#why the fuck do i still bother i am unable to make friends irl for the everloving life of me

[paskariu]

I said that it was a good day too early :)

#haha my friends only noticed that i left the discord call after 50 minutes :)))))))) #why? because they all switched to a diff channel to play minecraft but i cannot access my account anymore #so instead of switching to the minecraft channel i left because what's the point if i can't join #don't get me wrong i said my goodbyes and all but getting asked where i went after 50 minutes passed????? REALLY?????? #i've felt like the figurative third wheel in that group for a while but i guess proof that i don't just feel that way #and it's actually the case kind of hurts #why the fuck do i still bother i am unable to make friends irl for the everloving life of me #and if i do i always end up the third wheel this has been a trend since my literal kindergarden days #vent #ah well decided to tell the guy and he said word for word 'we noticed earlier but everyone was too hyped <3' #fucking sure glad you're having fun #i'm fucking done with this day #riu speaks

[currywaifu]

𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐥𝐞: save file 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩: chigasaki itaru/reader 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: sfw 𝐰𝐜: 3.0k words

𝐚𝐧: itaru event? itaru fic! me loving fake dating + direct af titles? nothing changed~ sequencing of events might be weird, oops~

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Itaru’s not the least bit surprised at the sight of your wrinkled nose; neither is he shocked at the crease that formed between your brows nor the narrowing of your eyes. It must be a lot to take in, truly, but it had to be done.

“Chigasaki-kun,” you said, immediately trailing off as though you couldn’t convey the rest of your thoughts. That was fine, he thought, he can wait for his SP to fill up for 100 minutes so surely he can wait a couple more minutes for your response.

It’s a bit embarrassing, but maybe he needs to explain a bit more? He doesn’t mind too much, he was putting you on the spot, after all.

“I know it’s sudden,” Itaru said apologetically, “but I need you. You’re the only one who can—“

“Chigasaki-kun,” you repeated, sounding firmer this time around. At this point, Itaru noticed that your eyes never left the cafe table that separated the two of you, or rather what laid right smack in the centre of it. As soon as he slid it towards you, your eyes had gone from wide and surprised to squinting, almost as though it had offended you.

He was so focused on your line of sight that he failed to notice the sudden rush of red that raced across your cheeks. After a moment of silence, you let out a deep breath.

“Why the fuck did you just give me a replica of Byleth’s ring from Fire Emblem?”

“Oh, don’t worry,” he dug through his pocket to bring out another ring, the exact same design, “I have another one.”

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“Hey, you made it! Thanks for coming, Chigasaki-sa—“ as he took in the sight of your locked hands, his co-worker let out a comically loud gasp, before trying and failing to cover it up with an awkward cough.

Itaru’s not stupid, at the very least he’s definitely not blind or deaf. Besides the gracious host, he can tell everyone is shocked and staring. They’re not even trying to be discrete about it anymore.

The people from his department had been gossiping for all of last week, creating speculations on his love life. The theories had a lot of exaggeration, a lot of denial.

You squeezed his hand a little tighter, him reciprocating to reassure you.

Envy. Judgement.

Still, as he glanced at your face to check for any sign of discomfort only to find a poised smile, he was once again reminded by your strength and fortitude. He always admired that from you, and it was always so enthralling to see that side of you in action.

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“You’ll come, won’t you?” Itaru let out a quiet hum, yet refusing to answer immediately. Though he’d prefer to sit out of most gatherings, he particularly disliked going to non-essential get-togethers where the only real purpose was for his co-workers to eat and drink less restrained as they would with the higher-ups around.

Normally he would have some excuse conjured up, maybe even pretend to check his phone calendar and reject the invite apologetically. However, he had already skipped out three times, consecutively.

He already breached the three strikes and you’re out rule, and he’s not so sure risking going for four would be the smartest play for his reputation… but it probably wouldn’t hurt to save game and set aside his decision making for later.

“I’ll have to check my schedule. I just need to check with someone first,” he said, thinking back to the director and the rest of spring troupe. Would any of them give him an excuse he has yet to use?

“Ahh, feel free to bring your sister then!” the man paused, a small smirk appearing as his eyebrows waggled. “Unless you wanna bring, you know, a friend.”

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“You just don’t want to suffer alone,” you said, using your fork to prod at the meal he treated you to. Surely a one time gathering wasn’t all there is to it? Chigasaki Itaru, who always kept his life outside work private, suddenly wanting people to know he had a significant other?

Even though he didn’t?

“I’ve been to those— I know they suck,” you continued, your eyes darting away from the silver band to look at him properly, “will this even benefit you?”

“It’ll probably be annoying at first,” he replied, keeping eye contact to let you know how serious he was, “dealing with everyone’s questions, but they’ll eventually just accept it and stop bothering me.”

“What about me?”

“You work somewhere else— they won’t get the chance to bother you,” he pointed out, propping his elbow on the table as he rest his cheek on his knuckles. He continued seeing as you stayed silent, “plus, don’t you have anyone bothering you about your lack of a love life?”

In any other instance, you probably would have made a remark about him being too dedicated to his waifus to date as well, but you could only grimace as you recalled the upcoming family reunion. If your aunts teased you again for not being in a relationship… if your mom kept insisting that you were just hiding a secret boyfriend to delude herself…

“Fine, but in exchange—“

Itaru let out a chuckle, “so the matching rings aren’t enough? I’ll have you know, they’re Class A replicas.”

You snorted, “stop, stop! I’m being serious here!” you said, lightly kicking his feet from beneath the table. When he moved to retaliate, you hastily pushed your feet beneath your chair.

“Oi—“

“Just kidding, just kidding!“ he said, raising his hands up in surrender, “so, how can I help you?”

“… you up for a family reunion lunch on Sunday?”

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“So, like, do we need to prepare any— dude, dude, dude what the…? This part of your island is—” Even without heading over to where you were, he immediately knew which area you were cackling about.

“That’s the nature dump! Obviously not gonna terraform it yet?” Itaru replied, “I need a place to place all the normie flowers?”

He heard you scoff, your animal crossing character running up to his and hitting him with a net.

“Not that dump, dummy! Why are there toilets? The fences— toilets—“ you trailed off, unable to help yourself from bursting back into laughter. He instinctively laughed alongside you, knowing the monstrosity you were talking about.

“What kind of idiot makes a pathway out of toilets?”

“Hey! They create a cool effect when you walk past it!” he said, defending himself as your character hit his on the head again, “kind of like a clam opening up—“

“It’s a toilet! Not a clam!”

“Ya? Well I, Taruchi, am a resident of Urinetown, subtitle: actually an island and not a town,” Itaru said, almost as if he was proud of himself. “Before you come from me, Urinetown is a musical about capitalism. What’s your excuse, Pen Island?”

You gasped, obviously fake but dramatic enough to continue your banter “I’ll have you know, the actual name is Pen Isles? Also, you named our Stardew Valley farm—“ you paused, as though realising something, “wait, wasn’t I going to ask you something?”

“… pfft, GJ.”

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Itaru watched you introduce yourself to the rest of the room, your words polite but brimming with a confidence that was rare to see from his friend turned pretend s/o… or at least, that was what he initially thought.

Maybe this side of you just so happened to be particularly evident tonight, ringing throughout your voice and exhibited by your body language; that didn’t mean it was hidden before this instance.

There was a certain charm to you. Always been, but he never really acknowledged it. It was the little things, like how you were never hesitant about adding to his commentary when you two played Co-Op, or the playfulness you showed from time to time, or your genuineness around him— kind, but not taking bullshit from him or anyone.

If he was reading the room right, he can’t blame them for being even a little bit enthralled with you.

Even if it didn’t exactly sit right with him.

“I didn’t know Chigasaki-kun was dating someone!” a brave soul piped up from the sidelines, probably vocalising what everyone else was holding back from saying. Huh, wasn’t she one of the people who fiercely denied the rumour that he was in a relationship?

He doesn’t miss the way the corners of your lips quirked downwards for a split second, before lifting back upwards as though it never happened.

“Well, Itaru can be a bit private,” you replied, a muffled but silvery giggle escaping escaping your lips, “though I suppose I’m a bit of the same? Might be why we’re compatible.”

The woman who asked flushed slightly, and he was sure it wasn’t from any alcohol consumed. Even still, he found himself mirroring the pink hue.

Itaru?

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“Itaru,” he repeated to you for the third time tonight.

“Shoot, sorry,” you apologised, making your animal crossing character portray your shock at your slip-up again. Lmao, that was cute. “Damn… it’s weird going from Chigasaki-kun to just Itaru.”

It was his turn to hit your character with a net.

“Taruchi isn’t that far from Itaru, and you call me that all the time,” he stated, snorting at the little huff that was somehow still audible on call.

“Calling you your IGN is way different though?” you protested, “I can’t just call you that in public?”

“Shame it might expose me irl,” he sighed in disappointment, “it would have been cute to have my gamer s/o go ‘uwu Taruchi, fighto!’”

“Hahhh? Was it ever cute any time I called you Taruchi?” you asked, incredulousness present in your tone as you proceeded to mock him, “uwu, Taruchi, fighto!… there, was that cute at all?”

