#and we're not normally looking for pity or compliments

[otaku6337]

Okay but can we normalise not always liking your own fics? 

Sometimes a fic just doesn’t go how you wanted, or you look back and consider it a poor representation of your writing, or it just fell short of what you wanted it to be. That’s okay. Not fun, not ideal, but okay. It happens sometimes.

I’m not saying I want it to happen to people, because I think it’s a shame when it does on a personal level (and I feel qualified to say this as two of my most popular fics I have genuinely disliked for a long time), but equally it makes sense. A lot of artists dislike some of their pieces.

And yet I never see it talked about in writing circles, or at least not seriously. And some people, when you say you dislike a piece, assume you’re fishing for compliments or that you need reassurance and whilst the latter is well-intentioned it often, I find, doesn’t help, because those flaws or negative connotations are still there. Please note that I’m differentiating, here, between concern/not liking how it is or may be taken by your readers - that is always something that I believe most writers like reassurance on. But that is about the reader, the reception of the writing, not about the actual piece of writing as an entity, and it’s the latter that I’m talking about here. It’s how you personally feel about something that you have written.

So I would love it to be normalised that sometimes when you finish a fic, you just might not like it, and that is completely and utterly valid. I wish it was more openly and seriously discussed, and that there wasn’t any shame, accusations of compliment-fishing, or offence taken from that discussion.

A reader can still enjoy a fic that the writer does not like; by saying that I don’t like X Fic that I wrote, I’m not saying that readers shouldn’t have enjoyed it, it’s just me saying that I’m not personally pleased with how it went. And as lovely as being told that someone enjoyed it is, unfortunately it just doesn’t help, and there’s no way to fix that base issue without completely rewriting, and sometimes even re-plotting, fics, something that most of us don’t have the time or energy to do, particularly if it’s a fic that is negative to even just think about.

Oh, and I feel like I should say that if you’re disliking all of your fics, then it’s likely that you’re not satisfied with a wider element of your writing, be it that you haven’t settled into your style, or that you’re currently growing so much that every time you finish something it already feels poor-quality to you. This is unsolicited advice so feel free to ignore it if you want, but to my experience and what I know of at least a few others, the answer to that is just practice really, hopefully with a bit of experimentation mixed in. 

It’s natural, statistically, to dislike a fic or three once you’ve written a fair number of fics (I have two that I severely dislike out of my... 200+ for BNHA, and one of my ~12 HP fics, and a few more that I either dislike chunks of or am ambivalent towards across all fandoms, to put some example numbers on it), and there is nothing wrong with that. It’s a shame, on a level of wanting to be proud of your own works, but half the time it shows your own growth because your writing is now of higher quality, so try not to be too hard on yourself if you do find yourself feeling this way.

Remember, it is absolutely a-okay to not love all of your own fics, and you’re not the only person to feel that way.

#fic writing #writing advice #or writing rambles? #something along those lines #normalise not having to love your own fics #normalise not always liking your own fics #I personally leave my fics that I don't like up for the sake of reader enjoyment #all three of my least favourite fics are relatively popular/have done fairly well #but honestly I don't blame people who orphan them or delete them #tis your fic your choice #ao3 #fandom etiquette #please be considerate of writers who don't love one of their own fics #it really does just happen without our intention #and we're not normally looking for pity or compliments #we're just trying to share our experiences #also please no discourse of oh I love all my fics though #because that's genuinely wonderful and I'm pleased for you #but you won't have been my target audience in that case #and that fact may one day change though I hope in many ways that it doesn't #not being satisfied with your fic is valid

[wordsarelife]

—gorgeous

pairing: mattheo riddle x fem!reader

summary: being in love with your best friend might be a bad idea, but drowning your sorrows in alcohol might be your worst one yet

warnings: underage drinking, partying, no usage of y/n, a few suggestive remarks

notes: this is my official entry for the hogmarch challenge of @thatdammchickennugget using prompt 2: “are you speaking parsletongue or am i really that drunk?”

the night was rushing fast away in front of your eyes, easy chatter, at the start of the party, quickly turning into drunken singing and shouting along to the music that was drowning out everything else.

the dim blue light that was shining through the ravenclaw common room did it‘s best to worsen the drunken state many of your classmates were in.

mattheo was sitting on a couch, wearing his usual cool demeanour and being surrounded by his friends. they were known for getting a bit drunk, but never making an embarrassment out of themselves through loud singing or obnoxious dancing.

and normally you were known for sitting right next to them and doing the same.

even though it was dark, you could see mattheo's head turn and his eyes searching the crowd for you. you had excused yourself to get something to drink. that had been over ten minutes ago and you were really debating to just go to bed.

the night had turned out differently than you had expected and you weren't really in the mood to act like it hadn't.

"someone is looking for you" a voice behind you said and you turned around startled.

"harry" you said relieved when you recognized the boy.

it wasn't like the two of you were friends, after all you were coming from vastly different groups, but since a project in astronomy you had become acquaintances, sometimes sharing a few nice words at parties.

"why are you standing here all alone? why aren't you with your friends?"

"why aren't you?" you shot back, making harry quirk an eyebrow.

"well played" he complimented and smiled "i was trying to get away from dean and ginny making out"

"ouch" it wasn't really a well known fact that harry fancied ginny, but you had noticed it right away a few parties ago and he had been able to read you well enough to know that you had known.

"it's alright" he shrugged "i just don't want to sit next to it"

"who would?" you asked sarcastically as you eyes fell on the couple, hungrily making out on the couch, successfully pushing seamus off.

it seemed that a few people felt way too comfortable in the ravenclaw common room.

"oi, it's no fun with these two" seamus complained, sympathetically hitting harry's shoulder on the way to the table with the drinks.

"back to you" harry grinned, seemingly uncomfortable with talking about his secret crush on ginny weasley more than necessary "why are you avoiding riddle? i thought you two were the best of friends"

"i'm not avoiding him" you said defensively, taking a big gulp from the vodka in your cup to prevent yourself from saying any more.

harry took a moment to study your facial expression, before he sighed in a tone that almost made you tear up "oh"

"no" you shook your head "no 'oh', stop looking at me like that, potter"

harry laughed dryly "too late" he shrugged "so, being the best of friends is your actual problem, huh?"

you didn't answer his question, but took another sip from the cup. immediately regretting it.

harry cringed "if you continue drinking at that rate you won't be able to speak a coherent sentence in a few minutes"

"maybe i don't want to speak coherent sentences anymore"

"so we're already at the point of drowning our sorrows in alcohol?" he raised his cup and took a sip "no, you're right, it doesn't look like you're unluckily in love with riddle at all"

you sighed "okay, fine, you're obviously smarter than you look" you rolled your eyes.

"well, ouch" harry said offended, but you could see a hint of mischief in his eyes. "am i allowed to join your little club of self-pity?"

"sure" you nodded "the more the merrier i guess"

"there's no better way to spend a party than drown yourself in self-pity with the girl you're kind of on good terms with"

"yeah, totally" you grinned "but i think if we continue talking at that rate we will be able to call each other friends in an hour"

"deal" harry laughed, before he grabbed the bottle of vodka on the table behind you, filling both your own and his cup back up. he put the bottle back and held his cup in your direction "to unrequited love" he said dramatically.

you grimaced, but raised your cup to clink against his. "to unrequited love" you toasted "and unexpected friendships" you added.

"yeah that too" he smiled before you both took a big sip from your cups.

"vodka is fucking disgusting" you complained and harry nodded, making a face that would allow the assumption that he had been thinking the same thing.

"at least it does the trick"

you and harry spend the next hour recklessly sipping vodka, while you were telling each other ridiculous stories. the vodka had a quicker effect than either of you had thought, making the both of you dance and refer to each other as friends sooner than you had predicted.

just as 'dancing queen' began to play and you were twirling on the dancefloor, did you notice the empty spot on the couch occupied by your friends. there was only one of them missing. before it could really register in your brain who exactly was missing, a voice rang out next to you.

"make room, potter" you and harry both turned around, looking surprised at the arrival of mattheo riddle.

"matty" you laughed after the few seconds it had taken you to recognize your best friend.

mattheo's arm darted to the side, catching you before you could fall to the ground. you had made the attempt to hug him, missing his body by a few feet. you had been closer to hugging cormac mclaggen who was standing off to the side.

"there you are" mattheo noted, gently taking your cup out of your hand, sniffing the contents and grimacing at the strong sent of vodka, mixed with a bit of orange juice.

"do you want some?" you slurred, grinning up at the boy, who's arm was still holding you steady.

"how many of these has she had?" mattheo asked harry, thinking he would be a little less wasted than you.

"like thirty-four thousand?" harry answered before him and you broke into simultaneous laughter.

"had to have been a lot" mattheo muttered, noticing the way you were laughing with the chosen one, gripping his arm, like you were old friends.

he let go of you, taking harry's cup as well, emptying the both into the bucket under the table with the drinks. he came back right in time to witness you saying goodbye to harry with a dramatic hug, kissing both his cheeks and lastly his forehead.

"yeah, that's enough" mattheo said, dragging your body back against his when he noticed you going in to plant more kisses on harry's face. he looked bad enough, the red lipstick you were wearing leaving marks all over his face.

harry smiled before he waved at you and turned around, stumbling through the crowd of students probably in search of his redheaded best friend.

mattheo rolled his eyes. "you're absolutely wasted, darling"

you turned around to look at him and unconsciously bring a bit of space between the both of you "is it that obvious?" you asked.

mattheo watched with a smirk, how you tried to balance yourself out, to just be able to stand. your arm ended up stabilizing your own hip and you almost fell full on to the side, when you moved your leg.

"not really" mattheo grinned "come on, baby" he softly gripped your waist on either side, guiding you in the direction of your friends. you closed your eyes, leaning your head against his shoulder, letting him walk you through the room willingly.

