#I'm obviously not going to make 'posting more' a new years resolution or anything good god. no

[welcometogrouchland]

Are we journaling for our mental health? To stretch our personal writing muscles? or for a secret third thing??? (brain exorcism)

[scarlet--wiccan]

This is about an old topic, but whatever. One thing I’ve always specifically hated about the Scarlet Witch & Quicksilver book is that to me it seems like a complete rip-off of Darker Than Scarlet (but way worse since it’s more shallow, surface-level, superficial, it’s not willing to take risks and everyone is ridiculously ooc), and it's so obviously a rip-off that it genuinely confuses me that no one’s pointed out the similarities yet:

- About a white man with black hair & a black beard, a thick purple metal costume and a big headpiece who’s a Fantastic Four villain trying to control Wanda because of her status as a Nexus to serve a higher being by at first subtly controlling her life and sewing division between her and the people around her

- Is surrounded by the concept of Nexus beings and Wanda (+ Pietro in SW&Q’s case) being the child/ren of science and magic

- It also includes Wanda turning “evil” and getting more powerful because of that and getting a new design for it (her villain design in Darker Than Scarlet and her Chthon one in SW&Q)

I contemplated not answering this message, but I think it highlights the weird attitude and poor literacy I've been noticing in this fanbase over the last few years, which do go hand-in-hand with the inappropriate conduct I spoke about in this post. I'm not accusing you, the person who sent this, of anything-- but to be honest, I feel like I've been inundated with this kind of take since Scarlet Witch #1, and they're almost always unfounded and incorrect. I'm sorry, but I just think you're wrong, and I think you'd be a lot less miserable if you would approach this run in good faith-- which I believe it deserves, based on Wanda's character treatment-- and gave it a more thoughtful, informed reading.

The comparisons you are making are a big stretch, in my opinion. Immortus and the Wizard have little in common outside of general design elements, and their motives in these stories are not at all the same. Wanda struggling to control the Darkhold's full power is neither logistically nor thematically similar to what she went through in Darker Than Scarlet, nor does it turn her evil in any capacity. And revisiting established lore and recurring motifs with long-running characters is standard practice-- The story told in SW&Q and the last four issues of Scarlet Witch brought up existing concepts, yes, but it expanded on them with new ideas, pitched the twins against new villains, and sought to resolve several long-standing tensions and imbalances.

Whether or not you think the story achieved those goals or executed them well enough is one thing, but calling it a blatant rip-off is just false.

Orlando's dialogue and narration are sometimes difficult to get through, and SW&Q was absolutely rushed. I'm not sure if it was superficial, but it was certainly dissatisfying in many regards-- but I'm actually quite tired of hearing that Wanda, Pietro, or Max were "out of character." I will maintain that their personalities and emotional responses are completely in line with how they've been written over the last twenty years. These relationships are messy by design, and sometimes characters have to go through rough patches to reach the desired resolution. Again, it was rushed, and ending was poorly executed, but I think it makes a lot more sense if you read it and Scarlet Witch (2024) as one long piece intead of two separate stories.

I'm not trying to be harsh or talk down to you. Everybody is entitled to their own opinions, and I'm not writing rave reviews, either. But I have found, time and time again, that most of the criticisms directed towards this run are poorly founded, and even more poorly delivered. I see emotional, incendiary reactions and out of hand dismissals far more often than genuine, honest critique of either the story or the technique with which it is told.

[theresa-of-liechtenstein]

last rehearsalpost of the night i swear this gets its own separate post for Reasons . it needs to get out of my head

i ended up staying late afterward to clarify some bowings with the ethnomusicology grad student and ate honorsprofessor was impatiently waiting for me to finish. and as the grad student was copying bowings over, ate honorsprofessor asked me 'any grad school news?' with tita conductor standing feet away and not doing a very good job at not eavesdropping.

i know i made the resolution to be more normal about tita conductor but... the thing is, tita conductor's reactions around my impending graduation have always seemed. disproportionately strong to the role i have played in orchestra. or at least, it was last year when i had effectively only attended half the year's rehearsals due to some time conflict or other every term. she introduced me to her husband as a first year, i gently corrected her that i was a third year, and i swear the woman turned back to me with the most horrified look on her face. i won't forget that, nor the way she said 'but why didn't you come to us sooner?' with her voice all small and her face kind of pained, or the way she looked a little disquieted when i said it was because i hadn't been confident enough in my playing as a second year to go for an audition. i mean it wasn't like she hadn't had a glass of wine in her hand a few minutes earlier, and she had spent time during the concert publicly acknowledging the graduation or departure of all her string principals, a wind principal, and brass principals, so obviously that must have been heavy on her mind. but then at my re-audition she said 'you're a second year?' to which i had to correct her, again, and let her know i was a whole two years older than her mental image of me.

and when i talked to tita conductor one-on-one for the first time last year, really talked for the first time, nothing to do with printouts or administration or schedule conflicts—when i explained what had happened and told her i felt safe—i also did ask if i could continue in the orchestra if i chose to go to grad school at my home institution. i made it clear that i wasn't going to make any promises i couldn't keep, but she also made it clear that i would have a place in orchestra should i make that choice. 'i will fight for my students,' she said, and i believed her, and believe her still.

but i didn't make any promises to her that night, and she knows i will be graduating in june. that impending fact is something that she is sensitive about, and...based on our recent interactions outside her always smiling at me for no discernible reason during rehearsals and bestowing praise on the section, i can't help but feel that she's preparing herself for that. what she doesn't know, but what ate honorsprofessor does, is that i interviewed with a potential supervisor here who is supportive of me continuing in orchestra, and that i have a good chance with her, and that she'll likely recommend me for admission, and that i'm only waiting for the graduate division's decision.

i knew i had to be careful, so all i said was 'i haven't got any word yet.'

i think more than anything in this process, i look forward in the hope of telling tita conductor i'm staying. i don't care if i keep my position—i was always happy playing in the section, it didn't matter where i was sitting if only i was just able to play with everyone, and i think it’s right for the music majors to take the lead esp since they will be fourth years—but honestly i just want to see the look on her face when i tell her. like here's how i can make up for not being brave enough two years ago. maybe that can ease the utang na loob i owe you for giving me back the joy of being in an ensemble.

[rainbowvamp]

okay. wait.

C: "What I need is for him to be nowhere near me and the precious, peaceful, fragile existence that I have carved out for myself here." A: "I thought we carved it out for ourselves." C: "So did I!"

and at the beginning Crowley says that he's not really talking to "[his] contact in the bookshop" when he's talking to Shax. **

This feels like there was an offscreen fight. But I don't remember it. Did I miss it? Am I an idiot?

And you know what else? it is weird that Crowley was living in his car when he had a perfectly good angel boyfriend who could've fixed that. even if they couldn't live together for heaven vs hell reasons, he's giving Maggie her shop rent free for several months and not hurting about it. so why doesn't he help Crowley? like, if your bestie is living in their car, you let them crash on your couch unless you're a giant asshole or they're a giant asshole. so what's that about?

I'll be the first to admit that my ADHD means that I sometimes miss things, but did I miss something? I can't think of a place where I missed something. This is my second rewatch. What is going on? There was so much other STUFF happening, I literally glossed over this on my first watch other than going 'huh that's weird' a couple different times.

I'm not going to post this until I rewatch and I am LOOKING for what the fuck they fought about.

Edit: (post rewatch through 2.2)

You know what? I'm mad. I'm mad.

Crowley is mad because he thought there might be some escalation of their relationship now that they have both been "dismissed" from their duties. That's why he's pissed. There's no fucking fight. It's the emotional conflict of two people who are in different places. That's what they're not talking about. Because Crowley and Azariphale have a deeply emotional relationship. They obviously care about each other. But there's a specific kind of care that they don't allow themselves, that Crowley maybe thought they might be allowed now, but it's never come. Azariphale keeps holding back. Azariphale calls the Bentley "our car" and the bookshop "our bookshop" but Crowley is living in that car (HIS PLANTS are living in the car. You can't find space for some fucking plants Aziriphale?) and let's Aziriphale drive off in it anyway because he loves* him so much and Azariphale apparently owns the whole block and can't find Crowley a couch to crash on? Really???

And that's because I know Aziriphale cares for Crowley. he's directly motivated by trying to keep Crowley safe/nearby on multiple occasions. So what the fuck is this???? Like, commitment-phobia? Is this still "you move too fast for me, Crowley"? Maybe it's not fair of me to be dismissive of Aziriphales feelings like this. Crowley has been "on his own side" forever, and Aziriphale, while he does say he's on "our side", actually still sees heaven (his former cult) as the good guys. The right side. He never let go of that. And so he's reluctant to jump into anything because 1) dangerous to both of them, and 2) new things make him uncomfortable and he's resistant to change. In Aziraphale's mind, the relationship they have right now is working. It's worked for 6000 years. Why do they need to go and change it when he's so happy? He's so comfy. Everything is so good! But that's selfish. (Selfish angel lol) Because Crowley doesn't want things to stay the same. Crowley hasn't wanted things to stay the same since "let's run away together" and maybe it's not fair of Crowley to want more than Aziraphale is willing to give. Or maybe it is. I don't know. I don't know. Neil is making me feel big feelings and I'm going to have to go watch Sandman 1.6 to make myself feel better after this. Give myself some fucking resolution to tragic centuries long romance arcs. fuck.

*I don't know if love is the right word here. Not that I doubt that he loves Aziraphale. They absolutely love each other. But this word doesn't quite feel right and I'm so angry that I don't have the energy to go and look at the scene again to see if I can find a better word for it.

** I think he might be saying this to protect Aziraphale. I'm not willing to go back and look again. Once again, I need a Sandman 1.6 rewatch to wash the taste of this anguish out of my soul.

[void-botanist]

My Year of Writing

After reading @theskeletonprior's review, I thought I would write one of my own. Original prompt by @maguayans (whose blog theme on desktop is excellent for writeblr and might be something I borrow).

Part 1: Spotify Wrapped version

This year was all about The Fourth Android and bringing it from a half-baked rewrite of an older story to something edible. To that end, I wrote 158,587 words:

30,000 for Camp NaNo in April

30,209 for Camp NaNo in July

50,363 for NaNo 2022, plus

18,013 for a May goal and

30,002 for a June goal.

I archived a lot of those words as I iterated, though, and my current draft is sitting at 43,278 words right now.

Obviously Dez was on my mind the whole time but I also invented a ton of new characters as I fleshed out species concepts and the cultural geography of the world. I also frequently got distracted with other stories in this world and started writing extra scenes about characters who had captured my attention, several of whom are on Dez's future space crew.

My Spotify Wrapped was boring. It pretty much just said "hey you got real into pop this year. We probably classed all the 80s rock and 00s indie you listened to as 'nostalgia', which is silly. Also you still listen to a ton of Approaching Nirvana, like you're in the top 0.5% of listeners". If you want my recommendations, go listen to Wreck of the Day (the song or the album or both) by Anna Nalick, and literally anything by Approaching Nirvana (but I have probably listened to the albums Cinematic Soundscapes Vol. 1 and Illusions the most). Also go (re)appreciate that 38 Special and Fitz and the Tantrums are bands that exist.

Part 2: A More Detailed Review

General

This year I continued working toward improvement, in both my writing and art.

With writing, that looked like getting more invested in planning and analyzing my own work. I finally accepted that the typical plot charts I find don't make sense to me when I try to use them, and not because I'm trying to make my stories Special (TM). Something just doesn't connect for me, and that's okay. That's not the only way to get plot structure. Instead I spent a while figuring out how to use Scrivener to outline in a way that works for me. I also tried to apply my own media analyses and those of YouTubers like Princess Weekes, La'Ron Readus, Jessie Gender, NerdSync, and James Somerton to my own work, to consider what works and what might not.

With art, that looked like learning more tools and tricks in Clip Studio Paint and Procreate, changing my settings to help me not mess up my arm constantly (adjusting my pressure curve!), and drawing at a higher resolution. I cannot stress enough how much of a difference that has made in the way my work looks and how it feels to edit it. I tend to draw small, so I'd never thought about it much, but wow everything is so smooth now. I've also been working on accepting that the imperfections in my work don't make it bad, and that being a slow and indecisive artist is also fine. angrymikko, Nadiaxel, and Chroma Moma on YouTube have been super helpful to me as I try new styles and ways of working and just having fun with my art. ronillust also makes delightful art memes and some tutorials.

P.S. if you're on desktop and you despise the format of YouTube's Shorts page, you can play Shorts as regular videos by changing the "shorts" portion of the URL to "watch". You can also set up Redirector to do this automatically (I wrote a tutorial for this on my main blog).

Writeblr

I was so much more active on writeblr this year, especially during the last few months. I followed a ton of other writers (I won't list them all here but I've been trying to reblog from them to make sure people are also aware of them) and started posting some excerpts of my own work and participating in ask/tag games. I'm having a very good time so far. Please feel free to tag me liberally in future games and prompts!

WIPs

I started working on The Fourth Android after I lost NaNoWriMo 2021, where I was working on Triad and I ran out of steam after about 28k words. On the last day of NaNo I just sprinted some stuff about Zel and Anni and a fledgling form of TFA in which Zel is a journalist and Anni teams up with her to locate Dez, who has absconded over some misunderstanding. Then I thought, what if I just worked on this? So I did. Triad is still going to happen, but it needs a lot of restructuring to work properly.

