#I get to talking about coffee and I feel like I sound so pretentious but I promise I drink shitty iced coffee and enjoy it as well

[alltimefail-sims]

More asks in my inbox means more rambling from yours truly!!

Questions and replies below the cut ↓

"A cool person" omg?!?! You're so sweet, I'm bubbly over here! Thank you so much!!

YES I love to hear that for you!! That's great that you could save some of your favorite sims at least; I am attached to my sims too, there are several I would be gutted to lose, so I totally get where you're coming from. They sound like an adorable couple, and I love occults so that alone is a great selling point haha.

I think it's okay to talk about your sims/take pride in them like they're your child lmaoooo. Basically,

I don't have a lot of thoughts on the EA refreshes; I think they're just okay. I end up making all my townies over anyway, so really it doesn't matter what EA decides to do lmao. It might just be a personal preference, but I would like it better if they would just drop one big batch refresh instead of doing these little ones here and there. I didn't love the Goths aside from correcting their skin tone which was absolutely necessary: I felt the same rage with whitewashed Bella and have ranted about it multiple times on this blog lol.

One thing that bothers me: if you age Alexander up he looks horrendous...like unworkable and not even favoring either parent. They definitely still aren't being mindful of what children will look like when you age them up and that is...wild to me. As for the Caliente household, I thought their refresh was an improvement and I totally agree that the refreshes as a whole provide a far more workable base for makeovers than their previous looks did. In fact, I didn't even touch the old Caliente household because I thought they were too far gone lol. It wasn't until the refresh that I decided to add them to my Pleasantview dump! (Sans Katrina because I do not know that woman!) Only complaint about them is I thought they reflected Nina's personality poorly in the makeover - she would never be a villainous valentine!

That is not lame!! Chaos is what keeps the game interesting and no one brings the heat like Nina and Dina!

I don't, I only know the one by MizoreYukii thepancake1. They haven't updated it yet, but keep an eye on their Patreon - they're usually pretty quick to get it back up and running after a patch.

That's so tough, I mod my game to hell and back lmao! Here's a few of my faves that I can think of off the top of my head in no particular order:

UI Cheats Extension

MC Command

Granny's Cookbook by @littlbowbub (I make a lot of families and foodie sims, so having a large variety of foods is important to me!)

Healthcare Redux

Relationship and Pregnancy Overhaul by Lumpinou

Wonderful Whims by Turbodriver

Honorable mention to LittleMsSam for their mods - I have so many of them I couldn't pick just one, but I think they're one of the best modders in this community. I especially love the random small bug fixes such as "Strangerville Scanner Battery Lasts Longer" or "Buy Pet Treats via PC." Those tiny things make a big difference!

I'm a coffee person, I love all types of coffee really but the darker the roast, the more I enjoy it. My favorite kind of coffee would be a hot, dark roast made fresh in the French press with a light amount of creamer - preferably something vanilla or caramel. My favorite bagged coffee right now is LavAzza, but I've been working on a bag of Starbucks Cinnamon Dolce and it's been surprisingly good! (A lot of their bagged blends taste way too bitter, almost burnt to me, so I don't typically go for those despite the big name.) During the holiday season I'll admit that I love a little sweet treat coffee here and there that is really more dessert than drink though lmao.

As for tea, I am trying to like tea more but it's an uphill battle I'm afraid. I love a hot apple and cinnamon tea when I'm sick or when I need to heal my voice though!

#I get to talking about coffee and I feel like I sound so pretentious but I promise I drink shitty iced coffee and enjoy it as well #I am a little trash goblin of a human and proud. Don't let my coffee sensibilities fool you #Thank you for your asks!!! #atfs ask #anon

[sebbycha]

Always ask first - Toto wolff AU Part 2

Summary : It's just being a FAKE sugar baby what could go wrong… right?

Pairing : Toto wolff x Tatiana Sinclair (Oc)

Author notes : I made some adjustments to Toto Wolff's age (40) and portrayed him as never having been married before.

Chapter 1: A Chance Encounter

Tatiana sat in a dimly lit corner of the café near her Oxford campus, her head buried in her research notes

Her blue hoodie and faded jeans reflected her indifference towards her appearance, She looked like the typical stressed-out student, feeling utterly drained from her deep dive into Energy and Propulsion Physics research.

"Ugh, I can't believe I'm still stuck on this project," Tatiana muttered to herself, her fingers tapping nervously on her laptop's keyboard. Her body felt like it had been through a whirlwind, and she was on the brink of tears. "I'm so burned out."

Just as Tatiana contemplated her life choices and the sheer exhaustion she felt, a sudden commotion broke her concentration. It sounded like an argument, and her curiosity got the best of her.

She glanced over to see an elegantly dressed woman engaged in a "heated" exchange with a man. It was hard to miss her striking appearance, but Tatiana didn't recognize her, and she only caught a glimpse of the man.

The woman did all the talking, while the man responded with an annoyed huff. Unfortunately for her, the man seemed more bored than genuinely interested in the conversation.

Overhearing their conversation, Tatiana couldn't resist eavesdropping.

The woman was boastfully bragging about her new boyfriend and flaunting her wealthy lifestyle, prompting Tatiana to roll her eyes at such a pretentious display.

As the (ahem) 'conversation' between the woman and the man continued, Tatiana decided to take a break from her research.

She couldn't concentrate with all the drama happening right next to her. She closed her laptop and approached the café counter to order a much-needed coffee.

While waiting for her coffee, she overheard the woman say, "Well, you should see my boyfriend. He's working on a groundbreaking project here at Oxford. It's going to change everything."

Tatiana raised an eyebrow. Her curiosity got the best of her, and she discreetly tried to get a better look at the man the woman was talking about. To her shock, she recognized him instantly. It was Toto Wolff.

As the conversation between the woman and him continued, Tatiana couldn't help but overhear snippets of their discussion.

the woman scoffed, "Honestly, you are always so busy with your work. You never have time for anything else, unlike my current boyfriend."

Tatiana's gaze met Toto Wolff's for a brief moment, and she couldn't help but feel empathy for him. She thought to herself, "It must be tough for him, mature people problem indeeed”

Feeling a bit stiff from sitting for too long, Tatiana stretched her arms upward, inadvertently locking eyes with Toto Wolff once more. This time, his expression appeared almost pleading

Tatiana looked at him, feeling sorry for his predicament, and thought to herself, "Should I help? What excuse can I come up with?"

After a moment, Tatiana continued to observe Toto Wolff, quietly saying to herself, "I'll lend a hand. Don't blame me if anything goes wrong."

Tatiana adjusted her clothes, though there was nothing much to fix.

She approached Toto and the woman, adopting a youthful demeanor "Daddy, I had no idea you were here all this time. Sorry, I've been so caught up with my work," Tatiana said as she sat down next to Toto and put her arm around him.

Toto gave Tatiana a surprised look, and Tatiana responded with a look that seemed to say, "I've helped you out, just play along."

The woman in front of Toto looked startled and glanced at Tatiana.

Tatiana pretended not to notice the woman and continued to speak to Toto, "Daddy, uh, I mean Toto, who is she, is she your friend?”

HA, as if she had accidentally let the word "Daddy" slip from her lips.

The woman introduced herself as Lilibeth Thornwood, and Tatiana pretended not to recognize her as Toto's ex. They engaged in small talk, exchanging pleasantries.

In the midst of their conversation, Lilibeth dropped subtle hints about her close past with Toto, saying things like, "Oh, you used to love this dish," as she tried to create a scene.

Toto, feeling increasingly uncomfortable, urged Lilibeth to stop and said, "Lilibeth, we are over."

But Lilibeth remained unconvinced and began reminiscing about their passionate history, insisting, "We may have broken up, but there's still an undeniable connection between us."

Suddenly, Tatiana burst into tears. She dramatically exclaimed, her voice quivering with a hint of anger and sadness, “Toto, are you leaving me for her? Are you here to secretly meet her?” She let out a convincing sob. “I can't believe you'd do this. I thought what we had was special”

Tatiana continued to fake her surprise and sadness, her tears flowing freely. Toto, seeing her reaction, panicked and tried to comfort her, feeling cornered by the intense drama unfolding before him. He didn't know Tatiana's name, so he use a safe way around it

“Baby, please don't cry” even though it sounded incredibly awkward coming from him. He reassured Tatiana, “I won't ever leave you. I didn't mean to run into Lilibeth here” with a firm conviction in his voice, embracing her fully in a bid to console her amidst the escalating melodrama

Lilibeth began to feel increasingly uncomfortable as she watched Toto and Tatiana engrossed in their dramatic exchange. It was as if they were in their own world, and she started to realize that her presence had disrupted something between them.

Trying to come up with an excuse to leave the café, she glanced at her phone and feigned surprise.

"Oh my, would you look at the time!" Lilibeth exclaimed, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible. "I just remembered, I have a meeting I can't miss. It was lovely catching up with you, Toto."

Toto, somewhat relieved by the prospect of Lilibeth leaving, quickly responded, "Yes, it was nice seeing you, Lilibeth."

With a polite nod, Lilibeth made her exit, leaving Toto and Tatiana to their own devices. 


After Lilibeth left the café, Tatiana let out a quiet "Finally."

However, just as Tatiana started to gather her things, her phone alarm suddenly went off, startling her. She realized she had a class to attend and was running late. In a hurry, she rushed back to her table to tidy up her belongings.

Toto followed her and thanked Tatiana for her help. Tatiana replied, "It's okay; you have no idea how much I wanted to try crying in public like this. I've needed a release lately."

As Tatiana was about to leave, Toto tried to stop her, wanting to continue their conversation. He insisted on offering her something in return, but Tatiana declined, saying she didn't need anything.

Tatiana was almost late for her class, but she quickly jotted down her phone number on a piece of paper and handed it to Toto. "I'm so sorry, but I can't afford to be any later to my class, and my professor is really strict. If you ever want to talk or discuss anything further, you can reach me at this number. Even though you don't have to contact me, as I mentioned earlier, we're even. I'm glad I could help and deepen my acting skills today. Bye, Toto. It was nice to meet you, and yes, don't look surprised, I know who you are, and no, I will not be revealing this in public... well, maybe. Anyway, once again, goodbye”

#toto wolff x oc #toto wolff #toto wolff x reader #f1 x reader #f1 instagram au #formula 1 imagine #f1 smau #Toto wolff from sebbycha

[corvase]

when writing: banter

it’s been super long since i’ve done one of these so let’s pretend i am a super great amazing talented award-winning writer and just hear me out.

i think one of the biggest mistakes with writing banter is that people often mistake a character just being pretentious and annoying with being witty. like your character isn’t witty or dry, they’re pessimistic and cynical in the worst way possible.

additionally, in order to write banter, the characters have to compliment each other in some way if that makes sense ?? (not that anything i say does).

like, two people who don’t have the same humor to some degree are not going to be able to play off each others jokes in the same way two people with the same humour would.

so firstly, how to avoid your characters sounding pretentious? put simply, avoid banter that puts people down negatively— or i should say, at the bare minimum, the person they’re talking to or about should know they’re being facetious.

an example:

character a: “i think i’ll wear the pink gloss today. he said he liked pink, didn’t he?”

character b: “i think you should stop obsessing over what he thinks of you and grow a backbone.”

character a: “oh, but i heard those are hard to come by these days.”

character b: “not if you know where to look.”

this isn’t the best example but it does show that character a knew character b was being facetious and therefore the joke came across as such.

secondly, characters playing off each other!!!!!

i think what gives characters good chemistry, whether platonic or otherwise, is giving them a reason to be around each other. why is it YOUR characters are the ones going back and forth? why does it need to be them? what’s special about them and their situations that they play off each other so well?

if there’s no answer to this… what’s the point? it could’ve been any other character; it didn’t have to be yours.

so what are some things to think about to help with chemistry?

things to consider:

do your characters have any inside jokes?

do their inside jokes come up often? in specific situations?

how long have they known each other? does it play into their comfortability with repartee?

this is a little tricky of a subject but what pop culture references can be made? for example, a jeopardy reference always gets me

is their banter usually based around them and themselves, or is it poking innocent fun at someone else?

how can you build on their environment?

how can you use wordplay to your advantage?

are there any similarities in what they’re going through in their lives?

prompts yay!

“how long do you think it’ll take for them to notice their glasses are on their head?” “give or take a couple years.” “years? i was thinking millennia.”

a response of “i’ll take Things That Never Happened for 500” when the other character says something bogus

or even “i’ll take Things You Should Take Up With Your Therapist for 200”

“okay, FINE, i’m leaving!” “oh, so there is a God?”

“what’s that show? that one… you know? with the…” “anytime now.” “the girl who like, fights crime ??? or something??” “you’ve almost got it.”

it’s raining and the character that likes to point out the obvious (which is so me) says “it’s raining!” and the other character is like “give the guy a medal.”

“wait, you’re getting back with your ex? the carpenter one?” “no, the mailman.” “oh, he was awful.” “yeah, but he always delivered my packages on time.” “… fair.”

literally anything from fleabag for inspiration

remember: banter isn’t always between enemies; it could be between friends who’ve known each other a while, or even strangers who are both waiting for their cup of coffee and go back and forth. for me as a reader and writer, a good banter scene makes you feel smart for both writing it and understanding. it makes you feel like you’re in on a joke with the characters and it’s the type of thing you would read and do that little nose air laugh (if u know u know).

anywho~ i hope this helped even a little. happy writing :)

#how to write banter #writing banter #IM BACK W WRITING ADVICE BABES #writeblr #writing #writing tips #writing advice #writing romance #writing prompts #dialogue prompts #dialogue writing prompts

[the-badger-mole]

Hallmarks of the Season: Part 3

The rest of the morning was a flurry of family time. Hakoda had closed the mechanic shop he and Sokka ran for the day, and Kanna came by with a tray of baked goods she had made the night before. As promised, Katara sat with her grandmother and showed her the most recent pictures she had with Zuko. The wedding came up, of course, and Katara had to disappoint Kanna by telling her that they hadn't even decided where to get married let alone when.