"have i ever told you how gorgeous you are?"

"i am?" he asked laughing.

"so gorgeous that it hurts"

"you're flattering me" he smiled, nudging your arm. "but maybe you should concentrate more on walking in the right direction"

he was right. it was taking you way too long to cross the room, thanks to your inability to still walk in a straight line, even with his help.

"hey" mattheo greeted, making the eyes of his friends turn on him. "i'm bringing her to bed"

"already?" enzo asked skeptically, checking his watch "it's only two a.m."

"hey guys!" you greeted when your eyes snapped open. you bend forward, plastering a kiss onto enzo’s cheek. "how the party you doing? good? good!" you smiled, nodding as your eyes fell closed, as you leaned back onto mattheo again.

"what?" theo laughed at your slurred words that had not made the slightest bit of sense.

"yeah, i get it now" enzo nodded understandingly, trying to rub your lipstick off his cheek.

"she's only been gone for an hour" blaise said unbelievingly "how did she get that drunk?"

"she's had approximately like more than a thousand vodka-o's according to potter" mattheo chuckled.

"potter?" draco repeated disgustingly "what has she been doing with potter?"

"harry and i are best friends" you gushed, giving draco an angry look. he rolled his eyes in annoyance, but without questioning your answer.

"let's not get ahead of ourselves, love" mattheo argued, a bit of jealousy in his voice.

"you don't have to be jealous" you softly touched his cheek "you know i love you more than anyone, honey"

blaise let out a loud whistling noise "seems likes she's your girl after all, riddle"

"oh shut up" mattheo said at the same time as you said "of course"

"better bring her to bed now" theo advised and you could feel mattheo nod next to you.

"i'll be back in a few minutes" mattheo promised, as he softly turned you around to be able to walk you in the direction of the door.

"no he won't" you slurred, turning your head in the direction your friends, gripping mattheo's neck and winking at them.

enzo hollored and theo laughed, while blaise repeated the whisteling.

"cheers to that" even draco was amused about you, as he raised his cup in your direction.

"i'll be back" mattheo assured again, pushing you forward.

"no you won't" theo shook his head, smirking as he watched his friend roll his eyes and gently guide you through the crowd.

"how about a shot of tequila?" you suggested to mattheo, perfectly awake again. there was no hint of the tiredness that had consumed your body only a few minutes ago.

maybe it was the alcohol or maybe it was the sound of a familiar voice indicating the beginning of the song 'whatta man' by salt-n-pepa, which was now booming through the boxes.

"no, no more alcohol" mattheo shook his head, suddenly being the kind of responsible he had never seen himself to become.

"oh my god!" you gushed when you finally reconized the song "that's my favorite song! let us dance, matty!"

he was distracted by two hufflepuff boys almost running into him, when you saw the perfect opportunity to escape his hold. stupidly enough, that was the only thing you could see, as you had promptly gotten lost in the crowd of people.

mattheo was at your side only a second after, making you realize that you had in fact just turned around, without moving more than a feet away from him.

"if you don't come with me on your own accord, i'll have to carry you" mattheo warned.

you giggled, clasping your hands around his biceps "let us dance" you pleaded, completely ignoring what he had said.

mattheo furrowed his eyebrows, still waiting for you to reply to what he had said, but you were busy watching a few ravenclaws and hufflepuffs downing shots. "or we could down some shots" you mumbled.

mattheo took that as answer enough, clasping one of his hands around your forearm and the other around your leg, as he bend down to throw you over his shoulder.

"matty" you protested, as he began to walk you out of the common room. you gave up arguing and continued to sing along to the chorus of 'whatta man' as mattheo walked you both through the crowd of people.

as soon as the door to the ravenclaw common room fell close behind the two of you, you slumped down on mattheo's shoulder, the tiredness hitting you immediately.

"do you want to walk on your own now, baby?" mattheo asked, but he could feel you shake your head. "can you use you words?" he was growing a bit concerned at your sudden mood shift, trying to make sure that you were still somewhat alright.

"no" you pouted "i don't want to use my words"

"you just did"

"i never let a man tell me what to do" you slurred and mattheo had to chuckle.

"clearly" he muttered under his breath.

he walked through the halls of the castle quickly, making sure that you wouldn't be discovered by one of the teachers. you would probably kill him if one of them saw you like this. you never really got that drunk often, so it was on mattheo to make sure that no one found out about it now.

he should've searched for you immediately after you hadn't come back. he shouldn't have waited an hour. but he was scared of annoying you. you were always together and he had taken your absence as a sign for you needing some space.

if he could, he would follow you around all the time, preferably holding your hand while doing so. maybe in another universe you would want him to do that.

"when are we there?" you asked, your hand wandering across his shoulder, before it finally found it's place in his hair, gripping it tightly.

"any second now" mattheo was trying to make sure not to shake your body too much, as he quickly walked down the steps to the dungeon. he wouldn't want you to throw up. "do you feel sick, sweetheart?"

"no" you muttered "i just want to sleep"

"i know, i know" mattheo patted the back of your leg "we're almost at the door"

he hadn't lied. it only took a few more seconds, before he whispered the password and the door to the slytherin common room opened, revealing the familiar green lighting as he walked you both inside. he crossed the room, climbing the stairs to your dorm.

he took his time to set you down on your bed, making sure that no quick movement could make you feel uncomfortable. he unfolded your blanket, spreading it across your body.

he was ready to leave the room, before you called him back.

"matty" you cried and he perked up, walking back to the bed. you threw the blanket to the side dramatically, revealing your trousers and shirt. "i can't sleep like this"

"oh" mattheo said dumbfounded "do you want me to take them off?" he asked slowly, gripping the waistband of your trousers.

"are you speaking parsletongue or am i really that drunk?" you giggled at the joke with your eyes still closed.

"you're really that drunk" mattheo answered, rolling his eyes at your unseriousness "and it's not funny"

"it's a bit funny" you opened your eyes and giggled at his facial expression "why are you so serious, matty?"

"i should've kept an eye on you" he answered "you don't like to be drunk"

"i can make my own decisions" you argued, crossing your arms.

"obviously" mattheo nodded "should i take them off?" he repeated his question from earlier, but the tone of his voice made you sober up immediately, well at least a bit.

"are you really angry at me right now?" you asked surprised.

"i had to leave the party to bring you to bed"

"that's not the reason you're angry" you said, knowing him well enough to see through his lie.

"okay, fine" he sat down on the bed and you sat up, drawing your knees to your chest and hugging them with your arms. "maybe i'm a bit angry that you would rather spend your evening getting drunk with potter than speaking to me"

"matty"

"no, it's fine" he shook his head "i shouldn't be angry about how you choose to spend your time. goodnight" he stood up from the bed, walking to the door quickly, so voice rang out before he was able to twist the doorknob.

"can you please just stay?" you asked and he turned around in surprise.

"what?"

"maybe i chose to spend time with harry, but i'm choosing to spend the night with you. isn't that more important?"

"that's not how it works"

"okay, fine" you said, tired of arguing "do you want to know the truth? spending time with you is super hard while i'm madly in love with you" even though you were a bit more sober than before, he could still recognize the drunkness in your voice, especially because you were never that bold.

"madly in love with me, huh?" mattheo repeated surprised, his signature smirk immediately replacing the frown on his face.

“it’s embarrassing, i know” you buried your face in your hands, hiding your rosy cheeks from his eyes. he softly took your hands in his, freeing your face of them.

"don't hide from me" he smiled "and it’s not embarrassing, because the truth is, that i'm madly in love with you too"

you smiled up at him. “can you kiss me then?” he smiled at your question, but shook his head.

“no more kisses tonight” he muttered, softly stroking your hair “we can do that tomorrow, as often as you want to, when you’re sober again”

“okay” you nodded.

he gently helped you to exchange your trousers for pyjama bottoms, before he took of his shirt and climbed into bed next to you. you cuddled close to his chest, your hair tickling him whenever you moved.

"blaise was right" you said finally "i'm your girl after all"

"you always were" mattheo whispered back, softly kissing your forehead, before the both of you fell asleep, holding onto each other.

#mattheo x you #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #matty riddle #benjamin wadsworth #hogmarch challenge #slytherin group #slytherin boys #slytherin boys x reader #slytherin #hogwarts #hogwarts houses #ravenclaw #gorgeous #taylor swift #reputation #reputation tv

[plussizebowloffood]

Straight women say it's a blessing to be curvy but not "look fat" but it's not all that great if you don't want to appeal to the male gaze

-

As a plus size sapphic, the following has been my experience over the last 21 years of my life.

Excuse my long rant, it's just that this type of thing keeps happening to me and I'm tired

-

I've had ex's in the past (who were sadly men) who told me they "didn't have a type" but lo and behold had never dated women who were "overweight" so when I brought up my weight- they acted like I just told them I was born as a damn alligator.

I've had women who are smaller than me comparing themselves to me and saying that I look good but they're fat (they are absolutely not) and they keep saying how they want my body but let's be honest- they just want the body, not those numbers on the scale.

I've had older women completely dismiss my body dysmorphia, saying"I wish I looked that thin! Let's swap bodies hahaha!" While I was on the floor crying because I wanted to cut the weight off.

I've had doctors give me a once-over when I said that I was struggling with anorexia and wanting to purge.

I've had women call me "attention seeking" or "fishing for compliments" because I couldn't hide my disdain for my body.

-

Through all of these experiences, some of the worst ones were from straight women outwardly sexualizing my body and treating it as if it was a doll to be dressed up, or going as far to tell me what I should or shouldn't wear if I want to get fucked by a man.