As always, my writing went from high angst to low angst as I developed that first TFA concept further, which I think speaks to how I just like stories about people being friends. Which is, you know, a pretty broad qualifier, but I find that even in stories with high stakes and high drama the thing I find most delightful is friendship dynamics (can you tell I'm thinking about Hunter x Hunter as I write this? I got kinda into that too). A lot of my thinking about character arcs has been related to "how is this friendship interesting?" and the cultural worldbuilding I've been doing is going to help me explore some of those dynamics. (This also applies to romantic couples, not least because friends to lovers is the only thing that seems to work for me in my writing.)

Books and Other Things I Consumed

I read a fair bit this year, especially compared to the last couple years (I'm actually pretty proud of this because I read maybe 2 books in all of 2019 and 2020 and only got back into reading last year). Like Harrowben, I've starred my favorites.

*The Expanse series 4-7 by James S. A. Corey (4, Cibola Burn, was a particular favorite just because I love stories set on alien planets. Overall I think The Expanse could use more theys and gays, but I'm pretty happy with it)

I, Robot by Isaac Asimov (I enjoyed how clever this one was, and also it has robots. For some strange reason I have become incredibly interested in robot stories)

Artemis by Andy Weir (honestly I think about this one a lot. I think it had some of Weir's character writing flaws as seen in The Martian but the worldbuilding was pretty compelling and I'm a sucker for epistolary bits)

*Fearless by Shira Glassman (a wonderful quick read about snowstorms and lesbian moms. I also bought several of Shira's other books but haven't read them yet)

*Iron Widow by Xiran Jay Zhao (I rarely buy books in physical form anymore but I did buy this one after I read it. Superb. Waiting for the sequel)

Light from Uncommon Stars by Ryka Aoki (I enjoyed this one a lot. I can definitely understand the criticisms, and the formatting was kinda weird. But on some level I felt like I was reading something that was in my own genre)

Currently reading

The Perfect Crimes of Marian Hayes by Cat Sebastian (the sequel to The Queer Principles of Kit Webb. It's just a super fun read)

Finlay Donovan Knocks 'Em Dead by Elle Cosimano (the sequel to Finlay Donovan is Killing It. Honestly disappointed in this one, especially compared to the first book. There are some excellent moments but there are also a lot of things that don't really seem to make sense, and I'm very frustrated with the romance part of it)

Tiamat's Wrath (The Expanse book 8) by James S. A. Corey

Books I started and plan to finish (I often put down books because they're not what I want right at that moment)

Xeni by Rebekah Weatherspoon

Mrs. Martin's Incomparable Adventure by Courtney Milan

The Doctor's Discretion by E. E. Ottoman

Children of Time by Adrian Tchaikovsky

Prelude to Foundation by Isaac Asimov

Murmuration by T. J. Klune

I won't list out all the shows I watched but I do think that Hunter x Hunter, Exception (the Netflix anime), Mob Psycho 100, and Cyberpunk: Edgerunners have all influenced the way I think about my writing and to some extent my art (seriously the color and visual storytelling choices of Edgerunners are so interesting and cool). In video games, the environment design of Hades, Risk of Rain 2's Survivors of the Void expansion, and Slime Rancher 2 really fascinated me, and I spent a ton of time using Sims 4 to build places that exist in TFA to better visualize them. (I really want a game that is just Sims 4 build mode, but with more detailed building capabilities and endless building space. I just installed Sweet Home 3D, which might do it for me.)

Here's to another year of writeblring and creating. I'd love to hear your thoughts on the stuff I mentioned above (especially Exception if you've seen it), and/or your recommendations for anything but especially cool stories about robots/androids/gays/theys.

[wri0thesley]

I think I told you this before, but you and Haz keep your space so cute and well organized! 😭 I love all the different colors and things to look at in your pictures! I think my New Years resolution will be to finally get around to painting my room from the boring brown it came in to a bright and cheerful pink … do you have any resolutions, aside from wanting to read more books? I’m also thinking about doing the Good Reads challenge but I don’t know what would be a reasonable goal to set!

Also I just did that trope sorter you posted and ope

For someone who claims not to be a monster fucker, that’s ranked awfully high! LMAO Occasionally I still think about the concept of Albedo running experiments on his poor assistant with different Hilichurl types and I immediately need to sit down. All the porn of Hilichurl’s and the characters is not helping my resolve on this matter either lol

I hope you have a lovely New Years, Nat! And may 2023 be a good one for you and yours, with all your wishes fulfilled! I can’t wait to see what next year has in store for us (fingers crossed that it’s something pleasant lmao)

oh, it is almost never that neat anymore fgnbkdjjnkbfg. but we do both love organising tiny things and rearranging shelves, which helps! i deeply miss that sanrio razer keyboard, but we had to switch it out to one that isn't backlit because i type quite hard and obviously often and the letters were starting to wear away! we have a sailor moon themed keyboard now that isn't backlit and handles a pounding better (and a cinnamoroll keyboard to come, somewhere [gestures vaguely]!). i wish you good luck in painting your room, coming home to mine and haz's little pink and yellow house always makes me happy :)

my resolutions are to read more books, to write more (and especially to take some time to write original stuff! i have so many half-plotted half-baked novels and ideas sitting around and every time i read a book i dislike i think 'i should try harder' and every time i read a book i love i think 'i wish this were me), and to try and take some time outside with haz and go on a date at least once a month. that last one is a joint resolution; haz's health is very bad and my mental health is very shaky so having a date night or something to look forward to will hopefully be good for both of us. i'd also like to get better at budgeting, but . . . fgjnkbkjnfgkjn. well.

i'll be setting my goal at 150 books i think! that's something like a book every two to three days, but as someone who regularly currently reads a book a day . . . i think i can manage, as long as i'm spreading out my genres! and there are SO MANY BOOKS OUT THERE. i'd like to make time to review them on goodreads too so i can revisit things i liked and didn't.

i hope you also have a wonderful new year, and that life is good for you, all of your genshin pulls are successful and anything else you could wish for! ;w;

[wildgoose-bnw]

I think I know what I'm doing, but I don't exactly know why...

I took on a little personal project this last week, thinking about print making and I figured I'd tackle matt making. Cutting the borders for images I've printed and want to frame. Although I don't know why I'd do this as there's only a limited amount of space at home to hang anything that might be considered a fair return on the investment. But I am driven by enthusiasm for such projects, and sometimes they become a bit unstoppable. Rationality certainly tends not to be an adequate brake. And there's only a limited amount of patience my partner might have for such an enterprise; this is our home, not Gallery Wildgoose.

So why am I doing this?

That's a good question: my work has obviously turned a corner recently. I'm of an age where it needed to, and I think moving to the west country has driven this particular nail home. I've changed my camera systems to one that gives me more resolution, and the other that gives me a much better user experience, I've dragged out my old Canon A3+ printer and after what must be ten years was astounded that it still turns out gorgeous prints. I've been shooting more and more black and white, and I've even been shooting upright after years of refusing to accept this as normal behaviour. I am on the brink of going square format, but I am ambivalent about black and white. I think it's subject dependent. There's a puritanism in me that can blinker creativity. I tend to want to maintain a particular set of rules within which I create work. I don't think this is healthy. I need to trust my instinct as, after half a century of taking pictures, the way I work and the way I make images is pretty well embedded (and I am not saying it's good or bad, I'd never dare judge that), so any changes I make are mere tinkerings on the edge of what I do.

But significant is the physical format, and this has come about because of the printing. Up until now, all my personal work has been limited to digital and on line. But I've found that now I am printing, that dynamic has changed. Looking at an A3 print is an entirely different experience, and as such demands a different approach when considering what to photograph and how it's composed. Scale has become an issue that needs addressing. I'm thinking that the landscapes I've been shooting lately really need to be seen bigger when I'm composing. I was listening to Jem Southam talk about how much he loves the big screen on his field camera and it got me thinking about how hard it is being very intentional about composition when all you have is this tiny little lcd screen on the back of the camera, or the even smaller viewfinder to peep through.

I'm still on a very steep learning curve trying to find my voice with this new photography, but I am reaching the point where I'm thinking 'where's the audience?'. I can't just do this like Vivian Maier; I need the oxygen of validation, terrible as that is, I simply can't work solely for the satisfaction of producing an image that only I see, this is why I post to Instagram, LinkedIn and Facebook: I need the validation. Once I was paid as validation, but now it seems the rules have changed, and I'm now working to a new set that I don't fully understand, don't know how to navigate. I need some help, which is a strange thing to say after half a century of working.

[donutloverxo]

Good little girl

*gif is not mine*

Note - Requested by @holacia2 and a part two to good little wife. And special thanks to @gotnofucks for all her help! I'm so overwhelmed with all the love that fic got I hope y'all like this little follow up as well❤❤

Dividers by @firefly-graphics.

Summary - Married life isn't always easy. Will you be able to solve your problems?

Warnings - 18+ only explicit sexual content, younger woman/older man, daddy kink, soft dark!Andy, SO MUCH MISOGYNY, housewife kink, innocence kink, (accusations of) cheating, arranged/forced marriage, spanking, possessive Andy.

Pairing - Mob!Andy Barber x reader

Word count - 4.9k

Masterlist is linked in the bio and the pinned post!

You handed your mother the brownies you had baked, she thanked you, telling you how it was so unnecessary, before Andy placed the wine you had gotten on the way over on the kitchen counter.

“Why don’t you go keep your father in law company, Andrew?” your mom told him. He only nodded before making way to his boss.

“So? How are things going with him?” she asked. “You are positively glowing honey! Do you have any good news yet?”

“Mom!” you gasped.

Over the past seven months you had only seen your mother a handful of times. You were still a bit upset with her for marrying you off to an older man you barely knew, a man who you thought despised you so much he refused to even touch you.

You knew she didn’t really have a say in it. Your father never really valued her opinion, there was no way she would’ve been able to stop it but she hadn’t even so much as tried.

“No, I don’t. And I won’t any time soon,” you huffed.

While being a mother was something you’d like to experience someday, you didn’t know if you were quite ready for it yet. Which was good because Andy didn’t want kids for the next few years either, he had taken you to a doctor to get you on birth control as soon as the holidays were over.

He stated that he wasn’t ready to share you just yet. That he wasn’t sure he wants his kids to be a part of the mob, which you didn’t want either.

“Oh, but you have to, cookie. I need a distraction. Being a mom is all I’ve ever known and ever since you left the house has been so empty.”

“Well, what about daddy?” you frowned. He had never really liked spending time with your siblings or your mother, but to leave her be on her own like that.

“He’s always with Charlotte,” she rolled her eyes. “I would’ve been fine with it, he’s always been like that, can’t expect him to change now, but he brought her here, now, to a family dinner.” She sighed in resignation.

You had heard a familiar high pitched annoying laugh upon coming home, but you thought that to be one of your brothers floozies.

Charlotte, or Cherry, used to be a good friend of yours in college. Before you brought her home for the holidays of your freshman year and she decided to shack up with your married father, who was almost thrice her age. You lost touch with her after that.

“I’m telling you, honey, a kid is a good way of securing your marriage and starting a family. You are young now... but you will grow old someday. Andrew’s a good man... but he is still a man at the end of the day.”

You scoffed at that, “I won’t have you talking that way about my husband! We are already a family, we’re in love each other and he’s nothing like dad.”

She gave you a teary smile, “Young love--is just so innocent and beautiful. You always see the best in people, cookie. I hope I’m wrong about this. Any man would be an idiot to not appreciate you.”

“Andy does appreciate me. And take good care of me, ma...” you trailed off.

He did take good care of you. After the night you consummated your marriage he brought you breakfast in bed. He hadn’t kept his hands off of you for the past few weeks, doting on you any chance he could get, telling you he loved you every chance he got.

But you wondered... did he love you?

The kind of love you’d only ever read about in classical novels. The kind of love you’d dreamt of having ever since you could remember, the kind you thought you once had with someone, but didn’t. You didn’t love Alex the way you love Andy. You were in love with the idea of Alex. You knew Andy now. You knew how kind, passionate and fierce he was, your love for him consumed every single part of you. Where you would literally die for him.

But did he love you for you. Or was he just lonely because it was Christmas. You had avoided taking the tree and the decorations down, begging him, even dropping to your knees and making love to him with your mouth, you didn’t know much but Cherry had taught you that you could get men to do anything for you just by kneeling before them.

While he was very obviously pleased with your passion, returning the favor tenfold, till your thighs burned from his bread and you were shouting for him to stop, he still took the decorations down. He said he wanted to start anew this year. He made a resolution to be the best husband he could.

But you were going to protect your heart this time, hope for the best but still prepare for the worst.

Unfortunately, you had been seated next to Cherry. You found out that your father was living with her now and that while she had hoped he’d leave his wife for her there, but apparently there was no such luck.

“They never leave their wives do they,” she shook her head. “Oh I’m sorry! I shouldn’t be saying these things to you...”

“Its alright,” you shrugged. It would be hard to see your mother be unhappy but there was never any love between your parents. Your mother had learned to live without him and find happiness in other things, and other people, she was just a bit more sneaky about it.

“Well...” you hesitated “how do you keep a man?”

“What kind of question is that?” she giggled. “There are many ways to keep a man but you’ll have to be a bit more specific...”

You ended up changing the subject. The kind of questions you wanted to ask were not suitable for the dinner table, and you didn’t like the way Andy was staring daggers at the pair of you, almost displeased with the two of you chatting.

