#i can literally say “good day” in like five sort of different ways

[lorddeathofmurdermountain]

I so desperately wish this was in a group chat so I could say [Croatian, kajkavski dialect, specifically from a certain part near the border between Međimurje and Varaždin County]:

"Dobri den"

[myfandomrealitea]

I know there's a lot of advice for handling things like depression and its so fucking easy for people to say "just do this and you'll feel better!" and I hate that, I fucking despise it, but I'm also gonna throw in my two cents about what is personally helping me get out of bed some days and genuinely, not kill myself.

Its taking care of nature.

Seriously. It sounds stupid and some days it feels stupid, but I put up bird feeders because I live in a semi-rural area where human activity is decimating the local bird population and options for safe feeding. So I put up bird feeders. And now I have like 83 different birds flocking to my garden on the daily and screaming at my window if the feeders are empty. And I've seen generations of baby birds brought to my garden by their parents because this is where the food is.

And I researched what plants and flowers were native to my area and I spent like $5 on a few different seed packets and sprinkled them around the grass and the sad empty flowerbeds and the lawn because the bees have nothing to eat and that's awful and it turns out wildflowers will fucking GROW the moment you look away, but now every spring and summer my lawn is a pretty little multi-colored bug haven.

And I've even gotten the chance to save a few little bug lives because of it. I've taken in cold-shocked bees and given them a warm little tupperware to recover in. I've fed bugs sugar water to get their energy back to take their food home. I've given dying bugs a sheltered, safe place to spend their last moments.

I planted a veggie garden. And I know I'm very lucky in that I have the space to do that, but also, you can grow a lot of things indoors. My friend has literally the smallest apartment you can imagine but she grows chives in her bathroom and grows five radishes at a time in a pot in the kitchen. Literally five. But it makes her so happy every single time she pulls them up or trots off to the bathroom to snip some chives.

I pick trash up every two weeks. The pick stick was like $4 online and I just put the bag out with my bi-weekly trash pick-up and its disgusting but but nobody else is gonna do it and I've only got finite time on this earth. If nobody else is going to pick up that can, I will. Because some innocent wild animal doesn't deserve to get hurt by human ignorance, and I deserve to walk home and see pretty flourishing nature instead of depressing discarded trash like I feel like most days.

I've left water out for the wildlife and watched hedgehogs, local dogs on their walks, squirrels and all sorts stop by to take a drink, because humans are fucking selfish and we're making something as basic as water so hard to access for anyone but ourselves, but I can fix a little bit of that just by putting out a bowl. Sometimes I don't even have to remember to fill it because the rain will fill it for me, and its kind of like nature's way of saying "you're helping me so I'm going to help you out too." Which is neat.

Like most days I do not want to be living on this earth but my god earth did not get a choice about us living here, and we're ruining it, and it actually feels so good to help stop and un-do a little bit of that destruction.

And you don't even have to try everything I do. If the only thing you've got the spoons to do is buy one bird feeder and you only remember to fill it once a month, its still something. That once a month could mean the difference between starvation and a full belly to a bird.

Again, none of this is obligatory and I'm not saying at all this is some magical cure for depression, but personally these things are things which are helping me slowly find things to keep getting out of bed for and things to feel a sense of self worth and satisfaction over. I feel better both in and about myself when I feed the birds, when I see the bugs in the garden, when I pick up the trash.

If its something you haven't considered yet, it might be worth a try.

[probablyintensemuses]

Dating Armando Aretas Would Include:

Grumpy x Sunshine Edition

🎧- Enchanted: Taylor Swift

pairing: Armando Aretas x black fem! reader

themes: grumpy x sunshine w/drabble

warnings: mentions of trauma & abuse, strong language, and a bit of gore.

authors note: I saw Bad Boys 4 again last night and it’s really refueled my Armando obsession, so more headcannons, drabbles, and fics on the way.

✨First Encounters✨

You and Armando meet in the worst of circumstances.

He, his father, and Marcus were on the run as wanted men, and you were the first person Mike thought to turn to after the attack at Tabatha’s.

Which he wasn’t wrong, you’d give your left kidney to Mike he’s saved you so many times.

You had let them into your small apartment, offering them clothes, food, and shelter until they could get in touch with the rest of the Ammo team and sort this shit out.

Armando had taken an interest to you then. Your house was warm and cozy, lived in. A small, plush couch, next to a coffee table littered with medical books. A kitchen stacked with teas and espressos , a dresser with vintage vinyls and a record player beside it. This was the kind of house he’d like to live in if he lead a different life.

You remember walking over to him, a picture of your parents and you when you were young in his hands.

“Those are my parents,’ you say. “I was ten then.”

Armando’s gruff exterior takes over though, and he doesn’t give you as much as a word back, let alone a thank you for feeding and housing literal fugitives.

You figured it was just him though and let it roll off you back like water.

You all got some sleep and the next day Mike asks you to drive them out to Dorn’s house on the dock. You agree and begin to load up the truck with guns, water, food, and extra clothes for the drive.

This is when Armando starts to question who you are and the legitimacy of your actions. Last person Mike trusted fucked them over, and he wasn’t having that shit again.

So he pulls his father aside and confronts him on the situation: you.

“How can we trust her?” Armando says, not far out of earshot of you.

“She’s good for it, trust me.”

“Didn’t you say that the last time and we got sold out. Don’t forget there is fucking five million dollar bounty on our heads. We can’t trust no one!” He whisper-shouted.

Mikes shoulders dropped. “I saved her life when she was younger, and I used to work with her parents. Trust me, she’s not going to pull a fast one. Because if she was, she would have done it already.”

Armando looked over at you, you’re dressed in a tank top, and that’s when he notices the cuts and burns littering your left arm. He sucks in a deep breath eyeing Mike who looks at you with sympathy too. There’s a story there, he’ll piece it together later, but for now he guesses you’re his only hope of getting out alive.

✨Post-fallout ✨

After you didn’t screw them over, and got them safety to Dorn’s, Armando found himself limping towards your apartment, blood trailing behind his feet.

Mike had sent him, and for some reason, at that moment, your place felt like exactly what he needed.

With the last of his energy, he banged on your door. Shortly, you answered and immediately went into panic mode.

The moment you let him inside, Armando crashes to the floor, passing out.

You screech and get every first aide equipment you have on hand and begin to bandage him up and stop the bleeding.

It took two bloody, sweaty hours, but you eventually got him all closed up.

Armando woke the next morning in a bed he didn’t recognize. This sent him into a frenzy. He went to shoot up out of the bed, but the soreness of his injuries knocked him back down.

“Fuck,” he moaned, grabbing at his torso.

From the living room, you turn down your headphones at the sound of movement. Armando must be awake.

Two days of rest, not bad.

You move towards the microwave and reheat the breakfast you had made him, pour some orange juice, and bring a whole heck of a lot of water and pain-pills.

Tray in hand, you kick open the door and slip inside your bedroom.

“Good morning.” You smile, setting the tray on the bed by his side. “How do you feel?”

“What the fuck did you put in this.” Armando asks, eyeing the food.

“Eggs, bacon, and toast.” You snicker.

Armando lifts a piece of toast, taking a bite. “If I die from this, I’ll kill you.”

“Noted, Sarg.” You salute.

You watch Armando eat his food with a smile on your face.

Eventually he looks up at you scowling. “Why are you staring at me.”

You shrug. “I’m just happy you’re okay.” You say truthfully.

“Well,’ Armando takes a swig of water, downing the pills. “Go be happy somewhere else.”

Your shoulders drop and you let out a sigh, you knew Armando was tough, but geez, you practically saved his life. Would it kill him to be a little nice?

But still you smile when you say, “okay, well if you need me, I’ll be out in the living room studying. Feel free to roam around, I don’t mind.”

It was a couple hours before Armando had come out of your room, limping over to the kitchen and rummaging through your fridge.

“I’m making dinner right now,’ you say, pausing your television show. “It’s a roast with veggies.”

“I want a beer.” He grumbles.

“Well I don’t have beer, but I do have wine.” You say, pointing to you collection of reds and whites.

“ I don’t want wine.”

“Okay, so what do you want me to do?”

Armando comes over to you, cornering you into the tiny space between your sink and the counter. “Get me a beer.”

“Let’s start over,’ you stick out your hand for a shake. “I think we’re at a misunderstanding of our situation.”

Armando frowns at your response, grumbling Spanish curses under his breath and walking away, slamming your door like a toddler.

The roast was done, and eventually you got Armando to come and have dinner with you…kind of.

He sat on the couch and watched the news, for updates on the status for his search, and you sat at the table, contemplating what to do with him next.

✨Enemies, Friends, Roomates✨

Mike had told you harboring Armando would only be for a short while until he could figure something out with the D.A’s office….that was three months ago.

Eventually you got your bed back, Armando taking the couch, but not your sanity.

Living with Armando wasn’t easy. He was brash, stand-offish, stubborn, and mean.

You did everything to try and form some kind of bond with him, even buying him gym equipment offline, but it just never clicked for him.

Not until one night when you’re studying late for an exam and happen to fall asleep at the kitchen table, books all around you.

That’s when you fall into a nightmare. The man who ruined your life the star of the show, again.

It always starts the same. You and your parents living happily at the park. Your parents watch you as you swing higher and higher, giggles filling the air. Then a man appears at the edge of the park, beckoning your parents over. You scream and shout for them but they never turn back, they keep going to the man. And when he has your parents in his grip, he brandishes a knife, slicing them open.

You let out a blood curling scream, slamming awake and falling to the group. Sweat sticks your curls to your face as you cry and gasp for breath.

Armando’s up in a second, swarming you.

“Estás bien?’ He pats you down, checking you out. “What’s happened to you?”

You can’t do anything but cry. The man who’s ruined your life, he’ll never leave you…he made sure of that in many ways. His latching to you is so deep that you can’t even escape him when you sleep.

You finally are able to get some words out, tell Armando, “I had a nightmare. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,’ he helps you stand. “Maybe you should get some sleep in your bed.”

You’re shocked by his response, but you’re even more shocked by the way he helps you to your room.

“What are you doing?” You asks, confused.

“You just flew out your chair from a nightmare, what do you mean what am I doing? I’m helping you.”

“Yeah, I get that…but you never help me.”

Armando sighs, holding his hands at his hips. “You gonna tell me what it was about, or should I leave.”

You sigh. “When I was younger, my parents worked for the Miami Police Department. They were detectives and before I was born they ended up helping catch this serial killer. His name was Gunter Bennett but the media called him “The Gutter” because that’s how he killed. Years later, somehow he escaped prison. That’s when he came for my parents. He killed them in the middle of the night.’ You take an uneasy breath, finding birth relief and shock when Armando’s hand slips into yours. “And I was sure he was going to kill me too, but he didn’t…he did worse. He kidnapped me and kept me at some shithole for three years. Three.”

You rile up your sleeves and show all your burns and cuts. Armando remembers them from the first day he met you.

“It’s how I got these. That sadistic bastard,’ you cry. “He tortured me.”

Armando feels something in him snap hearing your story and seeing the ways it’s effected you, even now. He knows what it’s like to be harmed and loose the people closest to you.

So he shocks even himself with what does next, scooping you up like a wounded bird and nuzzling under the blankets with you.

You whimper and sniffle in his arms and he just hushes you, stroking your curls.