Itaru’s hand slid up to cover his face, his growing smile lifting his cheeks upward. You were clearly just joking around, but, well, “who knows? Maybe if you said ‘Taruchi-sama, ganbatte! I’d be able to—“

“Itaru!” you interrupted, immediately making the human equivalent noise of a keyboard smash, your little avatar running around in circles as he imagined what expression your face had right now.

Amidst his unrestrained laughter, he managed to squeeze in his next sentence in parts. “You— you finally said it! Otsu~”

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You had only called him ‘Itaru’ that one time, every other time being ‘Taruchi’ in private or ‘Itaru-kun’ in public. Still, hearing you say his name in person instead of on the phone made it feel like the first time again.

Luckily for him, he didn’t get that much time to dwell on it. Someone had lead you two to sit somewhere, surrounded by more of his polite and friendlier coworkers. Exchanging pleasantries with them was easy enough, as was answering questions about your relationship.

They’ve had multiple test runs after all. There was no way they were messing up any details, there was no room or possibility of either of them even fumbling.

“How long have you two known each other?”

“We’ve been friends since university,” you replied, something that was actually true, “it took years for me to even confess! I’m just glad Itaru accepted,” you gave him a purposeful glance, your bashful expression nearly enough to lead him to believe that you really did have a crush on him all this time.

“So you two have been together since—?”

“After my graduation,” Itaru supplied helpfully, “so it’s been a few years.”

“That’s so sweet! You know,” the woman in front of you lowered her voice, and you leaned in a little closer to listen in, “a lot of us were wondering if Chigasaki was dating anyone after we saw his ring. I thought it was just a fashion statement, but now I know it’s the real deal!”

She eyed the silver band on your ring finger, one that completely matched his.

“The rings are beautiful! The design is completely unique,” another person commented. Itaru felt your ring finger loop around his own, and the two of you turned to look at each other, sharing an amused grin.

If only they knew it was actually really well-done game merch.

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“What’s the point of the rings, though?” you asked, curious of just how far Itaru was taking this plan anyway.

“Do you not like it?” Itaru asked. Undeniably, he would be a bit upset if you ended up not liking the ring. After all, he bought it because—

“It’s lovely,” you said sincerely, carefully picking up the ring, “just surprised you already had rings on hand?”

He chuckled apprehensively, “I was going to save it as a friendship anniversary gift,” he explained, “I still feel a little guilty I didn’t get you anything last year.”

“You don’t have to get me anything anyway,” you said reassuringly, “but I appreciate it.”

He watched you slip the ring on your left ring finger, mouth opening up to apologise as he saw how loose the ring was on you, about to offer to have it resized immediately before you interrupted with quiet laughter.

“It’s a bit awkward right now, but I love it.”

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The get-together was going really well, surprisingly. He still would have preferred to be in the comfort of his room, but your presence just made everything so much easier. Even the questions people threw at the two of you weren’t so bothersome, dodging the more nosy people and sticking with anything general.

It had somehow become a game between the two of you. It was like an act off, almost, of who could give the more impressive or heart fluttering statement. Whether it was for the sake of your audience or to just affect each other remains unsaid.

“What do you like about Itaru?”

You looked away from him, closing your eyes as though you were thinking. To be fair, anything real personality or gaming related was out of bounds. Would you cater your response to his work persona, or—

“Everything!”

He nearly choked on air, trying to ignore the urge to clutch at his heart.

“That’s no fair, give something more specific!”

“I do like everything about Itaru, though?” you said with a cute pout, “but I guess I like his kindness the most. He’s always so thoughtful and considerate. He’s a busy man, but he always finds the time to help me out when I need it.”

Everyone cooed at the two of them, but he found it difficult to concentrate on that when he could only cling onto the words that started to sound more and more real as the night went by.

Out of context, everything you said could be interpreted as you just being friendly, but there was something in the way you pronounced his name and the expression on your face as you talked about him that was… different.

“What about you, Chigasaki?”

Escaping from his thoughts, his mind was filled to the brim with thoughts, but the words refused to spill from his lips.

Was there a way to describe how captivated he was at your little quirks, from the random filler noises you’d make on call or text when words failed you, to the literal quirk of the corner of your lips as you shifted expressions.

Was there a way express his appreciation for sticking by him for years, regardless of his hidden side? Was there a way to express his gratefulness for the laughter rendered and the tears wiped off by you; the smile blooming on his face as he imitated your own subconsciously?

This was the one thing he couldn’t have a manual or guide to study, so he could only hope that he went with the right dialogue choice.

“Everything too, actually.”

■■■■■■■■■■■■■□  AUTOSAVING AUTOSAVE SUCCESSFUL!

The drive back home was quiet. He was exhausted, and he could tell you were too, but as he neared your street his driving got slower and slower, almost unmoving. From the corner of his eye, he saw you fiddle with your ring, twisting it around your fourth finger before pulling it off completely.

“Oh, we’re here,” you said out loud, yet you didn’t make a move to reattach your seatbelt.

“Itaru.”

Oh, wow. If hearing it a while ago trumped hearing it over call, then hearing you murmur his name in private, with just the two of you present, was…

“You look like you have something on your mind,” you continued, “all throughout the whole get-together, actually. Are you okay?”

When everything about this, about you simultaneously felt so new yet so familiar to him, how could he possibly convey his feelings? His admiration, no, his love for you?

He took the ring from your grasp, and before you could question what was up, he had grabbed your hand as well. With a serendipitous conscientiousness, he slid the ring back onto your ring finger, admiring your rosy glow that managed to be visible even with how dark out it was outside.

“The things you said a while ago,” he began, some hesitance still remaining as his thumb glided over your ring, “sounded really convincing.”

You wouldn’t meet his eyes. For a few seconds the both of you kept silent, until you finally broke it off, “maybe I wasn’t lying in the first place.”

He stiffened, pausing his previous ministrations as you continued, “… were you?”

Looking back at the past week, he almost laughed. Other than already being in a relationship, was anything between the two of you ever a lie to begin with?

“I wasn’t, either,” he replied. Taking in a deep breath, your gaze finally locked with his, he took the next step.

“If… if I promise to always be there for you, to hold your hand, help you fight your battles, and shield you from attacks… would you have me?”

want to order again?

#a3! #a3! act! addict! actors! #itaru chigasaki #a3! itaru #chigasaki itaru #cafe: dessert menu #a3! actor training game #a3! game #a3 actor training game

[unravelling-the-world]

random thoughts related to kagepro (tw for depression?? death?? suicide ?? implied ?? im not sure and idk what else read at ur own risk)