***

You smiled at him from the passenger seat when he put his hand on your knee, giving it a light squeeze. He had been quite the whole ride home so you decided to speak first.

“Can’t believe Cherry’s like my... step mom.” You laughed out loud at such a ridiculous notion.

“Step mom?” he furrowed his brows, turning his head to look at you.

“Oh I’m just joking,” you waved him off. “Dad would never leave my ma. He’ll move on to another one soon enough.”

He hummed, nodding, “Alright. I was just worried she was troubling you at dinner.”

“What would you have done if she was? Would you swop in like a knight in shining armor and save me from the big meanie?”

“You know I would,” he smiled.

You had asked for a piggy back ride from Andy from the garage to your home, he rolled his eyes and tried to say no but then gave in when you used your princess eyes on him.

He placed you on top of your bed, kissing the tip of your nose, he started unbuttoning his shirt to get ready for bed.

“Andy... um... Daddy?” you corrected yourself instantly.

He liked you addressing him as that whenever you both were alone, he had warned you that you would receive a punishment if you ever failed to comply.

You didn’t know what his punishment would be and you didn’t plan on finding out anytime soon. You’d withhold all affection from him if he ever dared take away the platinum card from you, or lower your allowance as your father had told him to at the dinner, ‘to tame you' supposedly.

But that wasn’t a very good plan... what if he just looked for love elsewhere.

“What is it, honey?” he asked.

“Um... do you think... you would ever take a mistress?” you gulped and prepared yourself for his answer.

“I wouldn’t...” you sighed in relief, “one woman is enough trouble.” he said flatly.

“Daddy!!” you whined, stomping your foot on the floor and folding your hands over your chest.

And he had the audacity to laugh. His laughter at your expense only fuelled your anger. “Do you want to sleep on the couch tonight?”

He finally stopped laughing, “Look at you being a big girl,” he tried to pinch your cheek but you swatted his hand away. “You don’t wanna be daddy’s little girl anymore?” he pouted.

“No... no I do!” you answered all too eager. “I’m sorry...”

“I’m sorry too, honey. I shouldn’t be making fun of you.”

“No, you shouldn’t,” you hugged his hard stomach, rubbing your cheek against his undershirt. “It’s mean, and you promised not to be mean to me.”

“I was just teasing,” he cooed, stroking your hair. And while you knew that and secretly enjoyed it even, you still wanted a serious answer out of him.

“I intend to keep my vows forever. There is just no way I could ever want anyone who’s not you.”

“Really?” you propped your chin on his abdomen, looking up at him through your lashes.

“Promise.”

***

“Um... I’m here to see Andy,” you told the lady sitting outside of, what you had been told was Andy’s office, you assumed her to be his secretary Erica.

You always packed a lunchbox for Andy, always remembering to leave a sweet note for him and he would always call you to thank you for it. You also made sure to have dinner ready before he got home on the nights he wasn’t taking you out on the town. It was just your duty as a good wife.

But Andy had been working way too much the past couple of weeks. Where he would be gone before you wake up and be back when you were already in bed. You knew his job was demanding, working for your father and being a partner in a law firm, the job was like a mistress, stealing your man away...

So you simply decided to make his favorite, food pack it up and come to him to eat it together.

“Mrs Barber! It’s so nice to meet you. I’ve heard so much about you,” she gave you a toothy smile, shaking your hand.

You would’ve been happy, elated that Andy talks so much about you at work. If you hadn’t smelled her perfume. So familiar... you couldn’t quite place it at first but then you remembered.

The night you had slaved away, hoping to profess your love to your husband, when he had rejected you and smelled of chanel.

“That’s a nice scent...” you wondered out loud.

“Oh thank you! I love it as well,” she said, taking in a whiff of the inside of her wrist. “It’s the new chanel one!”

“Hmm....”

You almost didn’t hear Andy calling for you. “What a nice surprise.” He kissed your cheek.

You set the food before him, thinking of telling him what was on your mind.

Was he really so cliché to have an affair with his secretary?

Could you really blame him though? Although you had been married for almost seven months, you were strangers living under the same roof for the majority of them. He wasn’t really cheating... but what if he was still doing it?

“Honey,” he shook you to get your attention. “What’s up with you today? I have a meeting in a few minutes.”

“You’re always working.” You complained.

“Well...” he grinned, grabbing at your thighs and pulling you on his lap, “I have to. If I had the choice I would never come into work, I would stay home forever, between your legs, right... here,” he snaked a hand up your leg and stroked the inside of your thigh. “You would like that wouldn’t you?”

You nodded, “I’ve been so lonely without you.”

He hummed, biting the shell of your ear before speaking into it, “I know, honey. I miss you too. But you do still remember the number one rule right?”

“Yes, daddy. Never touch myself without your permission.”

“And why is that?”

You whined, to embarrassed to say the words, “Because... it’s your... pussy.” You replied in a small shy voice.

“That’s right, sweetheart. It’s mine to do whatever I want with,” he cupped your mould, just to demonstrate what he meant but then frowned when he felt your soft curls and wet slick against his palm.

“You’re not wearing any panties, sweetheart.” He noted, surprised to your boldness.

“Um... I must’ve forgot.”

So maybe you had ulterior motives behind coming here. Your body was used to be doted on everyday now, and to not have his touch for so long was agonising. You had hoped to maybe bend down to pick up a napkin that fell ever so conveniently and flash him, it would work, he would be driven mad.

“Forgot huh?” You nodded in reply as he gathered your slick in his fingers, tracing your labia with them. “That’s too bad, If you had left them on purpose I would’ve cancelled my meeting and fucked you right here. But since it was just an innocent mistake I wouldn’t do that,” he retreated his hand, placing a soft kiss on your hair. “Thanks for lunch.”

***

You were determined to prove your worth to Andy. If he did have a mistress, whether it be his secretary or any other woman, he would forget all about her when he saw how you could do everything for him.

You had went all out today, baking a pie and a four course meal from scratch, lighting up candles, the pink babydoll that Andy had gifted you was under your dress.

He was as always exhausted when he got home, his face visibly lighting up upon seeing you, you took his hand in yours taking him to the couch and making him a glass of whiskey, you handed it to him before kneeling on the soft rug.

“You work so hard, daddy,” you murmured as your fingers worked on unzipping his pants.

He looked at you in confusion, shaking his head, “You don’t have to do that, honey,” cupping your cheek in his plan, stroking your cheekbone with his thumb.

“But I want to make you feel good,” you blinked at him.

He groaned, unable to say no when you looked so willing to please him, but at the same time he wanted to do more with you. To cuddle and watch a movie and talk, it felt as if he hadn’t in ages.

“Very well,” he nodded.

With the green signal from him, you licked your lips, tasting some of your minty gloss, taking his length out of the confines of his underwear, you took a minute to simply marvel at the sheer size and beauty of it.

You licked a stripe up the underside of it, suckling at the crown, you remembered that he liked that the best, at least from the way he twisted his hand in your hair, pulling at it till it caused a slight burn to your scalp.

You slurped his precum up before he pushed his hips up till his tip hit the back of your throat, causing you to gag around him, didn’t take him long to come down your throat.

His neck and cheek covered in a crimson blush, his chest heaving as he threw his head back against the couch.

“You did good, honey...” he rasped. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”

He absolutely loved the dinner you had made for him. But when you subtly, because you were raised to be a good lady and wife, tried to coax him to make love to you before bed, he.... rejected you.

Sure, he was kind about it. He told you he was simply tired and would make it up to you. But it was still shocking how a man as insatiable as him would ever say no. You truly didn’t know what to make of it.

***

“Oh... I don’t know about this... it’s a bit too bold for me,” you bit your lip.

“Just try it on! You might end up liking it!” Cherry urged you, putting the bright red lipstick on you without waiting for an answer, “There is nothing more classic than a red lip. Or a red anything. Men go crazy for it.” She told you.

You simply hummed through closed lips as she put some finishing touches on it. “Doesn’t that look nice?” she asked, holding up a mirror before you.

You smiled, it did look different. Maybe different was what you needed. “It’s very pretty. It makes me feel... confident?” Which was strange. Because how could a simple lipstick make you feel confident?

“See! I told you. Confidence is the key to sexiness. Now, let’s talk lingerie.”

***

“Honey, I’ve been waiting for over fifteen minutes,” you heard Andy call out to you from the bedroom.

“Just a minute,” you said, perfecting your edges with a lip brush.

This was something you had never done before. You wore a lot of lingerie for Andy, but most of them were cute pastels or white nighties or babydolls. Nothing like what you were wearing right now...

A sheer black lacy body suit that clung to your body, leaving literally nothing to the imagination.

Top that off with your red lip... you looked like some kind of dominatrix. Cherry told you that most men secretly wish to be dominated. Although you highly doubted your daddy would want anything like that. Or would he?

“Alright, I’m coming out,” you announced, before shyly stepping out, your eyes trained on the floor as you twiddled with your fingers to maybe distract you from your nerves. “What do you think?”

He was speechless. His jaw almost dropping on the floor when he saw you like that. So far from his sweet girl. You were just as much beautiful and sexy, and while it wasn’t something he was used or prefer to he would welcome it if it was what you wanted.

He extended an arm to you, ready to tell you that you were sexy, that he wanted to spend hours worshipping every inch of your body, that he wanted his cock stained the shade of red you wore on your lips, that he was ready to make up for being away for weeks.

Until he saw... that.

He lowly growled your name, making your head snap up to look at him, “What did you do to your pussy?” Because from what he could see, through the sheer material, there was nothing where your pubic hair used to be.

“Uh... I uh... waxed it...” From the tone of his voice you could tell that he wasn’t too happy about it. “Do you not like it?”

“Like?” he scoffed, shaking his head. Taking a seat on the bedding, “C'mere, let me take a closer look.”

Hesitantly, you walked the few strides it took till you were standing before him.

He studied your mould, trying to take the fabric off so he could see it more properly and then tutting when he couldn’t even open the stupid thing.

“Wait, it um... opens here I think,” you interrupted his scrutiny, undoing the zipper that was on your side and taking the suit off of you.

He sighed in resignation when he saw what you had done, making you regret your ever spending so much money and going through all that pain.

He parted your lips apart, running his fingers along your vulva, acquainting himself with this new strange feel of you, “When did do this?” his blue eyes looked up at you.

“Just a couple of days ago. It’s just hair... it’ll grow back in like three weeks.”

“Three weeks?” he scoffed.

You could feel your eyes getting misty. You tried to go all out for him, to please him, be completely naked and vulnerable before him, only to have him get angry at you.

“You don’t like it,” you sniffled.

His furrowed brow softened when he saw you crying, pulling you down till you were straddling his lap, “The question isn’t whether I like it or not,” he explained, his thumb wiping your wet cheeks, “I could... maybe live with it. But I wouldn’t prefer it.”

“Okay,” you nodded.

“But for you to have done this,” he touched your newly waxed skin and almost winced at the smoothness, “You must’ve let someone else see you naked. See what belongs to me.”

“Bu - but they were all women...” you stammered, squirming in his lap as his fingers toyed with your clit.

“It doesn’t matter,” he tutted, pushing two fingers inside you, “Only I get to see you. This is MY pussy. Only I get to decide what to do with it. Do you understand?”

You nodded, holding onto his tshirt as he twisted his fingers inside you. “So-sorry, daddy.”

“No, honey, since you were bad you don’t get to call me daddy. For tonight you will address me as sir. And of course you’ll have to be punished.”

“Punished?” you pouted. “Can’t you just let me go since it was my first strike? I’ll be good from now on I promise!”

“No, you have to learn your lesson. Come on,” you yelped as he manhandled you so you were face down across his lap, “What is your safe word?”

“Unicorns” you giggled. You thought you were so witty for coming up with it. Since he for some reason was jealous of your unicorn stuffie.

He hummed, stroking the soft skin of your butt, “How does twenty sound?”

Your eyes went wide as you gasped, looking at him over your shoulder, “No!” you said.

He didn’t really plan on spanking you... did he? He liked swatting your ass here and there, and truth be told you liked it too. But you had never been spanked or even hit as a punishment.

“Well, if not this then maybe we can make you go a week without cumming.”

Your gasp was louder and even more incredulous this time. You could most definitely take twenty swats, but just the thought of not being able to finish, after knowing what an orgasm with Andy feels like, made you shiver.

“You will count each one, and then thank me for it. You are grateful I’m teaching you, aren’t you?”

“Yes, sir,” you nodded.

“Do you know how to count to twenty? Or would I have to teach you that too?” he asked ever so condescendingly as you huffed.

“Of course I do! I was just two semesters away from graduating college!” Never mind that you learned that in kindergarten.

“That’s good. Are you ready?” he asked, cracking his knuckles as he got in position.

With a nod from you he delivered the first slap to your right buttcheek, the sound of it reverberating in the room, his palm stinging slightly as he stroked the skin he had just punished, it was already warmer.

“One, sir. Thank you, sir,” you held onto a moan, it wasn’t half as bad as you thought it would be...

You jerked forward as he unceremoniously hit your other cheek, since you were unprepared for it, and he was much more brutal.

“Tw-two, sir,” you sniffled.

You considered throwing in the towel and saying your safe word by the time fifteen rolled around. Your behind was on fire, while you couldn’t see it, you just knew it was bruised. But you wanted to be good for Andy and it was wrong of you to do something that drastic without his permission.

“Sixteen...” you hiccupped. You could feel your slick running down your thighs but at this point... you just couldn’t bring yourself to care.