“It’s going to be alright, niña bonita, he’s gone now.”

Slowly, the exhaustion of work, school, and your tears overcome you and you both drift off to sleep in each other’s arms.

✨My Lover✨

Armando was jealous.

You two had just spent the day out shopping, laughing and talking. Hell, you two live together! And yet you’re grinding on another man at the bar?!

The glass in Armando’s hand shakes and chips as he squeezes it further.

“Relax, muscle milk. You’ll break the glass.” Marcus says.

Armando scowls at him.

“I’m just saying, if you love her, tell her.” Marcus shrugs, walking away.

Armando scoffs. Love? Yeah right.

Did he feel close to you, yes.

Want to spend every breathing moment with you, yes.

Touch himself in the shower thinking about you, yes .

Oh fuck…he did love you.

Fuck! He loved you and you’re grinding another man!

Armando pushed out of his chair, it clattering to the ground in his wake.

He stalked over to you, grabbing your wrist and putting room between you and the man you danced on.

“ ‘Mando, what are you doing?” You stumble, clearly drunk.

“Let’s go.” He grabs you, chest heaving.

“Hey, wait!” You swat at him as he drags you through the bar and out the exit. “Why would you do that?” You whine.

“Because you’re drunk.” He rolls his eyes, slinging his leather jacket over your naked shoulders.

“I’m not!’ You whine, stumbling, luckily Armando catches you with ease. “I am.”

“You are. Let’s go.” He says, slinging you and carrying you bridal shower.

“Ah,’ you say, wrapping your arms around Armando’s neck and snuggling into him. “My knight in shining armor always takes such good care of me.’ You lean over, smacking his butt with a giggle.

“Shut up.” Armando says, resisting the urge to crack a smile.

Home, Armando tucks you into bed. He’s just about to walk away when you snatch his wrist, pulling him on top of you.

“Let’s play a game,” you whisper.

Armando rolls his eyes. “What kind of game?”

“Truth for truth. I tell you a truth and you do the same. “I’ll start.” You giggle.

“Tonight went exactly how I planned.”

Armando pulls back. “What do you mean by that?”

You shake your head and pout. “Uh uh. You’re turn.”

Armando sighs. “I don’t actually find you that annoying…anymore.”

“Ah, I knew it!” You laugh.

“Knew what?”

“Game over.’ You slump and snore, pretending to sleep.

“Stop it, you knew what?” Armando lifts you.

You bop his nose. “I knew that you loved me.”

Armando’s eyes get big. “What?”

“Me and kelly paid that guy to dance with me. We knew you’d get mad and that was all the proof I needed.”

“You’re a dick.” He starts to walk away, but you grab him by his belt loop.

“Okay, I’m sorry.” You pull him back. “But you don’t have to be shy.” You hiccup.

Armando grumbles, nuzzling his face into your stomach. “And why’s that?”

You lift his head, angling it to face you. “Because I love you too.” You lean forward, placing a firm kiss onto his plump lips.

Armando reciprocates, opening his mouth turning the kiss fierce and hot. He climbs on top of you, mumbling against your lips. “And I thought you were supposed to be the nice one.”

You giggle. “Feels good to be bad for a change.”

[katiemccabeswife]

Daddy Issues

Biv Meadema x Teen!Reader || The Christmas break was ruined by your Dad's anger issues but Beth and Viv are there to pick up the pieces of your broken heart.

4.9k words (proud ✊🏼)

You were more than happy to be back in dreary London after the Christmas break, which was abnormal because you loved your home country and having Christmas with your family.

This Christmas had been a good one, after a couple years of cold and rainy summers, Australia had finally had a cracker of a summer and for the first time in years, the lead-up to Christmas actually felt like Christmas again.

You always loved getting to be home with your family and being able to go to the beach every day and this year was no different. Christmas day was wonderful, it started with a swim at the beach and was followed by a beautiful lunch filled with laughter and joy from friends and family.

Your relationship had always been a bit rocky. Sometimes you got on like a house fire, poking fun at your sister together and doing work around the house but other times you got on like cats and dogs. Your mum had always said that you two were too alike and that’s why you fought as much as you did. But it was also known within the four walls of your house that your Dad could be bipolar at times and had an explosive temper and should definitely be in some sort of program for his anger issues that seemed to come out of nowhere.

It was a few days after Christmas and only a few days were left before left to go back to London. You and your Dad were joking like usual and everything seemed fine, until it wasn’t.

You had some family friends over and you guys had just started a game of poker when your Dad asked you to go clean up the kitchen.

“Dad, we literally just started. I’ll do it after, don’t worry,” You weren’t facing him so you couldn’t see his unamused face and took his silence as a silent agreement.

Not even five minutes later he asked you again, “Alright. Now go do the dishes, Y/N,” He said sternly. You had an ongoing joke between the two of you where he would pretend to be stern about something and you would jokingly say ‘No’ right before getting up to go and do whatever he had asked of you. As you were still facing away from him and knew he could see you were still engaged in the game of poker, you assumed he was only joking.

“No,” You giggled slightly and so did the others around the table, “I’m almost out anyways, I’m running out of candy canes,” You joke as candy canes had been the substitution for money.

He only became more consistent with his asking and it was starting to piss you off. You weren’t very good at gambling and were trying to focus and his nagging was throwing you off.

Once you finally got out, first by the way, you were getting up to go and clean the kitchen when your Dad once again asked you to go and do exactly that, “What does it look like I’m doing?” You were fed up with his nagging and your voice portrayed that and the others around the table picked up on it.

“Someone’s mad they lose,” Your sister called out to you.

“Don’t be mad just because you lost!” Your cousin teased.

“Off you go to clean the kitchen,” One of your Dad's mates called out.

“Don’t be mad that you lost!” Your Dad called out which was the final straw for you.

“I’m not mad about losing, I’m pissed off because you’re sitting right behind me asking to clean the kitchen every 5 seconds when you can clearly see that I was in the middle of a game!” You can understand why your Mum says you and your Dad were so alike, but to be fair, he was extremely annoying with his constant nagging behind you.

After making your way inside and to the kitchen you began cleaning but were soon interrupted by your father storming into the kitchen pervaded with anger, "How fucking dare you?" You turned around and saw him making his way over to you.

You thought he was joking in the way you two had been for the past week you spent together, "What?" Your tone held an essence of humour to cover the genuine confusion.

"Get the fuck out!" Your father screamed at you.

"What!" You screamed in confusion as your entire body filled with dread and fear.

"After everything we've done for you! Get the fuck out!" You were trembling with fear when he stepped closer to you, held your arm with one hand and raised his other. You coward away from the large man you recognised as your father.

You ducked under his arm, picked up your keys and ran out of the house and towards your car. You got in and sat in silence for a moment before a wave of sadness washed over your body like a cold shower and you began to sob. You held your hands over your face and cried, you cried like you did when you were 7 years old and didn't finish your dinner because you were sick and your Dad yelled at you just like he had just now, like you did when you were 14 and stood up for your sister who was too scared to and your Dad's face was just as angry as it was a few minutes ago, just like you did when you were 16 and talked back to your Dad, fed up with his borderline misogynistic comments and you were almost as scared of him as you were right now.

You cried because you were scared your father was going to hit you. Your Dad always had a temper and exploded from time to time but never had he ever grabbed you and never had you genuinely believed he was going to hit you. Your hands were shaking and your chest hurt as you couldn't take in a full breath of air and your head was beginning to hurt from crying so hard. You were 19 years old and still crying over your Dad.

After 15 minutes of crying your heart out you started your car and went on a drive. You drove to the beach and took out the towel that was still in your car from your trip earlier that day and you walked towards the water. The waves had calmed and were no longer crashing into the shore with great force but softly rolled through the water and flattened against the sand with grace. You set down your towel and stripped from your clothes, thanking yourself for staying in your bikini all day and walked into the water.

You dove under the water and relished in the calmness and quietness you felt swimming. Once you'd swam out until you couldn't touch you moved to float on your back, closed your eyes and took a deep breath. You floated there numbly for at least 20 minutes before you got out and wrapped yourself in your towel. You sat in the sad, silent tears rolling down your cheeks as you watched the sun dip below the horizon. Once the light had been stripped from the sky you walked back to your car before the light of an ice cream shop caught your eyes.

You treated yourself to a double-scooped waffle cone and sat down outside the shop, looking over the beach you could barely make out. You knew how your Father would act if you went back home, he would ignore you, pretend you didn't exist and not talk to you until he felt better and after that time was up you would have to pretend nothing happened. You always did so because he was your father, your best friend at times and how could you not forgive him for screaming in your face?

You were grown now though and you weren't going to pretend this never happened and you decided that you weren't going to talk to him until he apologised. You knew that wasn't going to happen anytime soon so, you got out your phone and booked a flight back to London.

Once you had finished your ice cream it was well into the night and you had a flight to catch in 6 hours so you went back to pack your things.

You thought that everyone would have left by now and your family would be asleep but by the number of familiar cars littered through the street and the lights still on in your house, you knew that was not the case. You took a deep breath before walking into the house, keeping your head held high but not making eye contact with anyone. You walked straight past the living room ignoring the calls of your name and headed straight to your childhood room.

You were putting the few things that were spread around back into your suitcase when your Mum walked in, "Y/N, what happened honey?"

You tried to contain your tears as you turned to look at your Mum but as soon as you started speaking, the floodgates opened and you sobbed again, "I thought he was going to hit me," You said through the tears and your mother took you into her arms, securing your head with one hand, the other rubbing up and down your back to comfort you.

"I'm sorry, y/n/n, I'm sorry, but you know that you shouldn't push your father like that," You ripped yourself out of her hold and stared at her in betrayal, "You two are too similar, it's only a matter of time before joking become reality and laughing becomes crying. You know he has a temper, you need to be careful. I also think you should be the bigger person and apologise." She said. Whilst you didn't blame your mother for your father's actions a part of you despised how she always sat and watched you and your sister cry while he yelled at you two minutes after laughing with you.

You turned around silently zipped up your suitcase and walked to leave, "Where are you going, baby?"

You faced her with fresh tears born from anger, " I am leaving, I'm going back to London because I shouldn't have to 'be careful' around my own Dad. You know how fucked that is!? I shouldn't have to be the bigger person! He's a grown man, he needs to learn to regulate his fucking feelings and act like it!" You had never shouted at your Mum and you barely ever swore around her but you were tired of her picking your Dad's side over yours.

She tried to reach out to you but you brushed past her slightly and walked out the door. You should have been the bigger person and left silently but you heard your Dad laugh in the living so you left your suitcase at the door and walked to where your Dad sat. You walked straight up to him with a straight face, flung your middle finger into his direction and said, "Fuck you, you fucking pussy." You walked straight out the door and didn't hear a word from anyone in the house.

You spent the entire 24-hour trip back to London reflecting on the past day and what it meant for the future of the relationship with your parents. You knew your Mum just wanted to be the mediator and that your Dad was too stubborn to apologise. You also knew that you were going to stick to your word and not speak to your parents until they apologised. You also grieved the relationship with your father as you knew that it would never be the same ever again. It was one thing that he grabbed you and then he had to restrain himself from actually hitting you.