well idk lately ive been thinking a lot and ik ive uh always (? since i can remember?) have been depressed (i mean...it started around age 12...i dont really remember much before that. most of what i remember are bad moments anyways. or very specific scenes. but they dont feel mine. if that makes sense. its like remembering the scene from a movie.  back on track i guess idk well lately ive realized i actually kin some characters and lately ive...been relating a lot to shintaro kisaragi fromkagepro. i mean its ok. there´s always been that specific similarity in us (after all, how many characters in anime are as related to coca cola as shintaro //and me,,im literally a coca cola addict lmao// well anyways. after some days, this lead me to thinking...to a hidden memory within my brain, i guess. I remember introducing my then best friends, to kagepro. one told me haha he´s like u bc the coca cola!! and i think i just laughed and smiled? i truly didn´t see it? i was sad sure, but i couldnt really relate to him. after all, i was the leader of my own little group of 12 year old weebs,right? (i was also 12 btw) i didnt personally dislike shintaro but i didnt rly see myself in him yknow? also i have loved ayano from ever since i have memory so idk like she´s one of my biggest comfort characters and its weird bc if she was ´´real´´ idk if i could date her or anything but im just glad she exists bc it somehow comforts me a lot yeah anyways ayano essay for another time lol. anyways at this age my favorite characters in kagepro were ayano and konoha ( i still love them a lot) thing is, at this point in my life i didnt know/wasnt aware i was transgender but i already kinda liked he/him pronouns so i roleplayed a lot. online. i roleplayed as konoha obviously lmao and actually one of my irl friends related to shintaro ?? and i think we may have roleplayed lmao and stuff.... she even had a facebook account named shin hikkikomori or smth like that. anyways fast forward bc after being 12 a lot of stuff happened obviously. and none of that relates to kagepro until quite some time. i will mention some items that dont really relate to kagepro but marked moments in my friend group that may be relevant later on. Around 2016)? Some of my closest friends changed schools (but we kept contact) yet i still had a big group at school. But it got fragmented along the way. 2017 i went to Japan and formed a new, different friend group with people that even today, are dear to me. When i came back, my friend group fragmented more. I kept contact with other members of the old group but one on one, not as a group anymore. 2018 we graduated, and i broke up my realtionship with one of my former best friends (2016-2018) 2019 was a year of change, and even though i was afraid and shit got weird, i was not doing too bad. i will skip that. Well. Im sure we all know 2020 was a trainwreck, shit happened. i had a villain arc. I lost my shit,definetely. Ups, downs, whatever. 2021 has not been too different. However, even through everything, in early 2020, i kept close relationships with my friend group. as the year moved forward and the restrictions started lifting ( thank you government very cool <3 //ironically obviously, this is the reason this shit wont go away//) some of my friends saw each other irl and stuff, or talked about stuff i didn´t understand/didn´t want to hear while on discord. I felt alienated. I felt empty. I got mad at a friend for the first time, for something he said. I ended up isolating myself. A friend celebrated her birthday. She invited me and never excluded me, asked me a lot of things and asked to virtually include me. But that would just make me feel more alienated, wouldn´t it? I told her it was ok, i didn´t go. Honestly, I felt like a bother. I didn´t want to bother. I wasn´t okay, but i didn´t want to bother anyone, so i isolated myself. I had a very bad breakdown. lasted weeks. When I recovered, it wasn´t the same. It felt like everyone else was closer, while i drifted away. I kind of recconected with some of my friends from Japan after this. In the vacations, i felt like i reconnected with some friends just to drift away again later. However, i never could reconnect with one of my best friends. She never really got mad at me or anything ( i think) but we don´t really talk much anymore. We used to talk daily, be it actual talking, memes, anything. I don´t think we´ve actually talked in weeks. There´s nothing I can do. This year, another friend had a birthday, but I was so disconnected from everyone I didn´t even care. I mean. It´s all broken now, isn´t it? The other day I just started wondering. When did I start relating to Shintaro so much? I had always been like this, hadn´t I? Who am I, actually? Why do I relate so much now? It´s not just about the soda. I had lost friends before, but I never really felt like that. Sometimes I feel like I´ve lost everyone. In a one year span I became a hikkikomori. About a month ago, when I entered classes, I was recognized as Shintaro pfp and I admitted to kinning him to people i´d never talked to before (on chat) // I decided to go apeshit idc anymore about what anyone thinks of me// I had fun. I think I must´ve posted on my stories, because two different people told me they were the ene to my shintaro. I appreciated it. i mean it´s kinda true bc now that i´m only on the pc they do bother me online and try to get me to open up or get better but sometimes the just annoy me lmao but also not bc they all have their own particular lives and they all seem to be doing better than me. Still, my classmates are very nice and inclusive. But it´s not like im close to any of them I guess. I´m just alone now. I´m fucked up man....I don´t feel real anymore. I don´t really know who I am. I guess that´s why I find comfort in seeing a part of myself in Shintaro? But when did i turn out like this? Why didn´t I relate when I was younger? Well, I hadn´t really lost any friends back then. I now know how painful that is. How lonely it is to be alone even when there is people around. idk. and i´ve always been quiet. introverted. shy. a loser. yet now whenever i meet anyone i try to idk connect? but i cant. i wish i could be more evil. maybe it´d just be easier if everyone really, truly hated me. maybe i´d get the strength to actually kill myself then. it´s weird. i really see myself in route xx shintaro. I know that´s fucked up because I know how it ends. but truly, i was trying. I was healing, i think i was going somewhere. and i was trying to keep my newly formed renovated friend group together. I really was trying to. I didn´t mind if we had sub groups on the big group, but we were all there for each other. I tried my best. I felt like i belonged. but now im alone again. and this time there´s nothing i can do. if something, i´ve made it worse. and i keep making it worse. it´s weird. when i first got into kagepro, both shintaro and ayano felt like adults. i thought they were really, really big. im older than them now. now i know theyre not really adults. i get it. i still feel 18. after all, these last two years have been taken away from me. i didnt waste them myself this time.  i feel like a rotten 18 year old...when i listen to lost time memory, i just...get it. i always liked the song. i thought the story was so cool. when it first came out.. i still remember. iwas there. i waited for it. i loved it. i still do, but back then, i just saw it all as some really great and cool song. now i feel like i really, really get it. i love it even more. im hiding away in all my memories. but what is my true heart? what do i really want? i don´t know, i don´t know... If I'm 'wise' then, I can't face forward; I have no reason to so, I'll rot away instead It would be nice if time could be turned back. Years may pass but I'll never die I repeat hopeful words to myself, even though I know I still won't be able to reach you. "It doesn't matter, just die already!" I said as I clutched my wrist, simply cursing it. Unable to do anything, I merely indulged myself in life. "If summer can show me dreams, then let's go to before you were taken away" The days where I hid my embarrassment are illuminating upon the atmosphere and burning my mind. If I'm wishing for a dream that can't come true, then I'll embrace this blurry past and have a dream which I don't wake up from and naturally seclude myself from the outside world. "But that means you can't even see tomorrow?" I don't really care 'bout that, so it's ok I stained my hands in order to kill these boring days I'm choosing "solitude" after all A rotten boy at 18 today too, prayed again while clinging on to your colored smile Underneath the blazing sun Asking "Somehow, please take me away instead of leaving like this!" and my murmuring breath was quietly stopped

I guess i just wish someone could actually help me. take me out of this hole. Maybe some kind of closure would be nice. It´s not the same, though. I don´t have enough bravery in myself to actually kill myself. Mostly because of guilt. I can´t take the guilt of dissapointing everyone. I don´t want my parents to get hurt. I don´t want my bunny to miss me. Yet i wish everyday for it to be over. Lately, half of my dreams have been in Japan, with many friends, some who i met there, some who have never been there. Yet my brain shows me the dreams before it was all taken away. I think one of my favorite parts of the day is dreaming. I like to sleep simply because I dream. And i sleep very few. mayb bc i hate myself? I still barely indulge in life. I do anything to stay distracted. If i think, it all goes to shit. it all does. like now. Heh. it´s funny. I guess no one is truly my ene, because no one actually knows how mentally fucked up i got these past months. No one knows how badly i´ve been treating myself and how badly i´ve been doing. Still, i can´t tell anyone but scream it into the tumblr void. No one has to keep up with my shit. No one has to take care of me. After all, it was I who chose solitude. It was me who kept them away. But I don´t get a second choice. I don´t get a change of routes if things go sour. And i guess I don´t get to get a mentally fucked up friend group where I belong for a second time. Once was good enough, wasn´t it? I.. Even when I wasnt as deep as i am now (again) into kagepro, ive always wanted to die on August 15. It holds meaning to me now as well. Every year I used to ask people to go out with me that day. I know im not brave enough to kill myself. I always hoped for a lil miracle i guess. Last year was the first year...I didn´t do anything. I just... I just hope this year i can make it. I hope the miracle happens this year....I can only hope......its too late for me to be saved, isn´t it? I never thought it´d be like this. I don´t get closure. I don´t get goodbyes. I am left behind on a world that keeps moving. I am nothing.

#long post #hinatalks #we live in a society #fr fr #when i die....if god is real..i´ll end this once and for all. all of it #i am left with nothing but pain and anger.... i cant even feel anymore. i think i forgot how to

[solastia]

Feels So Right  | 1

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader

Word Count: 1,804

Summary: Yoongi’s falling in love with his neighbor. She’s beautiful, talented, has the same sense of humor, great taste in music - and she’s married. 

Warnings: Emotional manipulation, domestic violence(all from the male OC, not our main characters). Infidelity. Eventual smut. 

Notes: Commissioned by @ehn-ee-elle (I probably made it angstier than you wanted and I’m sorry. I’m unable to stop myself) 

I was originally going to try to make this just one long one shot, but the ideas I had for it and the pacing I needed for their relationship would have made it way too long. So here we go with another series! It won’t be a very long one, as I’m hoping to be able to keep it between three and four chapters. I also really wanted to get this first chapter finished and published since I’m still working on Break My Stride and Tuqburni as well. P.S. Potato the pug is my dog irl. That’s right, I did a dog insert. Behold his awesomeness. 

“A curse upon all people that decide to move in the middle of the night like psychos,” Yoongi groans, cracking his neck as he forces himself out of bed. He could have sworn that he’d even heard screaming and crying, and not the good kind. Just the type of neighbors everyone dreams about.  

He grabs the worn black hoodie draped across his computer chair and pulls it on. A quick glance down to make sure he even has pants on is good enough. It’s too early for him to care about anyone seeing his Iron Man lounge pants. 

Yoongi yawns loudly, ruffling his hair as he walks towards the front door. His little brown poodle is running circles around him, yapping and hopping around in excitement over getting to go outside. He shoves his feet into his slippers and hooks Holly onto his leash, cracking open the door and hissing at the too bright sunlight. 

Sneaking a peek at the door next to his, he notes that all the shades were drawn and the apartment seemed silent now. Probably because they’d stayed up all night moving in, thereby keeping him awake too. Too bad he didn’t get the luxury of catching up on his sleep today since he had to work. 

With an annoyed sigh, he leads Holly down the stairs to his favorite patch of grass, watching in fond amusement as the poodle takes his usual sweet time to find just the perfect spot. Usually, this was one of his favorite times of the day, since it was often just him and Holly in the silence of the early morning. Just them and the birds, with Yoongi working on some melody in his head while Holly spends five minutes eating grass he’s just going to puke up later. 

Of course, as per his luck during the past twenty-four hours, this was ruined too.

“POTATO! Get back here, mister!”

A woman was coming out of the newly moved into apartment, chasing after a chubby pug that was staring right at Holly as he ran. She had the leash in her hands as she stumbled after him, still shoving what looked like Bulbasaur slippers onto her feet in her rush to catch the little escapee. 

The pug went right for the startled Holly, trying his best to entice him into playing with his fat wiggling butt and snorts. Holly has never been the most social of dogs, much like his owner, but he wasn’t attacking the thing so that was good at least. Yoongi grinned when Holly looked up at him like he was asking for help. 