“Do you want a break?” he asked, taking pity on you.

You nodded frantically, “Yes please! Can you... can you touch me? Down there?” Since the pain in your throbbing pussy was unbearable. If you didn’t receive any attention, you might actually burst.

“Down where? Here?” He had the audacity to play down, while you were suffering, and touch the back of your knee to patronise you.

“No!” you whined.

“Well then you’ll have to be a bit more specific, princess.”

“In my... between my legs... my pussy...”

“Are you sure you deserve it though?” he asked.

You thought about it for a moment, before coming to the conclusion that, “No I don’t. Not until I finish my punishment.”

“That’s a good girl,” he praised, his hand massaging your raw ass as your heart swelled in pride.

“Nineteen, sir,” your mind was hazy. It didn’t even feel as if you were in your reality anymore... it was as if you were floating, while you could still hear and feel him spanking you, for some reason it wasn’t as painful anymore.

“The last one, doll, hang in there,” he said before delivering the last swat.

You whimpered, “Twenty, thank you, sir,” willing your nose with the back of your hand.

Andy collected your weak form in his big string arms, rocking you back and forth in his lap as he kept whispering soft praises in your hair, “My sweet beautiful doll,” he pecked you on your lips.

“Sorry about your pants, daddy...” you said when you realised what a wet mess you had made on him.

He shushed you, “Don’t you worry about that right now. Do you want to take a bath?”

You pouted, your red lip jutting out, “No.”

He chuckled, kissing your forehead, “Do you want daddy to fuck you?”

“Yes,” you nodded.

“We have to be careful about your butt, baby,” he said as he gently placed you on the mattress.

Your head on your pillow, besides your two most trusted stuffies--your unicorn and teddy. Andy only allowed you two in the bed after complaining they made it hard for him to cuddle you. You demanded he buy you a shelf to display them or you would go back to your old room. Which of course made him comply instantly.

You made grabby hands at him, impatient to have him closer to you, but then were glad he took the time to take off his tshirt so you could ogle the wide expanse of his chest, the light scattering of fuzzy hair over it, his numerous tattoos along with one of your name, which marked him as yours forever.

He took a hardened nipple in his mouth while his hand tweaked the other, nudging your legs apart to make room for him, he placed his length at your entrance.

Slowly pushing into you, letting you get accustomed to the size of him. Although your pussy was always so welcoming to him, he knew you often struggled to take him.

You whimpered at him, tears rolling off of your face. “What’s wrong, honey? Does it hurt?”

“No... it’s just so good,” you sniffled.

“Okay, just hold on,” you held onto his shoulders as he slowly fucked in to you.

Your pussy clamping around his length, the soles of your feet digging into his ass, “Can I come, daddy?”

“Of course, baby. You earned it.” He groaned, his hips hammering against yours as you bit his neck, letting out a muffled scream.

You hummed against his neck when you felt his warm release fill you up, he pulled out of you, frowning when he looked at your naked and hairless pussy, dripping with his cum.

“From now on I’ll be picking out your clothes,” he stated, rolling off of you and pulling you into his arms.

“Okay, daddy,” you hummed.

“And no more surprise bikini waxes.”

“Mmm...” If that’s what you had to do to get in trouble and be punished, then so be it. “We’ll see.”

***

Three days later

“Lotion time, doll,” Andy said, pausing the movie you were both watching to go get said lotion.

He had rubbed your lotion on your backside when he spanked you and decided that he wanted to be the one putting your body lotion on you from now on since he had too much fun doing it. He insisted on doing it twice everyday since it was still very cold.

You followed him to the bedroom, lying face down on the bed a he squeezed some on his palms, rubbing them together to warm them up.

You winced just a little, your skin still a bit sensitive, you even had to sit on a pillow the time.

“Will you be going back to work tomorrow?” you wanted to know.

He didn’t like the sadness in your voice, “Yes,” he sighed. He hated leaving you all by yourself.

“I’ll be all alone then.”

“Didn’t you want to go back to college?” He remembered you telling him that your parents forced you to drop out so that you would marry him.

“I do actually. Hate leaving things incomplete... maybe I can even go to a law school and become a lawyer like you!” you perked up.

“You’re not working for your father though, you’re too good for that world.”

“You’re too good for him too.” You said. “Maybe I can work with you.” And you and him could be like a power couple. It would be so exciting.

Tags will be in the reblog! Click the link in the bio to be join the taglist or shoot me an ask/dm. Comments and reblogs are really appreciated! ❤❤

Please note that my work is not to be reposted or published anywhere other than my Tumblr or AO3 account without my permission. Reblogs are most welcome though!

[philograce]

Just right

Paring: modern! Eren x reader

Warnings: angsty, resolution in the end, shouldn’t cry:,)

Summary: You and Eren were simply friends but new emotions cause him to build walls around his heart until you finally break them down.

Notes:: I don’t really like this one but I never post anything angsty so:3 anyway if any of you 23 babes wanna submit something go ahead!! I don’t think I really have to set smthn up but lemme know if I do.

Words: 1.8k

Proofread: NOOO well KINDA

It was frustrating. Stupidly annoying and dumb how much Eren could make you feel guilty without every saying it out loud. How your dumb attractive roommate could leave you flustered yet so utterly angry. The past six months it had been this way, simple glares and small actions he would do leaving you confused, yet Eren had his subtle ways to remind you of the strong bond between you two.

When you first met him around 5 years ago, both freshmen meeting each other through your mutual friend Sasha and the two of you instantly connecting, and both of you finding out that you were both looking for a place to live. So, naturally it made sense after a couple months of getting to know each other, that you would move in with one another.

Easily melding together, situating both of your schedules finding out that they were perfectly aligned, Eren was even a good cooker and you great cleaner. It was the perfect solution for the both of you. The other positive was growing closer to him and he growing closer to you.

That's why it confused you with this sudden silent treatment you were receiving from Eren. For the past couple months he seemed off, always too busy to be hanging out with you, never really talking to you unless other friends were around. If it wasn't for the strong emotions you felt with him you would've let it slide, but there were those unspoken new emotions and underlying feelings.

They seemed to start randomly and suddenly, little moments with him leaving your cheeks flustered and your heart beating, the tension seemingly thick between you two leaving the room feeling stuffed and overcrowded. You felt yourself caring for Eren more than a friend would, growing to like his presence with you at all times, and missing him when he left.

It was all simple signs of a growing crush, a innocent yet powerful crush that seemed to prevail. That's why it obviously hurt when Eren seemed to take a sudden dislike towards you. But you were scared and your insecurities got the best of you whenever you tried to confront him about it. You just left it, left the flame between you two to slowly fizzle out. Before all this you used to think Eren might like you back, everything he did showed signs he might, but now your brain kept telling you that was just how he was as a friend.

Now sitting in the kitchen, eyes strained from how long you were staring at the screen, trying to write an essay but your mind was constantly filled with him. Then the door jiggled and he walked in, keys hitting the ceramic bowl as he threw them in, his feet shuffling fully inside, arms moving to take his jacket off. You kept your eyes trained on your screen, not daring to look at him afraid of the glare he might be giving you.

"You're still up? You should head to bed." His voice deepening as it resonated throughout the small kitchen, flickering a single gaze up to his figure you noticed how disheveled he looked. His long dark hair lazily slicked back, eyes drooped and blown out, knuckles drawn with purple bruises and dried blood. It pissed you off, the state he was in and the sudden "caring" words he sent your way left your blood boiling.

Eyebrows furrowing together, you quickly shut your laptop moving out of the kitchen and away from him, at least that's what you tried to do before a hand grabbed your wrist yanking you back. "Don't walk away from me." His commanded, a sort of desperation laced behind the seemingly angry words.

You turned back, staring him right into his eyes noticing the confusion laced within, it seemed that every pint up rage and light night cries flowed out of you. "Do you hate me?" You didn't want it to go this way or ask him that question even, part of you wishes you just kept your mouth shut, but the look of complete anger covering his face only fueled your desire to know the answer.

In reality it seems like a simple question between two close friends, one that would usually be answered with an equally simple statement. But, this was different the sudden collapsing of a bond had been destroyed by the both you, leaving you both alone and bitter. It was also different because Eren was frightened and so angry and all kinds of confused. But most of all, he felt so alone even with you a couple feet away from him.

Eren knew this familiar feeling settling in his bones, the kind where he knew no one really cared that he was always going to be some wicked monster, always hurting the ones he loved the most. But he never wanted to include you in that pile, the pain stricken look on you face sent waves of emotions crashing down into his heart. He hated how you made him feel so much, so used to the numbness that would often consume him.

When he first met you, the first thing he noticed about you was how expressive your eyes were. How they seemed to tell your whole story, but he wasn't expecting you to be able to read him so well either. Used to putting on a pretend face and laid back attitude for the strangers around him, but growing closer to you that wall he built up was broken slowly and slowly down by your gentle loving words and touches. He loved it as much as he hated it, something new and exciting was building up in him but as soon as he noticed his feelings growing more and more attached to you, he brought them down and tried to bury them deep inside. He couldn't hurt the one he grew to love so dearly.

So when the tears filled your lash line, Eren felt his whole crashing down around him, he never wanted to cause you pain. He was just scared and felt alone before, you were this breath of fresh air for him letting him see above the high walls he surrounded himself with.

"I don't hate you." There is no need to hold his words back, but a part of him hesitated not because he was denying his hate for you but it was the complete opposite of that.  There was a part of him that was scared of what you did to him, he wanted to protect and the only way he knew how was by blocking you out of his life.

He catches the flicker of sparks behind you eyes, he tries to figure out exactly what they were trying to say. Did you believe him? Do you hate him? He pleaded with you in his head to forgive him, forgive him for causing you pain and ignoring you for so so so long.

"Then why are you acting like it?" You sneer, trying to get some sort of reaction out of him, you used to be able to so easily read his face and emotions but right now all his eyes seemed tried and dull. You were so confused, why had he been acting like he hated your very presence but now refused to now tell you the real truth. You were angry, and just wanted to break down right then the tears already threating to spill. Pleading inside your head for him to truly not hate you, but how could he not?

"I'm sorry." His voice was nothing lower than a whisper, barely falling faint to your ears but it still sent aches to your heart. For the first time in months you saw a shimmer behind his beautiful green eyes, the same look he would get when he felt extremely guilty and would continuously apologize to you. The small flicker of emotion was what sent you finally over the edge.

Salty warm tears fell down your face, you tried to stop them embarrassed that you were this emotional, but a single gentle thumb came to brush them off your cheek. His warm fingers caressing your face gracefully as he stared down at you, his warm touch leaving goosebumps to spread across your body. His eyes laced with concern but most importantly a lingering fear, a fear that he hurt you but an even greater fear you hated him.

"I'm sorry.....m'sorry..... m'sorry.... I'm-", his tall figure slumped forward forehead crashing against your shoulder as he rambled out a repeated apology. You stood there, arms slumped to your side as your brain raked around trying to understand the situation.

But, when Eren's hands leave your face and carefully made there way down wrapping themselves around your waist pulling you in, you suddenly feel the wet patch growing on the shoulder Eren's face was nuzzled into.

He felt your gentle fingers cautiously wrap around his neck, pulling him closer into you, the both of you realizing how much you missed each other's touch. You wanted to comfort Eren, but with your own tears continuing to swell up, words wouldn't dare to come out of your throat.

Now that Eren had you in his arms again, he felt foolish and so embarrassed with how he acted the past six months, more tears falling out of his eyes while he desperately tried to keep you close to him like you might run off. You had broken through the barriers he set up thinking it was for his own protection, it scared him that you would see his true self, the true self that he hated and was afraid you might hate. You were just happy to finally have Eren back into your arms, the love you felt for him never fading only building as you two sobbed into each others arms.

So, standing in the dimly lit kitchen with arms wrapped around each other, both desperate to feel the other skin again, it seemed that Eren could finally stop pushing you away and let you in. It would take a long time. It would take a lot of work and tears, but the payoff would be so worth seeing the genuine happy smile you'd seen so few times on him before.

A long hard conversation awaited the two of you, but for right then all that mattered was that both of your silly fears were crushed, the hate you two thought the other felt was gone and replaced with the warm flow of physical touch. Even if it was never spoken, you both knew that you loved each other and that's all that mattered.

[dulce-pjm]

Hello. I come bearing a request. 😜

#9 au & #9 prompt. Idk why but this combination just made me laugh. I feel like this screams Yoongi vibes?? So I'm gonna have to request Yoongi lol

anywayssss thank you!!

omg this was a very interesting combination!! had to sit and think on this for like a full 24 hours until i had an idea that i really truly liked. i hope you enjoy, thank you so much for requesting!!! (all of you go shower her with love, she’s the best)

au #9 - secret admirer!au and prompt #9 - “I just wanted to cuddle!”

make your own request here using these prompts!

posting this a day early because it worked better for me scheduling-wise. surprise! lol

case closed!

word count: 4.4k (I’M SORRY)

genre: FLUFF, slight crack, secret admirer!au

summary: it’s gotta be him. yoongi is your secret admirer and you’re so close to proving it. but what happens when you actually do?

warnings: painfully awkward OC, swearing, me having a crisis in tags

Well, call you Sherlock-freakin’-Holmes because you’ve solved the mystery.

Three weeks, three. whole. weeks. of this bullshi— bullcrap (stupid New Years’ anti-cursing Resolution. Which you’ve broken. Multiple times.), but you’d figured it out! The FBI should probably start recruiting you now because you’re pretty sure you’re the world’s next genius detective. (You’re kidding. Kinda. Working for the FBI would be pretty awesome.)