"Don't wait too long to set a date," Kanna warned Katara. "That's how you end up engaged for ten years."

"We're not planning on a long engagement," Katara laughed. "We wanted to enjoy this part for a little bit and then talk about dates, but then this whole mess with the investor happened, and I don't think either of us has had the mental capacity to even think about considering wedding plans. Honestly, I'd rather just pay someone else to plan it."

"Now, where's the fun in that?" Kanna huffed.

"You know I hate planning parties," Katara said. "I'd be happy to marry Zuko at a courthouse then go out for noodles afterwards."

"No way!" Sokka exclaimed. "You're marrying a jillionaire! I expect to be served steak and top shelf liquor at your wedding!"

"Sokka, don't be crass!" Hakoda tossed a dishtowel at his son. "I need to be on Zuko's good side, so he'll put me in a nice retirement home." He winked at Katara.

"I'm starting to regret inviting Zuko," Katara grumbled. "I need you two to find some couth before he gets here."

"We will be on our best behavior for his Fieryness," Sokka promised sarcastically. "You might want to give Toph a heads up, though. You know she can smell pretentious trust fund kids a mile off." Katara reached for the dishtowel Hakoda had thrown and smacked her brother in the head with it.

"Zuko's not pretentious," she said. "He's a bit stuffy, but that's just his introversion manifesting."

"Everything is going to go fine, honey," Hakoda promised.

"Yeah, assuming he actually shows up this time," Sokka muttered.

"Sokka!" Kanna scolded him with a swat to his arm.

"What?" Sokka nursed his arm. "We're all thinking it. I just said it!" Hakoda glared at his son and motioned at Katara with his head. She looked at her brother stricken.

"He-he's been working to get this company off the ground for five years," she explained quietly. "He doesn't mean to cancel last minute, but he's been working on this for a long time."

"We understand, Kat," Hakoda said, hugging his daughter. "It was the same when I was trying to get the mechanic shop off the ground. Lot's of long nights and missed trips, but it got easier to balance work and life once we were off the ground." Sokka reached out and patted Katara's arm, looking like a chastened child.

"I was only messing with you," he said apologetically. "Honestly, Zuko seems like a great guy. I guess...I just want to know that he makes you a priority, too."

"He does," Katara insisted. "He's incredibly thoughtful. He came by my apartment last week to drop off my favorite coffee on his way to fly out for a business trip. He surprised me with a picnic dinner on the roof when we both had to work late. And not just to me that he's like that with. He works insane hours to keep the business running, but he makes sure that everyone else feels free to leave at five. The whole reason he's not here right now is because this cashflow issue is threatening this month's payroll, and he just wants to make sure everyone gets their money before the holidays.

"He does sound wonderful," Kanna said. "If you say he's worthy of you, then I will take your word. I can't wait to finally meet him in person."

The conversation drifted away from Zuko after a few more minutes to the possibility of getting together with Toph and Aang, then to Sesi's martial arts class (she insisted her aunt come see her practice). Soon the afternoon drew on, and Hakoda began to make preparations for dinner that evening, and Sokka and Katara started preparing to head for the school. Katara went up to her room to grab her purse and paused to check her messages. There was nothing from Zuko since he'd confirmed she'd made it to her father's house safely. She tried to ignore the sharp pinch of disappointment in her stomach as she sent a short message to him.

Miss you😢💖

-:-:-:-:-:- The dojo stoon on what Katara remembered being at different points in her childhood an arts and crafts shop, a music store, the headquarters of a short lived farming MLM, and an even shorter lived ballroom dancing studio. The Kyoshi School of Martial Arts had been open for a bit over two years, and the head instructor was an ex-military officer who's short stature belied her intimidating reputation. Katara could immediately tell her brother was smitten.

"Sifu Suki!" Sesi ran up to the instructor and nearly dragged to Katara. "This is my Auntie Tara! She's getting married!"

"Congratulations!" Suki said hiding a bewildered laugh. "It's so nice to finally meet the famous Katara. Your brother and niece have nothing but great things to say about you."

"You've made quite an impression on Sesi yourself," Katara said. "She couldn't wait to introduce us."

"I see!"

"I told Auntie that I wanted to be just like you and just like her," Sesi told Suki. "But she said that it's better to be just like me, even though it's okay to be..." Sesi scrunched her nose and tried to remember Katara's words. "...to be perspired by you." Suki had to hid another laugh as she patted Sesi's head.

"I think you mean inspired," she corrected Sesi. "And she's right. Being you is the absolute best thing you can grow up to be. Now, go get changed. We're starting warm ups soon." Suki spared one last smile for Sokka and Katara and went to prepare for class.

"She's cute," Katara said when Suki was far enough away. Sokka shot her an arch look.

"Should I warn Zuko he's got competition?"

"Oh, please," Katara scoffed. "Are you telling me you're not into her? You were doing that weird thing where you try not to stare but then end up staring super hard."

"Knock it off," Sokka shoved her lightly. "It's not like that. Sesi likes her, and she's been a great teacher. I...I respect her."

"Respectfully love her," Katara muttered. Sokka scowled at her, but there was no heat in it. His eyes drifted over to where Suki was passing out small wooden fans to her students, and his gaze softened. Katara nudged him and smiled knowingly.

"Seriously, I can't think about dating right now. I've got Sesi and the shop..." Sokka's voice trailed off as he tried to come up with more examples of his busyness.

"I'm not saying run off and marry her," Katara said. "You don't even have to tell Sesi that you're interested in her. I'm just saying, if you like her, see where it goes." Sokka grunted noncommittally and studiously kept his eyes away from Suki. Katara eyed her brother with concern. After a moment she poked him in the side.

"Hey, are you alright?" she asked. Sokka turned to her in surprise.

"I'm fine," he said. "Why?"

"I don't just mean right now," Katara said. "I know you're still grieving Yue, and I know that grief doesn't have a timeline, but you know that she wouldn't want you to put your life on hold out of loyalty to her. You loved her well when she was with us. It's okay to move on now." A few emotions rippled across Sokka's face, as if he were deciding whether or not to be angry with Katara. Then he let out a long breath and seemed to deflate.

"It's not just about Yue," Sokka confessed. "I miss her terribly, and sometimes I get so angry because she doesn't get to be here for...this." Sokka gestured around the room, lingering on Sesi. "It's not fair that she doesn't get to remember her mother. I don't want her to have to live through a parade of would be mothers who just... leave."

"So do what Dad did," Katara said. "Only introduce Sesi once you're sure it's going to last."

"Right," Sokka let out a bitter laugh. "Remember how that turned out?" Katara shuddered. When she was a freshman in high school and Sokka was in his junior year, Hakoda introduced them to Malina, his girlfriend of nearly a year. Malina immediately tried to take over as their mother. She was oddly intense in her insistence of reorganizing how their home was run and trying to forcibly bond with Hakoda's kids, despite him assuring her he wasn't looking for a replacement mother for them. The final straw was when she replaced a family photo with Hakoda, Kya and the children with a picture she'd forced them to pose for on a trip to an amusement park Katara and Sokka were far too old for. Hakoda never told them what he said to Malina, but they never saw her or her photos again.

"That was one time!" Katara said.

"And Dad has never introduced us to any of the three women he's dated since." Sokka folded his arms and shook his head. The class had started. Suki was guiding the kids through their warm up exercises. Every so often, Sesi would look over to make sure her father and aunt were watching. Katara would wave and motion for her to pay attention.

"You can't let that one experience color how you feel about dating," Katara told Sokka. "I don't want to push you into anything. I just want to make sure you know, dating is allowed." Sokka shrugged and huffed, but Katara could see his gaze still lingering on the pretty martial arts instructor.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

"Auntie! Did you see when I knocked down the dummy?" Sesi danced excitedly, holding onto Katara's hands.

"I did!" Katara grinned at her niece. "You are getting really good!"

"You're exactly who I want on my side in a fight," Sokka said. "Go get changed. Grandad made your favorite for dinner." Sesi cheered and rushed off to the changing room. Suki walked over to Sokka and Katara.

"She really is improving fast," Suki told them. "I think she'll be ready to move up a level in a few months."

"She's going to be thrilled! And...and of course, she wouldn't be learning so quickly without having such a great teacher." Sokka's voice was just a bit too high, and his smile just a bit too wide. Katara had known her brother to be a massive flirt in his younger years, but it had been a long time since he'd asked Yue on their first date. It was clear he was out of practice. Katara smiled to herself.

"So, Suki, how long have you been in town?" she asked.

"Oh, about three years now," Suki told her. "I used to live in Kyoshi, but I was stationed not to far from here when I was in the military. I fell in love with the area, and when I got out of the service, I thought I'd try to settle here."

"Yeah, this place is really amazing," Katara agreed. "I loved growing up here. The community is really warm."

"Yeah," Suki shrugged reluctantly. "I mean, I have a great rapport with my clients, but I don't know...I feel like I haven't found my people yet." Katara clicked her tongue in sympathy.

"I know what you mean," she said. "I live in Ba Sing Se now, and it took me a while to find really close friends again. The first few years had some really lonely stretches."

"It's been really hard to feel like I've put down roots," Suki admitted. "I've been so busy with this place, that I just haven't had time. But I'd love to find people to just hang out with."

"Well, you're in luck!" Katara said. "Sokka and I are meeting up with some old friends in a few days. You should join us! Our friend owns a barcade in town, so if we ask nice, she might let us play on some of them for free." Suki's face lit up with excitement at the thought.

"The Badgermole?" she asked. "I've walked by that place so many times, and I always meant to stop in."

"Well, now you have a reason." Katara nudged Sokka forward. "I'm only in town for a few more days, but you should take Sokka's number. He can let you know all the details, and keep you looped in when other fun stuff is going on in town." A flush bloomed on Sokka's face across his nose and to his ears, but he managed a friendly smile as he put his number into Suki's phone. Suki was called away a moment later by an insistent mother who loudly demanded to know why her daughter wasn't getting Suki's undivided attention during the lesson.

"You are too meddlesome for your own good," Sokka said once she'd gone.

"What?" Katara shrugged. "Suki needs friends, and you're local!"

"I don't need you to hit on women for me." Sokka scowled down at his sister. "That was humiliating."

"Oh, please," Katara snorted. "She's coming to a casual hang out with your sister and high school friends. It's not like I asked her to marry you. And you gave her your number. Ball's in her court if she even wants to come out."

"Whatever," Sokka grumbled. Sesi emerged from the changing room and bounded across the room towards them. Sokka scooped her up and they headed for the door. Suki caught Sokka's eye and waved at him. Sokka grinned in spite of himself and waved back. Katara regarded her brother with a knowing gleam in her eyes, which Sokka did his best not to notice.

"I think the phrase you're looking for is thank you," she said out the side of her mouth.

One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six

#atla #holiday feel goods #zutara #sukka #hallmarks of the season

[mamamittens]

Congrats~! This is for the milkshake event if possible ;u; “Hi! Buggy and I would like a toffee milkshake with cookies and cherries on top. And a red bean mochi as well please! Add pineapple upsidedown cake as well if you have some, if not thats okay!The order is under my nickname Pia, I'm a very plain but kind 25+ girl which brown hair, green eyes, pale skin. I just started growing my hair out and stopped wearing my glasses to avoid looking too nerdy. Thank you!

Done! One more to go!

I uh... wasn't sure who was supposed to get oral, so both of you get it. And it's longer cause I ended up moving scenes and thought a bit of car sex sounded hot, ig.

Hope you don't mind what is likely a slight change of order. Or the delay!

Warnings: Implied yandere/possessive behavior, dom Buggy, Oral (male and female receiving), technically public sex, guided masturbation, talk about sexual fluids in coffee but not done, and technically car oral sex but it's on the hood? idk, I'm sure there's a name for that somewhere.

Word Count: 2,897

Pia hadn’t expected to enjoy her time as a barista in a quaint coffee shop. The sea of terms and ingredients and ‘secret menu items’ making her dizzy during her first few weeks. But it brought in rent money and that’s what really mattered at the end of the day. Even with how insufferable her coworker was, she found herself enjoying the routine.

Never quite the same every day, but still somehow predictable nonetheless.

Buggy—yes, that was his name and he almost deserved it—was the strangest man she’d ever met. Weirdly pretentious but insecure about his nose, he was constantly butting into her conversations as she tried to make good tips. Usually by just being a bit too nice to people. It ended up with a lot of paper slips in her personal tip jar that Buggy would ruthlessly fish out and shred in the garbage while glaring at whoever was brave enough to try.

“How about you tip something actually worth something for once?” Buggy sneered at an older man who ordered a black coffee and seemed a bit too proud of the fact for someone ordering at an artisanal coffee shop. He’d also put in a single, solitary dollar so Pia was uninterested in leaping to the embarrassed man’s defense.

Buggy never stole her tips though, so she didn’t care about the numbers she never got to read. She personally thought it was stupid to put them in the tip jar as well. It only took up room that actual money could be using and discouraged people from tipping her more cash.

“Are you going to insult every customer that tips poorly?” Pia asked curiously about halfway through her shift with him.

Buggy snorted, yanking his ponytail to tighten the elastic, vivid blue hair curling around his fists.

“They earned it. If they’re going to be obnoxious the least they can do is make it worth your while. Anything less than a twenty deserves to be trashed!” Pia whistled.

“Wow. So how many numbers have you kept?” Pia asked curiously. Buggy gave her a confused look. “You made a rule about it, Bugs. Of course I’m assuming you’ve gotten some before.” His face flushed and he refused to look at her suddenly. Pia cackled, almost commenting when the bell jingled in the doorway. A small group walking in and cheerfully chatting away.