These straight women (who normally have some type of internalized misogyny) will look at us and say that they want our bodies but not because of the fact that they actually want our bodies...because I guarantee they wouldn't want to deal with the struggles but instead what they want our bodies for is to prance around for men to look at and men to sexualize. They want to feel the validation they think we're getting 24/7. An argument could be made that they often sexualize us more than men do- while it's not exactly the same it can be phrased as this: both want our bodies to do something for them, whether it be living vicariously through, or whether it be to use.

Just as much as they sexualize us and try to live vicariously through us, they hate us just as much. I hate to tell you this random-lady-at-the-grocery-store who's-upset-that-I'm-wearing-a-dress but I do not care for the 50-year-old man who keeps staring at my ass. I promise you can have him as I am actively depressed that he finds me attractive.

You can have all of the disgusting cis men who only care about what skin they can grab while they fuck you. Please take them all so I can wear what I want in public and not have to be bothered.

I want to wear mini skirts for the girls, the gays, and the they's. That's all there is to it.

-

Even though I've ranted, I don't feel any better. I feel like I'm throwing a pity party just because I'm so conditioned to hearing that if you have pretty privilege you're not allowed to complain because "people want to be you" or whatever. I'm a queer brown woman sexualized by both straight men and women, that is not a privilege, it's a goddamn nightmare.

#lesbian #queer #girls love girls #lgbtqia #lgbtq #lgbtq community #lgbt pride #sapphic #curvy sapphic #plus size sapphic #lgbt blog #lgbtq post #queer and proud

[beauleifu]

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

This might not grace the date, but I'm writing this half an hour before midnight but to celebrate I got a little treat for you guys, hope you enjoy!

edit: aight i missed the deadline but HAPPY LATE HALLOWEEN

Consider this a make-up for not being able to update Heartstrings, I promise the next chapter will be worth it, but I'm just a tad busy at the moment to properly render it public <3

(we putting those onesies to good use here lmao)

EDIT2: this may have been a future scene in Heartstrings however this was mainly just for halloween, its just a side story but can be taken as whatevr you like

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

SYNTAX X READER

Lego Monkie Kid

Context: It's Halloween baby, and you're lucky Syntax decided to play nice and let you dress him up. You're probably the only person he'd ever allow to expose him in that way, so you'd better not fuck this up. Unfortunately, you decide to be a brat.

CW: Language, light suggestive themes

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

It's getting late.

You wait by the car with bated breath, eyes scanning for your partner and wishing he'd just materialize there. Unfortunately, Syntax is taking his precious time with the costume you'd picked out.

He's doing this on purpose.

You saw his smug smile before he vanished into the bathroom, caught the way his eyes flicked shamelessly over your figure.

Yes, he doesn't approve of your costume choice, but he certainly sees no problem in having you wear it. The green triceratops onesie is large and baggy, hardly complimenting your body but proving itself worthy in other areas - such as with pockets and a large, cute hood.

Ah, there he is.

Your eyes snap up as the spider demon strides outside, having been staring at the ground, lost in your thoughts.

With a careless eye roll, you wave him over. "Took you long enough."

"Apologies, but I had a difficult time getting past the ridiculousness of your fashion choice, darling," Syntax hums, giving himself a cool once-over before looking up at you. "What is it?"

You cock a brow, all mirth and no pity. "No need to apologize, Dino Boy. It's cute that you feel the need to, though."

"Are we on a tight schedule?" He deadpans.

Well, yes and no.

You are free to trick-or-treat anytime, but people normally close shop after 10 p.m..

Your glare shifts sideways, a fateful indicator of the half-truth in Syntax's statement. His smile merely grows fondly as he watches you start the engine and kick the car into gear. He loves getting on your nerves and reminding you exactly how much he adores the way you try and fail to comeback him. However, there's that infuriating bratty side to you that, although is no match for his wit, never fails to irritate him. It renders his thoughts utterly hazy, and perhaps that's the beauty of it.

You don't need smart comebacks. Your attitude gets you anything you want, and he knows you know it.

"Won't you drive?" Syntax says, gesturing to the open road.

You're staring at him, making goosebumps rise on his arms. But you see no problem in admiring how he looks, smiling wryly. "Sure. No harm in etching you permanently in my memory, though."

He grits his teeth. "Darling, we'll be late."

"You think we have to be on time for Halloween? Ha, maybe the costume does suit you. Dinosaurs have pea-brains, too."

"(Y/N)-"

"Aaaand we're off!" You say, tapping tunelessly on the steering wheel as you edge the gas pedal so suddenly it urges Syntax to grip the arm rest tightly. He sucks in a heated breath, sharp eyes going to glare at the smug smile painting your pretty little face.

Oh, he'll get you for this.

For forcing him into a humiliating outfit for an equally pointless event. For being a brat and making him look like a fool.

However, he's content to bite his tongue and sit back. He'll watch you drive silently, not just to admire your figure or to keep from distracting you, but to allow a plan to evolve. Revenge tastes sweetest on unsuspecting victims, after all.

You, on the other hand, are blissfully unaware of your partner's conniving.

Honestly, you're happy Syntax is doing this with you.

The two of you are heading to the most festive neighborhood in the city. They tend to leave the streets decoration-free until a few days before Halloween, though, to get the biggest reaction out of onlookers and trick-or-treaters. And boy, do they play their cards right. You've seen old posts on social media regarding Halloweens of the past, and a large portion is centered around the neighborhood you're driving to.

Syntax has no clue.

He, assuming he hasn't spoiled it for himself by scouring the internet, will be utterly blown away by the sheer creativity and raw horror of every house's decorations. He doesn't know about the screaming ghouls, the dolls that jump out at you, and the fog that gives scarers the perfect weapon; surprise. Sure, there are a few houses that host little to no decorations, but the ones that do are a marvel.

You spare a glance at your partner. He notices instantly.

"Looking sharp, dino dude."

Green eyes slide down his frame, weeding out the parts he doesn't like. "I look hideous. Onlookers will wonder if I've gone crazy. Are we there yet?"

"Heh, you must be really stressed," you tease, wearing a shit-eating grin. "This is the only day of the year where wearing crazy outfits is normal. Don't you know that? No one will think you're crazy unless you act like . . ." You give him a once over, unimpressed; "yourself."

Oh, he does not like your tone of voice. Amusement, directed at him? You might as well be burning his pride at the stake.

"I'm not stressed, I-"

"Also, yes, it's just around the corner," you interrupt, eyes glittering.

Syntax's breath hitches. He rewards you with a filthy glare, tempted to advance his unspoken warning by bringing out the spider enhancements. Unfortunately, the costume prevents that course of action, curse you and your rotten intuition. He sighs darkly. "That's the second time you found it convenient to interrupt me."

"Oh, is it really?" You feign shock, eyes big and apologetic. It royally pisses him off. "I'm really sorry." Your smile returns, and you drop the act while murmuring; "Wasn't much to interrupt, anyways."

"Hm? Care to repeat that?" Syntax says, forcing calm. You will not best him, not tonight.

Not even in that adorable onesie. Green. His.

You simply shrug, voice calm and innocent. Brat. "Nothing."

He contents himself with the citizens beyond the tinted car window. Eyes half-lidded, he observes their outfits, the silly costumes they'd chosen for this useless holiday. He could be doing something much more productive right now, like being nestled in the comfort of his workspace back home. You'd make him a cup of tea of coffee, settle in the padded chair he'd permanently borrowed from the furniture store. You'd fall asleep to the mechanical sounds of him tinkering, and after the long hours are up, Syntax would wrap you in a blanket and carry you to bed.

You were always quiet, exhaustion rendering you obedient. Syntax smiles to himself, hand going to grip his chin to conceal his amusement. Yes, you behaved when you were tired.

Perhaps he'll get the same result by running you ragged on this little event.

Approaching the outer edge of the neighborhood, you park the car and shut it off. With one last outfit inspection, you and Syntax hop out and meet at the front of the car.

For once, Syntax isn't looking at you.

He's momentarily distracted with the sights before him. You find yourself entranced at his obvious wonder, admiring the way his eyebrows jump up, lips parting slightly. "So? Was it as dull as you expected, or . . ?"

"Not dull, no. I wasn't expecting this."

"And you said Halloween is a silly holiday for childish shenanigans."

He catches the mockery in your tone as you step in front of him, expression challenging as you rest your weight on the balls of your heels. A mere eyebrow lift is your only reward. "I rest my case."

Syntax doesn't mind your heated glance, returns it even as you both begin walking the sidewalk.

Your hands are stuffed into your pockets (you'd also stuck your tongue out at him). "Don't you worry. I'll have you writhing in the grip of regret by the end of this."

"No need to talk about yourself so highly, darling," he quips.

Ah. Syntax feels before he sees you move. On your tip toes, you urge him to halt with a simple prod of your pointer finger against his sternum, hidden under a low-hanging tree. Bringing your mouth to his ear, you allow your tone to drop. "I know you don't hate the costume, Syntax."

The spider demon stiffens before he can stop himself, and he wishes he'd pulled the hood up to spear (Y/N) from this opportunity. "My outfit is awful. Of course I'd hate it," he grits out, focusing on a certain crack in the ground.

You hum musingly. "Wasn't talking about your costume."

Syntax's eyes flick wide in realization, at how you've clearly one-upped him. Seamlessly.

Before he can reply, you kiss his ear and exit his personal space bubble, your presence a mere ghost against his body. Of course, Syntax flushes deeply, fighting to suppress his pride. You're getting to be quicker on your feet. Now, you're all bright eyes and grabbing his hang, pulling him closer to his fate.

It takes a great deal of effort for Syntax to unclench his jaw.

He takes a deep whiff of cool air, blows it out steadily, and tries not to think about how small your hand is, clasped in his own.

Your first stop is a lovely house swathed in spider webs and tombstones. Feet stick up from the lawn, webbed corpses hang like cold symbols of doom along the house walls. But at the end is a shiny orange bowl in the lap of a stuffed scarecrow.