It started with the little notes on your desk. Heart-shaped sticky notes with random, absolutely idiotic pick-up lines scribbling across the pink paper, addressed from your “Secret Admirer.” It’d absolutely baffled you.

It was no secret that you were well-liked around the office, your pleasant demeanor and endearing nature making it easy for you to fit into the tightly knit social circle. It’d been quite a relief to you when you’d first started working at the firm. But liked enough to have a secret admirer? That felt more than preposterous.

You’d spent nearly the entirety of your morning and all of your lunch break pondering the note. Maybe it was a joke? A weird office prank. But that didn’t make sense. Your office was mostly full of parents who loved to brag and/or complain about their kids and overworked twenty-something-year-olds who were much too exhausted with their efforts to build their careers to think about pulling pranks.

But if they were real, then who? After several days of walking into the office and finding the notes (which you kept in the top right drawer of your desk, for investigative purposes. obviously.), you knew you wouldn’t be able to rest until you determined the culprit once and for all. You didn’t exactly want to ask around. The thought made you a little embarrassed and you’d be lying if you said that having this mystery to yourself wasn’t at least a little bit fun.

And how did you find the culprit, you ask? Well, at the place where one finds anything they could ever need: IKEA.

You’d been needing a new bedside table since the one your auntie gifted you just wasn’t cutting it anymore, which gave you the perfect excuse to slowly stroll through the guided floors of the furniture store, gazing lovingly at the decorated rooms and pretending you were living here and not your lazily furnished apartment. You managed to find a sturdy and modern-looking replacement for your nightstand and had loaded your cart with it and a few of the fancy sodas at the checkout line when you saw them.

Pink, heart-shaped sticky notes. The exact heart-shaped sticky notes that’d been littered across your desk for the past week. They were on sale, too, only fifty cents for each pack.

You left IKEA with a new lead... and like seven packs of sticky notes (it was a good deal, okay?).

The next day, you plopped yourself down in the middle of the break room during lunch with a mission and unstoppable resolve.

“Hey, Lisa.” The woman shifted her body in your direction, looking up from her phone momentarily.

“Hmm?”

“Do you shop at IKEA?” you asked, making sure your voice was loud enough to carry throughout the break room. Before Lisa could even answer, a cacophony of voices was quick to join in on the conversation.

“Oh, I just love IKEA,” Dahyun, one of the mothers of the office, said. “I take my kids all the time. They love running around the place and they’re crazy about the food. It’s like taking them to the park except I actually enjoy myself too.” All the other moms hum in agreement.

“Except when I come home with three new pieces of furniture for my husband to help build,” one coworker argued between mouthfuls of her egg salad sandwich. Everyone in the office could laugh at that.

“Oh my god,” Dahyun responded. “One time I got this huge bookshelf for the kids’ room and I thought Seokjin was going to actually kill me. He was up until midnight trying to decipher those instructions. Now we find tutorials on Youtube and build them together.” Soon, the entire break room had split off into their own conversations again, the IKEA discussion having left as quickly as it came. You’d sighed, feeling like your attempt to spot the one who purchased the heart sticky notes was a complete flop.

Until a gruff voice from across the table mumbled, “Their coffee is actually pretty good.” It was so quiet, you almost hadn’t heard him. Your eyes had gone wide, but you were quick to smother the expression and subtly continue the conversation.

“Is it?” you asked casually.

“Yeah,” Yoongi said, munching on his leftovers from the oddly cute pink tupperware container in front of him. “I really like their espresso. It’s good for Americanos.” You grinned, leaning forward.

“Really? What’s the brand called?” It wasn’t like you disliked him, but you didn’t find yourself talking to Yoongi often. He worked in a different department from you and always seemed too hesitant to join the big group conversations at lunch, more likely to observe the banter and dialogue rather than participate. But the times you had talked to him, he’d been nothing but pleasant. Maybe a little sarcastic and blunt and intimidating, but always kind and easy to chat with.

Yoongi shrugged. “I don’t know, it’s Swedish.” You laughed softly, realizing the question was rather pointless. Something in Yoongi’s face changed though and he took a deep breath, like he was gathering the courage for something. “You know, maybe some time we could—”

“Y/N!” Lisa exclaimed, oblivious to the conversation with her eyes still glued to her phones. “Did you see this?” She shoved her phone towards you, forcing you to speed-read through the article. It was some speculation about a dating rumor, the kind of news you can never keep up with but can be fun every once and awhile.

After you got through the piece, you’d nodded politely and mumbled some exaggerated opinion on the matter before letting Lisa return to her phone, and you to the conversation with Yoongi.

“Sorry,” you said. “What were you saying?”

But whatever conviction Yoongi had before was gone. “Ahh, it was nothing. Never mind.”

You weren’t too concerned about it, more focused on the fact that you finally had a potential suspect. He was the only single person in the room who was also a confirmed IKEA shopper, which made him suspect number one, actually.

You didn’t have enough evidence to confront him, not yet. That would require further investigation.

But you won’t lie. You definitely wouldn’t mind if Yoongi was your secret admirer. You’d been harboring a minuscule, incredibly tiny baby crush on him for a while now. Nothing serious or developed. You’d just always thought he was cute with his very much pinchable cheeks and soft dark hair. You’ve definitely never caught yourself checking him out when he’s using the copier, conveniently located across from your desk, and the time he’d caught you mid-fall when your heel snapped absolutely did not make your stomach fill with butterflies.

Needless to say, you’d be questioning Yoongi further.

While you developed your scheme (on paid hours, mind you), the notes kept coming in. Occasionally they were paired with a steaming mug of coffee or tea, leaving you whipping your head around the office to see if you could catch anyone nearby, specifically a man with black hair and a very cute smile, when he allows you the privilege of seeing it.

While most of the notes were greasy lines and light-hearted flirting, there were the occasional notes that had you giggling or smiling to yourself, drawing the attention of your coworkers. Ever since, they’d been making jokes about your “new boyfriend,” which couldn’t be farther from the truth.

For the sake of the investigation and your sanity, you formulated a plan. You mindlessly approached your boss, requesting a duplicate of some form you said you’d lost. He had obliged with a huff, reminding you that you’d need to get new signatures before you could turn it in.

In actuality, the form had been turned in weeks ago. But you weren’t here for corporate idiocy. You were here for lo— Er, detective work.

You’d casually approached Yoongi, asking him to print his name and signature on the designated lines. He complied easily, using what you recognized as an IKEA felt-tip pen to scribble his name. Hmm. You always thought he was more of a ballpoint kind of guy.

“Thanks!” you’d chirped, ready to move on and snag Taehyung from HR’s signature and maybe get Namjoon’s while you were over that way, just in case either of them could be your mystery-note-leaver.

“No problem,” he said, fiddling with the pen in his fingers. You were about to step away when he spoke up again, voice just as soft as it was that day in the break room. “I found the name of the IKEA coffee brand. If you still want it.”

Your face lit up all too noticeably as you stepped closer. “Really? I would, actually.” Yoongi gave you a close-lipped smile in return, turning to rifle through his drawers for some paper to write on. “My mom actually just gave me this new coffee machine for my birthday. It’s the kind that comes with those pods and I’ve slowly been trying all the flavors. I’ll add the IKEA one to the list, now I have an excuse to go shopping and a new coffee to try.” The words came out all at once, making you feel painfully awkward. You were glad Taehyung wasn’t here. When he’s not actually doing his job, he can be a ruthless tease.

But your attention was ripped from your rambles and the heat in your cheeks when Yoongi grabbed a pink. heart-shaped. sticky note. from his desk drawer and used it to write down the brand. Your jaw dropped slightly as you openly gawked, your suspicions being confirmed before your eyes.

It was almost bold, the way he casually scribbled the letters and placed the note in your hand, letting his fingers brush yours. Like he was daring you to confront him right then and there, in the middle of the office with everyone watching. When he met your eyes, it was like a silent challenge.

Too bad you’re not quite as bold as he is. You scurried off in a tizzy to get your other signatures and hoped he didn’t notice how flustered you were (Spoiler Alert: He did. If you hadn’t run away so quickly, you would have seen him quietly chuckling to himself).

Once you collected yourself, you did what you actually set out to do, though there wasn’t much of a need at this point. You grabbed the most recent sticky note, reading We’re not socks, but I think we’d make a great pair, and compared it to the different handwritings on the form and, of course, the note Yoongi just handed to you personally.

Lo and behold, the handwriting matched. Your secret admirer was none other than Min Yoongi.

The majority of the evidence had been collected. All you needed now was one final confirmation, one final blow that proved your findings right once and for all.

“I really can’t let you see the security footage, Y/N. It’s against company policy if you don’t have good cause.” You sigh, massaging your temples.

“Aww, come on, Hoseok!” The tray of cookies sits untouched on his cluttered desk. You hadn’t baked the whole batch and trekked down to the security room for nothing! “It’s just a little thing. Ten minutes of footage, tops.”

Hoseok looks back and forth between you and the cookies helplessly, seeing the clear attempt at a bribe. HR would have his head if he caved for you, but it’s hard to say no when you’re always kind to him. And the cookies look really good.

He sighs. “Alright, fine.” You squeal a thank you before leaning over his shoulder, directing him to the time you’d like to see and staring at the screens intently, eyes fixed on your desk from the view of the ceiling camera.

And there, at 8:43 am today, is Yoongi. Walking by your desk, slapping a pink note on your keyboard and placing a mug of coffee next to it. You cheer in absolute delight, pulling Hoseok up into a hug. He’s entirely caught off guard, halfway hanging out of his seat, but slightly endeared at your excitement, having somewhat put together why you came here.

“Hey, Hoseok, I— Oh.” You break away from the hug quickly, brushing off your skirt and blouse as you turn to the source of the voice.

The blood completely drains from your face when you see Yoongi, eyes wide as he looks back and forth between the two of you.

“Oh, shit,” you hiss as you fully step away from Hoseok. “Yoongi! Uh, hi, I actually wanted to—”

“Sorry for interrupting,” he mumbles nearly at the same time, awkwardly turning around and walking the other way. On pure instinct, you fly after him. As you go, Hoseok snatches a cookie, sighing happily at the sweet taste and leaning back in his chair as to best eavesdrop on your conversation.

“Wait!” You nearly collide into his backside when he abruptly stops, spinning to face you. You wish he was easier to read. You can’t tell if he’s annoyed or flustered or just straight-up neutral. “I wanted to talk to you, actually.”

“Oh, okay.” He shifts on his feet, tucking his thumbs into the pockets of his dress pants.

“About... um... that... coffee!” It takes everything in you not to smack yourself. If you’d had adequate time to prepare, to work up the nerve, you’d have said it. But when you’re looking right into his pretty brown eyes and all of his attention is right on you it’s a bit difficult to think clearly.

“Oh.” His face lights up considerably, though there’s still a hesitancy to his expression. “Did you try it?”

“Yeah! It was great! I made an Americano with it yesterday and really liked it.”

“I’m glad,” Yoongi says, and it feels genuine. “Did you try any new coffee pod flavors today?” You smile bashfully, all too pleased that he remembers.

You take a moment to recall the flavor you went for this morning. “Oh, yeah. It was mint chocolate flavored.” You scrunch your nose at the memory. “It was pretty gross.”

“I don’t know, that actually sounds pretty good. I like mint chocolate.”

The words tumble from your lips before you can stop them, before you can force your logical brain back into control. “Oh, then you should come over and try it!” The smallest of gasps leaves you as you realize what exactly you just said and quickly try to correct it. “That is, if you want to. It’d only be right, since you recommended me the IKEA coffee. So I can return the favor.”

Ugh, shit. Why are you so dumb? Who decided that it was okay for you to speak on a regular basis? Because they were dumber than you, if that was even possible.

“That... sounds nice. Like, right now?” Your heart thumping your chest is the only reason you know you’re alive as he raises his eyebrows and tilts his head and you can’t help but think it’s cute.

“Uh, yeah,” you stammer. “If you want.”

“Sure. Just let me grab my coat and sign out.”

What did you just get yourself into?

--

Yoongi sips at the mug pensively, brows furrowed as he struggles to decipher the many flavors attacking his senses. “Is that blueberry?”

You nod with a short giggle, the caffeine frying your brain by the minute. Turns out Yoongi does not like mint chocolate in coffee all that much. So, naturally, you had to try every flavor in the variety pack your mom bought with the machine to find which one was the best. You’re pretty sure the two of you have consumed at least a week’s worth of caffeine in the hour you’ve been camped by your counter on barstools. If you thought you were awkward and overly talkative before, this was much. much. worse.

“On a scale of one to ten, how bad is it?” Yoongi pauses.

“Wait, do you mean like with ten being the worst tasting thing ever? Or the best?” You scoff.

“With ten being the best tasting thing ever. Obviously.” He chuckles quietly to himself, daring to take another sip.

“Obviously.” He makes a show of wafting the steam from the coffee towards his nose like a snobby wine-taster, ensuring that he experiences every part of the drink before giving his rating. “Yeah, this sucks. Negative seven thousand out of ten. Would not try again.” You giggle again, stealing the mug from his hands and ignoring the butterflies in the pit of your stomach when your hand brushes against his.

You have your own taste of it, lips puckering as soon as the liquid hits your tongue. “Oh my god, that’s disgusting.” Yoongi laughs at your expression, leg bouncing slightly with all the pent-up energy from all the coffee.