“Hey! What fine, cup of art can I make for you today?” Buggy declared, throwing his arms wide and forcing her to duck suddenly. Pia glared at him and resolved to tease him ruthlessly about either his lack of numbers or abundance of them.

Hey, Buggy was weird, but there was no denying he was attractive. Eyes and jaw sharp under the shadow of an ever-present scowl despite his bright red nose. Or perhaps because of it. Unfairly beautiful blue hair that inspired her to grow hers out from a pixie cut. When she first started working here, Pia felt like a forgotten background character. Some poor nerd intended to sulk in the back of a booth instead of serving foam latte art.

This feeling was made worse by how plain she felt with her large glasses. Having done away with those in favor of contacts, Pia had gotten several compliments on her green eyes. Buggy huffed about it for a whole week though so Pia assumed it was because she had a better chance of getting tipped instead of him. It certainly seemed the case because he was now very watchful of how much people tipped her.

When the group left, Pia turned on her heel and grinned.

“So.” She smiled and Buggy huffed, turning his back to wash out some cups.

“No.”

“No? You’re really going to gatekeep how successful you are, Bugs?” Pia teased, hugging him from behind. He tensed, neck red as he growled.

“Clean the damn tables, Pia!”

“Alright, alright! I’ll go clean the tables~ No need to lose your head about it!” Pia declared, pulling away to do her assigned task. Nearly the rest of the shift was tense and awkward as night fell. A few more people wandering in until it was nearly time to close.

Buggy clicked his tongue, glaring at the clock as he walked over and locked the door. Switching off the welcome sign as he did so. Clouds had rolled in a few hours ago and slowly gathered overhead until a steady drizzle pattered against the glass.

“Huh. Looks like a proper storm rolling in. You got a ride home, Pia?” Buggy asked over his shoulder as she wiped down the tables and put up the chairs to sweep and mop.

“Nope. You know I’m still saving up for a new car, Bugs.” Pia declared. He clicked his tongue.

“Fine. We’ll finish cleaning up and I’ll give you a ride.”

“Thanks, Bugs!” Pia beamed, receiving an eyeroll. She glanced at her tip jar and laughed. “Hah! Looks like you missed one! Guess I’ll keep it then.” Pia smiled, fishing out the slip of paper wedged between bills.

Buggy whipped his head around and hissed, stomping over to try and swipe it. But Pia held it away, angling her body to block him.

“Throw that trash away!” Buggy sneered.

“No, why should I? What if I think he was cute?” Pia asked, laughing at how disgusted Buggy looked.

“Cute?! No one who came in today was cute! Are you really going to take some random guy’s number—do you even know who it was?!” Buggy demanded, pulling her against his chest to try and yank her arm closer.

“No… but I know how I can find out~!” Pia sang, laughing as that only seemed to rile him up more. “Man, you’re really bothered about it, aren’t you?”

“Of course I am! That sleeze doesn’t need to talk to you at all!” Buggy snarled, finally yanking her arm close enough to pluck the paper from her grasp. He promptly swallowed it whole.

“Buggy! That’s so gross!”

He seemed to think so as well, given how he grimaced immediately.

“Worth it. Remember, no less than a twenty to even consider keeping his number.” Buggy declared. Pia laughed.

“Where’s my money?” Pia asked. Buggy paused, eyes narrowed. “You know, for keeping yours.” Pia teased.

Buggy huffed.

“That doesn’t count. I’m actually trustworthy of having it. Unlike the losers that come in here panting after you.” He huffed.

“But I thought the privilege had to be earned? I don’t remember you doing anything for that!” Pia primly huffed.

“Actually, you gave me your number first. So really, you owe me.” Buggy stated and his eyes widened in shock.

“Ohoh~? I owe you, huh? What’s it going to take then? What’s Buggy’s price if mine’s a twenty? Fifty? A hundred?” Pia pushed. He flushed, squeezing her closer before realizing what he had done and stumbling back.

“W-Why’s my price going up?! Shouldn’t it be going down?” Buggy asked, flustered.

“Because you’re a catch, Bugs. Duh.” Pia rolled her eyes and sauntered off for a broom in the back.

“A catch?! WHAT?!” Buggy thundered after her into the storage closet, slamming the door behind him. “What do you mean by that?!”

Pia wrinkled her nose.

“Where’s the riddle, Bugs? I said what I said.” Pia stepped back only to hit a shelf, Buggy’s hand slipping around her waist to keep her steady.

For a moment, Pia didn’t realize why he’d stopped talking. Too busy looking at the floor where rags and cleaning bottles littered the floor. The room smelling strongly of bleach.

“Would you?”

Pia looked up at Buggy.

“Would I what?”

“Catch me? S-Since I’m a catch, does that mean—I mean—are you?” Buggy asked, even in the dim light she could see how red his face was.

Pia realized how close they were. How private the supply closet was.

“…If a ‘sleaze’ has to earn the right for me to keep their number, does that mean I should be doing something so you keep mine?” Pia asked coyly. Buggy rubbed his hand over her back, eyes narrowing with understanding.

“You feeling ‘sleazy’ about me, Pia?” Buggy whispered. “We’re coworkers but that’ll cost you… extra.”

Pia chuckled softly, slowly falling to her knees. Her eyes never leaving his as she searched for a sign he didn’t want this.

“Then I guess I better get started on your tip.” Pia smiled and Buggy let out a ragged breath.

“Y-You better.” Buggy breathed out as he tossed away his apron while she slipped off his belt. Tugging his work pants to his ankles along with his boxers.

His cock sprang free with dark blue curls around the base. Thick and curved, the head was flushed a deep red. His hands shook as he cupped her face, grinding the leaking tip across her cheek. She pressed her lips to it and blew softly, chuckling when he visibly shuddered.

“Y-Yeah, b-better be your best work for such a nice privilege, Pia.” Buggy sighed as she slipped her tongue under the heavy tip, sucking it slowly into her mouth. “Ssssshit~!”

His cock throbbed as she gripped his thighs as she rolled her tongue over his cock. Wetting it to slip past her lips with lewd, damp sounds. The thick veins throbbed under her lips as she slowly took him deeper. Relaxing her jaw as his tip dragged over the roof of her mouth before bending to the back of her throat. His breathing harsh and rapid while he struggled to speak.

“F-Fuck, Pia please, I-I—hnnngh~ a-ah!” Buggy whined, his thighs tensing as his pubic hair started to tickle her nose, hips shoving his cock into the hilt suddenly. His hands gripped her head, pinning her in place as he moaned noisily. “W-What a fucking mouth! P-Pia~!” Buggy slowly pulled his cock free from her slick lips and fed his cock back to her lips. Gently fucking her moaning throat.

He tasted salty and warm, a musky growing as his cock leaked over her tongue.

“H-How good of a tip are you giving me? I-I’m about t-to—ooooh shit!” Buggy whined as she gripped his thighs and pulled his body to her. Smashing her nose into his crotch as he threw back his head with a long, low moan. Cock pulsing over her tongue as she swallowed down his cum. “T-Too good, P-Pia! Aaaah it’s too good!”

Despite his protests, he allowed her to finish him off. Both of them gasping for air when she final relinquished him.

“Good enough, Bugs?” Pia asked, batting her eyelashes demurely. Buggy shook his head and a fire of excitement settled in her chest. “No?”

“Too good…” Buggy panted. “I owe you change. But first, let’s move this somewhere I don’t feel my braincells dying.” Buggy smirked.

“Where? This is the only place without cameras and I doubt you want to talk to the manager about committing lewd acts in the workplace.” Pia commented breezily, helping him pull up his pants and tucking his still hard cock back in place. He paused at that. “You forgot about the cameras, didn’t you?” Buggy hissed before something occurred to him.

He grinned, opening the door.

“Let’s clean up and we can go to my apartment.” Buggy declared. “If you do a good job, I can pay you back there.”

Pia’s heart thundered and she raced off with a broom, his laugh following her in a sharp burst.

She’d never cleaned up so fast before in her life. The rest of the closing duties completed by Buggy who seemed just as eager to get out of there.

But when they left, racing to get out of the rain, Buggy clicked his tongue. Stopping her from getting in the passenger side.

“Back. I want to see you without taking my eyes off the road for too long.” Needless to say, she complied. Buckling into the middle seat as he started driving slowly through the rain. “Touch yourself for me but don’t take anything off. I want you wet when I pull into the garage without getting a ticket for public indecency.”

Pia grinned, leaned back in her seat and slipped her pants down just enough for her hand. Her fingers dragged across her clit into a pool of wetness that clung to her panties.

“I’m already wet, Bugs.” Pia informed him quietly. Buggy glanced back at her through the rearview mirror with a smug look.

“Like my cock that much, huh? Still not good enough. I need to hear you from up here.” Buggy commanded. “Make a mess and you’ll get more than just a tip.”

Pia moaned, instinctively rubbing her clit as she struggled to maintain her cool.

“Oh? Like hearing me tell you what to do? I knew you learned well for a reason. I guess it’s time for some extra training~” Buggy cooed, smirk never leaving his lips. “You rubbing your clit for me? Good. Keep doing it. Slide your hand in deeper—deeper, that’s it~ warm your pretty fingers. I bet your pussy is hot right now, isn’t it?” Buggy sat up to look at her lap. Her legs splayed open as she fingered herself to his command.

“Y-Yeah~” Pia agreed softly, sinking her ring finger in deep, heart pounding against her chest.

“How many fingers are you warming up back there?” Buggy asked huskily.

“O-One…”

He clicked his tongue.

“Make it three. Now.” Pia jumped, jamming two more in with a moan. “Gotta work my pretty pussy a little more. We’re almost there. Now, I want you to fuck your hand for me, Pia. Tell me how good it feels to do what I say.”

Her whole palm was soaked, three fingers jammed into the tight, cramped space as she moaned. The meat of her palm grinding against her clit as she rolled her hips up.

“I-It feels good, Buggy. I’m so wet but I can barely fit my fingers. I know you’d do it better though—oooh~!” Pia whined as Buggy abruptly tapped the breaks at a stop sign. She could hear her hand slip and smack over her cunt. “A-Are we close? I-I need it to be cloo—ooooh~!”

Buggy huffed.

“Saying shit like that will get you in trouble. Of course, I could do it better. I’m the only one that can do it right. But I wanted to see you try and get off for me. Can you, Pia? Keeping playing with my pussy, just a few more blocks and I’ll show you how it’s done right. Take off your pants. If you’re not soaking the leather, I’m taking you to your place.”

Pia moaned, struggling to kick her pants into the floor along with her shoes.

Just as Buggy pressed a button to open the garage—Pia barely registered the quiet neighborhood Buggy lived in—Pia spread her thighs and ground against the leather seat. Cunt slipping in a puddle of her arousal.

Buggy parked, closing the garage door with a click before turning around in his seat with a grin. Openly admiring how she stuffed her fingers back into her cunt to show she followed his command.

“I-Is this good enough?” Pia asked with a whine, rolling her hips into her palm as wet smacks filled the car.

Buggy unbuckled and leaned in to yank her hand free with a wet pop. Watching her cream stretch between her fingers and cunt before licking them clean.

His tongue was hot as it wrapped around her fingers, laving across her palm to lick up every drop of arousal.

His eyes locked with hers, dark and hungry.

“Oh, it’s perfect~” Buggy purred, reaching down to unbuckle her before clambering out of the car.

Dizzy, she stumbled after him, neglecting to grab her clothes. Only to be pulled and laid out across the hood of his car. Rain water soaking the back of her shirt and thighs as he parted her legs. Without another word, he swiped his tongue clear up her cunt.

“My pretty pussy, you don’t need those dirty numbers when you can call me anytime.” Buggy cooed into her sopping cunt before devouring her. His tongue driving between her folds and grinding into her clit.

Pia wailed, pulling his hair free as he ate her clean out.

“B-Buggy~! A-Aahhhn~oh~OH~!” Pia threw back her head as he drove his tongue into her cunt, utterly filling the space she struggled to breach with her own fingers. He pulled her waist closer to him as the sound of her wet pussy filled the garage. A wail cutting through the air as she squirted on his tongue.

Her senses cut out suddenly. Returning in waves of static as she trembled, still draped over Buggy’s car as he licked her quivering cunt delicately.

“—only cream I want from now on is right here. I should fix up a cup and let your cunt drip into it. Call it ‘Seventh Heaven’, how about that? Wanna be my little creamer?” Buggy chuckled into her pussy. “I’m the only one who gets to have this, you hear me?”

Pia whined, looking down to see him staring at her with an intense gaze.

“Y-Yeah…” She whispered hoarsely.

“Who owns this pussy? Who's the only one allowed to make you cream?” Buggy demanded, slowly dragging her down the hood until his cock pressed against her cunt.

“Y-You!”

He grinned sharply.

“Me.”

#shake date #one piece smut #buggy X OC #Buggy smut #yandere smut

[looseferrets]

A Raccoon's Fragmented Audiobook Reviews 2023-ish: Part 2

[Art of my raccoon self Geo Holms realizing that Tumblr posts had a picture limit of 30. Art by @reoisready]

Oops, found out when adding covers to this that there's only 30 pictures per entry, so here be the second part of my fragmented audiobook reviews. May you find the rest insightful, vaguely amusing, or confusing. Raccoon sounds of approval and all that.

Hollow Kingdom by by Kira Jane Buxton

Premise: A pet crow attempts to find his way in a zombie post apocalypse.

Brief Raccoon Thoughts: The premise is interesting, this book frustrated the hell out of me to the point I gave up on it, picked it up months later, then almost gave up on it again. Plays with the frustrating trope of zombie stories where "anyone can die" in narratively unsatisfying ways. Plus the narrative feels as if its spinning its wheels for much of the book. Bah. I really wish I liked this book more. At least the crow is non-metaphorical.

Recommended for: Zombie fans, corvids.

