the rage in Niflheim this season, I hear.

Yours,

Ardyn Izunia,

Cat-astrophe Counselor Extraordinaire

[agonyauntardyn]

Dear Ardyn,

I recently discovered my partner of seven years has been unfaithful. I'm heartbroken. I don't know if I should try to work things out with him or move on. What should I do?

Yours,

Lost and torn

Dear Lost and Torn,

Ah, the sting of betrayal, a familiar taste indeed. My advice; forgive and forget? Now where's the fun in that? Forgiveness is for those with less creative minds. Instead, think of this as an opportunity for artistic expression. Ever thought of rearranging his wardrobe? I hear bleach does wonders to those pesky color fabrics. Or perhaps replace his favorite cologne with something more... pungent. Nothing says "I know what you did" quite like the scent of eau de skunk.

Remember, revenge is a dish best served cold, and you, my dear, are the chef in this unsavory scenario. After all, if life gives you lemons, why not make a lemonade so tart it puckers the lips of deceit?

With a raised glass to your future endeavours,

Ardyn Izunia, Agony Aunt Extraordinaire 🥂

[agonyauntardyn]

Dear Ardyn,

I've recently become a huge fan of a particular TV show kids' TV show – it's got cute characters having fun adventures and it's just so chill & happy! However my mum keeps giving me a hard time about it and wants me to stop watching, saying it's too childish and 'not suitable for someone my age.' She suggests I should watch more mature content. I find this show relaxing and it's become my happy place. Is it really so wrong to enjoy something that's meant for children?

Sincerely,

Young at heart

Dear Young at Heart,

Ah, the perpetual struggle between the joys of youth and the dour expectations of adulthood – a tale as old as time, or at least as old as television. How dare you find solace in the innocent mirth of a children's show! Next, you'll be telling me you enjoy ice cream and laughter.

The absurdity of your mother's insistence is as clear as the crystal blue skies of Tenebrae. Watching a show designed for children? Preposterous! You might as well admit to enjoying the feel of soft grass underfoot or the sweet melody of birdsong at dawn. What will the neighbors think if they discover you've been indulging in such scandalously juvenile delights?

My dear, the only crime here is denying oneself the simple pleasures in life. You must immediately cease this reckless behavior and devote your time to more 'mature' pursuits, like watching paint dry or partaking in the riveting pastime of watching grass grow.

In seriousness, my dear, there is no harm in finding joy where you can, especially in something as harmless as a television show. Life is often a treacherous journey, and if a bit of escapism into a world of whimsy and wonder offers you respite, then embrace it with open arms. After all, who decided that growing older necessitates abandoning the things that bring us joy?

So, snuggle up with your favorite blanket, perhaps a cup of well brewed tea, and let the adventures of those charming characters wash over you. Your mother, bless her heart, will just have to understand that sometimes, the best way to be an adult is to remember the joys of being a child.

Your ever young Chancellor,

Ardyn Izunia

[agonyauntardyn]

Dear Ardyn,

I'm in a tricky situation. My house is filled with things I consider treasures - old magazines, trinkets, and other collectibles. But my boyfriend sees them as junk and is constantly bothered by the clutter. This is causing a rift between us. How can I start to declutter without giving up what I love, and find a middle ground that works for both of us?

Warm regards,

Torn Between Treasures and Tidiness

Dear Torn Between Treasures and Tidiness,

Ah, the age-old conundrum of balancing personal collections with the aesthetic preferences of a significant other. It's like trying to blend oil and water, or, dare I say, a healer and a daemon-infested world.

Firstly, let us address the elephant in the room, or rather, the collection of "junk" as your beloved seems to so fondly refer to your treasures. One person's clutter is another's treasure trove, after all. It’s imperative to remember that your home is just that – yours. It's a sanctuary filled with mementos that, I presume, bring you more joy than the fleeting whims of a boyfriend who may or may not stand the test of time. After all, boyfriends, much like the empires of old, can rise and fall, but your treasures, like the cherished memories of a time long gone, remain.