“I am so sorry. He’s sneakier than he looks sometimes,” the owner apologized breathily as she glared at the dog. 

“It’s all good. He seems friendly enough, and Holly’s just not used to other dogs being here.” 

“Well, I can certainly see why he was in such a rush. She’s a cutie.” 

“Holly’s a boy, actually.” 

She smiled politely, but he could see the unasked question behind her eyes. 

“My brother named him,” he shrugged. “Also, I don’t think someone who named their dog Potato has any right to judge.” 

“Oh come on, look at him. He’s literally a breathing potato,” she gestures to the pug that was now rolling in the grass in another attempt to engage Holly, only he couldn’t really make it all the way around. 

“I call him Tae for short most of the time if that makes it any better,” she shrugs with a grin, and Yoongi had to contain his snort. Wait until his friend Taehyung learned a fat pug shared his name. 

They lapsed into a comfortable silence as they watched their dogs. Holly was reluctantly letting the pug follow him around, not reacting when Potato tried to convince him to play but not stopping him from pouncing or nipping at him.  Yoongi thought Holly might be a little in shock that someone wanted to be his friend. 

“So we’ve established that’s Potato and Holly. I’m Y/N,” the woman said with a shy smile. 

“Uh, yeah. Min Yoongi.” 

Her grin widened, “Nice to meet you, Yoongi.” 

He wasn’t sure what it was, but something about the way that she said his name made him finally take a good look at her. She was pretty cute, actually, something he’d failed to notice over the shock of her dog’s entrance. He couldn’t help the flicker of interest as he subtly looked her over, the black tank and yoga pants flattering enough on her that he could excuse the ridiculous slippers. She was sporting a few bruises that she must have gotten during the move, making him wonder why she didn’t have help. 

“Which apartment are you guys in?” 

“207,” Yoongi drawls with a quirked eyebrow. 

“Oh, we’re in 208! That’s so...oh no! We probably kept you up last night, didn’t we? I’m so sorry. That was the last time I was going to have help for the next couple of days,” she holds a hand to her chest as her eyes implore him to understand and he just melts. 

“It’s no biggie. We’re night owls, anyway,” he shrugs, preening as her smile lights back up. 

“Well, most of the big stuff is put away already, so I hopefully won’t be too annoying to listen to. I do play my acoustic guitar a lot, but if you let me know what your usual schedule is, I’ll wait until you’re gone so I don’t bother you.” 

He was about to ask more about that when Holly decides to make his desire to leave known, walking straight to the stairs that led to their floor and pulling on the leash as he turned to stare at Yoongi. 

“Looks like his highness is ready to go home,” he sent her a crooked grin as he reluctantly turns to leave. 

Y/N giggles cutely and waves at him. “Yeah, we’ll still be a few minutes. Tae will want to check out all the new bushes. It was nice to meet you.” 

Yoongi nods and obediently follows his dog, letting Holly lead him all the way home. Once inside he kicks off his slippers and releases Holly, snorting as the dog goes right to his bed to sleep. Apparently, only a few minutes of interaction with the hyper pug tired him out. 

He stared at his blinds and decided to ignore his creepy desire to peek out of them and watch her. He shook his head and went about his day instead, totally not thinking of bright smiles and or the fact that her socks were different colors. 

He came home from work around four and found a little gift bag hanging from his door handle. He grabbed it and peeked inside, the smell of fresh baked chocolate chip cookies hitting him instantly. A little slip of paper was tucked inside, so he pulled it out and scanned it. 

Going to be hanging some stuff on the walls. Here’s an apology treat! It shouldn’t take me too long, but if you need me to stop at any time let me know! 

-Your totally awesome not annoying on purpose neighbor

Yoongi snorts and goes inside, munching on one of the cookies as he does. He’s not usually one for sweets, but they aren’t bad. Holly is anxiously circling his ankles waiting for him to drop something, but he was going to be disappointed today. As he pictured her cooking these and wrapping them up all nice just for him, he knew he was going to be eating every single one.  

Sure enough, a light banging sounds against their connected wall, although he thought it seemed like she was trying to do it quietly with little taps instead of outright hammering. It was going to take her forever doing it like that. 

He also heard some music playing, but couldn’t quite make it out. Letting his curiosity take over, he pressed his ear against the wall. He figured if he heard something like Justin Beiber or Nickleback that would cure the strange curiosity he had about this woman. 

Instead, the familiar rap-heavy collab track of Epik High, Born Hater,  flowed through the room. His lips quirked as he heard her attempting to rap like Bobby. She sounded cute, even if she was failing horribly. 

Suddenly, the door slammed next door, hard enough to make his own apartment shake a little. 

“What’s for dinner?”

That was a male voice. Of fucking course. Why wouldn’t he be interested in someone that was fucking taken. 

“I could throw together some spaghetti if you want? I wasn’t sure when to cook since you were supposed to be home three hours ago.” 

She sounded so timid, and it just seemed off. It was nothing like the beaming voice he’d heard earlier. 

“I had stuff to do.” 

“Were you with her?” 

“For fucks sake, Y/N. I told you I ended it. Isn’t that why we moved? To start over? A little hard to do when you keep bringing up old stuff.” 

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” 

“I’ll be in the bedroom. Let me know when dinners ready.” 

Yoongi was kicking himself for being a creep and listening in like that, but holy shit that guy was an asshole. That was some textbook manipulation and she just fell right into it. And to stay with someone that had obviously cheated? Why? 

Part of him wanted to go over there and break the guy's nose, but he shook his head and walked away from the wall instead. He didn’t know the whole story, he told himself. It was none of his business. ‘

None of his business, he reminded himself over the next few days, even as he could hear her crying through their walls at night only to be met with her beaming smile as they met up every morning. 

#bts #bts fanfic #bts scenario #yoongi #yoongi fanfic #yoongi scenario #yoongi x reader #kpop #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #feels so right #solastia

[bonesandpoemsandflowers]

So here’s a thing that happened, tumblr.

Many moons ago, I was in the Neuro ICU for a while. I was actually in there twice--for a week at first, then out, then in again for about two weeks. In between: “Nothing’s wrong! It’s resolved!” As you might imagine, given the spoiler there about how I went to the Neuro ICU twice: in fact, Something was wrong, and it was not resolved (then).

(it is resolved now, thank you)

This post is not actually ABOUT that, but we must start there, out of order.

This is a post about art and rivers and boys in cars. But we start in the Neuro ICU.

I don’t like talking about this time in my life. I would have been skittish and mysterious ANYWAY--I was raised like that--but I’m extra skittish and vague about my timeline because I don’t want to talk about it, you know? I survived something I had no business surviving. I had to relearn how to walk. That took months and that was the easy part. Because I am a big tiddy goth girl, and because I was very young then, people love to assume that the problem was drugs, and I did it to myself, as if that somehow makes anything less tragic.

I was 23 years old with a brain bleed due to a congenital defect, and even at the time, I had to defend myself: no, I’m not on drugs, I don’t do drugs, I didn’t do coke, I’ve never done coke.

I am also Colombian, which, I suppose, might play into their calculus about the coke, but WHO KNOWS. I was busy gibbering and almost dying at the time, which left little energy for noticing potential microaggressions.

Is it a microaggression, I guess, when you’re dying? Who knows.

I have never even been drunk, tumblr. I don’t drink. I don’t smoke. I don’t snort. I never have. This is mostly because I’m a paranoid loon with an off again, on again anorexia, ya know, thing, so occasionally I get really hung up on irrational concepts of bodily purity. People think it’s a flex when I try to explain this, that I’m relishing in some kind of moral superiority. I’m not. I admitting to SEVERAL defects (“quirks”) of personality there. The eating disorder. The deep distrust: I will not be vulnerable in the presence of others, I will not dull my senses, I will not allow myself to be weak. A certain perfectionism. A certain tendency towards slow burn self harm. Grand ideas made of nothing that sometimes take hold.

My point is that this big disruptive thing happened.

I survived, which is AWESOME. And yeah, I had to relearn how to walk, and some other things, but you guys know that I do yoga and aerial silks and lyra and ran off to Thailand to train kickboxing for a summer on fighter street and I STILL do not shut the fuck up about it.

So, cool, cool cool cool cool.

And I don’t even want to talk about that part, the medical drama, the body horror, the institutional whatever. My neurosurgeon was fantastic and like a week after my discharge I was high as SHIT on prescribed painkillers my caregivers insisted I take and wrote him a gushing effusive letter about how he was MY HERO because I was ALIVE and anyway that basically makes you BATMAN, DOCTOR LEWIS, I FUCKING LOVE BATMAN.

Again: high as fuck, ok.

 My point is: I hate talking about this.

Because once you’re a survivor in people’s minds, that’s all you are. You are reduced to this one event that had very little to do with you. You are defined by this thing that happened to you.

And this isn’t even the weirdest thing that’s happened TO me! But still. Happened TO me. Not something I did. Not my action. Barely even my reaction.

But again, personality flaws. What does it say about me that I look at social norms about comfort and inwardly I snarl that I want no one’s pity?

Except I’m not actually that mean. I don’t snarl.

I just withdraw.