You grieved for the little girl who just wanted to please her father, who wished she was a boy because your Dad often talked about how much he wanted one. He was the reason you started football. Girls didn't really play it, it was seen as something only boys should be doing, so you cut your hair and signed up for the local club. He came to every game and cheered you on and after a good game he'd say to you, "Who needs a son when I've got you," It seemed like a nice statement but looking back on it, it really messed with you.

It was only when you moved out and overseas to play for Arsenal at 17 that you realised that your Dad really wasn't the best guy and an even worse Father. Albeit that you never said or did anything about it because you thought of all those kids whose Dad hit them or left them when they were young and reminded yourself that you were lucky.

But now, after 2 years of living by yourself and a therapy session here and there you realised that just because other kids had it worse didn't mean that what you went through was ok or that you didn't deserve to be treated the way you were.

When you landed and got your luggage it was 8 in the morning and you felt your phone buzzing in your hand. Beth was calling you and you weren't sure if you should answer but you knew she would worry if you didn't so you headed to the nearest bathroom and answered her Facetime, "Hey, Beffy," Your voice was a little hoarse from crying and you hoped Beth wouldn't pick up on how red your eyes were.

Beth smiled at you, "Hey chicky," She must have noticed that you were hiding in a bathroom, "What you doing?" She questioned.

"Umm," You hesitated, "I'm in the bathroom... In the airport," You said sheepishly.

Beth's smile dropped and her face took up a concerned look, "Why are you at the airport? Which one?"

You picked at your nails, anxious to tell her where you were and scared she would ask why, "London," You almost whispered.

"Oh," She looked really concerned now, "Do you want me to come pick you up?"

You shook your head quickly not wanting to be a nuisance, "It's alright thank you, I've ordered an Uber," You smiled slightly at the thoughtfulness of your friend.

"Well, why don't you come over for breakfast. I want to hear all about your holiday and I can even get Vivi to make the special waffles you like?" She was so hopeful you couldn't deny her offer and you really wanted Viv's special waffles.

"Yeah ok, I'll be there around 9? Is that alright?" Anxiety pulled at your chest at the thought of telling her and Viv about what happened with your Dad.

"Perfect, I'll see you soon, chicky!" You smiled and hung up the phone. You walked out of the cubicle and splashed water on your face to try and even out your breathing.

"Fucking idiot."

Thanking the Uber you rushed up the stairs towards Viv and Beht's place eager to fill your hungry stomach although once you'd got to the door you hesitated to knock. You checked your eyes in your phone camera and concluded that you could blame the slight redness and puffiness from sleeping and hayfever (it seemed you had hayfever all the time and the girls always made fun of your sneezes and even kept count, each time urging you to beat your 'high score').

You took a deep breath to release the hold anxiety seemed to have on your heart before knocking on the door. You instantly heard Myle and Rona barking and the sound and smiled, now excited to play with the puppies.

"Y/N/N! Oh, my little chicky," You were immediately wrapped in a hug from the girl and whilst reciprocating it you felt the urge to cry taking over you once again but you had cried enough for a long time and told yourself to suck it up.

"Hi, Beffy," Your voice was muffled from you pressing it into the crook of Beth's neck.

Beth waited for you to release the hug (she seemed to have a sense of when people needed a hug) and when you did she took your face between her hands, "How have you been, y/n/n?" She asked worriedly.

You smiled sadly at her, "I'm alright, thanks, how are you?"

Beth didn't seem convinced but knew you were aware you could talk to her at any time and if you weren't ready, she would wait, "I am even better now that you are here!" She exclaimed before taking your suitcase in one hand and your hand in her other and dragged you into the house, "Oh, Vivi! I've just gotten a very special delivery!" She turned back and winked at you but continued to lead you to the kitchen.

"Y/N/N!" Viv said with mock enthusiasm, trying to match Beth's with great difficulty with it being early in the morning.

You met her in the middle and gave her a hug, knowing she was joking and that she wasn't a morning person, "Hi, Vivi," You greeted.

Once you broke out of the hug you sheepishly looked to the waffle machine and back to Viv who caught on to your looks, "They'll be 'bout 2 minutes. I know two fluffy little girls who would love to see you," She egged on and you quickly went to find the puppies.

Once you spotted them you dropped to your knees and soon you had two dogs jumping on you and licking your face, "Hello Miss Rona and hello Miss Myle! How are we today my girls!" You spoke in a baby voice and continued to talk to the dogs as if they were such, oblivious to the conversation happening in the kitchen.

"Is she alright? She looks like she's been crying. And wasn't she supposed to come back in another 4 days?" Viv questioned.

Beth sighed and wrapped her arms around her girlfriend, "I don't know what's up but she definitely has been crying and I bet that would explain why she's back so early. When I called she looked like she'd only just stopped crying, I don't know what happened," She looked desperately at Viv. Beth and Viv were unofficially your step-in parents whilst you were in London or wherever you travelled with Arsenal. Beth was a second Mum to you and she took her role very seriously, always checking if you'd had a good sleep and what you had for dinner and if neither of you had plans she would always invite you over for dinner and a movie.

Viv was your unofficial 'Dad' as you'd claimed and would come over to your apartment to fix anything that needed to be done and give you piggyback rides when you were 'too tired' to walk, "Do you want to ask after breakfast? I don't want her to feel overwhelmed, maybe I'll take Myle and Rona for a walk and you could talk to her then?"

Beth nodded, "Yeah alright, I'll do that," She agreed with a sad face.

Viv noticed the look and hugged her again, "She'll be alright, she's with us now, yeah?"

"I just worry about her when she goes home. I miss her as well," She took a deep breath and put on a brave face when you walked in with Rona and Myle on her heels.

"Umm, I think the waffles are done?" You pointed to the waffle iron that was lightly smoking.

Viv rushed over and took out the waffles that were only slightly burned around the edges, "Crispy edges give them more flavour," she told you when she put them in front of you.

You looked up at her in amusement, "Of course, Vivi," You joked while adding your choice of toppings.

You, Beth and Viv conversed lightly over breakfast about your trip home and what you got up to whilst in Australia. You told them what you did with a smile on your face but they both noticed how it didn't stretch as far as usual and how you talked as if your parents hadn't been there at all albeit you staying in their house.

"Right, y/n/n you can go get yourself sorted in the spare room. You are staying tonight," Beth ordered jokingly to which you smiled and nodded in agreement, not really wanting to be alone for another night, "Vivi's gonna walk the puppies and I'll clean up." She clapped her hands and everyone spread off to their 'assignments'.

As Viv was a very clean cook Beth's cleaning was more or less tidying and she quickly joined you in the spare bedroom, "Hey chicken," She spoke softly when she walked in and noticed you staring at the wall looking crestfallen.

You smiled as brightly as you could, "Hi Beffy, sorry I got distracted. I'm a little bit jet-lagged," You waved off, "Do you need help cleaning the kitchen?"

Beth joined you on the bed, "It's all sorted don't worry sweetheart. How you feeling?" She questioned looking you deep in the eyes.

Her stare was so loving and concerned that it made that stupid feeling of crying come back, "I'm fine? You?" Your voice was slightly off as you had a lump in your throat but tried to play it off.

Beth sighed as she didn't want to press you but had to know what was going on with you, "Chick..." She spoke softly and you had to turn your head so she wouldn't see your eyes filling with tears.

She placed a hand on your shoulder and rubbed it gently and you couldn't hold it anymore, your hands came to cover your face and you brought your knees up to your chest and sobbed loudly.

"Oh, honey, no," Beth hated seeing anyone cry but you had a special place in her heart which hurt her even more. She moved your head to be on her shoulder and your legs to lay across her own. She rocked slightly and continued to rub your back. You were hysterical at this point, the comfort Beth was bringing you reminded you of your mother which reminded you of her taking your father's side which brought on another loud sob from deep in your chest.

Beth had to lift your head from her neck to make sure you could get enough oxygen and wouldn't pass out, "Honey, I know it's hard but I need you to take a deep breath for me please," She grabbed your water bottle from the nightstand and gave it to you and you clung to it like a lifeline.

You truly were trying to calm yourself but you couldn't stop crying and you couldn't get enough air to your lungs which was starting to hurt and you began to cough and gag. "Lovely, what's going on?" Beth was extremely concerned you were going to pass out.

After another minute of coughing and gagging you managed to get enough air into your lungs and nestled your head back into Beth's neck and she took your body back into her arms, "I thought he was going to hit me," You cried out as if the words caused you physical pain.

Beth was shell-shocked from the words that came out of your mouth but quickly recovered to comfort you. "Your dad?" She questioned as you had confided in her before about his temper.

You nodded and whimpered slightly as you had calmed down and were no longer audibly sobbing, "And mum," The thought of your mother made you sob again and it took you another minute to rein it back in all whilst Beth sat there patiently waiting for you to talk.

You managed a deep breath and Beth wiped your face free of tears although they were quickly replaced with new ones, "My dad got really angry and then he grabbed my arm and he had his fist up," You cried, "I thought he was going to hit me!" You sobbed.

Beth shook her head and cooed, "Did he?"

You shook your head and Beth relaxed slightly, "And then mum said- she said that I should know better than to push his buttons and that I needed to be careful and that I should apologise!" You weren't the only one who was angry now but Beth had to contain hers to continue to comfort you.

Beth shook her head, "That's not ok, y/n/n, it's not and I am so sorry you had to go through that and I'm glad that you told me, thank you for trusting me,"

You nodded sadly, "I love you Beffy," And you collapsed into her hold and cried silently as she rocked you.

"I love you too, chick, did you leave straight after that?" She questioned wanting to get a better idea of how quickly you left.

She felt you shake your head 'no', "I drove off to the beach and then got myself an ice cream and booked the flight. And once I got home, that's when mum said all that stuff but I'd already packed my bag so I went to leave but my dad was in the living room and he was laughing. I don't know what he was laughing at but it made me so angry so I went and called him a 'fucking pussy'," You both giggled slightly at it, you weren't known to swear and it always sounded weird coming from your mouth.

"I'm proud of you, sweets," Beth kissed the top of your head.

You nodded into her chest, "Thank you, for being here for me" You spoke quietly. Beth continued to rock you and had to look to the ceiling to stop herself from crying. She looked down when she heard quiet snoring coming from you and laid you down against the pillow and laughed quietly at you hugging your water bottle.

She had walked into the kitchen before she started crying. She didn't know how long she'd been standing there crying until two sets of paws jumped at her thighs and when she looked up she saw Viv's concerned face.

Viv dropped the leads on the kitchen counter and gently took hold of Beth's arms, "What's happened? Where's y/n?" She questioned quickly.

Beth sobbed quietly, "She- and her dad- oh and then her mum-," She couldn't get a full sentence out so after holding her in her arms to calm her down, Viv gave her a glass of water.

They had moved to the couch which was where Beth explained the whole story to Viv who was extremely concerned, "And she was crying so hard she was coughing and gagging. Vivi, I was so scared she'd pass out and oh her little face! I don't know how I kept it together!" She outraged quietly, acknowledging the fact that you were asleep down the hall.

Viv once again held Beth, just like she had you, "I can't believe it. I've met him and he seemed lovely. I mean I know they didn't always get along but I never thought it was that bad," She spoke in disbelief.

Beth nodded and was significantly more calm than she had been previously, "She's sleeping now. God, she must be exhausted. I feel so bad for her, my poor little chicken," Beth pouted at the thought of your sad face.