You fight a mischievous smile, nudging Syntax forward.

"Go on. Grab some candy."

The spider demon spares a glance over his shoulder, eyeing the families wandering the sidewalk. "Shouldn't we leave the cavities for the little ones?"

Harsh much?

You give him a harder shove, and he stumbles towards the lonely scarecrow sitting in the chair. "Nah, you'd much rather satisfy your sweet tooth."

Syntax frowns deeply, glad his expression is concealed from you, as you are indeed correct.

Grudgingly, he selects two candies and retreats.

"Happy?"

The grin you've been fighting this whole time promptly emerges, setting your face and cheeks aglow. "Oh, totally. I never knew snickers were your thing. Maybe you should eat one before we continue; you're not you when you're hungry."

Your little jibe makes Syntax want to smart-mouth you to death, want to spring his spider limbs into action and suspend you over the town.

But that would only be another win for you.

Adorable little brat.

Nose upturned, Syntax walks straight past you - but not before grabbing the back of your hood and yanking it roughly over your head. It renders you helpless and blind, and your hands shoot up to fend him off as you yelp impudently. The spider demon chuckles in obvious amusement, his gait now a pleasant stroll now that he's had his fun.

"Come now, (Y/N), I thought you were excited for this," he hums, watching you struggle to lift the hood. "Or do you give up?"

Your bright eyes spear him indignantly. "Fuck you."

"I'll take that as a no."

The next house presents the both of you with a whole different theme, this one stuffy with fog. You both curiously eye the garage doors, painted red with bloody handprints. An equally crimson trail leads to the bowl of candy positioned by the front door, almost hidden from view. Ominous figures guard the treasure, identities concealed with dark rags and cloaks. You're unable to deter whether or not they're real people, or just figures bought from the store.

Nonetheless, you're eager to let Syntax go first again.

"There you go, dino dude. There might not be much left, and I can always get some at another station," you say, feigning politeness. Your warm smile seals the deal.

Oh, oblivious, pretty little Syntax, unaware that his next course of actions will set his pride aflame.

The spider demon flashes you a cocky look, eyebrows raised at your display of kindness. To allow him first dibs, to forfeit what precious few cards you hold in this game you two are playing? He'll never let you live this down.

"You're too kind," he purrs in wicked amusement, striding confidently forward. The hooded figures remain motionless. "Don't worry, you won't regret-"

A shrill scream fills the air.

Syntax jumps back, eyes wide and arms raising to block the attackers. "Ohfuck-"

In the process of doing so, he drops the pillowcase - practically empty, but for future candy storing. One of the figures is responsible for Syntax's sudden movements, having rushed him at the last second, at the precise moment he let down his guard to fish out his choice candies. They were the ones who shrieked, and it even sent chills down your spine.

But a laugh bubbles in your throat, then a cackle, then you snort with amusement. "HA! Nice one, guys!"

Syntax straightens, wide eyes darting from you to the three figures who are suddenly moving, high-fiving each other and laughing among themselves. Breath somewhat uneven, he collects your pillowcase and tries to regain his composure.

Fuck.

That scared him. Or, well, surprised him. Damnit, he should've sensed something was off the moment you'd dropped the sass to let him go first.

He glares when you rush past him to get a high-five for yourself (not before giving him a shit-eating grin). Then, you grab some candy and part those devious lips of yours. "That was fire, guys. He totally deserved that, been acting like an asshole this entire time. He didn't even want to go out! Just wanted to stay home and tinker away . . . so thank you."

One of them laughs. "Damn, you put up with that?"

"I have to. He'd die without me," you say, slowly peeking over your shoulder to give Syntax the haughtiest, most self-satisfied smirk you've ever pulled off. It's almost impressive how badly you want to get under his skin.

After a few short rounds of useless small talk, you finally wish the hooded figures good luck and proceed down the driveway, chuckling to yourself. The spider demon spares no effort to give the scarers the filthiest look he can muster, but he's not sure they even noticed. He's already been reduced to a helpless hobo due to your incorrect recount of events. So a swift turn of the heel and he's catching up to you, heart still off-beat.

You are so. Fucking. Irritating.

At the next house, he casually grabs your arm. "Why don't you go first this time."

You don't miss a beat. "What, you scared, dino baby?"

"No. But I think you deserve a little fright this time around, don't you?" He fires back, cocking a challenging brow.

An amused hum. "We'll see."

Syntax watches you approach the trick-or-treat stand; a quaint blow-up attraction with skeletons and pumpkins lining the walkway. Arms crossing over his chest, he drums his fingers impatiently, eyes spearing the back of your neck. God, he wants you close to minimize the risk of getting lost, but the way your acting has him wanting to be as far from you as possible.

But he's supposed to be investing all his efforts into exhausting you tonight. To render you helpless and kind once again. His sweet, little angel.

Eyes widening, he watches as you retrieve some sweets.

No jumpscare.

No loud, voracious noises.

You return to his side (right where you belong), clean and free from panic or fear. Syntax merely stares down at you in surprise.

His obvious frustration and indignation has you smirking devilishly. With a light snicker, you grab his collar and tug him down to eye level, winking. "Nice try, dino baby. But the universe loves me."

With that, you reach behind him, snatch his hood, and tug it up and over his face.

Payback is a bitch.

Syntax stiffens at your movements, but his face is hidden by the triceratops hood. His face is hot as you raise a hand to cup his cheek. Your smile softens fondly, as you trace his jawline and duck to peek under the edge of the hood. "You okay under there? Thinking about giving up? 'Cause if the universe is on my side tonight, you're totally screwed. In the ass. Royally."

The spider demon contemplates your words, eyes on the floor. He doesn't pull away from your touch. "Perhaps . . . you may be right."

"See? Wasn't that hard now, was it-"

He suddenly lifts his head, green eyes flashing under the hood.

You stay quite still as he straightens slightly - just to have a fair amount of height over you - and looms over your smaller, fluffier figure.

"That may be so," he says, pausing to let the shameless wrath of his words sink in. "But the universe won't be able to protect you from the consequences of your actions. Tonight, in your bedroom. Royally," he finishes darkly.

Swallowing air, you offer a cheeky smile.

God, it's so fucking hard to combat him when he's like this. It has you sheepishly rubbing your arm.

"Maybe that's not a bad thing," you try, wanting to kiss him to stop his heated taunts. That should shut him up, as it's worked before whenever Syntax has the high ground.

However, a kiss is not what saves you, it's the citizens.

Syntax seems to realize them approaching and finally tears his eyes from your face to look around. Tonight shall be your night. He will discard any notion to combat your behavior and instead indulge in your silly antics. To secretly coax you into feeling safe and secure (it's more fun to surprise you than have you suspiciously awaiting his actions). Funny, how fast his itinerary shifts focus. But his own words have lit a spark, put a spotlight on an idea that will certainly have you back to your kind, caring self by the end of tonight.

So with a new plan etched in his mind, he bears down on you a warm smile that fills you with confusion.

"I believe we have houses to visit, my love."

You stare. "Huh? But what-"

All right, he'll bite. He's not even trying and you've suddenly lost the sass he's been brooding about all evening. "Worry not. You look darling in that costume and I would like for everyone to see that."

Syntax doesn't finish that sentence. He doesn't need to. You're his.

Perhaps having twin costumes shall reaffirm that. Curse you and your unintentionally brilliant ideas.

You offer a small smile. "Well, I'm glad you've come to your senses, spider dude."

He's the one to take your hand. "As am I."

#lmk #lego monkie kid #lmk syntax #syntax x reader #fluff #tw suggestive #romance #no angst here we only do fluff #they're in love #tall vs short #halloween special #oneshot #lmk oneshot #guys it's 2am this was fueled by music #TOTALLY kid friendly music #y/n is a brat #syntax is losing his patience

[alexdelray1]

Hobie x Reader Fluff

Warnings: I think there might be some bad words but i don't remember.

Song: Black Sheep by Metric.

Oh yeah... Oh yeah! Oh yeahhh!!!

Hello again, friend of a friend, I knew you when. 

Our common goal was waiting for the world to end! 

Now that the truth is just a rule that you can bend! 

You crack the whip, shape-shift and trick, the past again!

Sending my love on a wire. 

Lift you up, everytime, everyone, ooh, pulls away, ooh. 

From youuuuu.

I sang my favorite song during rehearsal. Hobie played guitar and the rest played their instruments. I always wanted to play a song with other people, but I didn't know that I would be the only singer.

Got balls of steel, got an automobile, for a minimum wage. 

Got real estate, I'm buying it all up in outerspace! 

Now that the truth is just a rule that you can bend! 

You crack the whip, shape-shift and trick, the past again!

I hated this feeling, but at the same time I loved it… At first I was terrified that I didn't remember anything, but after hearing the music the lyrics seemed to pop up in my head. It was always a strange feeling.

Sending my love on a wire... 

Lift you up, everytime, everyone, ooo, pulls a way, oo... 

Its a mechanical bull, at number one.

You'll take a ride from anyone, everyone wants a ride, pulls away, oooh..

From youuuuu...

-You did a great job, Reader. - Hobie complimented me and handed me the Coke that was on the table next to him earlier. I grabbed a coke and drank it.

-How about joining us?- asked one of Hobie's friends, hanging on my shoulder.

-It would be nice, but I can't. Work, my unacceptable father and I live in another city. Although I can play with you from time to time. - I lied in a quarter of that sentence.

-Yeah, Reader is making millions for some shitty company. For example, I'm there part-time. - Hobie made an alibi for me and for himself.

-So this is where you always run away when we don't go to clubs or play. Reader, remember. You can always share your boss's salary with your colleagues.- joked the guy who played the drums.

-I'll remember, okay Hobie, we have to go.- I said to my friend, grabbed my bag and started heading towards the exit.

-Bye, guys!- I said.