This is a tactic that has served me well in life a BUNCH of times. Is it always the answer? No. Is it often worth a shot? Listen. Yeah. Yeah, it is. Sometimes you flee an abusive home life because that’s the only option, and you don’t want to die. Hypothetically speaking: sometimes all you can do is run.

But sometimes you flee people with mostly good intentions, maybe.

This is all very high minded but what’s prompting me to write this isn’t exactly the upcoming (many year) anniversary of the event. It’s something way more mundane and dumb.

I have not logged into my facebook account since this happened. I never bothered deleting the account(s), either. I presume they still exist. I have no idea HOW to log back onto them, and, more importantly, no desire.

“So what?”

So, okay, back when I had my first stint in the Neuro ICU? Like, totally out of nowhere, I just disappeared from people’s feeds. (you all know I do this) Somehow part of the story got out and SOMEHOW, I have no idea how, a small group of my friends managed to independently track down the hospital I was at. And this is on next to no info, across state lines, like--I have no idea how the fuck they did it.

I also don’t fucking know who they were.

I was told, at the time. I have a vague idea of who two out of (I think) four were, or might have been. I was kind of busy at the time, with the dying.

And when I say I don’t like talking about this time: I don’t like even THINKING about it. I avoid it.

Fleeing. See?

So I don’t have a memory of the names. I don’t have memories of the memory.

“So what?”

So, I know from groups other than this one, groups less dedicated than this one, that people actually get REALLY fucking mad at you for not accepting their get better soon wishes. And like, I get it! You were very worried and I did nothing to reassure you.

I WAS BUSY.

I was busy dying. Almost dying. Not dying. I was busy sleeping 20 hrs a day. I was busy being unable to walk. I was busy re-learning to walk. I was busy relearning how to write with pen and paper and for months I COULD NOT DO IT, do you have any idea how that feels to someone who is and has always been and has always wanted to be a writer? Fuck it. Fuck you.

The initial disappearance. I am not to blame.

But then doing nothing to reach out to anybody for YEARS and YEARS--

Okay, maybe a dick move on my part.

“So what?”

So I think one of the people who managed to track me down in the hospital was my best friend from high school, a terribly sweet Brazilian boy who mostly called me not by my name, but simply: The Devil.

I dig it. Always did.

And it’s high school, right. Everybody is thirsty as fuck for their friends, one way or another. We never dated--we were both always dating or pursuing other people--but we had the typical high school bestie unresolved romantic tension deal going on.

This is important so remember it for later: the problem was not attraction. The problem was not one sided unresolved sexual tension. I had a particular thing for how he looked while driving, shades on, one arm slung over the wheel in that terribly and typically male lounging driving pose that’s probably a safety hazard.

We spent a lot of time in his car.

I didn’t drive, at the time, because my mother didn’t allow me to learn, and I got kicked out of my house and disowned when I was 17. This dude spent a LOT of time driving me places. Boys in cars is practically a genre of erotic poetry, thanks to Richard Siken. This is because boys look Cool driving cars, wearing sunglasses, pretending they’re not paying attention to you while you know they are.

So he was fun.

More importantly, I guess, the fact that he picked my ass up at like 6 AM over and over and over again for a big chunk of my senior year is one of the few reasons I managed to graduate despite being technically homeless.

He was not a morning person. I am not a morning person. He did it anyway.

Why didn’t we date, I wondered, years later, for a fraction of a second, and then I forgot about it.

“SO WHAT?!”

So I’m grown up and happy and fulfilled and in a lovely long term relationship (remember! we’re buying a house!), so it’s not about “what if?” It’s that I’m happy and grown up and I write books sometimes.

But there it is.

I write books sometimes.

Artists are constantly stealing ideas from everywhere and this is good. Artists also steal from themselves, grubby little hands on secret parts of our hearts.

So I’m writing this book, right. My Great Work. My Break Out Novel. My SERIOUS FUCKING BUSINESS book. My “this is the thing I’ve worked the hardest on in my whole entire LIFE” book.

And in this book there is a male love interest. He is a political statement. I’m writing him as sexy and heroic as possible. I want this to be the MOST attractive man I’ve ever written.

Latino. Sexy as fuck. Not a criminal. Overly responsible. Action ready, and terribly nurturing.

Hot Single Dad and Reluctant Necromancer is my masterpiece. A passionate statement and stance against the depiction of Latino men in media. A war cry to examine our own subconscious biases. A weapon raised against an unjust system.

I stole parts of him from Frank Castle. I stole parts of him from Geralt. I stole (MANY) parts of him from this one IRL hot dad former Army Ranger guy, Mexican American with a tattoo on his arm of a jack o lantern one of his kids drew. I stole parts of him from this cute Marine in my DMs who gave me story advice about guns and gear. I stole parts of him from indigenous leaders from centuries ago, from the peoples he is descended from. I stole parts of him from every man I’ve met who worked in dog rescue. I stole parts of him from myself, hiding secret parts of my heart in the male character so that no one will know.

Lovely. All good so far.

I got like two whole drafts in before I was thumbing through some printed out pages, idly thinking: how funny that I don’t have any real life, personal to me models for this guy.

All my prior male love interests, you see, are based on someone. In the werewolf trilogy, they’re BOTH based on someone--different someones. The villain, too, is jokingly referred to as the “evil werewolf ex boyfriend” for a reason.

Everybody is someone.

So how funny, I thought, that necromancer hot dad lacks any references from my own--

OH, wait, fuck--

Overly responsible brown dude with sad dog eyes drives the female lead/occult specialist around while good naturedly complaining that she’s weird as shit.

Oh, damn.

And suddenly a bunch of teensy little backstory details made sense.

Cool.

“So what?”

Bonus round of self realization: my own understanding of this time in my life radically shifted, turning, lurching, sickly rotating on a new axis.

Why didn’t we date?

Somewhere between then and now, post ICU but pre novel writing time--

This one time I overheard somebody talking to somebody else and it had nothing to do with me but sight unseen, on the other side of the stacks in a used bookstore, one dude said to another: “you know that if you were lighter, you’d have a chance with her, right?”

How terrible, I thought, and I forgot about it.

Why didn’t we date?

Because my mother told me, when I was very young, that boys from Brazil were all very wild, and I should avoid them. And she told me this so early and so plainly that I never thought to question it. When I was older she took harder stances that I easily ignored because I knew they were wrong--don’t you dare bring a black boy into this house. You’re dating a Jew? I can’t believe you did this to me. What are you going to do next, kiss a girl?

WELL, Ma, as it turns out, I mean, not til college, but yes.

But the smaller, more mild statement was so much more insidious.

I wonder if he knew. I don’t think he did. I wonder if he figured it out later. I have no idea, because we were friends when we were still essentially children, and now we are grown. Not everybody thinks about this kind of thing, and I don’t blame them.

How much damage did I do?

Does it matter?

Does he know?

I know.

I know, now, that my rallying cry against a system’s unfairness is also a cry wrenched wetly from my own subconscious depths. YOUR biases against? Yes. But more accurately: my biases against.

“So what?”

So this kind of epiphany shit leaves you breathless about it and you wanna scream. You wanna SHARE it. You must infect others with this knowledge.

But you can’t out of nowhere foist this apology on someone. That’s selfish. That’s about redeeming yourself in your own eyes AND asking someone else to confront unpleasant emotions on your behalf, even though they’re the wronged party. Selfish. Tell me I’m not a bad person, baby. Tell me I never hurt you, not even a little. Forgive me if I did. Wade through this pile of astral shit for me just to make me feel better. Reassure me. Hurt yourself for me in the here and now.

So I’m not going to do that, obviously.

“So what?”

But there’s that other part of it, right? Not the apology. The surge of emotion. The realization that all those morning drives back then added up to something deep within me, something so foundational to my concept of care and maybe even the start of something like love--the knowledge that this person gently carved some ideals for you, so long ago, so subtly that you never questioned it, never even realized, because it felt so natural, because something about it is so inherently good and right.

Despite everything--despite society, propaganda, colonialism, the prejudice of my upbringing, my own unexamined complicity, ALL of it--

Despite everything, this person taught me something so deeply about love and the shape of it, something so foundational that I built all my art on it and didn’t even see the beams of it until halfway through my most ambitious and soul bearing undertaking.

This is how you care for another, went the lesson, and I wrote pragmatic actions over words romantic male leads all the way down.

This is what love might look like, and in my own life, ever ambitious, I chose a poet talented with words and actions and good fight choreography, because I think that’s sexy and dichotomies are mostly bullshit, or at least things that happen to other people.

But I didn’t learn what love looked like from my childhood home life, obviously. How could I?

Without you, though, without you and your mirror sunglasses at 6 AM and your exasperated teasing, devil, witch, bruja, without any of those, where would I have learned? How long would it take me, to find someone who would teach me a wholesome lesson?

I’m small and cute and predators love a victim with a lack of context. I give myself and my wit some credit, but what’s pattern recognition worth if you never get any good data points?

Deep lessons.

Again: this kind of epiphany makes you wanna scream. Who to infect, with all this new knowledge?

Maybe no one. Probably no one.

But maybe, just a little, you wonder--

How would that conversation even go?