"I know, love, but she's here now, right? She is safe and she's sleeping, it'll be ok," Viv consoled.

"Yeah," Beth nodded dejectedly.

Once you woke up you checked your phone and realised you'd slept for 5 hours but it felt like you could sleep for an eternity. You didn't feel up to talking to the girls yet so you opened your phone and scrolled through Instagram for a while. Most of the Arsenal girls had posted photo dumps of the year and you smiled every time you saw yourself in one and when you saw the girl's comments. Beth and Viv's photo dumps warmed your heart. You appeared in almost all of the photos and laughed when you saw Katie's comment.

katie_mccabe11 might aswell adopt y/n/n now, hey?

You felt so loved and warmed that you decided to post your own.

yourusername

liked by stephcatley, lliawaelti and others

yourusername eternally grateful for my girls, i love you all ❤️ happy new year!

view 567 comments

kyracooneyx awe stop it you sap 🤭

alannakennedy love ya darls 🩷

leahwilliamsonn my favourite chick 🐥

bethmead_ love you chicken ❤️

Once you had plucked up the energy to head outside you were met with Viv and Beth tucked under a blanket with Netflix loaded on the screen in front of them and a variety of your favourite snacks on the table.

"Hey, y/n/n," Viv noticed you first and Beth quirked up at the sound of your name.

You were standing sheepishly in the hall with one of your pant legs pushed up to your knee, your hair a mess and your water bottle between your arms. Beth cooed at the sight of you, "Come over here chick," She moved over so you would sit between her and Viv.

"Any movie suggestions?" Viv asked teasingly, knowing which movie you would want to watch.

You smiled at her and leaned against Beth, "Grown Ups?" You offered and Viv snickered at the choice, it being your go-to movie.

"Of course," She put it on and whilst you could recite the entire movie off by heart you were still upset that you missed most of it but blamed Beth running her hands through your hair and Viv rubbing your lower legs for putting you to sleep, somewhere where you felt safe, warm and loved.

[nvuy]

How do you write so well? I'm trying to get into writing because I YEARN to create, but it is very difficult. Do you have any tips? I try and create, but it feels like there is a brick wall in my brain 😫 I also struggle to come up with ideas 😭😭

oh worm thank you so much im so honoured… i don’t want to just say ‘practise,’ even though that is half of quite literally improving in anything.

i am going to long post now. you’re welcome. this is my little guide to writing. in no way am i saying my writing is perfect and world class five stars, but this is just some things i learned along the way that helped me get better!!!

now this is all assuming considering you read my works that you also want to write reader inserts, but even if that’s not the case, i think all this stuff applies to normal writing as well.

what i do like to think is that ‘good writing’ is very very subjective. for example, i prefer much more philosophical pieces, ambiguous endings, extensive world building, and things like that, and i like to put it in my writing.

however, what you may like about my writing could be what someone else absolutely hates. not everyone can be bothered to read 4 pages on a heavy description of a quiet deserted street in the rain, or a dusty old library , or the bustling atmosphere of a cafe. some writers like to do scenarios without fully developed plots. some do.

WRITING IN A NUT SHELL

what really helps is to find where you lie on this spectrum. do you prefer overtly poetic descriptive writing, or straight to the point, no beating around the bush? or does it depend?

i know it’s sounds taxing to write heavy descriptions and worldbuilding and this and that, but if you like to read it, chances are you may also like to write it yourself.

this is a tip i lowkey thought was common sense, but i’ve spoken to moots on discord and other platforms about it, and a lot of writers just… don’t know about it?

basically it’s that A First Draft is a First Draft. this has been said time and time again. j.r. tolkein didn’t write LOTR in a day, rowling did not write the entire harry potter series in one shot. nobody did that.

as well as this, my first drafts never start out as fully fledged stories. most of them look like this:

notice the obnoxiously large gap in between? yep! two entirely different scenes, but under the same concept. you don’t need cohesion in your drafts. that comes with time. get all your ideas down first.

my first drafts are awful. they’re absolute dogshit. most of the time, i abandon a lot of my works altogether. but i never delete anything, because sometimes i may come back and suddenly get inspiration again.

most of my first drafts look like this:

notice how it lacks with everything. there’s no flavour here. it’s incredibly dialogue heavy, and it’s clearly supposed to have some sort of surreal feeling to it.

come back to it later only when i feel like it and rewrite it only when you feel like it:

same concept, same exact scene, but now it has more emotion. because i’ve written it a second time, or maybe even a third, or fourth (anymore than that, and im sorry, but drop it. it’s doing you more harm than good). so many people hit this writers block because they want their first draft to be perfect and it won’t ever be.

don’t focus on the itty bitty details. get the idea down first. you can always come back later. it really really helps to get out of ruts and stuff.

another thing: You Don’t Need To Start With Writing Fanfics Right Away. and i wouldn’t recommend it. not doubting you, or any other young bright-eyed writers, but fanfics are gruelling work that require lots and lots of planning.

i would honestly recommend getting started and finding comfort with one shots and/or headcanons, or drabbles, or whatever else short fics are called, because they require a lot less dedication, and it’s a lot more fun, because you can spring from one idea to another. majority of my works are short fics for a reason. it’s a lot easier to write, and i personally find it more enjoyable :) try it out!

IDEAS: WORLDBUILDING

(this next segment is assuming your fic wants to take place in a different area than canon) (otherwise, check out descriptions/images/videos of the place your world is supposed to be set in!! same idea!!)

if you’re unsure about worldbuilding and what exactly this place you’re creating is supposed to look like or how it might function, browse pinterest! there’s so many real and/or fake & rendered places on that site. is your area really cold and constantly snowing? search up some art with those key words. it could help you gain a clearer image!

let’s use an example: say the world im building my fic is based in a very cold, always snowing, always icy town. we go on pinterest, have a bit of a look around, and then we go Ooh this looks interesting!!

this is a painting by alexander andriyanov.

who are these people? where are they? what’re they doing? is horseback and carriage their primary mode of transport? do these people have access to vehicles like cars? do cars exist in my world at all? what are the surrounding buildings? etc etc.

TLDR: what im trying to say is if it helps you, look at something, listen to music, watch a movie, and then ask the question How Do I Make This About Me?

this speedpaint by darek zabrocki helped me get an idea of what snezhnaya in my multi chapter fic on ao3 was supposed to look like. obviously snezhnaya isn’t released in genshin just yet, so it allows me a lot of creative freedom in that regard.

you can always always use other people’s works as inspiration. why do you think so many songs these days use samples from older tracks? it’s basically the same thing. obviously, don’t downright copy, that’s plagiarism, but seriously. if you’re struggling to create this world in your head, pinterest is your best friend.

IDEAS: PLOTS & THE CENTRAL CONFLICT

in terms of coming up with actually plot ideas, i said it before and i’ll say it again. movies, shows, games, other people’s stories, other fanfics/books, paintings and other forms of artwork, history, etc.

if you’re writing a fanfic, most writers like to take the canon route, and you’re welcome to do that.

if you’re worried about your own ideas being lacklustre or you can’t think of anything, but the canon storyline is good for your fic, canon divergence is always fun!

for example! i haven’t posted it here, but i always did have this idea of a neuvillette centric fic based on the love letter he received in one of the world quests. so you take something that happened in the game, and then you ask AGAIN: How Do I Make This About Me?

in terms of thinking up an entirely different idea or concept or prompt or whatever you want to call it, there’s honestly no right or wrong way of doing it. it’s really, really difficult though. i have so many ideas that are more suitable for one shots that fully fledged fanfictions.

again, read books you like. read other people’s works. read lore of the fandom you’re writing about, or better yet, sometimes i go off of a fleeting thought that a random NPC said at some point in the storyline that had little to no effect on the story.

what constitutes as a good plot and a bad plot is a matter of opinion. as long as there’s evident improvement (or the opposite, if that’s your fancy) of your characters in your story, whether that be their personality, relationship with others, or whatever, then you’ve successfully written a cohesive narrative.

how most of my works start is actually because i randomly come up with one scene in my head that haunts me. i call them Brain Rots™.

for example, in my scaramouche fic on ao3, the scene that started the entire thing was of some sort of solider that presented a ring to the doctor in a very cold and barren wasteland.

and then i asked, what is the significance of this ring? is the solider injured? should the doctor care? why are they there in the first place? where is this place? where do they go after this?

hopefully you get the picture.

TLDR: figure out what makes your Brain Rot™ about the particular scene that’s playing on repeat in your head, find your inspiration through any sort of media you enjoy consuming that you find directly links to your ideas (because most likely if you enjoy something, you’ll be inspired by it more than you would with something you actively don’t like) (and this ‘media’ ranges from pictures, real life anecdotes/stories, video games, other fics, music, art, etc.), ask questions (How Do I Make This About Me), and then answer them yourself!!!!

and also just practise and practise and practise!!! you will subconsciously develop new skills by consuming media and reading other people’s works that you really like. it all comes with time :) !!!!!

[youcouldmakealife]

Stuff That Helps Me Write: Pacing (no, not that kind), and burnout avoidance

So this was supposed to be about something entirely different., but every time I started making a point, I got distracted by a second, bonus idea (ways to trick your brain when it's not cooperating with you! things I've tried (I will try everything) and what worked and didn't! what to do with writer's block!) and then start writing about that, and I've got half a dozen unrelated paragraphs going in my drafts, so I think I'm just going to make this a mini-series of 'stuff that helps me write and may also help you (or maybe they won't, I don't know, this shit's all subjective)'.

If there's anything in particular you'd like to hear about, or something about my process you're curious about, absolutely feel free to reply or shoot me an ask and I'll do my best to address them as I go.

But yeah, pacing. And more specifically, not burning out. I figured it was important I hit this one first, because I think it's the most important one, or at least, the one that makes the biggest difference.

With the caveat that I am someone who has repeatedly driven myself into burnout, I'm also someone who now knows why that is, and have been teaching myself how to, you know, not do that.

So. Here's how I, you know, don't do that.

Will preface this by again mentioning that most writing advice (and advice in general) never seemed to work for me, and I mostly thought I was just Bad at Doing Things, until I learned my brain's literally wired differently, and that I'd been trying to apply processes that didn't actually work for said wiring.

So instead, I figured out what worked for me. And what works for me isn't necessarily what will work for you, or even what will work for me a month or five years down the line, but it's going okay right now.

I'll straight up say that, contrary to all the Writing Advice, I don't write every day, and I don't think it's necessary, or even necessarily a good idea -- I have at times, but I no longer do, because if I write for more than six days straight I find the proverbial well dries up and I write less than I do had I just taken a break when I needed it.

Cognitive energy and the sort of ephemeral ~inspiration (work that's been done on a subconscious level) are fundamentally no different than physical energy: if you don't replenish it, you will run out. If you overdo it, you will run out. If you consistently overdo it without replenishing it, you will burn out.

Taking a page from hockey players here: if you did an intense workout right before a game they'd ask what the fuck was the matter with you. You need a nap and a meal and to get some stretching and light work in. Running at 100% all the time will burn you out in every single field, including this one.

That's not me saying not to run at 100% at all. I generally try to pace myself now, but if I'm really in it, and the words are coming easily, I don't stop until they stop -- I wrote just shy of 4k of later scenes for SAIT last week (my 2024 record!), all in one sititng, by hand, when I was supposed to be sleeping, because that's when the inspiration came. I didn't fall asleep until past 6am that night, and my hand is still mad at me.