Cloud Atlas by David Mitchell

Premise: A nesting doll narrative of six different characters in six different eras/genres.

Brief Raccoon Thoughts: Greatly enjoyed the movie and wanted to check out the source material. The audiobook has six different narrators (one for each character in book) which really helps sell the nesting-doll nature. In the end, I like the movie more, which in some ways lands the themes of the book better than the book does, though this still good book to visit.

Recommended for: Souls on a journey.

Open Throat by Henry Hoke

Premise: A queer (???) mountain lion waxes about Los Angeles culture.

Brief Raccoon Thoughts: Literary pretentiousness to the point of being insufferable with occasional moments of brilliance. The main character being called "queer" is a bit of a stretch. He's a male cougar who once daydreamed about getting it on with another male cougar. That's the extent of it. There's also a very weird extended daydream of the cougar visiting Disneyland.

Recommended for: Queer-ish cats.

The Long Way to a Small, Angry Planet by Becky Chambers

Premise: A spaceship of quirky characters travel a long way to a small, angry planet. Relationship fluff along the way.

Brief Raccoon Thoughts: This is pretty light and frothy sort of sci-fi, focused more on the interpersonal interactions of a crew on a long journey, interrupted by occasional sci-fi conflict along the way. I admit I enjoyed this greatly because I turned to this when frustrated with the crow-surviving-zombies book.

Recommended for: those who wanted Firefly to be more soft and fluffy.

Mexican Gothic by Silvia Moreno-Garcia

Premise: A woman visits a v cursed mansion to save her cousin from a v cursed marriage.

Brief Raccoon Thoughts: Pure absurd gothic horror grounded by a sensible main character who does her darnest to escape those gothic horror trope clutches. And I was totally here for it. Great book.

Recommended for: Those looking for the slow burn gothic horror vibes

Legends and Lattes by Travis Baldree

Premise: An orc retires from adventuring to open a coffee shop.

Brief Raccoon Thoughts: Pure fantasy fluff and love it. Yeah, there be some conflict along the way, but this mostly about an orc opening a small business, and opening herself up to new friends to assist her along the way (and maybe looooooove?) Also: Thimble is <33333333

Recommended for: Coffee connoisseurs.

Temeraire (1-6) by Naomi Novik

His Majesty's Dragon

Throne of Jade

Black Powder War

Empire of Ivory

Victory of Eagles

Tongues of Serpents

Premise: Napoleonic war with dragons.

Brief Raccoon Thoughts: Read the first three or four books of this many years back, wanted to revisit. The series has dragged at times, but overall has been a treat. Mostly for the dragons. The dragons are the best. I'm a sucker for dragons who talk and have actual personalities, and this series has those in spades. (Beware of Tongues of Serpents though, damn that book dragged. Needed to take a break for a few months after that one.)

Recommended for: Cows, just come closer, yep, that's right...

Freelance Familiars (1-3) by Daniel Potter

Off Leash

Marking Territory

High Steaks

Premise: A man is turned into a cougar and enters the magical realms as a familiar freelancer.

Brief Raccoon Thoughts: This is very Dresden Files, for the better AND the worse. Thomas is an engaging and fun main character to see this world through. I read the books a while back, and was fun to go back through via audiobook. Will def read through the back half of the series soon to see where it all goes.

Recommended for: Those waking up on four paws.

How to Sell a Haunted House by Grady Hendrix

Premise: After their parents' unexpected death, a brother and sister attempt to sell their parents' (haunted) house.

Brief Raccoon Thoughts: Nitpicking raccoon here: this isn't so much a "haunted house" story as it is a "haunted puppet" story. I guess the puppet mostly haunts the house, but not exclusively. Just wanted to get that out there in case you were looking for a haunted house tale. The book as it is pretty entertaining (the brother's backstory with the puppet legit the best part of the book), with some mixed execution at times.

Recommended for: Taxidermists(?)

Emmy and the Incredible Shrinking Rat by Lynne Jonell

Premise: A girl finds a talking rat.

Brief Raccoon Thoughts: Really hits those Roald Dahl vibes well, including a pretty fun karmic justice ending for the villains.

Recommended for: Those looking for YA Roald Dahl vibes

Bookshops & Bonedust by Travis Baldree

Premise: An orc is waylaid by an injury, helps out a foul-mouthed ratkin bookshop owner in meantime.

Brief Raccoon Thoughts: This being a prequel to Legends & Lattes, manages to hit the same fluffy vibes of that one, focusing on the main character from that one at a much different place in her life, giving some perspective on her character journey. Also the foul-mouthed ratkin is <3333333

Recommended for: Those looking for swearing rodents

Welcome to NightVale by Joseph Fink and Jeffrey Cranor (unfinished)

Premise: Uh...weird stuff happens at Nightvale.

Brief Raccoon Thoughts: I didn't finish this one. I was used to the NightVale podcast, but listening to a NightVale novel was a dash...overwhelming. May try it again later. Wouldn't say the novel was bad, just more than I was willing to handle at the time.

Recommended for: Those looking for longer episode of Welcome to NightVale.

Odder by Katherine Applegate

Premise: Collection of poems following an otter named Odder.

Brief Raccoon Thoughts: Since I listened to this, I didn't know until AFTER that it was actually a collection of poems. I just thought all the chapters were weirdly short. Still, was pretty neat way to tell the story of a sea otter's life.

Recommended for: Otters!

Starter Villain by John Scalzi

Premise: A man inherits his uncle's villain enterprise.

Brief Raccoon Thoughts: This book reads as 95% setup with 5% percent payoff (if even that). There is legit a LOT of clever ideas presented in this book, and it keeps pretty darn entertaining, but it really never commits to his core conceit, much to the book's overall detriment. I kept looking forward to what the main character did with his newfound villain resources/reputation, and I still be waiting.

Recommended for: Would-be villains

Top Five Audiobooks of 2023

Nettle & Bone by T. Kingfisher

Legends and Lattes by by Travis Baldree

Mexican Gothic by Silvia Moreno-Garcia

The Amazing Maurice and His Educated Rodents by Terry Pratchett

The Long Way to a Small, Angry Planet by Becky Chambers

In case you ran across part two first, here is link to Part 1.

#audiobook review

[jananakookie]

Beauty Drabble | Unexpected encounter

Warnings: swearing

Word count: 1.7k

Summary: Someone comes knocking on your door, trying to make amends.

☞ This is a drabble for my Beauty Series

Unexpected encounter

Since Sunhee and her husband, Jihoon and Eunji decided to go to the movies today and were kind enough to invite Hyejin, you finally have some time to yourself.

You're kind of happy because you don't often get the chance to take care of yourself, and you already have a lot planned for the day.

What wasn't a part of your plan, however, is that after only seventeen and a half minutes of freedom, there would already be somebody knocking on the door.

Well, that’s just typical. You don’t get much me-time, but when you do, it’s short-termed.

Plastering a welcoming smile onto your face, you open the door and are more than surprised when you see who is standing in front of you, dressed in an oversized black hoodie, hood pulled over his head, and dark sunglasses covering his eyes.

“Oh… Jin? What are you doing here?”

You, of course, recognize him immediately - even with that insanely good disguise of his which you don’t even comment on. Instead, you’re far too concerned with trying to not sound too rude, even if you weren't exactly hoping to see him so soon again.

Yes, the way Taehyung threw him out just like that all these months ago wasn’t what you wanted, and you always wished for them to rather talk it out than keep fighting but you don’t wanna be alone with him either since he makes you uncomfortable.

Jin immediately smiles at you, using his signature cover-boy grin. “Can I come in, please?” He asks, keeping his head down as if anyone would be able to see him up here.

“Uh… okay. Why are you dressed like this?” You ask, trying to see his eyes even with those huge sunglasses that are sitting on his nose.

“This is my undercover outfit. So no crazy fans or paparazzi will catch me,” he chuckles, shrugging.

You plaster a smile onto your face and nod, taking a step to the side to let him enter. “Right. Sorry. Come in.”

Making enough space for him to walk through the door, you take a quick look around the floor before getting in yourself, and closing the door behind you.

“Wow. Nice place, ___,” he smiles, taking a look around while taking off his hood.

“Thanks.” You merely sigh, feeling pretty uncomfortable with him here. “Uhm… I really don’t wanna sound rude, but what are you doing here, Jin?”

“Look, ___, I want to… I wanted to apologize. To you. My behavior and what I said—”

“You were just honest,” you shrug. Oh, how you wish Taehyung was here with you. This is so awkward.

“No. I wasn’t honest, I was mean. Let’s say it how it is. There is no need to sugarcoat it,” he snaps, though it’s clear that it’s not you, he’s angry at. “You didn’t need my useless opinion, you didn’t ask for it either, but that’s what I always do. I make other people feel bad to feel better about myself.”

Finally, in the safety of your home, he feels secure enough to shed his ridiculous disguise and show himself to you for the first time since your argument a few months ago.

Admittedly, it’s weird to see him like this. Him - the robot-like guy, who never showed any real emotion and never appeared to be anything but cocky and pretentious. Taehyung would be annoyed if he knew, but you cannot help but feel sorry for him.

“Okay, maybe that’s something we should discuss over a cup of tea? Coffee?” You offer, grabbing his arm softly to lead him to your kitchen.

“Coffee, if it’s not too much to ask,” he says in a small voice before he takes a seat at your table.

A light chuckle reaches your ears, making you turn around in wonder. “What’s so funny?” You ask him.

“Nothing. It’s just that… you’re still being nice to me. After everything.”

“It’s really not that bad, Jin. I’m used to people having… opinions,” you shrug. “Most of them don't wrap it up as charmingly as you do, though,” you chuckle.

“It wasn’t my opinion, ___. I don’t think you should change anything about yourself. I’m just… I’m an asshole.”

“Maybe a little one,” you send him a smirk while looking over your shoulder as you make the coffee, and he laughs. You’re happy the atmosphere is a little lighter and seems less forced, but unfortunately, it doesn’t stay like that for long.

“The truth is, everybody hates me.”

You almost drop the cup when you hear him say these words, turning around instantly, but he doesn’t look at you. Instead, his gaze is set on nothing in particular as he looks like he’s in a daze.

“Don’t say that. That’s not true.”

“Oh, but it is.” He snorts, but there’s no humor in his face or his voice. “I have no family, I have no friends. I have no one, really.”

“That’s not true. You have so many fans that love you, remember? You told me that before.”

“Yeah, right. And you told me that’s different, which it is,” he sighs, shaking his head.

“But what do I know? I don't even have fans,” you state, trying to make him loosen up a bit. “How should that be different?”

“Well, you tell me. You were a fan, right? And then you got to know me. So tell me, ___, how likable am I really?” He looks at you knowingly while you’re struggling to find an answer for a few seconds that feel like hours.

But you finally sigh, taking the finished coffee out of the machine and placing one cup in front of him while you take the other. “I do like you, Jin-”

“Can’t lie to a liar.”

“No, but it’s true! You’re here. You said some things to me that really hurt me, but now you’re here to apologize. Not many people would do that.”

“I just… tried to act like a decent person for once,” he shrugs.

“Everybody starts small. You did it and that’s all that matters,” you say, showing him an honest smile.

“It was always different for Taehyung, somehow,” he continues to talk after returning your smile with one of his own. “Everybody always liked him. No matter if it was neighbors, teachers, friends, or our nanny. He had them all wrapped around his finger in a matter of a few minutes whereas me… well, I never had that much luck with people. I always figured everyone was just jealous of me, you know?”

You laugh at his bold but very much expected statement, making him grin slightly.

“But as I grew older and came into contact with people who were more like me, working in my business, I realized that they just don’t like me. Not because of my talent or my looks. They didn’t like me because of me.”

You’re just about to say something to that when you’re interrupted by another voice coming from the hallway.

“Must be a hard pill to swallow to finally come face to face with the truth, hm?”

You look up at the same time Jin turns around, looking at Taehyung casually leaning against the wall.

“Hey, when did you come here?” You ask, a little perplexed since you both haven’t even heard him come in.

“Couple minutes ago. Didn’t wanna interrupt,” he shrugs, before fixing his gaze back on his brother. “You mean all that?”

Jin nods his head, looking determined. “Yes, all of it,” he confirms. “I spend a lot of time reflecting and thinking about this, trust me. I’m aware that I was a dick to you ever since… well, ever,” he clears his throat taking a moment to collect himself. “I came here to apologize to ___ but also to you. I was hoping we could start working on our relationship if you’re up to it.”

“You know that it’s not that easy, right?” Taehyung scoffs, eyes turning into small slits as he glares at his brother. “We didn’t just have a fight. There are years of mutual loathing between us.”

Honestly, you want to smack your boyfriend for being so hard-headed, but he's too far away, so you just send him a glare that does get noticed but not acknowledged by him.

Luckily, Jin does not seem to mind, judging by the small chuckle coming from him as he looks at his little brother.

“You have always been venomous.” He sees Taehyung’s frown getting deeper, and him wanting to say something back, but he quickly hinders him from it. “I don't expect you to invite me to a Sunday brunch with the family, but I was hoping we could start small. Baby steps, you know?”

Taehyung cocks a brow with his arms interlocked in front of his chest. “Like?”

Jin purses his lips while thinking of something. “For example, I was planning on sending you a birthday text for your birthday next week,” he then shrugs, making you frown in confusion.

When he said, baby steps he really meant baby steps, huh?

“My birthday was last month, you ugly dipshit.” Taehyung seethes, not looking amused in the slightest, while Jin’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

“Oh! My bad… Happy late birthday then,” he smiles anyway, seemingly unaffected by the new information.

You have to suppress a laugh, seeing Taehyung so agitated, not knowing what to do with his asshole of a brother. His mouth opens and closes a couple of times, but no words come out. “You’re the worst. I can’t even stand talking to you.” He groans loudly, before turning around and walking in the other direction, leaving you and Jin alone again.