-Bye, motherfuckers!- Hobie said goodbye to his friends and started to follow me.

-Bye, bastard and Reader!- the three of them said goodbye to us. I left the building with Hobie and entered the alley.

-It's a pity that in my universe you are just a side character and don't live in my city. How about I get along with you from this universe? If you have the same voice, you would be useful to us. - Hobie offered and I turned on my 'watch'.

-Not very. When I introduce myself to your friends from this university, they will think whether I have amnesia. For now, rely on me and my rare visits. - I replied and pressed the 'hologram' button. My outfit immediately changed from normal clothes to a Spider-Girl costume.

-Do you know why every Spider man has a tight suit?- Hobie asked, changing the subject.

-I don't know why?- I asked, thinking what stupid thing he would come up with next.

-Because we all have great asses. And your dad the most. - Hobie started laughing and I opened the portal.

-Come on, stop traumatizing me.- I replied and entered the portal and Hobie followed me.

We found ourselves on Earth 616, on the roof of one of the skyscrapers. It's night now and it looks like we're still in New York, just a different one

-Wowowow! Why so high? - Hobie asked and grabbed one of the pillars.

-There are no unusual phenomena on this earth. They do not have, nor can they have, any heroes. No one here has power, so we have to be unnoticeable. - I replied and put on the mask, Hobie repeated this action after me.

-This is stupid. We would be less noticeable on earth. Like two figures on the roof of a skyscraper at night? It looks like we're trying to commit suicide. - Hobie said and wanted to start swinging around the buildings, but I stopped him with my hand.

-Wait a moment and don't whine. Swing so that no one sees you. No screams, no guitar sounds or anything else. Understood? - I asked and he sighed.

-Yes, mommy.- he replied sarcastically, shot a net and jumped off the building.

-God, I hope I don't regret taking him on this mission.- I said to myself and did the same as him.

We started getting closer to where the anomaly should be. I kept watching with my eyes to see if Hobie was about to pull out his guitar, but after a while I realized that he wasn't that stupid.

Swinging with a mask is so much better than without it for me. When I'm at HQ and I don't have to wear a mask, my hair gets almost everywhere. Okay, maybe it's also because I don't want to tie my hair, but that's my preference.

-I think we're there… - Hobie said quietly and landed in front of a house. It didn't look strange from the outside. There were no lights on in it, but there was some whining noise in it. I landed next to Hobie and crossed my arms.

-Let's quickly climb in through the window. This house looks abandoned, so there won't be a problem with witnesses. - I said and went to the window. I opened it and entered through it, and after a while Hobie did the same. I walked up to one of the walls and heard something.

-Is this… a baby crying? - I asked Hobi and he nodded.

-I think so too, but it could be a trap.- said the boy and started walking slowly towards the room from where the crying could be heard and I followed him.

Hobie opened the door and went inside first. In the middle of the room there was a baby, probably several months old, crying.

-Ah, it must have entered the portal somehow and landed in this universe.- I replied and breathed a sigh of relief that I didn't have to do much work today. I walked up to the baby and took him in my arms. Judging by the clothes, it's a boy. As soon as the baby opened his eyes and realized that neither his mother nor his father was holding him, he started crying.

-What a mama's bo…- Hobie didn't finish and started looking around.

-What's wrong with you?- I asked and started looking around. Suddenly, a villain ran out of the firecracker wall and tried to attack me.

His head was out so the only logical thing I could do was kick him in the balls. The logic is strange sometimes, but that's how it is. Unfortunately, in one hundredth of a second I realized that this was not the best idea, so it was easiest to lower my head from my knee.

The guy got hit in the nose and immediately fell to the ground with his nose almost detached. Don't worry, I won't turn anyone into Voldermort.

-Hey Hobie, look what an idiot.- I laughed and cleaned the blood from my knee.

-Well, I'm looking. So that's all? A bit boring. I expected something more exciting and here… eh. You take the kid and I'll take the guest. - Hobie said and wanted to approach the villain.

-Not so fast… I knew this would happen so… - the guy took a button out of his pocket. Oh wow. Either it's a bomb or he'll turn on the cameras and show us to the whole world.

-This is the button for the bomb that is in the room next to us… - said the villain and I laughed.

-Whoa. Guy, you can kill yourself when you land in your universe and not in this one.- Hobie urged him.

-It's not about the universe, cho-- the villain didn't finish.

-Guy, we don't care that the old man was beating you with a belt. - I said and I used the net to take the button from him and destroy it, dividing it in half.

-Now don't disturb us on our pathological date.- Hobie took him under his arm and we left the building.

#x reader #fem reader #spider verse #across the spiderverse #spiderman #hobie x reader #spider woman

[writeforfandoms]

Congratulations on the major milestone love!!!

Would love to see a soulmate prompt for either dear Agent Pike and the shared empathy or for one surly Spanaird and the inability to hurt your soulmate. Dealers choice koukla!

Hi sweet nonnie friend! 💖 Thank you so much for your patience - I know it has taken me *mumble* months but I finally have it here! I went with Marcus Pike because I have a couple other requests for Pero Tovar coming down the line. I hope you enjoy this! 

There’s a not so sneaky Marvel reference in here because I couldn’t resist. 

Marcus Pike x f!reader

Word count: 2k

Warnings: Flirting. Some silliness. Yearning. A bit of self-negativity, but only very briefly. 

Desperado

You had always known your soulmate's job must be something at least somewhat dangerous. You'd feel random spikes of adrenaline - the first one had taken you completely by surprise, left you in a near-panic in the bathroom. Which, of course, you scolded yourself for later. Your soulmate didn't need your panic on top of their own… whatever was going on. 

From that first time, you'd endeavored to be stable as a rock, taking things in stride and trying to keep your own emotions as calm as possible. Of course, you were no Vulcan. You still had feelings. You couldn't squash them out. 

But you did your best to mitigate any damage you might do with your emotions. 

You knew there had been times you'd failed, knew your soulmate had felt the second-hand betrayal of someone you'd thought a good friend. Knew they had felt the heartbreak of losing someone close to you. 

But you thought you had done a pretty good job. You had a stable, boring job. Some good friends. More good days than bad days. 

And if you ignored the ache of loneliness and yearning, you were pretty happy most of the time. It seemed your soulmate was too, more or less. He had had a couple romances that had ended painfully, but other than that. And the random spikes of adrenaline. 

Sometimes you tried to imagine what they were like. Kind, you imagined. Smart. Funny. Caring. Although you knew how much they cared, could feel it in your own heart, sure as anything. 

You'd never spoken to them, but you knew so much about them already. 

Normally, you weren't one to go out much, but your friend Maggie had talked you into going with her to a gallery opening. Art wasn't your forte, but you knew enough to get by. And she begged you, since her girlfriend was busy that night. 

So you caved. 

You pulled out an outfit you'd gotten compliments on before, checked your hair and makeup in the mirror, and were ready to go before Maggie pulled up outside your apartment. 

"You ready?" Maggie asked with a bright smile. She had always been more outgoing than you, dressing boldly and going above and beyond with her makeup. Sometimes you felt plain next to her, but you didn't let it bother you. She had a heart of gold, after all, and she was your best friend. 

"Ready," you confirmed with a smile of your own, buckling into your seat. "How's Carol?"

"Busy," Maggie groused. "They sure keep her busy test piloting things."

You patted her knee in sympathy. "Probably for the best, otherwise the two of you would cause far too much trouble."

"No way," Maggie scoffed. "We're easy going!"

"Macy's."

"You swore you wouldn't bring that up!"

You laughed at her indignant squawk, and felt a surge of warm amusement from your soulmate. Your smile softened a little. You hoped you'd find them soon, whoever they were. 

"So, what's the game plan for tonight?" You took pity on her and changed the subject. 

"Go in, look at art, make appropriate noises of 'oh isn't this just fascinating and unique', drink champagne, and leave." Maggie shrugged. "Should only take a couple hours, I'd guess." 

You chuckled. "Fair enough," you agreed easily. You didn't know the artist, so you didn't much care. But Maggie knew the gallery owner, so you'd be on your best behavior for her sake. 

The parking lot behind the gallery was almost full. Maggie snagged the last spot, squeaking in with a grin. 

"Let's go have some fun," she said, hopping out of the car.

You laughed and followed her, jogging a bit to keep up with her long strides. 

The gallery was beautifully set up, with temporary walls erected to help showcase the art and direct visitors through the space without ever seeming too busy. Maggie took the lead into the gallery, saying hi to the owner and blowing kisses. 

For the next half hour, Maggie was a whirlwind of activity. She introduced you to a few people, pressed a flute of champagne into your hands, and exclaimed over the art. Which, to your eyes, was nothing special. Blobs of color on canvas. That's all it looked like to you. So you just smiled and nodded along with whatever Maggie told you. 

The door opened again, and two men walked in. One of them was classically handsome, probably in his late 20s at a guess, with dark hair and bright blue eyes. His companion, though, had dark hair and brown eyes, with a patchy beard. His gaze met yours, and you felt a bolt of arousal shoot down your spine. 

Not yours, though. Your soulmate's. Your heart dropped a little at the realization. But you smiled a little at the nice, very handsome man. 

"Be nice," Maggie murmured as the two men approached. 

You didn't get a chance to ask her who they were before she was greeting the first one, the blue-eyed one. 

"Paul! So good to see you again!" She smiled at him, easily going into a hug. "And you brought a new friend this time!"

"This is Marcus," the man introduced. 

"Nice to meet you," Marcus murmured with a polite smile that warmed when his gaze met yours again. 

"I don't think you've met my friend," Maggie said, ushering you over closer as she gave the men your name. 

"Hi," you greeted, a little shy. 

They both shook your hand, and you could have sworn that Marcus's eyes lingered on you a little longer than was strictly polite. A little thrill ran up your spine, all yours. Marcus smiled slowly and released your hand with one last squeeze. 