But you know how much writing I got done the follow day? (None, I was busy transcribing 4k of handwriting). The rest of this week? (Not much more than that). Those bursts of energy are awesome, and honestly can make you feel like a writing god, but the well's the well, and I've learned my personal well is about 5000 words a week deep.

Before my most recent scrape with autistic burnout, which I'm still sort of climbing my way out of, that well was closer to 7500 words. But honestly, it probably wasn't; I was likely just siphoning words from future wells and then it all caught up with me when I was looking at a horizon of dry-ass wells ahead of me. (I'll admit this isn't a perfect metaphor.)

But seriously, my advice for basically everything, not just writing (and something I wish I'd learned before I hit my 30s), is 'figure out what pace you can work at sustainably'.

Please note that 'sustainably' is not 'without literally dying'. Because my literal ass thought when people said 'give it 100%' they meant, you know, 'give it 100%' (I know! absurd of me), rather than 'give the best effort you can give in this moment considering your current resources'. So I gave it my all (also interpreted that one wrong I guess?). And then I wondered why I kept hitting a wall all the time. And why, eventually, I stopped being able to climb that wall entirely.

I don't think I'm ever going to reach that 7500 word threshold again. There will be weeks I'm so inspired I write that much, but the next week I probably won't manage more than 2500. Or maybe I'll have two 7500 weeks in a row, but I'll need to take a whole week off after that, or spend several weeks working at a lower tempo while I let the well replenish itself.

I've been tracking some metrics quite closely as I sort of tweak my life into its new shape (said shape being 'do the best you can given your resources') , and during my most productive month of this year I wrote 3x as much as the worst (writing wise, I was finalising publication at the time), my current weekly average is about 4800 words. Sometimes it's a bit higher or lower, sometimes much higher or lower, but that's what I can sustainably do right now.

Frankly, I'm a little cranky about this: I know I can do more, because I did do more. But my priority now is not to send myself straight back into burnout again, so when I sprint, it's just that, rather than my previous 'trying to run a marathon at the pace of a sprinter'. I'm writing less than I used to, but it's honestly not that much less: because the pace is sustainable rather than boom and bust, I don't run myself ragged enough to desperately need a break.

I'm aware this advice only works if you have control over your own time, and a schedule that doesn't force you to focus on writing say, one day a week, or around other obligations, but the only real workaround for burnout is consistency, and that consistency cannot be your maximum.

Or, it can, but I guarantee you that will bite you in the ass at some point, and the pain of not getting enough done is nothing compared to the pain of not being able to get anything done because your nervous system threw up its hands and decided if you weren't going to listen to their clues (feelings, symptoms) or their warnings (Feelings, Symptoms) that you were overdoing it, they were going to shut your ass down until you listened.

0/10 do not recommend.

Next week: how to trick your brain into doing shit that it doesn't feel like doing, even though it's onto all your tricks by now. Or at least, how I trick mine.

[unlikelyfanhairdoalmond]

Oh my, so interesting what he explains about him and Téa. 🥹 So happy for them, and for him to have found someone like this. ❤️

[VIDEO BELOW - New interview with Kara]

Kara : How are things with your accomplice?? How is your accomplice?

Tim : She’s a miracle. I never thought that I would experience something like that at my age. And I had sort of come to terms with like maybe being alone or maybe being some kind of casual thing that wasn’t really too demanding and then we met and it all changed! It is the deepest, most fun, most truly intimate relationship I’ve ever had.

Kara : so why do you think that is? What’s different? What makes it like that?

Tim : […] We want someone to see us. And if we get into a place where we allow someone to really see us, everything, and they can look at that and say ‘Ok, ‘I’m okay with this. All this good stuff and all that bad stuff’ then it’s like a profound relief to be able to be your entire self and know that someone is not gonna blame you or try to change you in a way that’s punishing or belittle you for the things that you have that are human flaws; but you know, try to help you and try to encourage you to improve without trying to fix you. So, all that stuff.

Kara : So, there’s something about her that helped you trust that she would do that, be like that with you? Or were you at a time in your life where you were ready to expose yourself in that way?

Tim : All of the above. And, talking about fear, I was terrified because basically she said to me ‘Give it all, give me everything. Tell me the whole story, all the shit, all the stuff you’ve done you’re not proud of, you’re ashamed of, just tell me and I’ll deal with it’. And I was like ‘okay…’ thinking that perhaps I would get annihilated, you know, that I would step on the landmine the was in the mine field or the eggshells that was out there. I took that risk and I laid it all out and she was like ‘okay. Let’s do this’. Wow, you know and… [getting emotional]. It was and has been an amazing thing and feels not punishing at all. And… some of my relationships I’ve felt punished.

Kara : Right, which would make you think that future relationship would as well, because it was your history, it’s what you knew.

[…]

Kara : You and Téa met when you were on ‘Madam Secretary’. I don’t know if you met before that but that’s when you started becoming intimate. That ended like years ago now. How many years has it been?

Tim : Four years, five years, something like that.

Kara : So, it’s interesting that you are great with that situation, and your environment now is totally different; you’re not working together. And has it changed at all? Was it more something then or more something now?

Tim : That’s better. That’s better now. Yeah, you know, it’s funny because I’m pretty sure there were a lot of eyes rolling on set and lots of nervous people going like ‘Oh God, when that blows up it’s gonna be a disaster. Oh, on set romance…’ And we were a little bit before #MeToo so we could have our romance without being so careful about it, and all this stuff, and there was, I’m not sure if it’s actually called this, it’s called a ‘Love contract’ that you were supposed to fill out for CBS saying ‘We are in a relationship, we work together so if things go badly, we’re not gonna bring it to work’ but we never did.

Kara : Oh, you never signed it?

Tim: No, we never signed it and we never brought our shit to work.

Kara : Very good. There’s something going on that you’ve decided, you’ve approached the whole thing in a healthy way it seems like, to me […].

Tim : It’s pretty spectacular.

Kara : I also love the fact that she said ‘Give me all of it?’. Like she literally said that?

Tim : Yeah. It’s funny also, and so surprising for me. I showed up for work one day at Madam Secretary and I opened the door to my dressing room and there were like 25 pairs of high heel shoes and all this lingerie and I was like ‘What’s happening here?’ And Téa is like ‘Why do we have separate dressing rooms? I’ll just be in here.’ And first I was like ‘Wait, my space, etc.’ and I was like ‘No, she wants to be with me so badly that she’s moved her high heels into my room, so I better take this, this is a good thing.’ And her dressing room turned into a place where we would take naps. At lunchtime, we looked like cadavers. We would lie next to each other and just pass out for about 18 to 20 minutes, we got so good at it, and then we could continue on with our day.

[fuedalreesespieces]

ramble-y post incoming:

tldr: is the inukag to izanori pipeline real, and am i falling headfirst into it? yes, yes i am.

[This post does contain spoilers for Kanata Kara and Inuyasha.]

recently (and by that i mean two days ago) i decided i wanted to start a shojo manga that wasn't too long, something I could read in between lectures. i checked some of my saved manga on the website i use, and found one that i had saved purely because i'd been enthralled by the cover art, which looked like this:

(i mean, look at them!!)

...that, and it was 14 volumes, so I thought i could finish it within a week or two, reading a few chapters every day.

i was wrong. i'm on volume ten and it's been a day and a half.

i haven't finished and I'm making this post (partly because i've been rambling about it in ballistic keysmash-consistent twitter posts) to say that Kanata Kara is good. very, very good. damn that one-star review on the site i'm using, because that shit has to be an accidental click. I love the world-building, the diverse cast of characters, and the art is magnificent. I think my favorite thing of all has to be the themes represented so far in the manga, perpetuated by our titular characters noriko and izark. I may make a future post about that when i finish the manga, but there is one thing i noticed while reading that struck me as really interesting: the dynamic between izark and noriko, and the characters themselves, remind me a lot of inuyasha and kagome.

now i'm gonna preface this by saying i'm not trying to say that these are the same dynamics or something, because they aren't - I just want to point out parallels i thought were really interesting, as someone who loves both relationships in their respective mangas. i also want to establish that Kanata Kara predates Inuyasha by three to five years*- so what I really should be saying is that inuyasha and kagome remind me of izark and noriko, but you get the picture. you could argue a number of things with this in mind, but i'm not here to discuss any of that. this isn't meant to be some sort of dumb gotcha; both series are good in their own ways, and some of the similarities i'm highlighting can be attributed to similar tropes being at play!

*(sources vary, some say 1993, others say 1995)

izark/inuyasha

demons - inuyasha is half inu-youkai, whereas izark is the sky demon from a prophecy that makes up much of the manga's internal and external conflict for him. an interesting contrast i found was that while inuyasha's half-demon features are present for the majority of the manga and his human side shows up only a handful of times, it's the exact opposite for izark, whose "human" appearance reigns for the majority of the manga.

both characters were shunned by their respective communities (and humanity at large, though inuyasha had his mother for some time, and izark's mother tried to kill him). when both parents died, they began living on the fringes of society, never interacting with anyone and, according to them, "preferring to be alone."

both share moments where their demon sides take over and they are unable to control themselves - unless, of course, their loved one is present to help them. otherwise, both are trapped in a violent, bloodthirsty state of mind that makes them lose parts of their identity each time transformation is undergone. both try to avoid this part of them out of fear of losing themselves, but when occasions rise where they are in those forms, their respective loved ones pull them out of it/help them ground themselves.

powerful fighters willing to quite literally put everything on the line for their respective loved ones - i'm talking half-dead-dragging their-bodies-across-the floor and thinking "well, at least she's okay."

one interesting difference to me is how izark and inuyasha approach their humanity. izark is constantly shown in his "human" form and is only in his demon form a handful of times, and the exact opposite is true for inuyasha. izark's earlier (brief) plan of doing away with noriko is spurned from his desire to avoid the tragic fate tied with his demonic form, whereas inuyasha's earlier actions are motivated by his desire to become a full demon. izark relates his demon side to inevitability, to the idea that he might just become the monster everyone prophesied him to be; inuyasha (in the beginning) views his humanity with scorn and associates it with weakness. he wants to embrace the possibility of achieving full demon status, and why? is it just because he wants power? in my opinion, no - I think it's a way of finding a place; being free to go where he wants. inuyasha is already powerful in his own right, and even when he's given the opportunity to claim a formidable weapon like his father's sword, he says he has no interest in it (until, of course, kagome mentions he could try to claim it just to spite sesshomaru, and only then is his interest peaked.) inuyasha seeks freedom by assimilating into a full demon identity, izark seeks freedom from that full demon identity, and only then will he feel in control of his life.

kagome/noriko

both from modern era japan and get isekaied into another world - kagome's instance is time-travel, though - noriko is transported to a whole other world with different culture, geography, and language (noriko having to learn the language of the people there and taking part in their customs is one of my favorite things about the manga!!)

the beacon of light in their respective groups/found family, bringing everyone together

key players in a "Prophecy of Doom" - kagome's "destiny" is to continue the cycle of the shikon jewel; noriko's "destiny" is to awaken the Sky Demon (izark). both girls, and their loved ones, change their futures.

damsels? maybe, but never in distress:

and, of course, the most prominent parallel for me: their acceptance of their lovers and the ripple effect that love has on their lovers' relationships and life:

"i'm not leaving you no matter what happens, no matter who you are - I will stay by your side":

"you changed my life for the better":

"i've opened up and become more vulnerable":

there are a ton of other examples i could use for this bullet, since it has a pretty broad spectrum of events that could fall under it, but these are my favorites.

i also want to draw attention to the way noriko deals with feeling powerless - both she and kagome are surrounded by powerful, experienced individuals, but unlike noriko, kagome has a reign on her archery and spiritual skills pretty early on in the manga, so she contributes in battles one way or another. one of noriko's longest internal conflicts is that she feels guilty that she can't do anything to help and that people are getting hurt on her behalf:

i absolutely love the advice given to her, and how it ties into the themes of the manga. noriko feels like she isn't helping, but even a simple thank you helps - even if it's just thanking one person for a single deed, everyone is intricately tied, and that goodwill spreads. it grows. it becomes a part of everyone. you don't have to be a fighter to spread good.

conclusion: the parallels are neat and READ KANATA KARA!