Jin glances at you, seeing how you look rather amused by all of this. He gives you a look, silently asking you the same question his brother didn’t give him an answer to, and you immediately understand, shaking your head with a small smile on your lips.

“That’s him being civil, so he’s willing to try,” you explain, making Jin’s smile instantly grow bigger.

Who would have guessed that making amends would be so easy?

#taehyung drabble #taehyung au #taehyung x reader #kim taehyung #bts #taehyung #taehyung fluff

[effortandmore]

a match made in heaven (knj x pjm)

pairing: namjoon x jimin

genre: coffee shop!au, fluff, hopefully humor

rating: teen

warnings: namjoon overthinks things, slang/swearing, there is the mention of a threesome existing

word count: 2.8k

summary: It’s well past dark on a frigid December evening, and Kim Namjoon is over it. He’s been a good sport, he’s played along, and now he’s just… done. If he hadn’t been getting terrifying death-stares from Yoongi each time he even thinks about getting up from the café table, he would have already been long gone.

a/n: this short fic was written for @chemicalpink for the @bangtansecretsanta exchange. Hi Marinette, I'm your secret santa, Menorah! Have some fluff and my attempt at silly humor in a coffee shop. I hope you enjoy this, and I hope you have a lovely holiday season and a happy new year! thank you to jess, @the-boy-meets-evil for reading this over for me, you are my one true love. And thanks to @ugh-yoongi and @hot-soop and Jess again for the brainstorming that produced this idea—I’m so lucky you all talk to me 💜 this is cross-posted to ao3 here if you prefer

It’s well past dark on a frigid December evening, and Kim Namjoon is over it. He’s been a good sport, he’s played along (even though he’s known all along that this hare-brained plan wasn’t going to work), and now he’s just… done. If he hadn’t been getting terrifying death-stares from Yoongi each time he even thinks about getting up from the café table, he would have already been long gone.

One more date, he tells himself. Just one more of these ridiculous speed dates, and he’ll be free. He can go back to being sort-of-miserable and a little lonely, but instead of putting up with those feelings in the middle of this café, he can wallow in them in the comfort of his own home. 

Hoseok and Yoongi mean well, he knows that. The execution has been a little lacking, is all. The road to hell is paved with good intentions and all that. Of course, no one wants to watch one of their closest friends struggle, and Namjoon has definitely been struggling the past few months. Actually, scratch that. He was fine until the last couple of weeks when all the cutesy, coupley Christmas stuff started appearing everywhere. He was supposed to be in a couple—every advertisement with people kissing turned into a superimposition in his mind: himself and Minsoo replacing the print models. 

Kim Minsoo, ex-boyfriend, giant asshole, and the person Namjoon was supposed to be moving on from. And, for the most part, he had. He didn’t really miss Minsoo; didn’t miss his condescending tone, the way he wanted Namjoon to dress a certain way or hang out with certain people or enjoy certain things. Ultimately, Minsoo wanted a clone, not a boyfriend, and Namjoon had enough self-worth to walk away when Minsoo suggested Namjoon forego his own birthday celebration to go to some pretentious work function that didn’t sound fun, interesting, or important enough to Namjoon. 

So, here he is, approaching Christmas single, which is objectively fine. Namjoon can be a bit of a misanthrope anyway, so even if he weren’t single, he’d probably still find a way to be a little sad. It’s not like there aren’t wars and global warming and the general understanding that we can’t ever escape the existential dilemma to be moody about even if and when you’re getting good dick regularly. 

But his best friends and former college roommates, Yoongi and Hoseok, think he needs to “get under someone new to get over Minsoo.” They’ve gone so far as to make it into a chant that they ungraciously repeat to him in English over the phone almost daily. It’s his own fault for teaching them the phrase, but in his defense, he was trying to tell them he didn’t need to “get under someone new.”

Their unwavering belief in the healing power of cock has brought him here, to Slice of Heaven (Heaven for short), the small café they own in Hongdae, where he has sat through three “speed dates,” and has one more remaining. He’s consumed more chocolate cake than anyone should be allowed to, but Hobi’s devil’s food is really beyond reproach (even if Namjoon sort of thinks a café with a theme is cheesy)—it can’t be helped if he thought each of his dates should at least try it. It’s just that now he’s full and a little antsy from his sugar high, and tired of unsuccessful dates. 

Their original plan was to send him to some massive world record-breaking speed dating event that happens every year around this time, but Namjoon had been able to shoot that idea down fairly quickly. Sure, he’s an extrovert, but there’s a zero percent chance of him sitting through something like that without wanting to sink into the floor. So, here he sits, awaiting his fourth suitor, who absolutely won’t be the man of his dreams (because he’s decided that soulmates probably don’t exist anyway, and monogamy is a construct, and even if you had one person, how would you even find them and what if they didn’t speak Korean… his English isn’t that good and neither is his Japanese even if he’s willing to study more), someone who Hoseok knows through the dance classes he takes. 

At least he likes hanging out in their shop usually; it’s a good place to work and study, steadily busy but never too loud. And the first three dates had been handsome (if not otherwise bad fits for him), and from what Namjoon’s seen of Hobi’s dance friends, bachelor number four has high odds of being nice to look at, too. 

Date number one was sort of a warm-up, Yoongi claims. Namjoon had laughed when Jin walked in and plopped into the chair across from him. 

“You’re sitting in my date’s chair, you know?” he asked his hyung. 

“Yah, I know, Joon-ah. I got the looks and the brains.” He leans forward conspiratorially. “Don’t tell my brother.” 

“Well, you should move. He’s going to be here any minute. And according to Yoongi, he’s a real catch.” 

Jin’s loud, bright laughter fills the shop. “Yoongi, did you make a fishing pun about me?” he calls over his shoulder in Yoongi’s general direction. 

“About… you?” Namjoon is thoroughly confused, because there’s no way that his hyung, his friend, Seokjin is his first date. They’d even already tried dating once in college before Jin decided that Namjoon was never going to wake up early enough or be optimistic enough to be anything more than a good friend. 

Jin bows in his seat dramatically. “Your knight in shining armor.” 

Namjoon thunks his forehead against the table. “You’ve got to be joking,” he whines.

“Lighten up, Namjoon-ah. What if we have chemistry?” He curls his crooked fingers into air quotes around the word chemistry. 

“Our chemistry is like the hydrogenation of succinonitrile…” 

“Use words,” Jin says impatiently. 

“It’s how you make putrescine… it smells bad?” Jin’s just staring at him with his mouth open, giving him the ‘I’m about to roll my eyes so hard you’re going to regret you’ve ever said any words to me in your life’ look. “Nevermind,” he tacks on.

“Already forgot what you said, since it wasn’t actually words,” Jin replies.

“Go home, hyung.” 

Seokjin crosses his arms and leans back in the chair. “You’re turning down all this?” He asks as he looks down at his own torso. 

��Yes. One-hundred percent, absolutely turning you down. Go home.” 

“Fine.” He sighs before looking at Yoongi over his own shoulder again. “Mission accomplished.” 

“What mission?” Namjoon asks. 

“They maybe thought that if I was your first date, the other three would look better after. Which is definitely a you problem, Namjoon-ah. Anyone else would jump at a chance with me. Just so we’re clear.” 

Namjoon stifles a laugh behind the arm of his sweater. “We’re clear, hyung. Anyone but me would be lucky to date you.” 

And with that, “date number one” ends as Jin gets up, and Namjoon watches Yoongi and him bicker over the counter about what takeout to get for dinner. 

The Seokjin part of the plan worked at least a little bit, because when bachelor number two shows up, and he’s not one of Namjoon’s friends or exes, it’s a pleasant surprise. 

Jeon Jungkook is bright, kind, and objectively beautiful. Namjoon likes him immediately.

He’s a regular at the café—he works as a graphic artist and likes to sit in the corner and work on freelance projects. Namjoon knows he’s seen those big, bright eyes before. He tells Namjoon that he was thoroughly confused when Hoseok had asked him about going on a date with Namjoon. 

“He walked right up to me while I was on the phone with a client, and he asked if I was free on Friday night.” 

“And he didn’t tell you for what?”

Jungkook blushes. “No! And I’ve barely even spoken to him before. I just see him and Yoongi-ssi making out behind the counter when they think no one’s watching.” 

Namjoon would have been surprised that Jungkook’s even sitting here across from him after being propositioned by a stranger, but he remembers how convincing Hoseok can be when he wants something. “But you came anyway…” he says.

“Well, yeah. At first, I thought he and Yoongi had broken up or something,” he says shyly. “And, to be honest, I wouldn’t want to get involved in something like that. I see them together like… every day.” 

Namjoon nods.

“But then he told me about you, and… this is embarrassing…” 

“More embarrassing than having your friends set you up on blind dates because they think you’re too lonely for Christmas?” 

Jungkook purses his lips. “Actually, no.” 

And Namjoon laughs so hard he almost shoots americano out of his nose. “Fair,” he says when he catches his breath. “So, what’s embarrassing?”

“ThoughtyouhadnicethighswhenIsawyourpicture.” Jungkook’s words come out fast and strung together, and he blows out a long huff of air when he’s finished. 

“Oh,” Namjoon says, sheepish. “Thanks.” 

“Told you it was embarrassing.” 

“It’s really not,” he replies. “I’m flattered.” 

Jungkook gives him a bright smile in return, finally looking up from his lap where his eyes had been fixed almost since he sat down. They talk about their lives a little more, conversation eventually landing on the subject of their dogs, and Namjoon knows it might not work out between them when he says, “Honestly, I spend more time mad at Moni than not.” 

His date looks absolutely appalled, and Namjoon doesn’t even get a chance to explain before Hoseok is standing next to the table asking if they had a nice time. Jungkook says he did, but excuses himself quickly and doesn’t bother to get Namjoon’s number or leave his.

“I’m failing, Hobi,” Namjoon laments. 

“Don’t worry, two more to go!” Hobi says, patting Namjoon enthusiastically on the shoulder. 

The third date isn’t much better, because Taehyung definitely thinks he’s there to date Hobi, not Namjoon. Actually, he seems to think he’s there to date Hobi and Yoongi. And they don’t seem to have a problem with that, either. 

He’s watching some strange flirting take place between the three of them, and Namjoon is pretty sure he could manage to escape before the fourth date without Yoongi and Hoseok noticing. They’re completely distracted by Taehyung. 

So, it’s totally understandable (he thinks, anyway) that he’s over this speed dating thing. One was his ex, one basically thinks he’s an animal abuser, and one looks to be gunning for a threesome with his best friends. Three strikes and you’re out, right? He’d feel a little guilty about bachelor number four, but not enough for him to stick around.

He’s weighing his options, deciding how he can slip out undetected, when the tinkling of the bell above the entrance pulls Namjoon’s attention just in time for him to witness an angel walking in. 

This isn’t an exaggeration. 

Making his way into the café is maybe the most gorgeous human Namjoon has seen in his entire life, and he’s got honest to god angel wings on. He knows he’s in trouble when he hears himself actually whimper. He knows he’s really in trouble when the angel whips his head around toward Namjoon because apparently he had also heard the pathetic noise. 

The smile he gives Namjoon, though, is worth all the embarrassment in the world. It’s almost a smirk, and under some circumstances it would look borderline predatory, but even if it were, Namjoon thinks he’d be okay being this guy’s prey. One side of his (very plump) lips quirks up and his cheeks become infinitely pinchable and his eyes somehow narrow and darken and sparkle all at the same time. Namjoon’s having a really hard time looking away, and he’s sure it’s creepy at this point, but the half-angel, half (very good looking) man is looking right back at him, so maybe it’s okay to stare. Just this once. 

It’s not clear to him how it happens, but soon the angel is standing over him, although it occurs to him that Namjoon is seated and the angel is standing and he’s still not exactly being towered over or anything. So pretty and small, is all that Namjoon can think. 

“Are you Namjoon?” the angel says in his equally angelic voice. 

“Are you an angel?”

He laughs, loud and bright, before trying to maneuver himself (wings and all) into the chair across from Namjoon. “No,” he says, “and it didn’t hurt when I fell, either.” 

“Huh?” Namjoon is sure that somewhere in his brain are complete sentences and polysyllabic words, but they simply don’t seem to be accessible right now. 

The angel puts his elbows on the small table and rests his chin in his hands. He watches Namjoon with something that looks like curiosity, and the smirk he’s been sporting never really leaves his face. “It didn’t hurt when I fell from heaven,” he says, shaking his wings playfully. 

“Oh… That’s good…” 

“‘I’m Jimin. Park Jimin, your date. I think you’ve been waiting for me?” 

Namjoon is so happy he didn’t have time to sneak out of the café. “For my whole life,” he mutters, face flushed. He doesn’t think Jimin hears him, but luck has never really been on his side.

“Cute,” Jimin whispers back. 

This is a rough first impression, he’s sure. Of course Hoseok’s friend isn’t just pretty, he’s literally perfect. Namjoon isn’t sure what he did in life to deserve sitting across a table from Park Jimin, but he knows he needs to get his shit together yesterday if he doesn’t want to waste his shot. 

He clears his throat. “It’s nice to meet you, Jimin-ssi. Can I get you something to drink? Cake? The devil’s food is really something.” 

Jimin grins again, somehow even more brightly, and Namjoon decides speed dating isn’t the worst thing that’s ever happened to him. He reminds himself to thank Hoseok profusely later. “You think someone in my condition should be seen eating devil’s food cake?” Jimin shakes his wings for the second time, and Namjoon can’t help but laugh. 

Turns out, Park Jimin claims he isn’t actually an angel (although Namjoon thinks he’s still not convinced of that), but a ballet dancer who’s featured in the winter season’s big show for his company in a role that requires him to wear wings. He’d been wearing a different pair around to help his body get used to moving in them, and apparently it worked, because he claims he didn’t even realize he still had them on until Namjoon asked if he was an angel. 