"More champagne?" Paul offered, looking between you all. Maggie gave him a thumbs up, and he vanished to go find champagne. 

"How'd you get roped into coming, Marcus?" Maggie asked, looking curious. "I don't think I've seen Paul bring you before."

Marcus nodded. "This is my first time," he agreed, looking at Maggie. "My job involves art, so Paul thought it would be fun to drag me along."

You couldn't help it grin. "Funny, Maggie thought it would be fun to drag me along," you offered, looking at him. He really was handsome. Much nicer viewing than the artwork. 

Marcus smiled again, and you felt a little warm under the collar. "Fortunate for me," he agreed in a murmur. 

"I gotta go say hi to someone," Maggie said, barely concealing the outright glee in her voice. "You two play nice." She winked and left before you could grab her. 

You huffed, and Marcus chuckled. "Sounds like she wants us to get along." 

"She likes to think she's good at match making." You shrugged. 

"Oh?" Marcus offered you a hand with a smile. Excitement from your soulmate bubbled gently through your veins. Oddly on point timing, really, but you didn't mind. 

You took his hand with a shy little smile. "She thinks I need to get out and see people." 

Marcus nodded, stepping in closer to you. "Haven't met your soulmate yet?"

"Not yet," you murmured. "I wish. I know they're fine, but I haven’t met them. I don’t even know where to start looking.”

“No hints?” Marcus asked with a little sympathy.

“Not really. I mean, I get these adrenaline surges from them, so either they’re an adrenaline junkie or they’re in some kind of job that causes adrenaline.” You shrugged. “I’ve thought about looking at firefighters or law enforcement, but without an idea of where they are…” 

“Hm.” Marcus looked at you for a few long moments, quiet. Deep within you, within the part of you that connected to your soulmate, you could feel a niggling of hope and suspicion. 

“What about you? Found yours yet?” 

“I thought I had,” Marcus said slowly. “But, no. Not yet. Mine is quiet, mostly. The usual occasional outburst, but they seem to be pretty steady most of the time. They’re just a general warmth and happiness, to me.” 

You blinked at him. Perhaps it was wishful thinking, perhaps that niggling of hope within you was influencing you, but it almost sounded like he was describing you. But he couldn’t be. There was no way. 

“How do you even test if it’s them?” you asked, swaying closer to him, caught in the pull of his eyes. 

“Try sending emotions to one another,” Marcus murmured. His tongue darted out to wet his lips. You swallowed. You weren’t sure if the hope you were feeling now was yours or your soulmate’s. “Watch for reactions.” 

“Found the champagne,” Paul announced. You and Marcus both jumped, shifting apart. Paul seemed completely oblivious to what he’d just interrupted. “Where did Maggie run off to?”

“Not sure,” you answered, looking away from Marcus. You felt foolish for having hoped. Of course it wasn’t him. “I’ll go find her.” You turned away from the two without taking any champagne, striding off. You felt embarrassed. Had you really just been so blatantly flirting with Marcus? You’d only just met him, you had no reason to be flirting with him, not like that. Ugh. You were such an idiot. Getting your hopes up that you’d found your soulmate. 

Especially since you could still feel their hope. 

You turned a corner around one of the temporary walls and went looking for Maggie. Though the studio wasn’t huge, it was large enough that you didn’t see her anywhere. You spent a solid thirty minutes searching for her before you gave up. You were tired. You just wanted to go home. 

You stepped outside to text Maggie to update her. The temperature had dropped, just enough that you were chilly, and you shivered a little. Of course. Icing on the cake. 

A soft call of your name had you turning, and there was Marcus. He was watching you, brown eyes warm and concerned. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, stepping closer slowly. 

“Fine,” you said with a shrug, pasting an easy smile on your lips. “Just waiting for Maggie.” 

“Mind if I wait with you?”

“Free country.”

Marcus stopped next to you. Wordlessly, he shrugged out of his jacket and put it around your shoulders. You could feel concern from your soulmate, not sharp but warm. “You were shivering,” he murmured. 

“Oh. Thanks.” You hunched your shoulders a bit, tugging his jacket further around you. 

“Can I ask you something?” Marcus turned, one hand gently cupping your elbow and encouraging you to turn until the two of you were facing each other. 

“Okay.” You were confused but willing to play along. 

“Do you feel this?” 

For a moment, you were just even more confused. Feel what? His hand on your elbow?

But then you did. Hope, warm and bright, from your soulmate. Happiness. You blinked in wonder, lips parting as you looked at him, and he grinned at you. It was perhaps the most pure expression of joy you’d seen from another person in years. 

“I do,” you whispered, eyes wide. “Holy shit. Are we–?”

“That’s me,” Marcus agreed, his other hand now cupping your other elbow and slowly reeling you in closer. “I can feel you, too.”

You laughed, a little overwhelmed in the best way. “I can’t believe it.”

“I can.” He stepped in closer, bare inches between you now. “I’ve been trying to find you for a long time.” 

“And now that you have?” You tipped your head and smiled at him. 

His smile was bright and happy and beautiful. “Do you like pancakes?” 

“Love ‘em.”

“Wanna ditch this and go eat?” 

Your smile matched his, your hands resting lightly on his chest. “You driving?” 

“Of course.”

“Lead the way… partner.” 

His smile widened and he slid his grip down to your hands. He didn’t let go until you were safely in his car and buckled in. You texted Maggie a quick update, told her to enjoy and that you’d check in later, and then…

And then you were free to enjoy the first meal of pancakes with your soulmate.

--

Taglist: @oonajaeadira @green-socks @grogusmum @quica-quica-quica @littlemisspascal @queridopascal @fandom-blackhole @sarahjkl82-blog @cannedsoupsucks @liviii98 @adriiibell @pbeatriz @withakindheartx @linkpk88 @anditsmywholeheart @ohheyitsokay @amneris21 @javierpinme @pintsizemama @pedrostories @alexxavicry @elegantduckturtle @pjkimrn @mswarriorbabe80 @luz-introvertida @bruxasolta @lowlights @seasonschange-butpeopledont @princessxkenobi @chaoticgeminate @thirddeadlysin @beskarprincessjenny @evyiione @eri @the-feckless-wonder @janebby @idreamofboobear @jaime1110 @recklessworry @hotchlover @bowtiesandsandshoes @scorpio-marionette @buckybarneshairpullingkink @snarwor @borinquenasoy 

#jen's 500 follower celebration #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x you

[disaster-j]

kind of a random question but do you know why theory of love is such a polarizing series??? at least it feels like that to me after reading some reviews about it. like it's probably my favorite series and i've seen a great amount of people who think alike and even treat it like a masterpiece but at the same time there's a fair amount of those who not just say that the story isn't for them but straight up hate it. is it the not too nice story itself, is it the imperfect characters??? one thing that someone pointed out was also how they didn't really show us why third loved khai so much despite all of his flaws and we just had to believe he had a really good reason to, and like???? i really could point out a lot of those reasons that we get to discover while observing khai's character but at the same time it's not really necessary? third literally fell for him at first sight and nurtured that feeling inside of him like a pitiful hopelessly in love romantic idiot(endearing) that he is despite khai not being perfect. like maybe i'm biased and have a tendency to overanalize obvious things and my personal experiences and just the way i consume so much media and art about love cloud my judgement but to me tol has one of the realest stories like i'm sorry but life is a cliché!

Oh oh! I have the answers you're looking for!

The reason so many people dislike it despite tol being an objectively endearing and well executed story is that, simply put, they over-empathise with Third. See, a lot of people who watch the show have experienced falling for someone that didn't like them back. And a good chunk of those people fell for people who were assholes. So they project their own experiences and feelings onto the characters, which leads to them blowing Khai's shitty behaviour a bit out of proportion. Most of the things he does, aren't that big a deal in normal friendships. They seem more hurtful when we're in Third's pov bc Third likes him and his heartbreak over Khai liking other people sours these interactions more than is normal. A lot of people don't take the fact that Khai doesn't know how Third feels and that how he acts is how friends tend to act in general into account. Like, yeah there are some things he does that aren't great for friends to do either but it's hardly like a big betrayal. It just feels more hurtful bc Third is hurt. I have talked about this before in another ask but tumblr won't let me find it so I can't link it here. But yeah, people end up disliking tol bc for a lot of them Khai ends up representing their own hurt and they just can't always forgive all that perceived pain.

As for why Third loves Khai, you're absolutely right that we don't really need a list of reasons since his adoration for him is so obvious from their interactions. On top of that, having read the book, I can assure you it actually makes all the sense in the world that Third would fall in love with Khai. In the book there was no love at first sight connection actually, but Third still fell for him bc Khai is pretty and charming and their energies compliment each other. Being around Khai made Third happy and even though they don't show this in the series Khai is actually very clingy and caring towards Third. They both were just really good to each other on their own time and Khai genuinely loved Third so much I don't find it surprising at all that Third would fall too. Like, imagine you become friends with this super hot, super charming guy who flirts with you all the time, who makes you smile and calls you his best friend and tells you he loves you and talks about wanting you in his life forever. Who wouldn't fall in love!?! The thing is Khai was just as obsessed with Third as Third was with him, the screenwriters chose to erase that which leaves people wondering why Third was so gone on him. And honestly the fact that they made him act so selfishly to create drama always gets on my nerves. I understand that they wanted more buzz and it does, to some extent, make their getting together more exciting. But just seeing how devoted Khai was to Third in the book after watching him be needlessly selfish in the show was so disappointing bc we could have just had that in the show too it wouldn't change too much and then they could have had the screen-time to keep the conversations KhaiThird had where they actually talked about their feelings and resolved their problems in a healthy manner.