If your partner's disdain for your collections is so profound, one must ponder whether he truly cherishes you, in all your eclectic glory. After all, to love a person is to love not just their shining moments, but also their quirky collections of yesteryears.

In conclusion, should you find yourself forced to choose between your beloved collectibles and a boyfriend with the aesthetic sensibility of a barren wasteland, remember this: these cherished items are like the pages of your own personal history book – unique, irreplaceable, and narrating a story that is entirely yours. Choose wisely, lest you find yourself in a palace devoid of character, ruled by the whims of a minimalist despot.

Yours,

Ardyn

Chancellor of Heart's Dilemmas

[agonyauntardyn]

Dear Ardyn,

Happy New Year! As I'm starting this new year, I'm both excited and anxious. I've set some pretty big resolutions for myself - hitting the gym regularly, eating healthier, saving more money, and even starting a side hustle. I'm really determined to make these changes, but I'm also scared I'll lose motivation like I have every other year. I want this year to be different, to really stick to my goals and make a positive change in my life. How can I ensure that my resolutions don't just fall by the wayside by the time February rolls around? Any advice on how to stay committed and make sure I stick to my resolutions?

Sincerely, New Year, New Me

Dear New Year, New Me,

Ah, the delightful masquerade of New Year's resolutions – a charade we all play, convincing ourselves that this year, unlike the last, we shall transform into paragons of virtue and determination. How delightfully delusional!

My advice? Pick one resolution. Like choosing a favorite dagger in a collection of exquisite blades, it’s best to focus your energies singularly. Spreading oneself too thin is akin to expecting a single potion to cure all maladies - both a folly and a fantasy.

Let’s say you choose the gym. Treat it as a visit to the underworld, each rep a dance with daemons, each drop of sweat an offering to the gods of fitness. Find solace in the pain; after all, what is life without a touch of exquisite suffering?

Remember, aiming to change one's entire existence in a single year is like trying to teach a chocobo to recite poetry – ambitious, but ultimately doomed to a whimsical failure. Revel in the dark comedy of it all.

Yours as ever

Ardyn, Maestro of Midnight Resolutions

[agonyauntardyn]

Ah, my dearest readers,

As the curtain falls on another year, riddled with as many twists as one of my elaborate schemes, I extend my wishes for a New Year filled with less agony and more aunt – or at least, less need for my uniquely sardonic advice. May your 2024 be as unpredictable and thrilling as a day in my life, but with fewer daemon attacks and political intrigues, I hope.

Remember, no matter what the New Year brings – be it joy, challenges, or an overzealous octogenarian flirting in the supermarket – I'll be here, quill in hand, ready to dispense advice with the perfect blend of humor and questionable wisdom. Happy New Year, and may your 2024 be as delightful and unexpected as finding a black chocobo in your backyard.

Yours,

Ardyn Izunia, Agony Aunt Extraordinaire

[agonyauntardyn]

Dear Ardyn,

I'm writing to you in a bit of a quandary. My husband, who's in his early 80s, has always been a bit of a flirt, but lately, it's gotten out of hand. He flirts with every woman he meets, regardless of the setting. It could be at the grocery store, during our evening walks, or even at family gatherings. I understand that some light-hearted flirting can be harmless, but it's starting to make me feel disrespected and uncomfortable. It's like he doesn't even consider how his actions affect me. I've tried talking to him about it, but he just laughs it off, saying that I'm being too sensitive and that it's all in good fun. I don't want to seem controlling, but this is really starting to affect our relationship. What should I do?

Sincerely,

Feeling Forgotten

Dear Feeling Forgotten,

Ah, the woes of matrimony where one partner blossoms into a veritable Don Juan in his golden years. How delightfully tragicomic! Your husband, it seems, has decided to embrace the role of the silver-haired Lothario with a gusto that would put even the most ardent of Romeos to shame. But fear not, for I have a solution as cunning as it is amusing.