In the thirty minutes they’re together, Namjoon learns a few things. Jimin absolutely glows when he talks about dancing, he’s a really good listener (putting up with Namjoon’s unfortunate introductory rant about monogamy and gender roles and actually seeming interested), and most of all, he’s kind—getting up to open the door for an older man with a walker, and quietly wishing him a good night. 

Namjoon is enamored. 

“Time’s up,” he hears Yoongi say from behind the counter. 

“No,” Namjoon says, almost reflexively. He likes Jimin too much already and the time has flown by. The objection earns him another almost-smirk from Jimin. ”I mean… if you aren’t busy or something… we could keep talking… if you wanted…” 

Jimin’s smile turns a little shy and he nods. Namjoon thinks it's cute. “I’d like that.” 

“Cool,” Namjoon says, a response definitely reflective of his high iq and general put-togetherness. 

“Very cool, hyung,” Jimin agrees. “You wanna get out of here? Hotteok?”

Namjoon gives an enthusiastic nod. He’s suddenly hungry again now that it means spending more time with Jimin. “It’s my favorite.” 

“Something sweet for someone sweet,” Jimin says as he stands. Namjoon positively beams. People call him a lot of things: smart, interesting, tall… not every often does he hear the word “sweet” ascribed to him. He suspects he could get used to it.

He knows he’s just smiling blankly at Jimin, lost in his own thoughts, in how downright pretty Jimin is, in the way Jimin seems to be just as into staring back at him. Then he hears a chorus of groans coming from the general area of the coffee shop counter. Hoseok, Yoongi, Seokjin, and even Taehuyng who he doesn’t know are all watching him and Jimin gather their things to leave. 

“What?”

Yoongi doesn’t answer him, just turns to Hoseok and says, “We’ve made a mistake.”

Hoseok and Jin nod. “He’s even worse when he likes someone,” Jin says.

“Hey!” Namjoon protests. It’s weak though. They’re not wrong. He tends to get infatuated quickly. “Sorry,” he says to Jimin. “They’re the worst.” 

Jimin just grabs his hand and threads their fingers together like they’ve been at this for ages. “They’re just jealous,” he says, loud enough for them to hear. 

“Yeah?”

“Of course, hyung,” Jimin says as he tugs Namjoon toward the exit and looks up at the name of the bakery in glittery golden letters on the door. “We’re literally a match made in Heaven!” 

#bss2022 #bangtan secret santa #btswritingcafe #btswritersclub #namjoon fic #jimin fanfic #namjoon x jimin #bts fanfic #bts imagines

[winterdawnzephyr]

late night talking // radio silence; aled x daniel

Summary: A stressed-out Daniel calls Aled in the middle of the night (day?) for emotional support. As late night talking goes, their conversation meanders. Set after the events of Radio Silence.

Word count: 1778

Link to AO3 post

It was 3:54 AM and Daniel was not okay.

Tipping back his head, he drained the third can of cold brew he'd had that night -- or was it morning? -- and slammed it down on the last remaining spot amidst his pile of chemistry notes. A stray droplet landed on the past paper he was working on, staining the godforsaken diagram of the Born-Haber cycle brown.

"Jesus fucking Christ," he groaned. Elbows resting on his pages of calculations (most bearing red slashes from his cold-brew induced fits of rage), he dug his eyes into the heels of his palms and resisted the urge to cry.

He had been stuck on Hess' Law questions for the past hour. They weren't even difficult. He just kept making stupid mistakes -- not changing positive signs to negative, forgetting to half the enthalpy of atomization of Cl2, missing the state symbols. Cambridge didn't accept people who made stupid mistakes. What if he didn't get an A* in Chemistry because of this? What if, after working his ass off the last 10 years of his life, after doing all those readings and passing his interview, they rejected him because a stupid mistake bumped him down a grade?

He imagined giving up his plan to get a PhD in Biology and pursue research to work in his father's electronics shop, fixing gadgets and mending computers or whatever his father does. Fuck, that sounded pretentious. He always felt a stab of guilt whenever that thought crossed his mind -- which was not uncommon. There was nothing wrong with working in an electronics shop, except for the fact he felt a small part of himself die inside at the thought of giving up his lifelong passion. No more lab coats and goggles. No more ... how did Frances put it? Right, "skeletons and bacteria and stuff".

There was no way he was letting Hess' Law ruin his chances of getting into Cambridge. He couldn't let it. This dream was all he had.

Well, not exactly.

Daniel did the only thing he could think of in that moment. He picked up his phone and dialled his lifeline.

┈┈┈┈․° * °․┈┈┈┈

"Hey," Daniel said hoarsely. It just registered to him that it was 3:54 AM and he had probably just woken Aled for no reason. "Jesus, Aled. sorry. It's so late --"

"Dan, are you okay?" Aled's voice, soft and concerned, crackled through the speakerphone.

Somehow, just hearing their voice was enough to make tears well up in his eyes. He thought if he kept them in any longer, his eyes might burst. So he let them spill.

"Chemistry. Chemistry is ruining my life." All the numbers and formulae and diagrams laid out before him grew fuzzy. He could feel a drop of tear fall and join the brown stain on his past paper. Wonderful.

Aled stayed quiet, giving him time to collect himself. He could imagine Aled with their eyes wide like a puppy’s, their eyebrows raised just a touch – they always were when Aled was worried.

Daniel took a big gulp of air. His breath smelled disgustingly like one too many cans of cold brew. Well, I guess one good thing about Aled being so far away is he can't tease me about my coffee breath.

"It's just- my exam's in a week and I- I can't mess this up. I need to get an A* in Chem. I can't still be struggling with Hess' fucking Law this close to the exams. And I keep making stupid mistakes like mixing up plus and minus" He wiped an eye and let out a laugh. "This is so stupid. I feel stupid. Sorry, I shouldn't be calling you this late for this."

"It's okay, I was up anyways." They paused. "You're not stupid. But you're also more than your grades."

"I know," he whispered. "But everyone already knows I got an offer from Cambridge and I'm scared I'll fail and- and let everyone down and- “

"You won't let me down."

I love you so much.

"I..." Daniel faltered. Why couldn't he speak?

But he knew Aled, of all people, understood. They knew how it felt for thoughts to be coiled up in the dusty corners of your mind for so long that you’re afraid giving them a voice would break them.

At least, for now.

“Thanks,” he said quietly.

"If I didn't know you better," Aled said gently, "I would tell you to sleep."

"I had three cans of cold brew."

"Dan!"

"Shut up, I get it-"

"Coffee Breath," Aled teased.

Daniel shook his head and smiled to himself. Well, guess I was wrong.

“How could you? Don’t you dare insult cold brew in front of me again.” They both chuckled. “Anyways, there is no way I'm sleeping now. The caffeine is blocking my adenosine receptors and my brain is setting off fireworks."

"You’re such a nerd."

"And you’re a hypocrite. Why are you up at this ungodly hour?"

Aled was silent for a moment. “Do you remember the YouTube Live! thing that contacted me?”

“Yeah?”

“Well…” he said, sounding half excited, half nervous, “I may or may not be doing a live show for Universe City in August?”

Daniel sat up straight, almost knocking over his three cans of cold brew.

“For real?”

“For real.”

“Aled, that’s great. When did you find out?”

“Just two days ago!” Aled said quickly. “I was going to tell you, but you’re busy enough with exams and have much more important things to worry about and-”

“Hey, stop right there,” Daniel chided them softly. “If I get to call you past 4am and have you deal with my anxious ass, you can tell me about your literally life-changing show no matter how much Chemistry is screwing with my life."

"Maybe," Aled replied sheepishly. “If you say so.” Are they… embarrassed?

Daniel felt a small pang at the thought that Aled might have been nervous about sharing the news with him. Of course, Aled had always been reserved, but there used to be no secrets between them. Then he remembered the arguments they had because he stupidly refused to believe Aled actually liked him, and felt another spike of shame.

Stupid of me to think they would be comfortable sharing everything with me, he thought ruefully, then stopped himself.

Something he’d been learning lately was that none of this was any one person’s fault. They could both feel endlessly guilty for being arses in their own ways – Aled for literally going radio silent on him, himself for being unimaginably obtuse – but what would be the point? They were past that. They’d agreed to be more open with each other, but these things took time. And Daniel would wait, however long it takes.

Shit happens - that’s life. He was just glad Aled was back in his life so they could brave this mess together.

“I’m proud of you. For restarting Universe City. For doing the live show.”

And Daniel meant it. God knows he loved every single facet of Aled Last, but he especially loved the version that was completely themselves, who was passionate and creative and wonderfully weird.

He wished the rest of the world to witness that version of Aled as well.

“Thanks,” Aled said shyly.

They cleared their throat. “Well anyways, since it’s a live show, I want to do something special. So I’ve been expanding our song. I want it to fit the new storyline I have planned before the show. Do you… do you want to hear it?”

“Yeah! Yeah, of course.”

Aled turned on their video call, and Daniel followed suit.

Aled looked much better than they had four months ago. Their cheeks had gained back some of its baby-like roundness. Whereas their hair was limp and dull before, it was now soft blond blending into pastel pink at the tips, which were just past their shoulders now. Since Frances had told him about the haircut incident with Aled’s mother, he had stopped teasing them about cutting their hair. Draped over their shoulders was their city-skyline blanket, under which they wore a T-shirt with two dinosaurs kissing.

In short, Aled looked really cute, and Daniel kind of wanted to kiss them.

Since he couldn’t, he said instead, “Is it just me, or are those dinosaurs on your shirt being really gay?”

“You mean, like us?”

They both chuckled.

It took Alex a while to fumble with something on their computer. Then they mumbled “Here goes,” and the backing track the two of them recorded so long ago started playing — Aled on the drums, himself on the bass — and then Aled started singing and he was mesmerised:

There’s nothing left for us any more

Why aren’t you listening?

Why aren’t you listening to me?

There’s nothing left.

But old sport, take my hand

And we’ll rise from the ashes

Past the dark blue and the Fire

We’ll make something for us

Just for us

Then the music faded, and Aled’s voice, only moments ago so bright amidst the thundering instrumentals, had turned shy once again, snapping Daniel out of his trance. “So…do you like it?”

We’ll make something just for us.

Daniel felt a lump form in his throat. Does coffee mess with a person’s emotions? Surely, it should. He’d have to check his biology notes later.

“Are you kidding me? The new lyrics are fantastic. It’s amazing. I- I love it.”

Aled tucked a strand of hair behind their ear and blushed. One corner of their lip was turned up in a bashful smile.

Gods, he really wanted to kiss them.

“I-”

A smatter of knocks could be heard from Aled’s side. They stood up immediately, throwing their phone on the bed so Daniel could only see Aled’s ceiling. There was more clattering and-

“Al I love you but I swear to god if you don’t stop causing a racket I will- What are you even doing this late??” It was Carys.

“Whoops…” Daniel said.

Carys’ face took up the screen. “Ohhhh you’re being gay,” she cackled. “Hi Daniel! In that case guys have fun but I have an early shift tomorrow so keep it down, won’t you? Okay bye good night-and-morning.”

And just like that, she was gone, replaced by Aled’s shocked expression, puppy-eyes wide.

The two of them stared at each other for a moment, then Daniel burst out laughing, and Aled started laughing even louder.

“I said keep it down!” The faint sound of Carys' half-irritated shout drifted from somewhere outside Aled’s room.

“Tell her I’m sorry?” Daniel said.

“Shut up.” Aled said, smirking.

┈┈┈┈․° * °․┈┈┈┈

It was 4:28 AM and Daniel felt, for the first time in a long while, that they were okay.

Notes:

That moment when you exhaust the meager supply of Daniel x Aled content that exists so you have to write your own...

Seriously, I want to read more about them!! So if anyone has written or will write more about their relationship, please share it with me.

Not sure why I chose to write a whole fic surrounding a phone conversation because 1. I hate phone conversations, and 2. I struggle with writing dialogue. I hope you still enjoyed the fic even though my inexperience in the two aforementioned areas may have made the dialogue unnatural :D

P.S. Was the first section just me venting about Hess' Law vicariously through Daniel? Yes. It absolutely was.

#radio silence #radio silence fic #aled and daniel #aled last #daniel jun #universe city #alice oseman #osemanverse

[kittyrob0t]

I will type this while im still feeling pretentious

in a good way, don't get me wrong. Lately, I've been feeling an overwhelming need to learn new languages, read books again, shift the music I listen to, and simplify the clothes I wear. Albeit, this might be temporary for now, I am clinging on to this momentary idealization of a want for this lifestyle. I know at my age, it will be difficult to learn a new language, and hopeless considering it might be a barren skill to have if I'm never even going to leave the country sooner or at all. But alas, my brain has decided to do something, and I must follow. This is more and more showing up as a stage of mania and ADHD, which I will ignore, and proceed with. In the past I've always wanted to learn new things, and have always failed because I use life as an excuse to forget or even tire of doing such things. I've also always wanted to have a simpler wardrobe with better pieces but have failed as well because I always put front that I am a victim of capitalism and am not privileged enough to afford slow fashion. Hence my repetition of clothes despite having a ton of them. I no longer enjoy making coffee, I make it, but finish it in less than 10 minutes without actually savoring it. Even the process itself. Which I know sounds ludicrous but I just miss romanticizing the small bits of life as I have been eternally depressed to do so.

I started the last three months with a labor some skincare routine, I now can't seem to be bothered. And I have been in an eternal melancholy for weeks that honestly feel like months. And maybe it has been months, I don't really remember. I haven't really had a fair grasp on time since five years ago. I also have this idea of reading these blog entries in videos I want to create, but it might be too much and overwhelming, and as I'm typing this, maybe its better to keep two separate mediums for now. Especially since I haven't even started video taping anything. It's also funny how I've never talked about filming anything in the first paragraph and now I'm blabbering on about it.