“I did try to warn you.”

“You did, the curiosity just got the best of me.”

At that point, you decide to call it quits, moving your barstools back to their rightful place and dumping any leftover coffee in the sink.

You fall into a comfortable silence, washing the mugs together. You let him rinse and scrub while you dry and put them away, since you already know where they go. It’s oddly domestic, and you can’t help the goosebumps that run up your arms each time his elbows rubs against yours in the close space.

“Hey, Yoongi—”

“So, Y/N—”

The words are spoken at the same time, causing you both to abruptly end your thoughts. Timing can be funny like that.

“You go first,” you insist, eyes trained on the green mug you’re drying.

Yoongi hesitates a moment but eventually proceeds with his question. “Are you and Hoseok—?” He leaves the question open-ended, struggling to find the right word.

“No!” you exclaim, maybe a little too passionately. “No, no, no. I’m very single.”

Great way to put it, Y/N.

“Ahh, gotcha.” He hands you the hot pink mug you normally keep in the very back of the cabinet out of sheer embarrassment of the mustache printed on the side. It was an impulse purchase and definitely not a story for when the guy you’re crushing on is first getting to know you. “What were you gonna say?”

You inhale sharply, furiously rubbing the towel at the mug. Just gotta do this quickly. It’s like ripping off a band-aid. What’s the worst that could happen? It all be a huge coincidence?

That would actually be really awkward.

You blurt the accusation out quickly, before your caffeine-induced panic can unleash its iron grip on your thoughts.

“I know you’ve been leaving me those notes. The secret admirer ones.” Yoongi doesn’t seem all too surprised, just continues washing mugs and handing them to you.

“I know.” Wait, what? Well, that was a bit anticlimactic.

“You know?”

“Yeah. It was kinda obvious.” Was it really? Damn, what good is being a detective if you can’t even hide the fact that you solved the mystery? “Do you want me to stop?”

Yoongi isn’t looking at you, but you sure are looking at him. Noticing the pink blush that creeps up his neck and cheeks, concentrating at his ears. He’s chewing on the inside of his cheek, probably thinking you don’t notice.

It’s adorable.

“No. They’re pretty cute. But sometimes weird.” That’s one thing that never really clicked. Never in a million years would you have guessed that Min Yoongi would have a taste for bad pick-up lines and puns. If anything, that seemed like something that disgusted him, if his reactions to Seokjin’s visits to Dahyun were any indication. That man could lay the grease on thick, and Yoongi always looked utterly appalled at his cheesy one-liners.

“Yeah, sorry about that. I just thought you might like it.” You bite your bottom lip to repress a smile, putting away the dish in your hands.

“Can I ask why? Why the little notes instead of just asking me out?” And then caffeine-you starts screaming in your head again. “Er— Not that I was expecting that. It just doesn’t seem like you, as far as I can tell.”

Yoongi sighs, supposing it’s only fair that he lay it all on the table.

“A month ago I heard you talking to Lisa, when you said you’d always wanted love letters. Not that that’s what these were. But I wanted to ask you out in a fun way because you’re a fun person and I know I’m not great with words so I figured stupid little notes would make you smile. The secret admirer thing was supposed to be just once, but your expression was really cute when you first saw it so I kept it up. Your smile’s pretty nice. I guess.” You don’t think you’ve ever heard him say that many words at once, uninterrupted. Maybe Yoongi’s operating off of caffeine-brain too.

There’s an uncontrollable grin on your face, pushing against your cheeks to the point where they ache and crinkling into your eyes at the corners. When Yoongi turns to look at you, surprised at your sudden silence, you get a full view of his flushed cheeks.

“Your smile is pretty nice, too,” you manage, earning a sheepish expression in return.

“I guess,” you add.

The rest of the mugs are finished as the two of you wrap up at the sink, smiling to yourselves like kids who just confessed to their crushes. Which is essentially what happened anyway, if you ignore the fact that you’re less than half a decade away from turning thirty.  Something about the way he’s been paying careful attention to you, to your conversations and your personality, your likes and dislikes. Never have you felt so sought after. It’s really nice.

You’re giddy, every muscle in your body tense and filled with energy— and not just from the caffeine. It’s what compels you to keep talking... although you also have the urge to just pull Yoongi into a huge hug. He’s irresistible, like one of those giant teddy bears you can only find in stores at random times during the year.

“Maybe you should stay,” you spit out, glancing at the clock. “The night.”

Yoongi’s eyes fly towards yours, nearly bulging out of his head.

“Wha— Tonight?” Now it’s his turn to be flustered. “I mean, if you really want me to. But isn’t it a little soon—?”

“Huh?” And then it hits you, the weight of your words. “Wait, no! I only meant because of the caffeine. Caffeine overdose. It’s a real thing. You probably shouldn’t drive. I’d let you use the couch.” You smack your face outright, wishing you could crawl into a hole never come back out. “I didn’t mean— that. I mean, I certainly wouldn’t mind doing that... at some point. But not right now, and—”

An exasperated half-scream leaves your mouth and you barely peek through the fingers over your eyes. “—I just wanted to cuddle! Just a bit.”

Yoongi stares at you blankly after your outburst for what feels like hours before finally piping up. “That... sounds good to me.”

At some point the awkwardness fades— you’d still like to find a hole to crawl into, though —and you’re plopped next to Yoongi on the couch, criticizing Hallmark movies like they’re up for the Oscars.

Yoongi sighs as the clock approaches midnight, though neither of you are even close to being sleepy. “I’m never drinking coffee again.”

“Ditto.” The credits start rolling as the trailer for the next film plays, something about a secretary and her boss getting together— classic trashy romance that you’ll probably enjoy more than you’d care to admit. You turn to Yoongi as the commercial break comes on.

“Hey,” you say. He swivels his head towards you, eyes just as bright and alert as yours.

“Hey.”

“Wanna hear a pick-up line?” His eyes narrow.

“Haven’t you had enough of those for a lifetime?” You smirk.

“Oh, I have. Now it’s your turn.” Yoongi sighs, settling back against the couch and gesturing in front of him.

“Fair enough. Have at it.”

You shift to face him slightly, legs tucked under your thighs criss-cross-apple-sauce style. “If you were a pirate, would you put your parrot on this shoulder—?” You tap the shoulder closest to you. “Or this one?” You sling your arm around his broad shoulders, leaning closer with a cheeky grin.

Yoongi, in response, outright scowls. But he doesn’t pull away.

“That was terrible. I never want to hear that again.” You scoff, slapping his arm playfully.

“I thought it was at least a little cute!” Yoongi shakes his head.

“It was only cute because you did it.” He laughs, straight up laughs, at your expression, pushing your arm away so he can wrap his own around your abdomen, playfully pulling you into his side. If his friends could see him now, they’d probably have a heart attack at how whipped he’s acting.

At some point, it turns into a bad pick-up line competition, the two of you googling the worst ones you could possibly think of, eventually turning to the inappropriate ones for the sheer shock factor. The caffeine crash hits around four am, with Yoongi’s head heavy in your lap as you recline back against the couch, mouth hanging open as you snore softly. It’s weird and a little awkward and entirely unconventional. You’ll blame the fact that you don’t hate it all on caffeine-brain. Let’s just blame everything on it at this point.

You wake up the following morning with a powerful headache and a sticky note on your forehead, no Yoongi in sight.

You tear it off, blinking the sleep from your bleary eyes until you can actually make out what it says.

Your eyes are like IKEA. I’m totally lost in them. haha, get it? anyways, IKEA date on saturday? no caffeine allowed — your secret admirer (yoongi — in case you forgot)

ps - you look cute when you sleep

You snicker as you stumble to the fridge, fastening the heart-shaped note to the cold metal with a magnet.

Maybe someday years from now, or maybe weeks or months, you’ll look back on this whole encounter and cringe. Hell, that’s what you’re doing right now. But you can’t deny the anticipation you feel at getting to spend more time with Yoongi, even if it’s filled with awkward pauses and rambling.

Either way, it’s official. Mystery solved. Case closed.

[lovemeafterhrs]

new years eve | t. kuroo

nye shitshow based HEAVILY on mal blum’s new years eve and the mess of drafts i’ve written at 3am for the past week. im a sucker for a good tetsu fic and i have quite a few in the works,, kinda weird coming from an akaashi main but it is what it is i guess

~~~~

new year’s eve had always held a lot of value deep in her heart; her need to say goodbye to the past was never fleeting, and most things ended with the resolutions of many years before.

but that year was different.

college was a new, welcome surprise that took her by the horns and dragged her through complete chaos day after day. most of the casual destruction was traced back to kuroo tetsurou, her (not so) beloved roommate and destroyer of ikea furniture.

among the cast of revolving characters that passed through their shared apartment, bokuto was definitely the most interesting.

he just so happened to also be the root of kuroo’s evil.

as months passed and the seasons began to shift around her, she became accustomed to dealing with the duo and their crowd of volleyball misfits.

but nothing could compare to the horror that awaited her on new year’s eve.

she hadn’t taken into account that people would arrive long before her roommate did, and most of her time would be spent observing his friends downing shots from the small kitchen island.

yachi had been the first to approach her that night, noticing the concern that marked her features as she struggled not to check the time.

the girl brought a sense of comfort that had previously been missing, and her face brightened at the wine in the other girl’s coffee mug.

the two sat at the kitchen island together, eating guacamole and drinking boxed wine from coffee cups. they observed the many drunken behaviors of the people around them, giggling to themselves with pink dusting their cheeks.

by the time kuroo stumbled through the door, the clock on the coffee pot showed 11:58 in a bright red glow. yachi’s tolerance had gotten the best of her, and two wine bottles laid empty on the counter next to her. the girl was entirely trashed, and abandoned her post at the island for a necessary trip to the bathroom.

kuroo’s apologetic smile met her eyes, and the disappointed look on her face was enough to keep him at arm's length for the rest of the evening.

yachi had returned shortly after, and the two sat together as the clock struck midnight. shouts were heard from all around her, but she could only focus on the rooster headed man’s drunken smile as he leaned in to kiss tsukishima.

that of course, was met with complete and utter disgust. but that’s entirely besides the point.

~~~~

365 days later, and she’s found her way back to the marble of her countertop.

much to her dismay, yachi had been out of town that year. instead of joining the crowd of rowdy 20-somethings, she chose to sit back and remember the moments that began the year.

the year prior had been disappointing considering her expectations, but she hadn’t forgotten all the memories she’d made.

she didn’t enjoy cleaning bokuto’s vomit out of the carpet the next day, and she could barely remember how the night played out in the first place. the shrimp tsukishima brought had given half the guests food poisoning, but the night lived on in her heart regardless.

in the middle of her tipsy daydream, kuroo sunk himself into the stool next to her; a drunken smile plastered on his face as he moved for the bowl of guacamole.

“this year’s already over,” he stated, glancing over at the other guests. “how crazy is that?”

“it’s really weird, actually.” she sighed, and his eyes snapped over to her as she continued. “last year, yachi ate that entire bowl of guacamole. now it’s barely been touched since the party started.”

“hey, don’t be sad! it’s about to turn midnight, and you can’t be upset when the new year starts!” his attitude was enough to make her smile, but it didn’t quite meet her eyes as the people surrounding her started to count down from five.

something clicked in kuroo’s brain as the clock struck midnight, and before he could think it through, his lips were on hers.