#anon ask #answered ask #theory of love #theory of love the series #khaithird #offgun #tol ask #analysis

[olivieblake]

so after seeing your response to my ask, wow. i feel so validated, you have no idea. you're right. i don't know what i want from him, or from my friends, or even from you.

would i like him to stop sending me mixed signals and stop flirting constantly? yes. but if i'm being brutally, completely honest (please try not to judge me here) i even like the flirting. i like the fact that he flirts so much with me, but slightly just a little less with other girls? i like the fact that i feel noticed, that i feel so comfortable with myself and who i am when he's around. what i don't like is him flirting nonstop, giving off mixed signals, implying that he likes me to a point where even his friends thought he did, and then go "but we're platonic af!!!!" what i don't like is not being able to figure out, or even understand, his true intentions and feelings.

would i like my friends to stop trying to sympathise with me and giving me those pity-filled looks and sending me those pity texts? yes. they have two extremes; giving this too much attention and sympathy, or not asking me about it at all and just going about life as normal. i don't know which one is worse. i did tell one of my friends how miserable i was a few months ago, and her reaction was "you have to respect his choice to say no", and i was like THAT ISN'T EVEN THE POINT HERE?? ofc i respect his decision to say no, as unhappy as that makes me, but what he's doing is sitting on the fence with one leg on either side.

i really love my friends, but dammit, i just want somebody to look at me and just....give me all the answers, y'know? i want them to tell me what to do, and what to feel, instead of this confusing tornado of emotions and thoughts just swirling in me.

i want to talk about this, i really, really do. but i just don't know what to say, if you get what i mean.

wow. this ended up being a lot longer than i intended it to be, and i think i'm eating your brain too much with my trivial problems when you have a literal baby (!!!) to take care of (your babymaking skills are on par, btw, he's BEAUTIFUL), but really, it's like you're the big sister i never had (do you have younger siblings, by any chance? because you're GREAT at this whole big-sistering thing).

well, like I said, this is one of those things that you have to get through to get through—sadly, this will not be the last time you face a romantic entanglement that boils down to THE PAINS OF EXISTENCE AND THE FUNDAMENTAL DESIRE TO BE SEEN. but of course flirting is fun. no harm no shame! it's literally a playground of hormones leading (biologically, if not sociologically) to sex, so yeah, it's natural to enjoy it and also be perturbed by the outcomes. wooo!

anyway I wish you the best of luck, and thank you very much for complimenting my extremely cute baby who is indeed extremely, and dare I say criminally, cute. also I do have younger siblings and my brother does occasionally accost me for advice, but my sister never does and all the worse for her, she's a mess!!! (she says, graciously)

#big sistering #olivie blake is on not writing hiatus

[cornflowercanine]

i think this year aside from 8eing the year of 8a8ys first medical attention (vaccine!!) and i think this was the year i got into ks8d? and made lots of fun ocs!!, this year has 833n a8out wanting to get 8etter for my friends and realizing my friends love me! put under cut for long and sappy

i've wanted to get 8etter for my friends (mostly for a specific friend 8ut then that 8led into other things) since the start of the year; i dont wanna ask questions where 'no' isnt a via8le/good answer, i dont wanna vent and vent and vent in hopes someone will 8reak down my... Issues and then when someone actually offers help to go 'OH NO NO I SUCK', i wanna say no, i wanna ask instead of just assume, i just!!! i wanna 8e more mature and handle my rel8ionships 8etter!!! i wanna do confront8ion and the social/emotional equivalant of accepting compliments even if it goes against what ive 833n doing for ever it'll make shit so much easier for everyone!!!

8ut something that has started happening without me expecting or even really trying to do it around the end of this year is im starting to f33l loved for the first time! its hard to explain 8ut i was thinking a8t furries who are like.. insecure a8t 8eing furries and are like idkkk 8ut im so Weird what if ppl h8 me cause im not Normal :'(((( and i thought a8t it cause like, 8ro we're here CAUSE you're weird and if you were 'normal' we wouldnt care, even if 8eing ~weird~ isnt a very cele8r8ed tr8 it is NOT a 8ad one 8y default and if you didnt X3 XD o.O a little 8it a8out 8eing a furry and forced all ur interests through a filter of MUST 8E NORMAL AND NOT VISI8LY CARE A8T STUFF id fucking h8 it!!!!!! and then i realized oh shit. IM weird. i love people who are weird in the way that i am weird 8ecause of their weirdness not despite it, its not some shameful guilty thing you 8oth have to ignore to enjoy the """real""" stuff detached from any interests or open displays of care or whatever, so there are pro8a8ly people who love Me 8ecause i'm weird too, 8ecause i've found other people like me and i love THEM so it's not like im some one-of-a-kind freak that no8ody would s33k out and enjoy, it's just this 8ig circle of 8eing weird and loving eachother for it and continuing to 8e weird and cele8r8ing it even if it is just the like, 4 of you!

and then that kept growing without me wanting it to cause i kept noticing proof that ppl loved me! a friend out and a8out s33ing something 8eautiful or funny or just an itty 8itty delightful little thing and their first thought 8eing 'i want my friend to s33 this' made me think fuck does that mean im level in their mind with a very pretty forest or a cute silly little animal and not just some depressive slog they only think a8t to pity? why else would my friends pick up weird words i use or start to talk in the way i talk or repeat smth i say or even say stuff in my silly little quirk if they didnt love me? why else would they ask me a8out stuff i like even if they dont espescially care? why else would they repeat jokes i made, why else would they say things i said months and months ago that they thought was smart, why else would they try something that i mentioned wanting to try, why else would they talk to me for the sake of talking to me when theyre out in pu8lic or have 8etter friends avalia8le atm and clearly have other s33mingly more engaging things they can do, why else would they think a8t me when i'm not there or i'm not 8rought up? when my friends say things sometimes i dont know how to respond at all and i look at the thing they said and go idk what youre talking a8out 8ut i love you and i hope u k33p liking the thing u like!!! in my head and then i look somewhere else, who's to say my friends dont do that to me too? insecurity/8ad self est33m??? will have you think you can love your friends and partner/s and anyone else so fucking much 8ut no matter how alike you are you are an exception and you are an awful thing that is only around others just cause there's nowhere else to go, 8ut that makes me think of that post thats like "can you imagine what real life would 8e like if anxiety was right(???) like you just walk on a train and everyones like OH FUCK THIS GUY IN PARTICULAR GET OFF" like!! youre not just there for the hell of it, people 8ROUGHT you there 8ecause you just existing and 8eing and enjoying things and talking evoke interest and joy and rel8ing and understanding and respect and love to these people, and theyre k33ping you there and talking to you and showing you things they made and asking what you think a8out stuff and 8ouncing your opinions off eachother to develop them more and laughing at your jokes and asking you what your thoughts on fucking Peas are despite how extremely irrelevent that is they Want to know 'hey what does my friend think of this food this is something i want to know a8out them cause i like knowing them and thinking a8out them and integr8ing them into my life more' and may8e even theyll end up thinking a8t u and smiling any time they have peas, you think You going 'oh wow i love cats theyre so cute' makes ppl upset as opposed to your friend going 'oh wow i love cats theyre so cute' cause youre sad sometimes or you think youre ugly or what have you?

and interestingly enough these end up f33ding into eachother- i wanna get 8etter for my friends cause it hurts us 8oth when i do things that hurt me > w8 that means they love me, if they didnt theyd just let me or WANT me to 8e sad and throwing away/around my rel8ionships all the time > i wanna get 8etter for my friends 8ecause they love me and watching someone you love fade and let themselves fade is so fucking heartwrenching, i havent gotten farther than that yet 8ut it k33ps 8uilding upon itself and!!! waaaaa im love. so thats 833n my year so far, deli8er8ly not including the VERY LARGE AND VERY UNIGNORA8LE THING that STARTED this whole i wanna get 8etter and 8e mature and then the i wanna learn my friends love me so we can love eachother more and i can spend and want to spend more effort into having 8etter healthier rel8ionships so we can love eachother more so we can learn healthier rel8ionships outside of these ones ...thing, cause i shalt not vague even if it is without ill intent or manner of speaking xoxo ♥ 8ut i will say it is a specific person that sent me on this good spiral in the first place and made me earnestly want to do my 8est to get 8etter and learn how to get 8etter instead of slumping into 'ung life already sucks so 8ad why 8other trying anyway' they inspire me and make me f33l like even if everything did or does suck they show there's something more to it all and i wanna find it even if i have to dig it up myself even if it takes a while or even if it's underwhelming or is hard to get a grip of there's still Them and that would make up for it and fill what it couldnt and!!! aaaaaaagh!!! im loving u_u it's all hard to word 8ut they made this year not just another year and they make me f33l okay with trekking on into the future even if i don't know what'll happen if theyre there may8e it wont 8e so 8ad and.... :3. here's to next year

#clove rambles #personal #the past few w33ks ish may8e more? ive 833n on the verge of tears at 8asically anything that makes me slightly emotional or happy #so hopefully this post will drag u into that with me too!!!!!!!! just for the dur8ion of this post though. :3

[acommonloon]

TL;DR

What a delicious memorable night!

Except, I returned to the scene of a crime and got a last call beer and I'm a little disturbed I can't remember what it was. Let me think.

Oh that's right. I remember now.

____________________________________________________________

I remember hours before, going in The Raven, circling the bar before walking back out, not a single beer worth the time to drink it.

I remember darting across two busy lanes of traffic to see what The Ainsley was all about. It was the second venue to inhabit my much loved and missed Blue Grass Brewing Company, where I bought countless beers in past years. I never went in The Sullivan, it first followed BBC but, The Ainsley laudes itself as an upscale sports bar.

I nearly didn't go in. The building outside blinded me with unadorned white walls and...they took all the fucking windows out! Still, I had just braved rush hour on Frankfort Ave in 90deg heat so I pushed on. I was back outside in less than 5 seconds.