Firstly, let's address this notion of 'harmless flirtation'. In your husband's mind, he's likely imagining himself as a charming, age-defying heartthrob, bestowing his worldly charm upon the unsuspecting populace. The reality, however, might be closer to a Shakespearean fool unwittingly playing the jester. Might I suggest, as a countermeasure, that you too embark on a bit of innocent flirtation? Flirt outrageously with the postman, the milkman, or even that charming barista at your local café. When your husband inevitably raises his eyebrows in surprise, gently remind him that it's all in good fun, and you're simply following his sterling example.

If subtlety is not your preference, a more theatrical approach could be employed. The next time he launches into his flirtatious escapades, join him! Add to the banter with such zeal and wit that it becomes a performance. This could either result in a mortifying realization on his part, or you both might find a new hobby in tandem teasing of the populace.

Yours,

Ardyn Izunia, Chancellor of Charm and Counsel

[agonyauntardyn]

Bahamut telling Ardyn his fate like

[agonyauntardyn]

[agonyauntardyn]

[agonyauntardyn]

"Dear Ardyn,

My boyfriend and I have a peculiar problem. We both are avid fans of superhero movies, but we support rival characters: he's Team Batman, and I'm Team Superman. Our playful banter has turned into serious debates, and now we can't watch a superhero movie without a mock 'battle' in our living room. It's all in good fun, but our neighbors might think we're a bit too passionate about our heroes. How do we keep our superhero rivalry from escalating into a real-life drama?

Sincerely Yours,

Superhero Showdown"

Dear Superhero Showdown,

Ah, the age-old battle between the Bat and the Kryptonian, a tale as timeless as my own qualms with the Lucian royalty. Firstly, do commend yourselves for keeping the spirit of rivalry alive; it adds a certain zest to life, does it not? However, to prevent your mock battles from turning your living room into a scene reminiscent of Metropolis post-Zod's visit, I propose a solution of theatrical brilliance.

Why not embrace your differences in a grander style? Arrange themed evenings where each of you champions your hero with aplomb. On Batman nights, turn your abode into a mini-Gotham (brooding and dark eye makeup are a must), and on Superman evenings, don a cape and perhaps, attempt to lift something heavier than a remote control. Invite your neighbors to these soirées, turning their bemused curiosity into enthusiastic participation.

Should these events fail to quell the tide of your heroic fervor, consider a truce by exploring the multiverse of other characters. Perhaps find common ground in your mutual disdain for a particularly poorly written villain or an admiration for a lesser-known hero. Remember, in the world of capes and heroes, there are more sides to align with than just the Bat and the Alien.

In conclusion, keep your battles as fictional as the characters you adore, and let not your living room become a casualty of this delightful war. After all, it’s all fun and games until someone has to explain to the landlord why there’s a Batarang embedded in the wall.

Wishing you a heroic resolution,

Ardyn

[agonyauntardyn]

"Dear Ardyn,

I'm in a complicated situation. I've been secretly seeing my girlfriend's mother for a few months. It started as harmless flirting, but now it's turned into something more. I know this is wrong on many levels, but I can't seem to stop. I care about my girlfriend, but I'm drawn to her mother in a way I can't explain. What should I do?

Confused,

John"

Ah, dear John,

You've found yourself in a quandary that even Oedipus would balk at. The situation you describe is less a tangled web and more a Gordian knot of romantic entanglements. It seems you've mistaken the phrase 'keeping it in the family' as romantic advice rather than a genealogical statement.

But fear not, for advice you shall have. Firstly, cease your moonlit rendezvous with the matriarch. Not only is this deceit a heavy chain around your neck, but it's also a one-way ticket to a Shakespearian tragedy. In matters of the heart, honesty, though painful, is the only balm. Come clean to your girlfriend. This revelation will be akin to a bandage being ripped off – best done swiftly.

Prepare yourself for the storm that follows. There's no telling whether you'll be met with the wrath of Zeus or a more forgiving ear. Regardless, remember this: a man who dines at two tables often ends up with indigestion.

Yours in admonition,

Ardyn