Hey, so I wrote this book--no, it’s my fifth, not my first, but thanks--so I wrote this book, and there’s this character, right, and he’s--well, hahah, I mean, he’s not exactly--I just--funny story, really--no, god, no, you don’t have to read it--it’s just--he’s just--I mean, no, you, you’re just--forget it, actually, just--

Like, what the fuck is there to say?

“I couldn’t have written this without you.”

And

“Did you check on me? When you thought I was dead?”

and

“I’m sorry I didn’t notice, at the time, that I meant anything to you.”

or is it really

“I’m sorry I didn’t realize until now that you meant something to me.”

What to do with all this emotion? Or more accurately--like rivers carve out gorges, here is the shape of something that once was. This shape will always be here. Even without a single drop of water ever again: we see the river.

What to do with the shape of all this emotion?

I consult the great Richard Siken via a feat of bibliomancy. Advise me, O Oracle. The oracle is War of the Foxes (2015), turned over blindly in my hands, opened randomly to The Worm King’s Lullaby, pg 45, verse 1:

The holes in this story are not lamps, they are not wheels. I walked and walked, grew a beard so I could drag it in the dirt, into a forest that wasn’t there. I want to give you more but not everything. You don’t need everything.

This advice is too good. I close the book.

The advice does not tell me what to do, but it’s too good. The verse reaches into my chest and carves out my heart, slices it open. Inside my heart: pomegranate seeds. Tiny jewels, fit for a dragon, snacking on garnets and rubies, and the apple of Eden wasn’t an apple, because it was the desert, wasn’t it? It was a pomegranate. Something with scales, maybe snakes. The serpent, the devil.

What to do with all this love?

I swallow the pomegranate seeds. I buy myself some time. I want to give you more, but not everything. Do you need everything? I don’t know. I don’t have it to give to you, in any case. Does it matter?

Why are you doing this, me?

Because art is messy. Art is cutting yourself open over and over again. You clean up most of the mess, try to bottle the fluids and label them nicely or deliberately misleadingly, fit for someone else’s consumption, but either way, you’re bleeding.

Maybe this urge is bleed with me or maybe it is oh, you already did.

I swallow the seeds. I buy some time.

I’m not done yet. I’m not.

Maybe all this adds up to nothing.

Maybe if I do this right, it adds up to a lot.

Maybe if I do this right it will feel real, maybe what I want is to gift the shape of these rivers to somebody else, all emotionally intimately with strangers. This is a shape that love can be. This is a silhouette you may recognize.

Maybe that’s a tribute, or a tributary.

But it’s not about you, not really, so don’t get too big headed about it. This is about Art and something like Justice. Big things. This is a book about big things, about history and dogs, history and gods, crimes and lies, slaughter and slander.

Right, yeah.

An act of faith, an act of will.

I swallow the pomegranate seeds. I buy myself some time.

It’s not harvest season yet. Not yet, not now, not yet.

If not now, then when?

When it’s ready.

There is no ready. Perfection is an illusion.

Yeah, sure, but page count is REAL.

You’re evading. That’s another word for fleeing. Do you know that?

Yes. I do.

How long will you run?

Just a little bit more. Just a little. I promise.

#it was boiling / i run to the sea #'i wrote this book because REPRESENTATION also possibly an unresolved crush from high school i am pure LITERATURE' #i have done everything in my power to find you! except get on LinkedIn

[rogerina-deacon]

Blurb of Gwilym fighting with the other boys cause they flirt with you (Gwil is your best friend who fancies you) When you stick up for the other boys he gets angry and kinky!!! You know just some nice, rough, dominant Gwil sex!

A/N: This is kinda long so smut is under the cut!

“Okay guys, that’s enough!” Gwil warned his friends when Joe made one comment too many.

“What, Gwil? Just giving the pretty lady a compliment.” Joe said with a wink your way, making heat rise to your cheeks.

“Yeah mate, I’m surprised you haven’t told her how stunning she looks tonight.” Ben said before taking a sip of his beer, hoping his and Joe’s plan to get him to finally make a move would work.

“Guys, just calm down. Gwil, it’s fine, okay?” You told him, hoping that he’d be a sucker for you, like he always is. When you asked him to do something, he’d do it in a second, trying to be the greatest best friend he could be.

“No, Y/N, it’s not. C’mon, I need to talk with you.” He said, getting up from the chair and putting his hand out for you to take, which you did, and he led you to his bedroom, which didn’t exactly surprise you. He wanted a private place to talk, what better than his room?

“Gwil, what’s going on? Why are they getting on your nerves so easily tonight?” You asked, brushing his arm with your hand in an attempt to calm him, but it only seemed to make matters worse as you noticed his jaw clench.

“What’s going on? Y/N, they are relentlessly flirting with you, of course that bothers me! Why wouldn’t it?” He snapped, making you gulp and take a step back as you calculated a response.

“Well, for starters, you aren’t my boyfriend, Gwil. You don’t have a right to get jealous like thi-”

“Jealous? Y/N, I am not-”

“Why else would you have a problem with them complimenting me? Gwil, just tell me what’s going on.” You pleaded, eyes soft as they searched his.

“Fine. I love you, okay? I’ve loved you since I first fucking met you, but I was too fucking scared I wouldn’t have you in my life if I made a move!” He said, irritated, and his confession just made you smile as you took a step towards him.

“Gwil, I’ve loved you all this time too.” You reassured him, placing a hand on his shoulder as the other brushed strands of hair away from his face, staring lovingly up at him the entire time. As soon as he processed everything, he wasted no time in connecting his lips with yours, starting soft but getting rougher the longer he thought over everything Ben and Joe had said about you. Gripping your hips, he started leading you backwards to his bed, trailing his mouth to your jaw and neck, kissing and sucking gently, enough to just barely leave marks on the soft flesh. His ministrations made you sigh and moan, the both of you growing more aroused by the second.

“Do you want this, love?” He asked, breaking away for a second to look up at you with soft puppy-dog eyes.

“I’ve wanted this for a while, Gwil.” You told him, and he smiled before working on your collarbone, not leaving an inch untouched by his lips. Just as he reached your breasts, he quickly removed your shirt and bra frantically before attaching his lips around your nipple, the sudden contact making you moan louder than before as he sucked and swirled his tongue around the nub, your hands laced in his hair pulling him closer.

“Baby, I-I need you, please.” You begged of him, needed more.

“Want my fingers, love?” He asked, toying with the waistband of your pants before slowly undoing the button of your jeans and tugging them down.

“No, I- do you have condoms? I want you inside me, Gwil.” You asked softly, and he wasted no time in switching positions with you, turning you over to lay down on the bed as he rummaged through his bedside drawer for some protection. His cock was so hard it almost hurt, straining to make his already tight trousers even tighter, and you could tell, unable to take your eyes off his crotch. Crawling closer to him, you began working on his belt, swiftly pulling it through his belt loops before tossing it to the ground. Just as you were about to undo the button of his pants, he found the foil packaging and shut the drawer.

“I’ve got it, love, you don’t have to do a thing.” He said, taking your hands before pulling them away. He was acting sweet for now, but the longer the thoughts of everything his friends said about you over the years percolated in his mind, the rougher his demeanor got. He practically ripped off his shirt before doing the same to his pants and boxers, his impressive length springing free from the confines of his trousers. It was raging, red and throbbing against his stomach as precum already lightly pooled from his tip down his shaft. Your eyes were glued to it, your mouth watering at the sight instinctively, your pussy growing wetter and wetter by the second the longer you stared at him. A smirk grew on his face as he saw your reaction, making his way to the bed and climbing on top of you. Somehow, you still had your pants on, and Gwil was quick to change that, pulling down your leggings and lace panties in one movement down your legs to reveal your glistening heat to him.

“You’re sure you don’t want me to eat you out first? Would fuckin’ love to devour that cunt” he said, punctuating his last word, the loaded synonym for your pussy letting you know his demeanor for the night.

“Gwil please just do something, I need you so bad it aches” You begged, and he took your ankles in his hands, pulling them up.

“’M afraid I’m aching too, love. Are you ready?” He said, moving your calves to rest on his shoulders before rolling the condom on. You were nodding frantically, desperate to have him fill you up and pleasure you.

“Use your words, baby” He encouraged, taking his cock by the base and running the tip through your folds, lining himself up at your entrance.

“Yes, please, I’m ready” You confirmed, whimpering, and he entered you slowly, studying your face to make sure you were comfortable. You were tight around him, your walls contracting as he stretched you and filled you with every inch. Bottoming out, you felt him deep inside you, making you hiss at how far he reached. He noticed the pain, and removed himself a bit so as to not cause you any pain. But this waiting time for you to get adjusted was just giving him more time to think, and although you couldn’t see it, his jaw was clenching and his grip on your hips was tight enough to leave bruises.

Once your breathing slowed, Gwil couldn’t restrain himself from thrusting faster than he normally would his first time with a girl. His head was thrown back between his shoulder blades, one of his arms snaking under you ass to fuck you at a better angle. His thrusts were sloppy as he hit your g-spot, and he was grunting through curses and mumbles you couldn’t decipher the words of. But his mumbles got louder and clearer the more he got lost in the moment.