The inside was...where old white people go to die and maybe a few patrons at the bar had succumbed. The place reeked like a basement couch leaking generations of old man farts and the barely moving white heads scattered along the bar looked like moths fluttering their last against a hot window sill. I ran back across Frankfort.

Briefly I considered bailing. I could be home in under an hour where I've got beer worth drinking for days, weeks even. I'm no quitter though. I was parked in front of Street Grub and Hops, a bizarrely named venue I'd been in a few times since The Mellow Mushroom failed to survive in Louisville's over crowded pizza market.

I remembered they had 30+ taps behind their large U-shaped bar and I could see the whole side of the building was open to the sidewalk. Inside a band was setting up to play so I was assured in this place I wouldn't need mothballs to dispel the odour of human demise.

If my sense of failing mortality seemed unaccountably morbid on a bright Friday afternoon, in my defense, a new place next to Street Grub caught my eye. NSD Bar it said on the sign. What's that? Never Say Die Bar <shakes head>

I was met at the bar by a lively young man with a lush black beard and handlebar mustache. Thirsty? he asked. You've no idea.

He gesture towards the wall of taps and said let me know if you see something that piques your interest.

I chuckled and said that's a tall order. I spend too much time beer hunting.

He laughed then and said to which spelling are you referring?

My brain stuttered then I got the clever play on words he'd heard in my "tall order" reply, accidental for sure.

Which did you mean I countered, then I spelled peak or pique? The second one he smiled as he walked off.

<sigh> it was 5:10 already and I didn't know it but I'd just experienced the high point of my visit to Street Grub. In spite of their large list, only one beer piqued my interest and Austin, of the peaky facial hair, apologized when he discovered it was no longer on. My second choice, in spite of being a Stone Brewing offering, had no more character than the Miller Lite branded glass they brought it in. Worst of all, the fried pickles sucked. I should have remembered that because I'd had them there before.

I got back in my car with no particular plan. Then remembered a friend had mentioned the bar I had visited on Saturday had a Speakeasy room in the basement. <shrug>The Speakeasy theme has never interested me but such places often do high quality drinks and my recent visit to Gerties upstairs bore that out. They made me a Penicillin or two actually and they were terrific. I could do with another or two.

As soon as I walked in, the bartender greeted me with, "You're back!" I grinned back at him and said, "I heard you've a room in the basement." We do and he pointed around the bar to a door and said tell the bartender downstairs his Penicillin isn't as good as mine.

Recently, the guy that runs a nearby wine bar told me I was memorable. He said, "You make an impression." I wasn't sure he was complimenting me but I do appreciate it when the bartender remembers what drinks I like. I headed downstairs into the dark. It was really dark and I was worried I might trip as I shuffled toward the dimly lit bar. The bartender shouted a hearty welcome and then he said knowingly, "I bet you want a Penicillin!" WTF

I replied, "What, the guy upstairs rang down? No he shook his head. I was at a loss until he took pity on me. He said, "I was upstairs the other day when you asked for a classic Penicillin. I make up all the drinks here so I noticed. Oh right, I said but actually, you look very familiar. Where have you worked before. When he said Red Herring it sounded right but I couldn't remember where that was. As soon as he told me it was next to the Silver Dollar the memories flooded back and we fondly reminisced about the drinks and food there.

Soon I had a classic Penicillin in front of me and we began to talk drinks. We included the only other guy at the bar in our conversation. He was rail thing, wore a scarf on his head, and had a robust but not too pornish mustache. I suspected he was staff there at Gerties. He was clearly interested but not so experienced. For the next two hours I enjoyed the back and forth and drinks.

Chad is a professional bartender who loves his job. He loves making drinks and he loves talking to people. While we chatted, more than twenty people, in pairs and sometimes larger groups came downstairs, got drinks and eventually left. At one point I was sure Matt Gaetz sat down at a two top. I did a double-take to be sure the woman with him wasn't Marjorie Taylor Greene in a wig. It was hard for me not to stare but I kept stealing glances. Eventually I concluded this guy was what Gaetz would look like if he wasn't befouled by evil. A very good looking guy!

When he left, I asked if I was the only one who thought that? No one had noticed but, by that time, Terrence, a large black man who'd come down with two white friends was standing next to me. He'd been ordering drinks when the bar conversation turned to German food and he joined our conversation eagerly. After delivering drinks to his friends, he returned to talk. When I suggested the guy who'd just left looked like the American traitor Matt Gaetz, he said no way! He went on to say Gaetz was a POS and if it had been him there might have been trouble. Lol, now that would have been memorable.

Terrence left wishing Chad and myself a good day, remembering both our names. It turned out the guy with the scarf on his head was a sous chef at nearby Bar Vetti. OMG, I'd meaning to go there but I worried D wouldn't like it. I asked him if they would make her a pepperoni pizza. He said they had one but it had calabrian and peppadew peppers on it. Yeah, can you take those off. Um yeah?

I said I'd just go check it out myself for dinner after I finished the Negroni riff Chad had excitedly made up on the spot using a special dry vermouth and something that wasn't Campari. He referred to it as a white Negroni. It was delicious!

Bar Vetti was only about a hundred feet down the sidewalk from Gerties. I enjoyed the early evening as I walked, it was comfortably warm with a gentle breeze and for the first time in a long time, Nulu felt normal. People were sitting outside the Taj and the Mayan Cafe, the evening was alive with conversation, color, and movement. When I looked in the windows of the new swanky Marriott Hotel it was the same inside and there might not be room for me at the bar.

I walked past the unattended hostess stand into a storm of blaring conversation. I stopped in front of an empty seat but there was a drink there so I turned around to the other side. I asked a man in a suit if the empty seat next to him was taken. It's yours he answered without looking away from his companion. I sat and picked up the wine list.

On my left were three young men, obviously of southwest Asian heritage. Within seconds I understood they were native English speakers and they were having a good time. The youngest one was next to me and he seemed barely old enough to shave. He was rather louder than the others and seemed to be mildly complaining about something. The bartender came over to them and appeared to pick up a conversation she must have started before I got there. It was really more of a lecture and she was telling them that she couldn't spend all of her time in front of them as she and another bartender had a full bar.

I felt myself tense a little, wondering if there was going to be an altercation. I didn't look at the young men but watched the bartender closely. While her words were stern, her body language seemed relaxed. I heard the man furthest away from me say, "That's fair." The bartender didn't acknowledge his words. She poured me a water and I asked for a glass of wine. Then I turned to the men.

"Are you guys from here or visiting?" I could see them tense up the young guy on guard most of all. I went on as if I hadn't noticed and said, I overheard you say this was your kind of place a minute ago. This is my first visit here and it's a bit fancy for me. They relaxed. I felt sure they were expecting to be challenged and I might look just like the kind of old white asshole who would do that.

We're from California the young guy said but we live here and work at Rabbit Hole. Do you know it?

Of course I said, it's something the city can really be proud of. I've been over there in the bar many times and the facility is gorgeous. Cameron seemed near to burst with happiness. He said, "We're just about to have a drink, will you join us? I said, sure what are we drinking. Rabbit Hole he said, "We got to represent!"

From that moment on, I had a dinner companion who was overjoyed to talk to someone who knows about the Kentucky whiskey business. When I said, the marketing for Rabbit Hole is genius, Cameron threw his hand up and pointed at the man farthest from me. Justin is our marketing!

Justin said well, to be honest I've only been there for 3 years and Cameron replied, "He's being too modest. We've only been open for 4 years. I asked Cameron, are you a distiller? I was when I first started he said. My uncle is the founder and I've got a business degree so now I work the financials. Wow, I replied.

He said, you have to come over and ask for us! We'll give you an insider tour. I waived that off a bit and said, I'll be sure to come back over but your beautiful column still is out where I can see it when I go to the bar on the roof. Sometimes I just stand at the end of the hall by the elevators and admire it. He said, "OMG we never get to talk to anyone like you!"

We had a drink of their Heigold and I didn't have to pretend it was good. I said, "I'd drank their sourced whiskey before but this was the first time I'd had something they'd distilled themselves other than their gin. It tasted more mature than I'd expected and I said I'd likely pick up a bottle now that I'd had it. I will.

Soon, Cameron's girlfriend came in and sat next to Justin. Cameron pretended to be annoyed and she seemed maybe a little suspicious of me. Soon she was sitting next to Cameron and was telling me all his faults. It was bar buddies in the best form. I asked for the whiskey list and suggested I buy us all a drink. I was disappointed by the selection TBH. The owner is a well-known whiskey aficionado and his BBQ joint just a block away has a much bigger selection of whiskey. I noticed an Old Forester Single Barrel Rye on the list and suggested it.

I specified it be served in rocks glasses instead of glencairns and we clinked our glasses when everyone had their drink. It was candy in a glass and far too sweet to be anything I'd recognize as rye whiskey but my bar buddies claimed to like it so no harm done.

When their food came, I settled my check and Cameron again expressed his pleasure at our talk. He renewed his invite to come to the distillery and I walked back out into the night.

When I got back to my car I looked up and saw Akasha Brewing was still open with people sitting at tables outside. The street at this end was quiet and peaceful. I remembered my last visit to Akasha hadn't gone well at all. The server there had refused to give me a taste of a beer. I was shocked. I'd already bought and paid for one beer when I asked for a taste. I said I was trying to decide which of two others I'd take home in a growler.

She said it was their policy not to give out tastes because people sometimes asked for lots of tastes and didn't buy a beer. WTF I had already bought a beer! I was so annoyed I'd decided not to drink at Akasha until they changed their stupid policy. If they were going to treat me like their worst customer, I wasn't going to spend my money there. Still, one more beer would be nice. Then I saw what I wanted.

That's it. A strong Belgian golden ale is what I had there!

#I remember #louisville #friday night