[idontwanttospoiltheparty]

What's ur top five for the mclennon evidence tier

Depends from whose perspective, so I'm dividing them up

(and I feel this demonstrates why I have very different opinions on who had feelings for whom; if someone disagrees they're welcome to argue with me [I like that lol] but it really comes down to what type of evidence I find more convincing)

John

1. His Widow Literally Saying It? You know, THE quote:

From chance remarks he had made, she [Yoko] gathered there had even been a moment when—on the principle that bohemians should try everything— he had contemplated an affair with Paul, but had been deterred by Paul’s immovable heterosexuality. Nor, apparently, was Yoko the only one to have picked up on this. Around Apple, in her hearing, Paul would sometimes be called John’s Princess. She had also once heard a rehearsal tape with John’s voice calling out “Paul … Paul …” in a strangely subservient, pleading way. “I knew there was something going on there,” she remembers. “From his point of view, not from Paul’s. And he was so angry at Paul, I couldn’t help wondering what it was really about.”

2. 1972 Sandra Shevey interview:

I wanna be clear like. THIS is BY FAR the best evidence. I will list more, but nothing else really comes close to the above quote. There is zero interpretation needed (or room to take it as a joke) and it's coming from about as close a source to John as possible.

The only thing ever lacking in working with another artist and they were usually male - whether it was Stuart Sutcliffe (my art school friend) or Paul McCartney (my musical friend) - is that the relationship only goes as far as the front door and after that you are alone in bed. It's a plus not a minus. The plus is that your best friend, also, can hold you without… I mean, I’m not a homosexual, or we could have had a homosexual relationship and maybe that would have satisfied it, with working with other male artists. [faltering] An artist – it’s more – it’s much better to be working with another artist of the same energy, and that’s why there’s always been Beatles or Marx Brothers or men, together. Because it’s alright for them to work together or whatever it is. It’s the same except that we sleep together, you know? I mean, not counting love and all the things on the side, just as a working relationship with her, it has all the benefits of working with another male artist and all the joint inspiration, and then we can hold hands too, right?

3. David Sheff insanity feat. Yoko:

JOHN: Well, that’s rubbish, you know. Because nobody controls me. I’m uncontrollable. The only one that can control me is me, and that’s just barely possible. [Yoko laughs] But that’s what life is about. And that’s the lesson I’m learning. Because – nobody ever said anything about Paul having a spell over me, when I was with him for a long time. Or me having a spell over Paul. They didn’t think that was abnormal, two guys together. JOHN: Or four guys together. In those days? Why didn’t anybody ever say, “How come those guys don’t split up? I mean, what’s going on backstage? I mean, what is that Paul and John business? Why – you know, how can they be together so long?” YOKO: They might have. [laughs]

These next ones are again a tier below. The above three are eyebrow-raising independent of each other, but the below two sort of require the above three to feel like they've got argumentative weight IMO.

4. "It's just handy to fuck your best friend."

5. 1974 self-interview.

The last one is a good example of what I meant here. The self-interview could be much more easily dismissed as a joke if the above points didn't also exist.

Stuff like John marrying Yoko immediately after Paul married Linda is interesting when considering John having feelings for Paul, but I don't think it would constitute evidence in isolation. I think it's important to differentiate events which take on a very specific meaning when you make a (perhaps reasonable) presupposition from things which directly imply said presupposition. I also find the fact that there's an incredibly strong case for John experiencing attraction to men who are not Paul – while not evidence for McLennon per se – significantly increases the likelihood that the above quotes are pointing to real feelings for Paul.

(also notice how none of these are song lyrics lol – songs would almost always fall under that idea of something which might take on a connotation, given biographical context, but can almost never be seen as evidence of something on their own)

Paul

1. That "Maybe if I had been a woman I could have–" quote. I don't have the exact phrasing handy, but you know the one.

2. Generally how defensive Paul has historically been about John's sexuality. This is completely circumstantial, but I agree it's a reasonable reading of Paul's behaviour.

The above two points are by far the biggest arguments for Paul IMO though they are notably not as directly linked to the idea of Paul having feelings for John as my John quotes were (which doesn't mean Paul being in love with John is impossible, of course).

The next stuff doesn't really convince me at all but I still think it's the best:

3. His general reaction to JohnandYoko*

4. Paul going off about John's looks a lot.**

5. I guess lyrics lol. Dear Friend and However Absurd are probably the best ones. Honourable mention to the "I find my love awake" verse of Too Many People.

*I'm actually a fierce believer in the concept that a) JohnandYoko were not a normal couple so this isn't just a simple case of being upset at your bestie getting a partner and it's imo willingly obtuse to act like that's what was happening and b) even then, platonic jealousy is not unheard of. But I certainly recognize that it could be a sexually-driven jealousy.

**Gay men and straight women will fawn over women's looks and talk in much more sexually charged language than Paul about John. Sure, "it's different for straight men", which is why I'll grant it, but just something to think about as well.

The Paul stuff looks a bit half-hearted – because it is, but I did spend a lot of time trying to think of stuff. If you can think of something you personally find more convincing than any of these points, feel free to send it over and I'll tell you how I would "rank it" and why. It's possible I'm forgetting something that deserves to be up there.

Last point, but I actually think it's really important to be able to more or less rank evidence of one's own beliefs. And of beliefs one doesn't hold.

[bisnes-socks]

aikuinen by käärijä, requested by @lhma

okay the first thing i want to talk about is language and i might be getting into super nerdy territory here, so i'm sorry if that's not what you're after but i have to.

because i love the first word of the song, korkeakouluttamattomuudesta, so much.

"korkeakouluttamattomuudesta huolimatta" the first two words are difficult to translate literally, because english just doesn't have these structures. but what these two words mean together is "dispite not having a university level education".

korkeakoulu = a university, or a university level school

koulutus = education

kouluttettu = a person with an education

kouluttamaton = a person without an education

now the first line or bar of the song is "korkeakouluttamattomuudesta huolimatta mä oon hyväntuulinen" meaning i'm good humoured dispite not having a university level education. five words in finnish, right?

the next line is "joku vois kysyy, että oonko mä hullu, voin vastata että oon hullunkurinen" meaning you could ask me if i'm crazy and i'd say i'm just silly. 12 words in that line, in finnish, right?

but the first line of 5 words and the second line of 12 words have almost the same amount of syllables. 22 syllables in the first line, 24 syllables in the second line.

here's a breakdown of the syllables:

kor-ke-a-kou-lut-ta-mat-to-muu-des-ta

huo-li-mat-ta

mä

oon

hy-vän

tuu-li-nen

-> 22 syllables

jo-ku

vois

ky-syy

et-tä

oon-ko

mä

hul-lu

voin

vas-ta-ta

et-tä

oon

hul-lun-ku-ri-nen

-> 24 syllables

these first two bars are just an excellent example of how creatively rap music uses language, and how much skill and sense of rythm it takes to rap and do it well. 5 words versus 12 words, 22 syllables versus 24 syllables, to fill the same amount of time, to be delivered in a way that emphasises the rhymes in hyväntuulinen and hullunkurinen.

the first line he actually raps before the beat even kicks in, so he almost like establishes his own beat with the first bar by emphasising syllables in a very rythmic way. the beat kicks in right after hyväntuulinen, so he is able to really have fun with the beat, with his delivery of "joku vois kysyy että oonko mä hullu", and then he settles back into the established flow.

i just think these two lines are a really neat way to demonstrate the finnish language and how it works, and how he can use it. i also think "korkeakouluttamattomuudesta huolimatta" as the first two words in this particular song is clever. because korkeakouluttamattomuudesta is not an easy word - it has like three suffixes after another, if i'm counting it right. you could say the same thing in a different way, and in fact most people would say it differently in spoken finnish, say the same thing in more words. it's quite a formal word, at the end of the day. it doesn't stand out in this context too much, because it fits the flow so well, but it is a "big word" if you will, so it's almost like he is sarcastically saying that he can use big words even if he doesn't have a fancy education.

the first two lines are also establishing his use of different voices and vocal approaches in this song.

i talked about his way of changing his vocal style in different parts of his songs here, but Aikuinen is an interesting example of much more subtle changes that actually happen over and over again within one verse.

he starts off with quite an even tone, nothing much to notice about the vocal style, other than of course the high and squeaky delivery of "joku vois kysyy että oonko mä hullu" which, i believe, is meant as a sort of a mocking imitation of someone asking him if he is crazy.

but his voice gets gradually.. harder and more purposeful as the verse progresses, and when we get to "oon kondiksessa, sama se vaikka ne mua koettavat hiillostaa" he's quite sharp with his delivery, really emphasising the sentiment that people getting all up in his business is annoying. and then "oon aikuinen ja päätän siitä mikä vittu mua kiinnostaa" he's really underlining how pissed off he is, especially with his delivery of vittu, which of course is a curse word.

and then this same progression happens through the second verse. which i find brilliant, because it's like the song is demonstrating the fact that he is perfectly capable of discussing his life and choices in an "intellectual" way, but he also gets royally pissed off when people want to shove their own opinions about his choices in his face and down his throat. 

the changes in his vocal style are subtle, but they tell the story of the song really well in my opinion.

when i first heard this song, i remember thinking it was a bit silly. but i quickly learned to truly appriciate and respect how honest the song is. there's a saying/phrase in finnish, "puhua asioista niiden oikeilla nimillä", literally translated as to talk about things using their real names. and that's what i really love about the lyrics in this song. he's not beating around the bush, he is saying exactly what he means and how he feels about the pressures of living your life one way, and about not being interested in that way of life - while also simultaniously struggling with how much the world wants you to feel like a failure if you don't succeed in expected ways. i can really relate to what the song talks about, and how you can feel like a failure for not getting into a school or something, even if you're not actually even interested in school at all. it's a super honest song and i love that.

i also love the beat and the musical aspects of the song a lot, so hats off to Allu once again.

ps. in writing this analysis i ended up making like a whole visualisation for myself about the rhyme schemes in the song. should i make a post about his technical rhyme skills? hmmm.