“That’s right, baby girl, moan for me, let them know how good I make you feel, fuckin scream so Ben and Joe know you are mine, not theirs to flirt with and to fuck.” He said, and when his thumb moved to rub your clit you couldn’t help but obey and moan louder than before, the sounds filling the apartment, as well as the surrounding ones. But Ben and Joe had left five minutes into you and Gwil being in his bedroom, figuring if you weren’t out by then you were getting ready to fuck. But honestly, you were so loud they could probably still hear you across town, your whimpers and moans guaranteeing a noise complaint.

Gwil bent over and pulled your ass up further, making the angle even more delightful, and you came undone on his cock soon after, your orgasm washing over you in waves, whole body twitching and moving as the pleasure completely took over you. And the feeling of you cumming around his cock triggered Gwil’s orgasm, his cum spurting into the reservoir of the condom as he grunted and moaned, his thrusts slowing as he worked both of you through your highs.

“Fuck, that was amazing.” You said, coming down from your orgasm.

“That it was” He agreed, removing himself from you before disposing of the condom, tying off the end before tossing it into the trash.

“So, dinner tomorrow night?” he asked, and you nodded as post-coital bliss overtook you, Gwil moving to rest beside you before pulling you into him, the two of you cuddling with dopey smiles on your faces until you fell asleep for the night.

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#gwilym lee blurb #gwilym lee x reader smut #gwilym lee x reader #gwilym lee smut #gwilym lee

[folerdetdufoler]

Why don’t you read fanfic? Especially considering that you write it?

short answer is that i’m an egomaniac and insecure as HELL, threatened by other people’s talent and skill.

long answer, which justifies all of the above, is…

- i write for myself. i write my fantasies. sometimes they start as prompts from other people, but they become the story that i dream about, the one that lives in my middle distance throughout the day. that’s what i’m interested in. i’m not interested in these characters in other people’s fantasies, in their AUs or crossovers or even canon-compliant stories, especially if the characters do not match up with how i think they are “supposed to” act/think/look. because i’m so stuck in my own head i know i won’t find someone else’s appealing, and would most likely try to invalidate someone else’s fantasy.

- i am scared that if i do read someone else’s writing, i will unconsciously pick up a characteristic or a line or SOMETHING and use it in my own. then a reader will recognize it and i will be accused of stealing said THING. ever since this plagiarism accusation rocked the book publishing world i have carried that around as one of my biggest fears. this fandom is literally my entire social circle, and i would be devastated by such a fall from grace, shunned and unable to recover. having no IRL friends and a family that barely remembers me mentioning “that norwegian show” over a year ago, i’d…lose everything.

- if i were to read someone else’s universe/trope/pairing/whatever, i would think “okay it’s already been done, i don’t need to write it,” because it 100% is better than anything i could come up with so…why bother? why put effort into something that would be a disappointment to myself, if not others? surely this makes sense to everyone complaining about the remakes because they just want more of the superior/original show.

- i realize the absolute IRONY of all of this, that i would have a much better chance of not accidentally copying someone, or writing a different, incomparable version of something someone else has already done, if i just…fucking…read…fanfiction. but deep down i must think that my versions of these characters are superior, and that julie’s version is the goddamn bible. i especially don’t want this opinion of someone’s treatment of characters to cloud my opinion of them. there are so many lovely people in this fandom, who are kind and generous and funny and smart and hard-working and talented, and i don’t want to end up thinking lesser of them for as ridiculous a reason as their headcanons or writing style or whatever the fuck i would find at “fault.”

- knowing this, knowing that i think so highly (yet little) of myself, only sets me up to read something and look for reasons why it is Not Good™. not only would i not enjoy it, but i would actively point out what’s wrong, and they wouldn’t be valid criticisms. all in the name of making myself feel better about my own writing! which is not the point of fanfiction! so knowing that i would be a bitch about all of it, not reading it in the first place helps me avoid that fate. a little bit. i’m still a bitch, but it’s probably less noticeable if we don’t interact. like that anon a while back who wished i would just not watch skam austin because all of my opinions about it were negative? well, i’m not reading fanfic because all of my opinions about them would be negative, and i would not be able to stop myself from voicing those opinions in an ass-backward way of validating myself.

- if i am not judging other peoples’ work, then readers have less incentive to judge my own. i mean, they are certainly welcome to! i honestly appreciate any and all feedback, no matter how negative, because i believe it would only help me improve my writing. but i also think that if people saw me being negative, they would be more inclined to criticize my work in the same manner, which, as we can all see now, would not actually be proper critique but merely a projection of my own fears and insecurities. i can’t take it, so i’m not about to dish it out in the first place.

- i know i’m missing out on some great work. i still bookmark things that people send to me, in hopes that i get the fUCK OVER MYSELF and can appreciate life again. i see y’all talking about fic and i’m jealous that you’re able to enjoy them so much that you want to shout about it to anyone who will listen. i do, i do want to understand what the deal is with isak and glasses, to swoon and cry and anticipate the next chapter. but i know myself. i know i will get in the way of all of that.

- i don’t even read my own writing. which is in direct conflict with my burning desire to be as accurate in my universes as possible, as well as my opinion that my own writing is simply the best. like, just yesterday i found out that uber is illegal in norway, and i’m pretty sure i had even using it in scene three, take two (because i think i read a tripadvisor post about uber from 2016 that said it existed but wasn’t terribly popular outside of the city, lol great research skillz kerry). i am itching to update my fic, but i also am afraid that if i start reading it again, i’ll want to change this, and then this too, and that thing, oh and this whole chapter, actually fuck all of this bullshit i’m just going to delete it.

ugh. fuck. short answer, i’m a goddamn mess, and i’ll have five more reasons to prove it by tomorrow morning. and every morning after that. y’all don’t need this shit.

#kerrywrites #kerryrants #my entire house is about to explode from the amount of self-loathing i'm radiating rn #i really should just quit before i do something i would regret

[acindra]

❤❤❤❤❤❤

-cracks knuckles- 6 things? let’s do this.

I know I say this occasionally, but its been a while since the last time so- I print out/keep pretty much everything given to me. If it’s art or pictures, I put it on my walls (as you can see here). If it’s writing, I have it printed out and stored in my bookshelf with my other prized books. I also have a journal specifically of things that have happened in FYRTFF Chat. And then for all the dolls or blankets or figurines or jewelry I’ve gotten they’re scattered around my room. The reason why I have these things basically everywhere in my room is because I have to remind myself that I’m surrounded by love, even when I’m really down and hating myself and I don’t believe it. Also I like to be able to point at anything in my room and say so-and-so made this! Because I love creation.

My favourite soda is cherry coke

One time when I was living with The Boys back in uni I got stomach flu immediately after my friend Richard cleaned the coffee maker with vinegar. This has resulted in me being unable to handle vinegar. TBF I didn’t like it much to begin with, and things like ketchup and fucking sinegang and adobo (which are Filipino foods that my mom makes a lot because my brother loves them) really turned me off on vinegar anyways. And then after the mental illness set in and I was Not Functioning there was the fruit flies thing where you catch them by putting soap in a cup with apple cider vinegar. So for like the three years I was still trying to do uni away from home I had to deal with that smell. Yeah. I don’t like vinegar.

Speaking of Filipino foods, I have recently had a lot of feelings about my heritage. If you’ve seen pics of me, I look pretty fucking white (partially because I literally do not go outside. Outside in Florida is HELL), but I’m only half. My dad’s white and my mom is Filipino and Chinese and grew up in the Philippines. It’s kinda weird but I was raised American for the most part, but my formative years were in Japan. So like I have all of these bits and pieces of different cultures but I don’t fit in with any of them? Which actually is something that really bothers me. And I didn’t realize it bothered me this much until I joined the Be More Chill fandom where a looooot of the people (specifically artists I guess. I mainly follow artists because I am an art slut) are Filipino and I remember there was this post going around where it was like shout out to the Filipino creators in the fandom and I was like cool! I should reblog that! But then there was a lot of Tagalog (which I know only like 3 words of) and it reminded me that I don’t really count? I guess? I don’t know? So I’m thinking about that recently, but it, like most things in my life (like being trans or ace) has to take a fucking backburner to my mental illness because otherwise I cannot function. I’m toying with writing a boyf riends fic about Michael having these feelings to vent because I think that’d be interesting but I dunno if anyone else will.

I’m very bitter about my friends. Well. Specifically my friends from real life. And I hate that I am bitter about it because it’s stupid and petty. Basically when the mental illness hit (and I know I say that a lot, but it literally was like being hit by a truck. My doctor says I had a walking mental breakdown where I was tried to function until I literally could not and it felt very abrupt because I was trying to ignore that it was happening) I decided to withdraw from my social circles. Which I had many of. Like just for clubs at uni I was the secretary for the Gay Straight Alliance, I was an original member of the Harry Potter Conference Committee, I was president of the Juggling Club, I was a member of the Progressive Student Alliance. I Did Things, basically. And so I had a lot of friends. But after the mental illness hit I could barely take care of myself and social situations were so scary that I would cry trying to leave my room to go make food. So I resigned from my clubs and stuff. Fast forward to leaving my uni’s city for home because I couldn’t function, all communication basically stopped from my real life friends. And I mean, I don’t blame them. I really really don’t. Most of them didn’t know how to handle me and the ones that did probably had better things to do. Plus everyone was moving on with their lives now that we were pretty much out of uni. But it still really fucking hurts. I’m sure a part of it is also jealousy that they actually have lives and I do not, but that’s something I’ve been trying to suppress because it’s not like I can do anything about it at my level of functioning. I also try to suppress the bitterness but sometimes it rears its ugly head like recently when I had that suicidal episode and I realized I have literally no one I can turn to irl to escape my family; I felt isolated and abandoned. But! I do have my lovely mad chatters and I love them with all of my heart. So it’s not all bad.