As for my quietness, I am in a pit to be honest. I am currently going in no sure direction with my career and now that I have finally stepped up, am coming to a long stop, I think most probably I am. Sometimes I get sputters of ideas that maybe I should do more work on my portfolio, but I can never find the time to do it, because I always think I'm better off doing something better at that moment. And then it all gets faded out, until a desperate happening comes into my life and I think about it again, and the cycle continues. I currently am working three jobs, one full time, two part time ones that feel like the other one is in disguise. It's a lot more needy than I am, and the fact that I'm depressed doesn't help. I am also currently processing training sessions for a voice acting gig that will last for 6 months and can probably pay for 3 years of rent, for a French web company about to launch audio smut. My desperation for money has definitely made me tolerate some red flags my employer has been showing, especially the time I asked for a contract and he sent me a two-sentence PDF with two underlines for signatures, five minutes later.

Someone has also been 'managing' me, in music, and have been singing as a back up for an indie rapper that seemingly only has intense rhythmic pop in his discography. Most of our shows either has my mic set to the lowest volume; either that, or my voice is incredibly low and quiet, and in decibels the naked ear can't hear, If that's even a phrase. But even then, I still value the 500-1000 peso bills I receive after (under) performing. I seem to think I get better with each performance, but whenever I get off, I always hear the feedback that I seem to have not existed there at all. And to be honest, I don't know what to feel. But I don't feel sad at all. There's certainly a humor to it. Feels like being a ghost employee in a band, paid to be silent.

I've also some to admit that I'm terribly disappointed with how my life is going, but often forget that I am, because of the little tiny happy moments that happen in between, that when I do remember, I feel a little worse that I don't know how to tell people how miserable I am because I feel that the time has passed.

I am currently determined on being alone, as I am weighing if I truly enjoy it because I get to so many things I plan on doing, or maybe I'm just genuinely busy; or that I am just glutted with the presence of other people, and have tremendously low energy to associate myself with. Which by the way, worries me that I may seem like a bitch.

#entry #update #how are you #writer's entry #personal

[dawntainbobbynash]

Trusting a Helping Hand

Bobby confesses a long-held secret to Hen, leading to her helping him come to an important realization.

For 911 Pride Week Day 1 - Friends and Family

Bobby & Hen ~ 1k ~ AO3

“Come on, Cap,” Hen wheedled. “You’re handsome enough these days to attract the likes of Athena Grant – you must have stories from when you were a young, wild bachelor.”

How did we get here?

The conversation had started off innocently enough, the two of them trading stories about their kids in between calls, the remains of their lunch sitting before them. Gradually, the topic shifted to their wives, and then, somehow… this. This subject that he generally avoided at all costs.

He shrugged, hiding behind a drink of water, little more than a meager sip of melting ice. “Not really.”

Despite resolutely not looking at her, he could feel Hen’s wave of disbelief in his bones. “You are a terrible liar, Bobby Nash.”

He huffed a chuckle. “So I’ve been told.”

Silence.

He chanced a glance up to find her studying him, eyes narrowed ever so slightly. “What?” he asked, his pitch climbing a defensive note or two. Or three.

“There’s something you’re not telling me.”

A statement. Not a question.

He stalled, drumming his fingers against the glass, looking around for a way out, for a distraction, for somebody to interrupt, part of him even praying for a call. “No, there isn’t.”

“Bobby.”

She left it there. Waiting. Patient. Just firm enough to nudge without pushing, without rushing him, not demanding an answer, just… waiting. Waiting for him to trust her.

“So,” he broached the morning of his third shift in his Los Angeles, nursing the last of his coffee alongside Hen, the last one beside him after breakfast. “You’re married?”

“Yeah,” she said, the answer bringing an instant smile to her face. “I got a wife. Her name’s Karen.”

A wife, Bobby repeated to himself, a quiet, wondrous, tenuous whisper, dwelling there as Hen carried confidently on, explaining that her wife was a rocket scientist and that they had a son, too, hardly even noticing the familiar way his heart twisted at the mention of parenthood.

Some part of him, a part he had never quite been able to ignore, breathed a sigh of relief.

He closed his eyes, remembering that moment, that feeling of no longer being alone that had always followed him around when he was with Hen, then Karen, then Michael, and now David, that feeling that always faded when he left them behind. A feeling he didn’t even quite get with his wife, not in the same way, not even when he was wrapped in her arms at night, safe and sound and content as could be. Maybe… maybe it was finally time he faced why.

And if he was going to do that, well, it might as well be with the first person who had made him comfortable in this city.

“I used to be like Buck,” he admitted, clutching his glass in both hands. “Buck 1.0, I mean. I slept around a lot before I met Marcy. But…”

He trailed off, the words lodging in his throat, tangled up in decades of secrecy.

Hen reached out, laying her hand over his. “Talk to me, Bobby.”

He took a deep breath, her wedding ring cool against his skin, reflecting the light above them. “I never really wanted to,” he continued. “I… thought it was normal, something I had to do to be one of the guys. But I didn’t- I let the women come to me. And I know how that sounds,” he added hastily, “but it wasn’t like that. I wasn’t being pretentious. I was just… never interested enough to make my own choice and flirt first. Not for one-night stands.”

Hen tilted her head, considering. “Did you like it?” she asked.

“No,” he answered definitively, the one thing he had always been certain of. “Not until I met Marcy. And Athena.”

She nodded. “And how did you meet Marcy?”

“She got a job as a barista at the coffee shop near my old station while she went to college.” He softened slightly, nostalgia settling over him, bringing with it the acrid scent of that dingy old place, a horror he had quickly begun volunteering to brave if only he could hear her laugh. “I lost a bet and had to get the team’s coffee for a week. She memorized my order after the first day and laughed at my jokes all week. I started going there even when I was off duty, and we could talk for hours. I asked her out to see the new Star Trek movie together two weeks later, and the rest is history.”

She shook her head affectionately. “Of course your first date was a Star Trek movie.”

“And it was the best first date I ever went on,” Bobby said. “Now why do you sound like you’re diagnosing me?”

“I’m not,” she assured him, squeezing his hand. “Because there’s nothing wrong with you, Bobby. I just think you might be asexual.”

There’s nothing wrong with you.

The words echoed in his head, the affirmation he had waited decades for but thought he’d never get, leaving him startled, fumbling. “I’m- What?”

She already had her phone out, typing something in and sliding it across the table to him. “Read that and tell me if it fits,” she said, standing up with her empty glass and plucking his from his hands. “I’ll give you a minute while I refill these. Oh, and Bobby?”

He looked up at her as he picked up the phone.

She smiled, shifting the glasses to one hand so she could rest her other on his shoulder. “Happy Pride Month.”

He looked down as she walked away, taking in the article she had pulled up, the article that explained everything that had never made sense, everything he had ever worried was wrong with him, and when she came back, he finally, finally let himself trust that comfort she had always brought, leaning over and asking his questions, the two of them poring over the phone and doing some research, and when the next call inevitably came in, it wasn’t the saving grace he had hoped for not that much earlier.

Asexual, he mused, repeating the word over and over as he and Hen grabbed their gear and jumped into the truck. Ace.

Yeah, he decided as they sped to the call, filled with a new appreciation for every pride flag they passed, waving cheerfully outside of homes and businesses alike. I’m ace.

Marching onto the scene and calling out orders with Hen by his side, he felt lighter and more confident than he had in years.

#911prideweek #911fic #bobby nash #hen wilson #bobby nash fanfic #hen wilson fanfic #911 #mine. #text #fic #bobby #hen #adbobby*

[cacti-on-venus]

The Confession Scene - DSMP Knives Out AU

this au belongs to @plagueislost ! I just got inspired and wanted to write out my favorite scene from the movie but with the characters :3 

 I couldn’t make myself make Techno or Niki a Thrombey so they’re the police dudes.

Word Count: 1.6 K words

SPOILERS FOR THE KNIVES OUT ENDING SCENE PLEASE GO WATCH THE MOVIE IT’S REALLY GOOD

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"It's the doctor, I gotta pick this up" Tommy mumbled, turning away as everyone stared at him in anticipation about Tubbo's condition at the hospital. Dream gave Wilbur Soot a glare while Wilbur focused solely on Tommy. The phone recorder still sits on the coffee table next to Soot, numbers changing with the passing seconds

"Yes...doctor that’s great news, we’ll be there soon" the phone call ends, and a wave of relief washes over the tense room. Tommy turns around with a happy grin, shoving the phone into the pocket of his wooly blue cardigan.

"He's okay!" Tommy exclaims happily "He's alive and ready to talk with us" Wilbur smiles and Dream lets out a huff looking away and sinking further into the leather armchair. Lieutenant Techno also seems to release a sigh of relief.

"That's wonderful Toms" Wilbur says as he stands up, patting the blond on the shoulder. He glances over at the still pissed-off man in the green hoodie, still fuming in his armchair.  

"Trooper Niki, if you could go keep Mr. Dream Minecraft in custody while Lieutenant Techno, Tommy, and myself go to the hospital and take Tubbo's statement on the matter" He says. Niki nods, urging the man out of his armchair as Techno gets ready to go out the door. Dream takes a few steps before stopping.

"Huh," he says, turning around to face the blond and narrowing his eyes. Tommy can feel them pierce into his very soul "You know Tommy I'm gonna say it just to you, Tommy. No cameras, just you. And you know it's true." he says taking a step towards him. Tommy takes one step back, trying to not break eye contact.

"We allowed you to worm your way into our home." he says coldly and he's way too close for comfort "We let you look after and help our grandad Philza and we welcomed you into our family as if you were always one of us... and now you think you can steal everything from us?" his voice still manages to sound playful, even when he's threatening. Like a cat with a meek mouse at his mercy.

"This isn’t Tommy’s house, it’s the Minecraft house. Do you think I'm not gonna fight you to protect our home? The disc and book publishing company?  Everything that is rightfully ours?" he asks, getting up into Tommy's face and Tommy struggles to keep looking straight into those green malicious eyes. He takes another step back and nearly hits the metal circle, displaying all of Phil's swords.

"Our ancestral family house Phil built all on his own just for us?" he adds. Wilbur bursts out laughing, everyone looking over at him.

"Oh! Haha! Now, you're just talking shit!" Wilbur says, holding his stomach from the laughter. Tommy can't help but notice Dream's eye twitch at the words. "Phil, y'know he-he helped built it in the 80s but the blueprints were constructed with the help of a very successful architect by the name of Fooli-"

"OOOOHHHH SHUT UP SOOT! SHUT UP!"  Dream yelled throwing his arms in the air, making Tommy flinch. "Shut UP with that fake-ass pretentious British accent of yours! You're from fucking UTAH!" that seems to shut Wilbur up, although he still has a smug smirk on his face which has Dream fuming.

"Yeah so maybe I tried to kill Tubbo, yeah I admit it. So what do you really have on me?"  he says moving towards Wilbur. His eyes dart erratically to everyone in the room. "You got nothing. Some charges of petty arson, some attempted murder charges? With a good lawyer which I have, I'll be out of prison in no time" he laughs before once again targeting Tommy.

"And then Tommy, I'm going to make sure every day for you is a living hell on this Earth, you stupid little shit child" he whispers threateningly. Tommy's stomach churns loudly.

And then he vomits all over Dream, falling to the floor.

Techno and Niki run to his side as he's heaving while Dream is just barely holding himself back in anger and shock. He raises his hand telling them to back off, and he sees the gears in Niki's head turning. She gasps, as the realization hits her.

"Wait... he got sick... so that means he's-!" she yells out and Techno catches on too.

"Lying..." he mumbles. Tommy rubs his mouth with his sleeve and nods.

"That's right bitch! T-Tubbo's..." his voice cracks slightly as he takes in a deep breath. He stands up shakily, glaring at him. "Tubbo's dead. And you, you just confessed to his murder!" he shouts, all eyes now on Dream. Dream's eyes look over to the phone still recording on the coffee table.

It's silent for a while. Dream takes in a deep breath, wiping away pieces of undigested food from his green hoodie. He looks to the floor for a minute before letting out a small chuckle.

"Well...As they say" a vicious smile crosses his face "In for a penny."

Dream grabs at one of the swords from the display, lunging at Tommy before he had the time to react. He stumbles trying to step away in time as Dream grabs him by the collar of his shirt. Tommy thinks he registers Wilbur's shout, maybe Niki gasp. But it all felt muffled as he fell.

But when he hit the ground, he felt no pain.

Dream looked equally confused, glancing at the sword. But as he tried to stab Tommy again, the blade only retracted into the handle.   Tommy glanced back to Dream who looked nearly as pale as he did.

"Shit-" he managed to whisper out, before Techno pulled Dream off Tommy, cuffing his hands behind his back. Tommy took in desperate breaths as he tried to calm down, still lying on the floor where he fell. Everything...all was too much. A tear fell from his eyes as he looked at the wooden ceiling. He could almost hear Phil's voice ring in his ears from beyond the grave.

"Dream could never tell a real sword from a fake."

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

"How are you holding up Toms?" Wilbur's voice snapped Tommy out of his thoughts as he sat in the armchair upstairs, a green blanket draped over his shoulders and a cup of hot chocolate with marshmallows in his hands. From the faint sound of steps, he could hear the family all getting ready to leave the premises. He still doesn't know how to feel about that.

"Dunno. Okay, I guess..." he mumbles, taking a sip. Wilbur gives him a knowing look, walking up to the armchair in front of him and taking a seat. He takes out a cigarette lighting it. Tommy lets out a soft sigh.

"...How the fuck did you know it was me?" he asks and Wilbur blinks. He gives him the cheeky smile he always has on his face.

"Well...From the moment I first saw you." he points the cigarette at his shoes and Tommy looks down. He squints and his eyes widen as he notices a single drop of blood on his shoes, just between the shoelaces.