[docholligay]

Shamash answers: Live action, Round 2

The brief was: Overwatch thought, funny

For making me #triggered, 3rd place:

Winston and Lena take a yoga class together on a doctor's recommendation. The doctor said it would help with stress and injury prevention.They both struggle mightly, Winston with adapting the moves to his body, Lena with trying to stay focused in all the quiet. She needs the sharping thrill of a fight or all out sprint to focus, not deep breathing and incense, dammit!

@beefsaladthethirtythird I know that Lena would absolutely hate yoga, and everyone would tell her that yoga would be so good for her, and i know this because IT HAPPENS TO ME AND THEY ARE PROBABLY RIGHT BUT DEATH FIRST. You know what I hate the most? the end part? shivasina? where you just...lay there? You can't make it more difficult or anything it's just five fucking minutes of laying there.

Okay, so, I'm pretty sure I just thought of this answer and didn't actually send it in for another question but I not 100% sure. So! If I have already given this answer, apologies. Anyway! Blizzard actually exists in the Overwatch universe. They make tv shows, specifically, and when they approach OW with the idea of writing a tv, it seems like a good idea. Seems. They're generally pretty solid but the person they put in charge of the show had very specific ideas and also has a lot of pull with the studio so somehow manages to keep getting away with things. It doesn't seem like he fact checks anything. He gets their ages wrong and says something different in different episodes. When called out on it he just says he's done his research and refuses to acknowledge any wrong doing. The only silver lining is that after a while the characters of the show only resemble the real people in the vaguest possible way so OW takes to just mostly ignoring the show. That is, until he pairs has Fareeha start dating Genji, and Angela has to literally hold Fareeha back from killing him. (The lack to research is already so horrendous and fucking Genji?!?! What's even the point of people who won't do research?) Lena, meanwhile, is laughing so hard she's crying. Genji disappears and no one sees him for a month which leads to speculation that Fareeha killed him. (Lena goes on message boards under a pseudonym and proceeds to list increasingly bizarre ways that Fareeha has probably killed him. When he does eventually pop up she starts a conspiracy theory that he's actually a robot Fareeha made to cover her tracks.) The next few weeks are spent with Fareeha verbally flaying anyone and everyone she can find that has power over the show. The show has one of the bad guys kill Genji in response which Genji fans blame on Fareeha. (Lena laughs so hard she cries and adds more absurd death ideas to her post on the message board.) Angela, meanwhile, is calmly sitting in a chair sipping tea because she has chosen to ignore the show entirely, knows little to nothing of it, and until the day she dies the only thing she can tell you is that she's pretty sure Fareeha killed Genji.

@madegeeky Fareeha thinks she would be so chill about any and all uses of media to promote Overwatch, but I doubt she can handle a documentary, not to mention a show made for ENTERTAINMENT, that takes LIBERTIES, meanwhile Lena is buying her action figure and gifting it to her family, who put them in increasingly lurid situations around their houses like some sort of bastard Elf on the Shelf.

First place, for knowing exactly about the vagaries of love and terrible cooking:

Angela can't cook. She knows this. (Everyone knows this.) But when she and Fareeha move in together, the domestic bug hits her hard and she decides to start packing Fareeha's lunches. It's lunch. How hard can it be? Really. She's managed to feed herself for over thirty years. Sure she eats a lot of take-out, or simply forgets to eat, but not ALWAYS. She can do this. "It is not necessary," Fareeha says. "I can eat lunch at the Overwatch headquarters cafeteria. It is no trouble, truly the food there is rather good." (And often she ends up bringing lunch from the cafeteria to Angela, though she doesn't mention this now.) And yet. "I would like to do this for you." Angela responds. "It will make me happy, to treat you like this." What can Fareeha say to that? She acquiesces. The lunches are… not good. At all. But Fareeha eats each one without complaint, and is always sure to show Angela her gratitude. Three weeks in, Tracer (being Tracer) swipes half of Fareeha's sandwich despite her protestations. Tracer takes a big bite. She chews once… twice… and promptly gags. "What the bloody 'ell is THAT?!" Fareeha sighs. Overwatch gossip spreads like wildfire, and this is DEFINITELY getting back to Angela.

@seolh girl, you killed these OW prompts. I have my polls set so I don't see the writers until after I click on the response number--it means I can't give anyone 'a break' or anything, because I don't know who wrote what--so when i clicked on this one to reveal the numebr one place I was so happy for you. This was so funny and I enjoyed it so much.

Bonus one point for bringing up a point I've thought aout writing myself:

Tracer being forced to air travel like a regular person. The documentation for her medical equipment alone is a nightmare.

@vassekocho not just the insane process for her security check, but I imagine if they hit turbulence and stop serving G&Ts or something, she's getting up and going to the back of the plane like, "Oh I'll get meself, it's a 'andful of bumpy clouds what a load of bloody schoolgirls.' The attendants trying to tell her it could be dangerous, Lena, mid-cutting a fresh lime she stole from first class: "THIS??? Could eat a sausage roll and steer with the other 'and, in this"

[becasbelt]

here's a little thing about moving that's definitely not inspired by recent real life events.

* * *

Beca sets the box down with a grunt, straightening and pushing it to fit against the rest of the boxes better with her foot. She has no idea what Amy put in her box literally labelled "bit and bobs" to make it so heavy, but honestly she's too tired of going through boxes at the moment to find out.

Brushing her hands together, Beca surveys what they've done in apartment so far - if the one room studio they were renting could be considered an apartment, that is. She, Amy, and Chloe had spent the better part of the day unloading the U-Haul they'd driven from Barden to New York, and now the sorting through everything part is making Beca long for more trips up the stairs.

She's successfully managed to separate their boxes into different piles throughout the room: three piles for each of their personal belongings and one for the kitchen. Amy's stuff takes up an entire side of the room, while Chloe's modest stash sits nicely in a corner.

Beca's things consist of three boxes, two duffel bags filled with clothes, and a carry-on with her music equipment.

Somehow, after getting rid of any furniture she'd acquired over the last couple of years, Beca had walked out of college with hardly more than she started with.

Beca stares at her small pile and considers how motivated she's feeling. Upon deciding that more unpacking can wait until after dinner, she slumps onto the couch to stare at the wall for a minute or two.

Amy and Chloe had volunteered to make a food run to reward all their hard work. Beca had opted to stay behind, citing the need for some alone time, leaving her all alone to wonder just what the hell they'd all gotten themselves into.

One of their windows doesn't latch properly, creating a draft over the place where Beca and Chloe will sleep. The walls are spotted with stains that Beca isn't sure will ever come out. Their bathroom is literally in the kitchen. There's a strange smell coming from the closet that makes Beca's nose wrinkle every time she opens it.

Beca leans her elbows on her knees, puts her head in her hands, and tries to take a deep breath.

It was fine. Everything was going to be fine. They could clean, they could light a candle, they could come up with a system for dealing with the kitchen-shower.

The traffic is loud outside the window. A far cry from the quiet street the Bellas' House at Barden resided on.

Beca tries for another deep breath, cheeks puffing out as she exhales. She rubs her eyes with the heels of her palms until she sees spots, then blinks to clear them again.

All the uncertainties keep staring back at her.

Beca's fingers curl around her phone. Without thinking too much about it, she scrolls through her contacts until her thumb presses the call button.

The other end rings five times before it's picked up. "Hey, Bec."

The air leaves Beca's lungs in a shaky exhale. "Hey, Dad."

"Is everything alright? How'd the move go?" There's a hint of surprise in his voice, as if he hadn't been expecting to call. Which is fair, honestly.

"No, yeah, everything's good," she says, tucking her arms in close to herself. "Made it in one piece. We just finished unpacking the truck."

"Good. Well that's- that's good, then," her dad says. There's a moment of awkward silence, and it hits Beca just how little she tries to make small talk with her dad like this, even when they lived in the same city.

"Yeah," Beca says dumbly. She tucks her feet onto the couch and hugs them tight to her chest.

"So how's New York?"

"It's... different," Beca replies hesitantly. "Um, good different, I think. But different."

Her dad chuckles. "Yeah, I get that. I felt that way when I moved to Barden. But you'll get used to, just give it a few days. Maybe invest in a white noise machine to cover up the traffic."

Beca huffs a laugh. "Yeah, maybe. If Amy's snoring doesn't cover it up first."

They share another laugh, and Beca feels the tightness in her chest ease ever so slightly.

"Bet you're glad to be out of Barden, though," her dad ventures. "Seems like you always wanted to move to the big city."

"I grew up in Seattle, Dad," Beca says with an eye roll. "It's not like I grew up in the middle of Wyoming."

"Okay, okay," he concedes. "I mean a city where things are happening, right? Like LA: you always wanted to live there. Isn't New York just a grittier, more compact version of LA?"

Beca snorts. "I think there's a few more differences than that, but sure. I guess I see your point."

"So there you go," he says, and Beca can practically see that annoying side smirk he gets on his face whenever he feels like he just won an argument. "You're on the right path, even if it's in a different place than you imagined. And I'm so proud of you for taking that jump, Bec. Even if I wasn't always supportive of it."

A lump forms in Beca's throat and she finds herself blinking against stinging eyes. "Thanks, Dad," she says, voice tight, then clears her throat and shakes her head. "That, uh, that means a lot."

"It's true," he says kindly. There's another lull in the conversation, this one less awkward than before. "You know, it'll be weird not having you ten minutes away anymore. I won't be able to force you into coming over for dinner once a month."

Beca grins a little. "And I don't know what I'll do without you knocking on the our door to ask if I've done my homework every other week," she teases. "But maybe I can be convinced to video call every once in a while."

"That would be nice," her dad replies, and Beca can tell that he really means it. "So, how's the apartment."

"It's small, and it's got some quirks, but it'll do for now," Beca says, looking around the studio again. "There's this weird smell coming from a closet that makes me kind of want to throw up, though."

"Try baking soda," her dad says. "Or coffee grounds. They should absorb the smell. Or you could put a bar of soap in a sock, I've done that before. Or you could try..."

He continues rambling about ways to get rid of bad smells, and Beca smiles while she listens, leaning her head against the back of the couch, and breathes deeper than she has all day.

[itzpookiepooh]

25 Days of the Washingtons: Don’t Think Like That

The group was out in the small town below the mountain. The town was decorated beautifully. Lights were bright giving off that warm feeling. You and Beth were walking with your arms linked as everyone else spread out to try the food.

“It’s beautiful out here.” You say in astonishment. Beth laughs lightly as she looks around the area.

“Yeah it is. We should do this more often.” She suggested making you agree.

Josh and Chris were at a keg stand clinking their pints together before chugging it while Sam and Hannah shook her head at them. Matt and Ashley were having a snowball fight and Emily and Jess weren’t arguing as they usually did. It felt perfect that was until you caught Beth staring at the huge decorated tree.

“You okay?” You ask her as you rub her back softly.

She sighs trying to find what to say. She shook off the feeling before turning to you with a look you couldn’t describe in her eyes. It worried you that your best friend wasn’t all the way there especially on such a beautiful night such as this one.

“Do you think I’ll go somewhere in life? Like off to do some big thing?” She asks looking back at the tree.

“Of course you would, what makes you think you won’t?” Your concern peaking as the conversation continued.

“Josh works with dad…sort of and Hannah is working on being a professional tennis player and here I am…stuck.” She mumbles her last word making you frown.

“Beth you can literally do anything! You’re so talented.” Beth scoffs at you.