it only lasted a moment, but in that time she began to realize that maybe things could be different.

~~~~~

sometimes, observations of the situation are not enough to determine the outcome. in a whole year, they had managed to avoid the one topic that left far more questions than anything else.

instead of letting the year replay again, kuroo had made plans on the opposing side of the city. while she had intended to stay home with the long-forgotten guacamole, yachi had convinced her to spend the new year without the thoughts of her troublesome roommate.

that was how she came to stand at the bar of a bustling nightclub with her blonde companion, much too drunk for the loud and overwhelming atmosphere.

the clock had already signaled the beginning of another year, but it didn’t feel resolved.

there was no resolution.

instead of roping yachi into dealing with her problems, she decided to go back to the apartment she had spent many beginnings and endings in.

fumbling with her keys, she struggled to focus on the door handle as memories began to flood her senses.

kuroo dodged her calls for many days after he kissed her that night, and things never really felt the same. there was tension unlike before; the fear of being alone together and making another mistake compromised their ability to spend time in each other's company.

but he was also so kind that it hurt her. there was no ill intention within him, only fear of ruining what was previously established.

the realization sunk heavy into her heart as the door closed behind her, and her subconscious shouted for answers of what or who he was doing while she was sliding to the floor against the cold frame of the door.

it was possible to assume that he only flirted to pass time, but something about the way he looked at her scared them both into silence.

the fun, playful manner of their relationship came to an abrupt halt after new year’s eve, and neither of them could grasp quite what went wrong.

but she did know something; that even if she didn’t want to, her feelings for kuroo were becoming more and more obvious with every day. she couldn’t ignore it anymore, and that upset her more than him not being present in that moment.

the realization shocked her into getting up from her place on the floor, and shuffling over to the liquor cabinet.

drinking straight from the bottle, she took a seat on the kitchen island and placed her head against the cold marble of the counter top.

“here i am again,” she laughed to herself, disregarding the jingle of keys from the hallway.

the door swung open, and kuroo immediately took notice of her presence in the kitchen. he was obviously drunk, but the look in his eyes said the many things that he had never voiced to her.

“i don’t like it when you’re not here.” he stated, and she looked at him with confusion gracing her features. “new years wasn’t the same without you.”

“then we can have it here next year-”

“i don’t think you get what i'm saying,” he sighed, preparing for the worst out of his sudden confession. “i.. don’t think i want to spend it with anyone else.”

“oh..?” the surprise on her features was blatantly obvious, but the smile that followed brought all the certainty he needed. “our kitchen island has two chairs for a reason.”

“good. maybe next year, we can make guacamole.”

“i’d like that.”

masterlist:

[bluephoenixdruidicprincess]

Another Short Little Meta on Peter Maximoff from the X-Men Movie Franchise

I'm so sorry y'all. I'm sure I have plenty of followers who legitimately don't care about this. Even though I wouldn't say that Dark Phoenix was a great movie or even a good one...it was just nice, I guess. If you're into getting a character study of Jean Grey, this is the perfect movie for you but sadly, you're not going to get much more than that. But despite not loving it, I'm still very much riding a high because of it. Because once again, I've become absolutely obsessed with Peter Maximoff. Dark Phoenix did my boy dirty but it didn't stop my fascination with him as a character. So on to it.

Why was Peter throughout X-Men Apocalypse so adamant about confronting Erik and telling Erik that he's Erik's son only to change his mind at the eleventh hour and not tell him? Well partly, I've already discussed this in my post from a couple of days ago. Seeing the kind of havoc Erik was wreaking on the world, Peter just had this mental realization in that moment in Cairo when he confronted Erik that he doesn't want to acknowledge that he could have a father who is capable of this destruction. He doesn't want to acknowledge his father is this kind of man. And he certainly doesn't want to acknowledge that because he shares blood with the guy, that that means he could also be this kind of man. He decides to turn his back on the man he COULD one day become in order to walk the path of the man he WANTS to become. He doesn't want to be a loser who destroys the world, he wants to be a loser who would save it. As I said, I've already brought this up in an earlier post but another thing I find myself thinking about is why did he decide to go searching for Erik in the first place? Apocalypse happens 10 years after Days of Future Past and theoretically, Peter's mom most likely spilled the beans pretty soon after she and Peter saw Erik on TV threatening to kill the President and all that jazz from Days of Future Past. Obviously, if I grew up without a father and then my mother out of the blue told me who my father was, I'm going to get curious about him, find out everything I could about him, and maybe go searching for him. So why did Peter wait as long as he did to seek Erik out? Granted, in that 10 years, Erik was in hiding so he would've been difficult to seek out for sure but I feel like if Peter really wanted to, he could've done some digging and maybe have figured it out. After all, he is crazy fast, couple that with a little investigating, it's possible he might've been able to track Erik down. It's not like Peter didn't have a starting point. He had that card he stole from Xavier. And in Apocalypse when he does decide to seek out his father, he does go to that school to try and find answers so it's not like Peter didn't have anything to go off of. He just sat on it for a decade.

So 10 years go by and why all of the sudden is he super interested in finding Erik? Well, I think the answer can be traced back all the way to Days of Future Past when he saw Erik's speech on TV. Look at his face in this moment.

There's probably a couple of different ways someone could read onto what Evan Peters is trying to display here but I personally view this as him realizing, "This man, who I broke out of prison, is causing all of this destruction. None of this would be happening if I had said no to those three guys who invaded my basement. Everyone that this man has killed or threatened to kill or hurt since I broke him out, that's all on me." And I think in this moment, he was realizing that there consequences to his actions. Use your powers callously and this is what happens. And I definitely head canon that in the 10 year gap, Peter was being more thoughtful on how he decided to use his gifts. So in Apocalypse when he's seeing all the damage Erik did on the news, he's taken himself back to the mindset that, "hey, the only reason this happened is because I broke him out of prison 10 years ago, this is on me." It obviously isn't all on him but I feel like this is something that would be going through his head. And because he's not a scared teenager anymore, in this moment he makes the decision that he's going to do something about this. He's going to find a way to stop this and rectify the mistake he made 10 years ago. That's why he's so adamant about getting to his father. He believes that if he gets to his father and tells Erik he has a long lost son, that it's going to pull Erik back from the brink and it'll stop all of this destruction. He doesn't want anyone else to be hurt because of his ill-advised decision 10 years back. And when Peter finally is face-to-face with Erik in Cairo, as I said earlier, there's him dealing partially with not wanting a father like Erik and not wishing to acknowledge that Erik is who he could one day become. But I also think Peter came across this realization upon gazing at Erik that telling Erik who he is isn't going to change anything. Erik will still be a loose cannon, just a loose cannon who knows he has a son now (and maybe a daughter, it's unclear in this franchise if Wanda exists or not). I feel like Peter realizes that Erik knowing he has a son isn't going to make Erik a better person. And if he were to tell Erik, maybe it would've stopped him, maybe it wouldn't have, but he doesn't want to think that his existence is the only thing that'll keep Erik on the right side of the brink. Like, I said, it's not going to suddenly change Erik and make him a good person. And of course, there was probably a fear of rejection going on as well. It would be scary to make this kind of revelation known in a normal context, but something like this, I couldn't even imagine.

But yeah, there's little meta for you guys, a little bit of a character study, too. I'm still salty as shit we still have not gotten a resolution on this but I will retain optimism and hope that one day we shall get a Quicksilver solo film where a writer will have ample time to really explore this. And honestly, I think Evan Peters has enough stage presence and charisma to be able to handle a solo film.

[ngame989]

I'm new to writing fanfic, and always work solo, so when I saw you have a whole team at your disposal, it blew my mind. I've got a list of questions about that: 1. How did you guys find each other and get started? 2. How does your work flow look for a story vs. a page/chapter of the comic? 3. How much do you love having an editor? 4. How does your work change from draft to final? 5. The quality of your prose is very consistent, is that just you as a writer, or is it your team keeping you good?

1. Seddm, EA, and Dino were all good friends of mine from the fandom from before or during Season 3 (I started watching the show between 2B and BFM). Toxic started watching the show sometime in late 2018 and messaged me on Tumblr for some sort of formatting help, or tips and tricks for getting posts more noticed in the fandom or something? I don’t remember and Tumblr DMs are awful to navigate, but we quickly bonded over what really matters most.

Lawchan had been a longtime follower of the show and fanfic author who inspired me to get into it back after 3A and we started talking and became friends at some point in the last year or so. BMC popped into my askbox when I opened it up to headcanon suggestions and ended up sending me over 100 in a span of 3 days that were all wonderful and creative so we started talking more. This really is a “team” in a loose sense, I just have a ton of awesome and creative and supportive friends willing to help out with this.

Oddly enough, this project started less than a day after (and was inspired by) Lake House Fever. I had already been thinking about getting back into fanfiction writing after S4 ended and we were pissed and salty and just needed good Starco thoughts so I hit him up and we started chatting and thought “huh wait a Star and Marco section of a family photo album would be a cool concept for some sort of series” and it evolved from there. We’d planned out a lot of the basics for the comic before the show ended and were waiting on the canon resolution before going any further, and Cleaved shook a lot up for what the postcanon status quo would be, so my whole aforementioned group all sat in a Discord channel on and off for literally 8+ hours the day after Cleaved and roundtable’d the entire backbone of the Earthni timeline for almost every major character (so if there’s people in the credits for TGG that haven’t shown up directly in any works yet, that’s where they contributed).

2.  Overall I’m the project lead and head writer so the majority of specific ideas, what should this page have or where is the story going, etc, come from me although anything we do gets signed off on by at LEAST me, Toxic, and Seddm first.  For comics, I usually plan the concept (Star goes here, these people are talking to each other, happy or sad, etc) and then let Toxic do his thing - he’s great already but is SUUUUUUUUPER amazingly wonderful at reading my mind and making visuals that represent my thoughts even better than the visuals in my head for them. He’ll do a rough page layout and sketch, we workshop that, then he does line-art, we look for any issues or revisions there, then he colors as I make the dialogue.  Usually takes a few days of back and forth.

Honestly my workflow for writing fics is absolute ass and you should not learn from us (ESPECIALLY me) if you’re getting into the game, hahahaha. Every day that I say I’m gonna write something, I usually end up dicking around at my computer until 1 AM and THEN decide to write a little bit and lose sleep over it. A lot of Glow was written between 2 and 6 AM on a Saturday night. I’m ridiculously nitpicky of my own work and half the time before I even finish typing a sentence I’m already erasing it because I decided it was dumb or did something wrong, which makes drafts take F O R E V E R, but the silver lining is that my first draft is already very polished by the time it’s done.

Overall, we play to our strengths - Seddm and I are general idea guys, “wouldn’t it be funny/cool if X” or “we should tell a story about Y” etc, and Toxic is especially wonderful at coming up with fantastic visual designs or gags or whatever else. So there’s plenty of times where I’ll give him the rough outline for a comic page and he’ll slip in some goofy background thing that makes it so much better, or I’ll give him a joke idea and it’ll work amazingly. I also like to call Seddm my “internal debate moderator”. When I’m struggling to figure out what to do for something, I’m often torn between a few ideas. Getting outside advice on it can obviously be really helpful, but there are times that it leaves me even more confused about what to do. But because my and Seddm’s understandings of the characters and senses of design and humor are so damn similar, he can basically serve as both a neutral voice and still part of my own thought process at the same time, which really helps me get my own personal ideas in order before running them by others.

3. Editors are great and wonderful and perfect and I love my friends to death for graciously helping week in and week out with this when I ping them with “hey guys shat this out, sun has been up for an hour so im gonna go fucking die now bye”. As stated earlier, perhaps my need for one isn’t AS high because I self-edit so compulsively as I go, but it’s soooooooo easy to get caught up in your own head and intentions and not spot obvious issues with your own writing that outside voices help a ton.

4. Whoops I guess I answered already. Very little.

5. Given that edits don’t change much about the structure of my writing, I guess it’s me - thanks! But my team is great about keeping me in line with my own vision in editing and hitting any lines that just seem out of place. There was one particular cut line in Glow that I won’t post here that was easily a full standard deviation of naughty greater than the rest of the fic’s tone (unintentional, it was very late -_-) and that got caught and shot down real quick lmfao.

[punkscowardschampions]

Ali & Ro

NYD Catch-up