"Fuckin hell..." he says. He's tired, he's exhausted. This entire mystery has been one chaotic nightmare with him standing in the middle, pushed around like a chessboard piece. He barely even got the time to mourn Phil's death. Wilbur sighs and puts out the cigarette in the nearby ashtray, somehow having finished it already. He gives him a comforting look, that Tommy can't decide whether to hate or not.

"Y'know, there's one thing I want you to remember Tommy," Wilbur says as he places a hand on Tommy's shoulder. The blond reluctantly meets his eyes "Som-something very important, alright?" And Tommy hangs onto his every word.

"You won this game, not by playing Phil's way, but yours," he says softly and Tommy lets out a breath, hanging his head. Wilbur ruffles his blond hair and grins wider.

"You're a good person, Toms. Don’t forget it"  he stands up, grabbing his old khaki coat off the nearby coathanger. Tommy grabs at his hair with his hand, all the frustration, stress, and grief catching up to him. These past few days were hard to process.

"This family..." he rests his head in the palm of his hand, the other tightening his grip on the mug in his hand. Wilbur pauses looking back at him

"Ranboo, Schlatt, Connor, Sapnap, all of them, they..." he says with despair, looking back at Wilbur who looks at him with those kind brown eyes. They remind him of Phil in a way. "They...I mean...I should help them, right...?" he manages to get out. Wilbur frowns, scratching the side of his head.

"I have my... opinions," he says with a nervous laugh before looking up at him with the same comfort as before "but I get the feeling you'll follow what your heart says is right anyway" he waves as he leaves the room, a small 'see ya toms' as he makes his way down the hallway.

It feels like forever as he sits there, staring into nothing. Eventually, he stands up and walks out of the room, making his way to the balcony, and passing by Phil's portrait. He doesn't know if it's a trick of an eye paired with his grief, but he swears he can see the painting smile down at him for a second before it turns stoic again.

As he stands on the balcony, he watches the family gather around their cars, and upon noticing him they all look back at him, a blank look on all of their faces. They stare for a while.

Tommy takes a sip of his hot chocolate and goes back inside.

#fanfiction #fanfic #drabble #mcyt #mcytbr #knives out #knives out au #dsmp

[collectionoftulips]

Right, I've done enough life admin (cleaning and what not) and had my coffee so will get around to answering comments and commentary from the last two chapters that you were so kind enough to leave me. I will also offer unsolicited thoughts that no one asked for because... well, I wanna share my thought process ;) All that good stuff under the cut

@angel-starbeam Anthony's heart broke and it's sad and I'm pretty sure he got the wrong idea about Kate and Dorset. 😭 Can't wait for the next chapter.

Reply: I know - it's so sad 😢 Won't say too much about Kate and Dorset's backstory and what happened there as I will address it in a bit (but if it still isn't clear I guess I'll clarify later). These poor self-suppressing fools (I mentioned in a comment on AO3 that I feel like this fic might be a PSA for the virtues of clear communication in relationships and I feel like that might be true 😂). Thank you so much for always being such a lovely supportive commenter - I've really enjoyed reading your comments

@kateschechterxthorwasmyfirstotp Ouch, Dorset’s role here is interesting and hopefully he will eventually be a catalyst for KA to talk to each other, since some of the story’s force points - bee scene and Edwina engagement are not happening with the new timeline, which could allow these two to continue being idiots not dealing with their issues a long time. It is lovely to think years of being torn down by the Sheffields and society will be fixed by assurance of her family’s love, but both of their issues are clearly present. This chapter and the next are sort of bookends showing how much farther they still have to go. And I do wonder historically if KA would be able to pull of the tricky mistress to wife conversion, and if Kate would even want to since she has experienced a taste of a life of independence and a very different world.

Reply: Obviously I will be an asshole and not say what I've got planned coming up, but thank you for such a lovely comment. That's really what I wanted to convey and it makes me really happy to see it seemingly succeeding 😄 I guess one major reason also why I have so clearly decided not to do the bee scene (for now? who knows?) and also kinda dipped out of the idea of Anthony-being-engaged-to-Edwina pretty early (aside from the fact that it wouldn't really make sense to me considering how Anthony behaved from just a touch or a kiss, if he was sleeping with her, his subconscious would definitely be like 'nope, no one else for you this is it') was that the issues that both Anthony and Kate deal with as characters are pretty deep-rooted. The TV show naturally had to have external events prompting the story forward but I guess through the process of writing this story, I'm learning that I'm really enjoying the psychological exploration and the knots we as people tie ourselves in. That's kind of what I like and, with the risk of sounding pretentious, I guess I sort of like a more calm and melodic pace that doesn't suit a bunch of plot points in one chapter. I also didn't want to create a scenario where I changed one thing (the Sheffields being like 10% more awful on top their already spectacular awfulness) and then gradually revert to the show format (no shade at all to people who do that though, I love stories like that!), but instead that changed thing kind of changes everything and ripples through the entire story. Sorry for the dissertation, but I guess I'm just saying I seem to have made things more difficult for myself, but I'm sort of enjoying the challenge - I just hope I pull it off properly. Hope the planting went well? 72 plants sound like a lot (and from google, they look very pretty!) so well done :D

I hope I didn't miss anyone's comment but I went back on the past two chapters to copy the responses I could see in (but I don't trust Tumblr anymore haha)

I also got a comment from AO3 saying that I was sort of replicating the Siena/Anthony dynamic and that Anthony is basically doing the same sort of projecting-daydream thing. I'm sort of including it here because I think it's a really important point and made me think (which I appreciated). I hope I have done enough to distinguish how K/A were different to S/A, even though they start off in pretty similar places because obviously in this story Kate and Siena basically share the same class position vis-a-vis the ton. Also, with the lack of external dynamics like engagement-to-Edwina, Anthony isn't forced (yet) to really process his issues quite just yet. Anyway, that's been kind of my logic around it, but I'd welcome more thoughts on it. Because, bare minimum, if I'm not making it clear enough, I might have to consider how to make it clearer going forward.

Anyways, thank you so much everyone for all your comments and support. I really deeply appreciate it. When I said before that I'm very self conscious about my writing style, I meant it, because the kind of phrasing I like writing I know can veer very near a bit too verbose and runs the risk of being pretentious, so I appreciate you all for helping me feel confident enough to post my scribbling. ❤️

#me answering your lovely fic comments

[maybeweshould]

How the therapy inspired the marketing strategy?

We were talking about H's therapy 1,5 week ago. I was talking with one of you about my theory:

H mentions therapy every time he promotes his albums. For example: that making an album is like therapy and writing lyrics is therapeutic. This time it is included in each promotional article in a specific way. Each time he emphasizes that he feels that he is more alive and that he enjoys all the moments. Plus, discovering yourself is like discovering new rooms in your home. You have to open the door to open the rooms. So what did H and his team did? Documented moments from the production of the album and put them behind a virtual door, letting fans discover those moments. They enriched them with creating their own room with decorative elements of each house and short captions on twitter... Rooms are spaces in H's mind, each one is for him a space to capture moments, to discover and to explore. It's also like a diary.

DAZED Magazine:

'[...] I’ve always found that the moments in my life which have brought me the most joy are the small ones, whether it be, you know, the end of the night under the stars or a bite of food, or sitting with your friends thinking, ‘Oh, I’m never gonna forget this.’ It’s always those moments that I find have the longest-lasting effect on me, in terms of sparking something wonderful in me. I really think that the essence of Pleasing is finding those little moments of joy and showing them to people.[...]'

BHG interview:

[...]He knew he had to commit to the reset, to the sense of a fresh start that was happening across his life. He is aware that this all sounds a bit pretentious, a bit airy-fairy, but then, who didn’t get caught up in a rush of pandemic life-improvement epiphanies? “I think everyone went through a big moment of self-reflection, a lot of navel-gazing, and I don’t know if there’s anything more navel-gazing than making an album. It’s so self-absorbed,” he said. [...]

[...]So he used lockdown to commit to being a better friend, son, brother. He pushed himself to confront things he hadn’t brought up, had many long, honest chats. And like most people who found themselves suddenly very, very inside, he thought a lot about the idea of home—about belonging, peace, sanctuary. “I realized that that home feeling isn’t something that you get from a house; it’s more of an internal thing. You realize that when you stop for a minute,” he said.

[...] Harry's House is, as you can probably guess, about home. Not just home in the sense of a physical space—though there are plenty of references to kitchens and "sitting in the garden" and "maple syrup, coffee, pancakes for two"—but also to home "in terms of a headspace or mental well-being," as Styles put it. "It sounds like the biggest, and the most fun, but it's by far the most intimate," he said of the album. [...]

[...]When Styles began therapy about five years ago, he was reluctant initially, feeling it was a music industry cliché. "I thought it meant that you were broken," he said. "I wanted to be the one who could say I didn't need it." He returned to the home theme that has underpinned our conversation, explaining that therapy has allowed him to "open up rooms in himself" that he didn't know existed, allowed him to feel things more honestly, where before he had tended to"emotionally coast." He said, "I think that accepting living, being happy, hurting in the extremes, that is the most alive you can be. Losing it crying, losing it laughing—there's no way, I don think, to feel more alive than that."

Zane Lowe interview:

[.. ]'Therapy is an example, it’s like you open a bunch of doors in your house that you didn’t know existed and then in a time when it would be easier to emotionally coast, you can no longer do that because you know the door exists and the scale is just widened. And you feel everything that’s bad so much harder and you feel the good moments so much harder' [...]

#harry styles #harry update #harry 1d #pr #music #marketing #doors #you are home #harrys house

[cyborgchickenbanana]

Good evening. Well, it’s about my bedtime where I am. I’m not sure who will be reading my blog. Maybe my friends, if they find this. Or if I tell them. Perhaps strangers will be reading this, but I hope the type of strangers I could be friends with. 

So, friend, if I may call you that, I have this impulsive urge to tell you things. I feel that tumblr offers an intimacy other platforms are ignorant to. I’m not sure how else to explain things. I have this primal desire to be known and possibly even praised, but I am a devotee of privacy.

This all sounds pretentious. The way I’m writing right now. How silly. Anyway, you should know I keep a diary. My goal for 2022 was to journal everyday and I ended up filling 4 journals documenting my life and I’d like to do that again this year. I say I have a diary rather than a journal is because I want to cling to this idea of teenagehood and also because starting all my rants with “dear diary” makes me laugh a little.

I guess the real reason I’m writing this right now rather than doing things that would make sense is that, well, let me think of how to explain. I think I mentioned in a past post my mom put restrictions on my phone? So I’m using an old Chromebook to access tumblr and I opened up Instagram today. I haven’t checked Instagram in a couple months. I only use it to pretend to be social with people from my school. People keep asking why I stopped using Instagram and I’ve been blaming it on the person who convinced me to download the app in the first place. But the point is I opened Insta and I even posted some pictures to prove I’m living and alive. Looking at other people’s posts didn’t exactly make me happy, though, so I guess I don’t miss it as much as I thought I did. I saw selfies from the person who convinced me to get Instagram and TikTok a while ago. We don’t talk now. They look happy which is cool. It just gave me this mix of nostalgia (although, it’s only been about two months since we stopped talking) and loneliness (I tend to feel like an outsider in most situations).

Can I tell you more things about myself? I love glitter gel pens. I prefer to write notes with blue ink and assessments in black. I need three pillows to sleep or else my back aches but only use one blanket. I love coffee but I like it with lots of creamer. I prefer low top shoes over high tops. I eat saltines by the sleeve-ful, peanut butter by the spoonful, and caramels in slow savory bites. I like collecting rain water, especially in the summer. I’ve been told I make a small noise when I smile for pictures.

Okay, okay. That was very much. Thank you for listening--er, reading. I hope next time I’ll have a clearer direction for my post.

#jo's writing #jo rambles #tumblr diary #writing #trying to relearn the tumblr algorithm lol

[theycallhergypsy]

On the sea shore of laughter

Lately, I've been noticing all kinds of laughter. Days get rough and mundane when you are in your late twenties. And if you are anything like me who is not sure of anything at this point and enduring endless burnout. Every day passes like a blur to you. It's kind of cinematic (lol) except ain't no happy endings here. Hmm.. who knows.

Well, whatever!

Lately, I've been observing smiling faces a lot. I keep hearing all kinds of laughter. some are forced, some are pretentious, and some are unbelievably loud. but the other day while coming back home after a long day of work as I took the subway and immediately occupied my destined space on the corner of the opening gates. I heard it. which motivated me to write something about it.

The laughter of a woman who is in love.

Have your ever noticed how wonderful it sounds? she laughed again after sharing the inside joke with her lover. I tried not to stare at them but a smile crept on my face while I focused my attention on my phone. Answering the text I received. The laughter shared between two lovers was so pure that it melted my grumpy heart.

I got down on my station before them sending them good vibes. and on the rest of my journey back home. I had a smile on my face and I kept thinking about how I adore the sound of genuine laughter. how long it has been since I laughed for real. how I wished to hear my father's loud laughter after his repetitive stories. My mother's unhinged laugh, My best friend's weird laughs, and the laughter of all the people I love. it all came crashing down on me like a giant sea wave. It may sound silly to talk about it but when all my days go by hearing words like strong, boss, savage, badass, and no fucks given.

I almost forgot the feeling to be soft. I love being strong and ace in all those society survival skills but lately I've been reminded about how I love those fine lines, wrinkled smiles, and sounds of different laughter. how they warm your heart and feel like a hug. how they make this phase of endurance a little less unbearable.

Sometimes I stand amidst the sea of laughter and someday I am on the shore. I stop fighting for a little while and let myself go. I close my eyes and my time stops as I thank my life and its beauty. My gratitude runs deep, and I laugh a little at my silly thoughts.

I grab a cup of coffee

I smile as I pay for it

And I walk to begin my day

Looking forward to walking back home.

#GYPSY

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