I love Howl’s Moving Castle, both the book and the movie. And I’ve actually read the book aloud for @thisandthensome a year or two back for… one of the gift giving holidays. I don’t remember which one.

This ended up very long, I’m sorry. I tried to give you interesting things but I think I just ended up rambling. Whoops!

#Nonny Mouse #cinternet

[gryffindorkx]

So recently I've really been struggling with mental health problems. Like I've known I've had them for awhile but I've never known specifically, and I thought maybe it's just puberty? But I'm an adult now and going off to college and I'm sick of not being able to do normal things? And idk what to do, I don't want to tell my parents because I don't think they'll believe me? But I don't know if I can wait until college? And even in college I don't wanna be judged? I just dunno what to do...

this is too close to home that it feels like i just ghost messaged myself. i wanna help ya out buddy but how can i when i don’t even bother to save myself and my own sorry ass? however, you plucked out the courage to ask me for help and it would be an asshole move for me to just leave it be, so i’ll try my best on this.

from what i think, this might sound cliche and overused, but everyone needs a companion. if you feel like your parents won’t believe you and the thought of it only worries you, then don’t tell them first. think of someone else you can open up to, may it be a friend or relative or even someone on the internet. it doesn’t have to be someone you know personally and irl, the internet is a great place too plus i’ve met a lot of people here in tumblr who are open minded and can be empathetic with such things. 

theres also this option of telling someone unrelated to you, aka a stranger of sort. i’ve met people who don’t tell their personal problems to the ones they’re close with because they don’t want them to worry or make their loved ones doubt them, so they find it easier to tell someone they have no relationship or whatsoever with.

i get it, its scary to tell someone. even the very thought of it alone unnerves me that i can’t even grasp how it would go. its an easier choice to keep everything in because of our fear of people’s reactions and the confusion we get if we really have something fucked up with our head or not. but think back, can you really go on like this, keeping it all in?

if ever you do find someone you know you can talk to, you don’t have to tell them everything. just share what you can/with what you’re okay enough with to spill out. it’s absolutely okay not to tell them everything, but just enough for you to lift the weight off yourself. it also doesn’t have to be a face-to-face kind of situation. if you find it difficult to say things verbally but easier to express something out via texting or writing, do it that way.

however, if you’re like me who prefers to keep everything in because i don’t like the feeling of people knowing too much about me, a companion doesn’t have to be human. my cat helps me out a lot and just hanging out with him eases my mind. animals are great friends to be with and to help keep yourself together, or for me anyway.

and ok, this actually took a while to answer because i wasn’t sure if i should put down on how i deal with my own but you know what? i’m risking it and yelling fuck you at myself so here i go.

if you really can’t bring yourself to speak it out, then here is my suggestion of what i do: i distract myself. i keep my mind or body or both busy enough that i can push it aside momentarily. ironically, its what makes me move my body to exercise or do the chores around the house.

you can try and write down with what you’re good with and list down examples/experiences about it to remind yourself. you can make something, a doodle or those edits and moodboards or basically anything, and use it to express out how you feel. find and watch tv shows where you see characters that you can relate with and, in a way, have that character support your back. find things or use every trick at your disposal to keep yourself to just, you know, keep moving. for me, that’s already a lot.

but if it’s too much for you that it takes a huge toll on yourself, lie down and play your favorite songs and just stay that way for as long as you need. or take a hot shower which is then followed up by wearing your comfy clothes and digging in on your favorite snacks. even the small and simple things can help.

for me, i self disciplined myself to keep on moving and thats how i go about with my days. one of the big reasons why i write stories and create my own characters is because it’s the biggest and most effective distraction that i could ever do. ultimately, i grew to love it and became passionate about it that it actually helps take the weight off myself even if its just for a moment. being passionate about something is the best way for me to distract myself from my fucked up self because it gives me some kind of purpose. it doesn’t matter if its a fandom, a hobby, books, movies, use it for your own intentions. idk if i worded it out right.

lastly, have this post

i’m in college myself right now and trust me that it’ll get more complicated but i’m still here. not exactly alright, i admit, but i still keep struggling on. and i’ll wait for the day where you’ll message me again, but this time it’s because you’ve found your own way to somehow make it through the day. for others, it might not seem much, but for me that’s already a huge step because fuck what others think. we grow and go on in our own phase.

if i was unable to help you, i’m sorry. i truly am. just know that i can relate with you on this and that you’re not alone.

#i'm not even sure i gave you the answer you were looking for #but i hope you'll find this helpful or at the very least it eases you a bit #answered #anon

[ratmonky]

HOLY SHIT SO i’ve written to you before and i’ve been on your blog for a quite a while now like.. last year or more? i was always too shy to write even with anon on but i’m trying really hard to write comments to you! idk if you’d want comments even on your older docs or writings but im gonna try and make an effort to write to you more! ANYWAYS, YOUR ENGLISH IS SO GOOD!! i always wanted to say this— but like, you literally write so much better than many native english speakers. LIKE YOU WRITE SO WELL I CAN’T EXPLAIN IT— YOU’RE ONE OF MY FAVORITE AUTHORS. also, when you write for jjba, i was so happy because you wrote for a fandom i found relatively hard to find good writings about. and then when i got into jjk, I FOUND OUT YOU WROTE FOR IT TOO AND I’VE BEEN IN LOVE WITH ALL OF YOUR WORKS. i literally even read the five you make of fandoms i don’t even know because your writing is *THAT* good. and lately, i’ve been getting into using AO3, and then i also became really obsessed with gintama. i was searching for gintama fics on ao3 cause it was so hard to find any on other platforms and i read multiple really good ones AND THEN FOUND OUT IT WAS YOURS. I WAS SO HAPPY YOU DONT EVEN UNDERSTAND. anyways— i don’t know where im going with this ask, i’m sorry that it’s getting too long. BUT I REALLY LOVE YOUR GINTAMA FICS OMG. THEYRE LITERALLY A MASTERPIECE. the shinsuke one literally was so GOOD. like i re-read your works on the daily. YOUR SAKAMOTO ONE IS SMTH I READ BEFORE I SLEEP i really hope you make some more sakamoto ones in the future or maybe even katsura. i don’t really care, i’ll read everything you write anyway. sorry for the bother! please stay safe, healthy, and happy! thank you for writing for us! 💗

OH MY GOD A VETERAN WHO HAS SEEN MUNKEY EMBARRASS HERSELF FROM THEE BEGINNING TwT

a lot to unpack here ahh, first of all thank you for this ask!! it made me really happy!!!

please, you don't need to force yourself to comment! sending an ask is fine too and OMG getting comments on older fics are sooo wonderful for me cause i get to go back and reread my stuff! i post so many fics that sometimes i forget about the things i've written lol

thank you!!! i try to listen to audiobooks and podcasts to learn more words and improve my english!! i am so happy that it's working!!!

SO BASICALLY, I'M ALL OVER THE PLACE HUH? NHEJKVBJ

i write for many fandoms and like you can't predict which fandom i'll write for next, it's like a gambling without knowing the rules but still going all out hehe

i'm so so happy you've enjoyed my works and i'm so glad i've been able to provide you some sort of entertainment with different fics from different fandoms.

ok now fangirling time. gintama is the only fucking fandom i will never be able to leave, it had me in its clutches. it's the first anime i've ever watched, it has characters that made me into who i am today and if you met me irl you'd actually see the similarities. whether it be me being bullied (lovingly) by friends for being a munkey, me being unable to go a day without smoking or putting mayonnaise into food that shouldn't have mayo in it, me being emo and doing cool stuff my friends make fun of me for and lastly just me being the exact person gintoki is like. gintama is really and literally just me, as if it was made for me lmao (i know i don't make sense i just talk so fucking much when it comes to gintama because i love this show wayy too much and i hate that i will never be able to experience it for the first time ever again. i was fucking 8 when i watched this shit it's amazing how i'm still so invested in it)

okay okay back to the ask, uhhh i loved writing smothering silence omg, it was my favorite work in gintama before that shinsuke fic i wrote recently. ahh, don't worry, i'll definitely write more for gintama and omg... zura... i forgot about his goofy ass. hit me up with requests and i'll choose my favorite to write for him, it's so hard coming up with stuff for him when his whole existence is about wanting to fuck forlorn wives and having an ntr fetish???? like idk anymore this guy is too much for me hjwefbrgjr

again, thank you so much for this ask!! i... it reminded me of why i like posting here. it's just that i enjoy talking about the things i love and someone talking back. idk. i don't have weeb friends irl cuz i hide that part of myself (like toshi lol sorry i had to)

anywayyy i'm talking too much but yes thank you so much, you made my day!!! <3 <3 <3

#the way i was grinning so goofily reading this the entire time lmaooo #thank you anon!!!! i'm happy you're one of my readers and i hope i can write for the things you like in the future as well!!! <3