Ali: *Daintliy throws the tiniest of pebbles at our window 'cos I'm in trouble enough if this goes tits up without also breaking a window* Ropunzel, Ropunzel, let down your hair! Ro: allow me to busily make tea while I loudly quiz Tess and whoever else may be in earshot about their resolutions Ro: I can't believe you're only just getting home! I was going to ask how you're evening was but I think I can guess Ali: You're a 🌟 Ali: We need to fully mind-map and dream-board ours later, I've got so many ideas already but I at least need in on that tea action first, builder's brew please and thank you 😘 Ali: Shh 😉 I've been in bed since 1 💤 like an 😇 Ali: Hehe social media never lies, not mine at least Ali: I'll tell you all about it, whilst Ma tries to tell you she quit the fags years ago, like 🙄 Ali: 💃 Ro: Of course. Well, there has been a kitty there so the universe should stay on our side with that one, hopefully. Ro: Hm yes, if anyone asks you got back before I did, there's not much I can do if social media decides to answer instead though alas Ro: Oh Tess, no offense intended, but truly I'd much rather hear what you have to say Ali: Oh, Bluebs, hope she was alright with the fireworks, I paid Rocky with a selection box to keep her company but bet he was too busy being a hooligan come 12, nutter...but I'm sure she hid herself nicely warming the blankets for us anyway, like 😽 Ali: Did you and Meena have a good time? With all dem 💶💶💶 you can both more than make up for missing the hottest part night of the year, ay Ali: Bless her heart, though perhaps take her pack away from her still, you'll be helping her and, you might need one after I fill you in, like 😉 Ro: I can't tell a lie there was some bribery involved for us too with the older kids. They had me baking and the text advice I received from Tommy wasn't as helpful or coherent as usual Ro: We definitely earned our crusts it has to be said Ro: I think Meena would've liked to join you so you might want to play down the finer details when you fill her in but no complaints here, fussy children aside Ro: I draw the line at that level of trickery, we'd both be caught if I even tried I think Ali: I think its to be expected, babysitter rules are there are no rules, or very few, ESPECIALLY when it comes to sugar 😋 Lucky kiddos, I would kill for a sweet treat rn Ali: Maybe I can push it and see if the old man is any fit state to do a fry-up too, mmm Ali: We should deffo ring Tommo then and be annoyingly loud and cheerful 'cos he always gets hangovers un🍀 🦆y Ali: Payback Ali: Well her brother was there so she wouldn't have been able to have all that much fun, like, I'll be sure to downplay it though, tact is so my strong suit 😏😂 Ro: Oh? You'll be glad to hear then that I had the foresight to make enough cookies to bring a batch home. There's still a few that could be claimed by you if you're quick enough. Ro: I can make no such promises about a proper breakfast but time will tell I suppose, I'd consider it favorable if you work a little of your own magic Ro: You have plenty left don't you? Ro: We'll likely need an actual spell to wake Tommy after all Ali: Faster than a speeding bullet, me Ali: I can climb these drainpipes like nobody else 🐈💪 Ali: I'm sure we could concoct a pepperup potion, getting him to drink it is another kind of magic altogether Ali: even if we settle for calling it an energizer smoothie or something muggle Ro: Perhaps we could say it has lots of biotin that'd make him more inclined for sure Ali: When quiff is life Ali: He truly is sweet 16 Ali: And 15 is looking up for me too, fingers crossed and knock on wood rn, this is gonna be our year, Posy, and that ain't the after-affects still talkin' Ali: Wished on every 🎆 in the sky Ro: Wishing is very powerful so I'm not surprised, I am very intrigued though Ro: Go ahead Ali: I'm in 💚 Ali: 🙃 and now hiding under the covers eeeeeeeeeeeppppp bye Ro: Did Marlene get off work early last night and surprise you? That's so lovely Ali: No, no, no Ali: It's all but ended and it will be if my feeling is correct and reciprocated Ali: We'll be better off as friends, honestly, I can't give her what she wants but I can be there for as a mate so that's what's best, she'll see that given a bit of time, I'm sure of it Ali: That said...do you think I'm a total slag for who did surprise me last night now? 😳🙈 Ro: Oh okay. That makes sense Ro: No Ali, I'd never Ro: Is it someone I know? You've mentioned Meena's brother already... Ali: Oh lordy no 😂 Drew is an alright lad really but no, he's not the sort, definitely would not be reciprocated, he's got half the girls at School after him and he loves that Ali: More power to him but you're getting warmer Ali: you know the lad him and Meena live with, don't you? Caleb Cavante, in my year too Ali: 😍 Ro: I think so? He's always in the music block isn't he? Ro: He smiles a lot. Not in a weird sense though I don't mean that Ali: Oh Ro 😂 you make ME smile Ali: sounds like him, cool hair Ali: obviously, I knew of him before last night but it was just like...right time, right place, you know? Ali: Sounded triter than all the 'new year, new me' posts aren't I? Ro: Not at all Ro: It sounds like a fairy tale and we're treating it as such! Ro: Did you kiss him at the end of the countdown? Ali: Oh no, I forgot to lose a shoe...Typical, on the one night to make throwing dancing shoes aside count! But I suppose he won't have to search the kingdom high and low Ali: Back at School Tuesday Ali: At least this promises to make my weekdays more entertaining at any rate Ali: Mhmm 😊 *Gameshow host voice* BUT THAT'S NOT ALL Ro: What else is there? Did he lose a shoe instead? I dread to think what I'm missing here... Ali: [Improptu selfie with the tattooed finger over her lips like a moustache] Ali: Not saying that trumps 'Facebook Official' but 😎 Ro: !!!! Ro: did Caleb get a tattoo too? Ali: Oh silly me, yeah Ali: [Photo they took together post-tattoo] Ali: Big n Lil dipper, its cute, right? Ro: Oh my god! You better not post these, Tess will kill you, but Ro: I think that's adorable Ro: Did it hurt so much?? Ali: She'll love it Ali: we did it ourselves, on each other Ali: thank god he wasn't really crap, unfair, I'd have to go over it myself 😂 Ali: Not really, doing lil dots like that by hand is probably the most chill way to do it, it really wasn't anything to think about even Ali: I could do one for you, really get the mumbot shorting a circuit 😈 Ro: Really?! Weren't you scared?! I would be. Ro: Ali that's so brave. He must have trusted you and vice versa to such a degree Ro: Only you'd get all of this out of the way before a first date has even happened Ro: No wonder you're so giddy Ali: Nah it's not scary, you can watch next time I do one on me, if you like, see for yourself Ali: Promise it isn't dead gory or anything Ali: I'm thinking of doing a Clitocybe rivulosa, our 👑 achievement in witchery to date, you want in? Ali: Won't show Mum that one forreal, she'd lock us in separate dungeons again 👎💔 Ali: Yeah...it felt good to get that shit out of the way, this way, if he wants to look down at his hand ever again and not be reminded of a bad memory, we'll have to make it good Ali: Clever, non? Everyone will think its ridiculous, I know, but I trust his intentions now, which is more than I can say for any of my previous Ali: Bar Marlene, of course, although technically she didn't set her intentions but not in a malicious way so we're letting it slide Ro: Do you sincerely promise? I'd like to see the whole thing for myself before I make any of my own but Ro: It does sound lovely. I'd be jealous if I wasn't so pleased Ro: No offense to Marlene, oops, I'm getting carried away here Ro: It is happy news though Ro: I mean, a love letter on skin, that's just Ro: It makes me speechless Ali: 🤞 Ali: ❌💚🙏☠💉👁 Ali: Me too, it's catching Ali: It'll be better in the long run, she can find her a wifey Ali: I know, I just- ahh Ali: He just text, asking if I got Home alright Ro: Sorry but this boy is a keeper Ro: that's so gentlemanly it's like we've stepped into Austen Ro: Are you nervous about school? It just sounds so magical and classrooms are so...well, not, aren't they? Ali: Better! He wasn't stand-offish and rude to me at the party, only to be won 'round by my wit, humor and independent spirit Ali: Clearly, he's more clued in and go-with-the-flow than Darcy, a win in anyone's books, even Jane's Ali: Hmm, not particularly, nah Ali: I'm not overly concerned with what other people think, so that won't spoil it, fat chance Ali: and we've always had a certain talent for making the mundane magical, haven't we? Ro: Jane would be spinning! Lydia with all her apparent lack of concerns for 'social conventions' has nothing on you and I have little doubt you'd be overjoyed by whatever 'disgraces' Caleb had in mind Ro: A much better match that anything she'd have conceived no doubt Ro: School seems so far off still but now I really am envious that you've made certain you'll have reason to look forward to it. Very unfair! Ro: The only fly in the ointment, potentially is what Marlene might say, how much are you going to tell her? Ali: 🙊 Ali: I'd be happy to regale you with the night's disgraces but I have even less doubt that you'd rather not hear about those details Ali: You're not trying to tell me you've previously nearly eloped with Caleb yourself though, are you? 🤔 Georgiana Darcy is a pretty good fit for you Ali: Now that would be a scandal worth the gossip 😏 Ali: Perhaps you can join me and make the music block your new haunt for a bit, give the library chance to REALLY miss you, like Ali: Hmm, no doubt she'll say things she'll regret when her pride is less hurt Ali: but they aren't prejudices against my 'fake' sexuality I haven't heard before, from her as well, so 🤷 Ali: I understand why, not that I agree with her. For one, I can attest to the reality, and also, I've not got any issue with experimentation, whatever the outcome but I see her frustration Ali: Serious as she is, about, everything Ali: It'll be okay, if she doesn't want to be my friend then alright, her loss frankly, but I'll always be there for her if she chooses Ro: To be honest, no I would not. It's much too early in the year, and day, for all that Ro: Oh goodness! Flattered as I would be to considered an accomplished woman, I fall short in all necessary regards, least of all the elopement alas Ro: Hm, as much as I both enjoy, and clearly need the practice for that comparison to hold true in any sense, I think I'll leave you to the necessary haunting yourself Ro: True. She's always been very vocal, hasn't she? I can understand if you slightly relish the opportunity to leave her speechless just this once too Ro: And it really would be her loss if she chooses that path to go down anyway Ali: What can I say? I'm an overachiever Ali: Couldn't even help myself, like 😎😂 Ali: No you don't, and you're a year younger, you're well ahead of the curve set and it ain't even necessary for a lady to have pleasant hobbies and talents in our day and age so Ali: You're an overachiever too, that's why I loooooove you 💚 Ali: S'cool though, suppose we don't wanna turn up en masse, put him off his A game, bit rude Ali: It is one of the things I admire about her but less so her dogmatism Ali: No one is always right about everything, even me 😜 Ro: Thanks I suppose Ro: Though I probably shouldn't pass on that wisdom about not always being right to everyone else at the kitchen table Ro: Not if I would like to live to be a year older at any rate Ali: Honestly 🙄 Ali: No wonder they love Marlene so much Ali: Ma is gonna be gutted, no doubt it'll be all my fault Ali: like lowkey but damn, woman, show a little loyalty when your daughter can't 😂 Ro: She'll calm down as long as you keep your gentleman caller away from the door for a while I'm sure Ro: When is the first date set for actually? Oh so exciting! Ali: Yeah, we've both agreed as much Ali: For Lene's sake as much as mother's Ali: Gotta get my house in order Ali: I don't know, ooh, what should we do?! Ro: There's always the open mic if he'd adore being serenaded Ro: Sounds like you'd have time to work on a dedication if not a song Ali: THAT IS A FANTASTIC IDEA Ali: I'll bring out an old classic, best to stick with what I know and am best at for max best impressions Ali: Can always go new and exciting with the outfit 🤩 Ro: Exacty Ro: Your full of good ideas when it comes to that Ro: Oh! We should go donation diving. New year, new clothes to peruse through Ali: Yes! We must we must! Ali: Best time of year for it, ungrateful fuckers binning their unwanted presents Ali: Regift 'em our way 🙏 Ali: Marlene wants to meet up later Ali: Looks like we're doing this today then, ugh, we can hit the charity shops tomorrow maybe? The sales rush shoulda died down a bit at least Ro: That works for me, I'd rather not fight for my faux furs, somewhat defeats the desired purpose Ro: I'll be around if things with Marlene go according to plan, or otherwise and you need to talk it out Ali: Agreed, though I'm down for granny bashing our way to the bargains if needs must Ali: I'll be getting some practice in today, like 🙃 Ali: Thank you though, Posy Ali: Sure it'll be fine Ro: I know it will. You can do this Ro: I can condone that much at least, your shopping behavior less so Ali: 😽 Ali: With you on my side, how could I fail? Ali: She is getting narky though so watch me waltz down the stairs and out again like missed me missed me

[onwardintolight]

Hi, do you remember the post about always feeling like the Obnoxious Weirdo when trying to make friends, I'm curious have you ever found a way through that? because I know that I probably haven't done anything that is obnoxious but I'm afraid that I am, so I try not to start conversations and wait for the other person to start them. but that is not working very well It has been 3 months in this new school and I still have no friend.. I'm 18 by the way

Hey there anon-friend :) Wow, this question is really timely. I decided to do that thing this year where instead of making New Year’s resolutions, you pick a word to shape your year. I chose the word “engage” because I want to challenge myself in this very area, so it will actually be really helpful for me to think through all of this as I write!

I’m guessing it’s this post you’re talking about. I wish I had an easy answer for you, but I don’t. Obviously this is still something I struggle with a lot. However, over the years I have come to some realizations that have helped.

A major one is that sometimes (and honestly, it will often seem like most of the time) you’ve just got to push through and make the first move. I know it’s really hard and scary but keep in mind that many people are probably feeling the same way as you. If everyone’s too scared or shy to reach out, then no one will. In my experience, waiting around forever for someone else to reach out is only going to leave you disappointed and bitter.

People are in all sorts of different places. Some, like I already said, may want to reach out but are too scared to do so. Others may not be interested yet because they don’t yet know anything about you. Give them something to be interested in, because the truth is, you are uniquely interesting. Everyone is. No one else can be you, so be you, boldly (whatever boldly means for you). 

Be kind. Be vulnerable. Be ready to help. 

Practically speaking, you can start small — a smile, a simple introduction, an offer to share your class notes if they need them or even study together, a mutual eye roll about your teacher’s ridiculous antics. It’s hard at first but it gets easier the more you practice. Ask them their major, what they’re interested in doing with it, what they enjoy doing outside of school. They’re probably as eager to make a connection with someone in the class as you are since having a study buddy is mutually beneficial. Eventually, see if they want to go out for coffee (or fill in the blank with your choice of social activity). Maybe you’ll click and become friends, or maybe not. Whatever happens, it’s worth it to try.

Whether you’re at university or not, be on the lookout for anyone who needs help or is sad or having a rough time. This quote by Ian Maclaren is almost cliché now, but it’s so good: “Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle.” Everyone is struggling in some way, and by reaching out — not down from somewhere above them, but from right by their side as someone who is struggling in some way too — you may not only help them but find a friend.

The truth is, as long as you focus on what you want for yourself, on how much you wish other people would do these things for you, it will be really hard to see opportunities and make connections. Instead, try to focus on being there for others and treating everyone with love and kindness. People will often respond in kind, but even if they don’t, you’ll still feel good about trying to help others and make their lives a little brighter. 

I know for me, when I’m focused on helping others like this, I worry less about whether I’m being obnoxious or not, because it doesn’t seem to matter as much. And to be honest, it probably actually doesn’t matter as much as you think. Sure, some people aren’t going to like you. But some people will. And if you never show anyone who you are, they’ll never know whether they like you or not. So you might as well try.

One more thing: I can think and talk and write about this all I want and maybe it sounds good, but in practice, it’s just hard, and that’s okay. I know for me, when I’m dealing with a rough patch with my mental and physical illnesses, I tend to isolate myself even more than usual. Whether it’s anxiety overwhelming me, depression paralyzing me, or my immune disease just plain making it impossible to plan or do anything, it’s usually the same result — I withdraw into myself because reaching out feels way too hard. When I look back at the past few years, it’s been a patchwork quilt of all those things and consequently, my friendships have suffered. It’s easy for me to heap blame on myself about it, to berate myself for being too lazy and scared. But in reality, my mental and physical illnesses are not my fault, and they do make it hard. Your social anxiety, and whatever else you may be struggling with, makes things hard, too. You can’t change the hand you’ve been dealt, and you can’t change the past. To quote a dear old wizard named Gandalf, “All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.” So, if you can, do your best to ignore the inner voice tearing you down, pick yourself back up, and try, try again — and give yourself plenty of grace when you fail. You’re doing what you can.

And I’ll be right there with you, working on doing the same. :)