“Yeah right. I don’t want to do it because my parents are rich. I want to do it because I’m good at it.” She protested.

“Beth I never said that. I know you’re good at all kinds of different shit.” You counter making her shake her head.

“Beth you got a full ride to Princeton. That’s huge.” You remind her. “That scholarship for forensic science…the thing you’re good at.” You urge on.

“What if I fail? I’m the youngest and my siblings set the standard for my parents. It’s expected of me to do this huge great thing!” She frustratedly claws at her hair.

“Hey, hey. You don’t owe anyone anything! You can only do what you can.” You hold her face and have her focus on you.

“You aren’t Josh. You can’t do what he does. You aren’t Hannah. You can’t do what she does.” She nods sadly, looking at her feet. You lift her head again and stare at her intensely.

“But you’re Beth. You can do this and fuck if no one else has your back…I do!” You exclaim making her nod.

“You swear?” She asks her, voice shaky as she holds onto your wrists.

“Of course. You’re my fucking best friend.” You assure her as you pull her in for a hug.

Josh and Chris walk over confusion clear in their expressions. They look at each other and back at you both before speaking.

“What’s going on?” Josh asks cautiously making Chris laugh nervously.

“Into the Christmas spirit?” Chris asks making you both giggle.

“Yeah you could say that.” You answer before pulling away.

“I got you guys hot chocolate.” You and Beth cheer before high-fiving each other.

The 4 of you sat on a bench talking and letting the cold Christmas air consume you. It was a beautiful night and even with a bump in the road, things ended on a positive note.

Divider: @bernardsbendystraws

Give me time to catch up 💋

Day 2

[self-indulgent-paw-patrol]

hey lary!! since you run so many askblogs for paw patrol, what are your opinons of humanized AU’s of the pups? in your opinion, are they cool or too out of character for you?

and if you do think they’re cool, do you have any headcanons on what the pups would look like?

Hooooo man ahsuahshahsha okay let me see

PERSONALLY I am not a big fan of this kind of AU, but that's probably because I prefer animals to people (I'm not a people hater). Besides I always liked more the way how animals can be so expressive, use a lot of body language and you don't need to guess if they're in a good mood or if they'll try to bite or kick you - they make it evident. I'm absolutely AWFUL to understand human body language or social cues, it got me in so much deep trouble several times I literally avoid staying around a bunch of my relatives because of that - and that's because I love them, imagine how it would go if I disliked or hated them???

Also I tend to gravitate towards animals the most because they're sincere and won't lie to you on how they feel. And about cartoons/movies/etc, animals usually represent fantasy, a fantastic different world, another point of view I live for and love to explore. They're an escape for my mind to take a break from our chaotic real world and just... Go back to our roots, y'know? All those jokes like "When I was a child my only worries were my school grades, what we would have for dessert and to finish homework in time for watching my favorite cartoons on TV, I was happy and I didn't know it", like now I have too many "adult worries" such as monthly bills expiring, being unemployed, spending hours at the supermarket doing maths to buy the most I can with little money... Being a freelancer artist is hard as hell, I can barely make a living for my parents and little brother and my pets (I've gone hungry to bed several times before bc I spent my last savings on cat food instead of dinner for myself, also my cat and dog share the cat food bc dog food is more expensive and thank God they eat the cheapest kibble just fine). Right now it's been three weeks I'm staying at my friend Pablo's home to recover from a crisis of malnutrition. I am literally here to be properly fed and regain weight and strength. I think I can go back home next week.

So, sometimes I just... Don't want to worry. And then I go for animals. Their only worries are when I'll feed them, if we can play together now or in five minutes, and if I'll sleep next to them in the living room that night or not (they can't sleep in the bedroom XD). Their life is so much more simple and I like that kind of simplicity.

Also I draw animals better than humans too LOL (even if my mom will disagree with me on that, she says my humans are just as good nowadays)

With all that being said, I also find humanized AUs interesting in their own way when they're well written. Sometimes it's hard to adapt things, a lot of stuff that works with animals won't work with humans just as well or will be viewed as weird. I like to come up with furry AUs sometimes, they're sort of humanized, but still retaining their animal traits. But when people do their research, pour their love and soul in it, work on the little things to make it all click together, a nice carefully written human AU will appeal to me almost as much as the original source any day.

As for appearance headcanons? Oh well XD I'm not sure I can answer that so quickly - I like to take my time and do a lot of research, try sketching stuff to see if it works well or not... I'll owe you the answer for now, alright? I'll show up someday with another post listing my headcanons for a human AU on the pups.

After I do the same for a furry AU, as a warm up XD

[angelicsjn]

welcome to the family joshuaaa! Also with all these talks of promiscuous reader (luv u for that babe) can we get the ocs with a reader who tries to smash and pass them the next morning? Like she treats them like a hookup? Thank youuu 💕

YOUR SEVEN YANDERES.

— ROMAN CORNELIUS JAMES BEAUREGARD.

Roman wouldn't really care. He's the one yandere that would actually be your fuck buddy and treats the visits like a smash and dash, so if you acted that way, he'd simply return the favour.

If slowly over time he grows more attached to you, if those yandere tendencies build up, he will begin to view the sexual relationship differently.

He'd grow jealous and pretty much talk you into staying while still masking his emotions. He wants you to stay, but not because he loves you. Totally not that...

— LATEN REED.

Laten is honestly used to people like that. It's actually sad.

His whole life, he's been treated like some sort of doll. Fun until they throw him aside for something else.

So he wouldn't really even think any different than usual — even if he does stalk you, he sees it as 'at least I have some part of them'.

He will try. He will make an effort to make you stay. To see you on public in a none sexual setting to get close to you in other ways, and if that doesn't work he'll give up and continue the way you like it.

He'll just hope you'll change your mind and sit with him during breaks and make the effort he once did for you.

— JAE 'NIKO' LEE.

Due to his need for a secret life from being an idol, he loves the idea of a non-serious fuck buddy. His life restricts him from anything serious, so a quick fix is the next best thing.

As he grows comfortable in your presence, the more controlling he will become, its slow. So slow you don't even notice it.

You'll stay back for a bit longer. Usually, you leave pretty much right after. Then you're on his bed for extra time sharing food and speaking about next day plans.

He loves your sexual nature, the fun of it. Even though he's slowly setting his chains on you, he gives you fun elsewhere.

Doing things that are daring, in the back of dimly lit clubs, in the dressing room before a performance. You name it.

— KAIDAN ALEXANDER WOLFE.

Since our Kaidan is a certified delusional.

He doesn't even notice the truth. He truly believes you love him even after you leave right after.

You say 'I love you' as you reach the peak? He will play that in his head for a month straight and obsess over the fact you said it.

If you notice how delusional he is, you can even use it to your advantage.. to play with him.

He's so obsessed and stupid he would do literally anything and you can turn him into your bitch like its nothing. Sometimes you don't even need to touch him.

— HAYDEN WEST.

Poor baby. He's not built for this treatment.

He's the perfect person to 'use', he's shy. Sweet. Like a puppy, and if you hold the leash, he will follow you. Even if it upsets him.

He hates feeling used. He hates seeing you leave. He hates how you never look at him and how you've only let him kiss you once.

He wants more. He needs it.

After a while, he will break down and pretty much beg for something more, even if it's only small. Five more minutes with you. For you to stay the night sometimes.

Your reaction is up to you, though...

— JOSHUA WHITE.

The possibility of this with Joshua is very slim.

Even while obsessed, God is #1.

He's a 'only if I know you, trust you, and love you' type of person.

So I don't think he'd ever become a smash and dash victim, unless you try REALLY hard to make him like you, make him trust you, all just for a fuck.

You'd need to fake it, manipulate this man, and if you succeed and leave soon after..

This poor baby will internalise it. Wasn't he good enough? It was his first time, he knows he wouldn't be the best. But was he that bad?

— BLAKE CROSS.

Blake doesn't care about stuff like that. He's used to those types of dynamics because it makes his life easier — no attachments.

But, over time, he does grow connected, obviously. Actually, he becomes obsessed. He also becomes possessive.

You can smash and dash him any time, as long as it's only him that you're fucking with.

He starts to make more effort, having food, maybe going out some places together. He shows a different side to him, and it's weird to see him wearing clothes, really.

[itsdeathofabachelor]

Remember the post I made about Jotaro being the same level of fucked up as Kakyoin but in different ways? I think I need to give examples because I have a very distinct thing in my brain I need all of you people to grasp to some extent here.

Jotaro is fucking huge. Ginormous for no reason considering he very likely hadn’t had the time to work out in between beating the shit out of local gang members, dashing and dining, and being a bitch to his mother. But because he hasn’t really been in a setting with a bunch of people with similar physiques as him, he has no idea how to act outside of being ‘cool’. Like, he sees no point in flaunting how he looks so he doesn’t, unlike with someone who, say, worked at their body image for months.

So I am being dead serious when I say Holly didn’t make him a school lunch one time (she had such a bad flu bug she couldn’t get out of bed) Jotaro skips all of his classes, entire day ruined. He goes out to the convenience store, red faced, puffy eyed, and shoves a packet of donuts down his shirt. No one even fucking notices. He eats all of them and cries, it’s so fucking funny.

I should probably mention, Kakyoin is one hundred percent the only one who Jotaro could give less of a shit seeing him do this. So he’s there, gingerly explaining the breeding cycles of salmon and trout in hopes of engaging Jotaro’s autism enough so he doesn’t choke and fucking die around the three donuts he shoved in his mouth.

So, six foot five, bulging muscles, could pop a can of tomatoes open if he put it in between his thighs and squeezed slightly, having a breakdown under a tree somewhere in a national park, defeated. A red haired, twitchy twunk drawing with a stick in the ground saying some shit like, ‘you can tell it’s a type of mammal because of its fin bones, even if it’s exclusively in the water now— please slow down Jojo I really don’t want you to throw up again’.

No, like, he’s a mess all the time but would rather die than be around literally anyone when he has that ‘calm before the storm’ meltdown feeling. So he just sort of shows up at Kakyoin’s doorstep like a stray and lays on his bedroom floor for three hours. Sometimes he falls asleep and Kakyoin uses him as a backrest because he always chooses to be face first directly in front of his Atari and Kakyoin wants to play his games.

Kakyoin’s mother one hundred percent thinks Jotaro is some dangerous delinquent who is going to put her son into a grave, life or death peer pressure situation until she sees Jotaro being dragged out of the house by his ankles with an out of breath Kakyoin carting both their bags under one arm, Jotaro’s coat over one shoulder, and Jotaro’s foot in both his hands. Like, ‘We have a math test. I need good grades. I am not explaining to Miss Holly why you have to retake highschool’.

And Jotaro’s completely limp, like three hundred fucking pounds of pure muscle, wearing a tank top, face down with his hat brim dragging on the floor. He looks fucking dead. He looks like a dead fucking rat. And Kakyoin’s mother no longer has nearly as many worries about Jotaro but also is forever cursed with the knowledge that, even if she were to gossip to her book club about it, they would never believe her.

Also, she’s seen Jotaro cry three separate times on the kitchen floor as Kakyoin makes his grilled cheese in the shapes of dolphins because his favourite cereal changed their packaging or Sadao calls and he’s just losing it in a puddle of tears. He never mentions it again and literally goes back to normal like nothing had happened.

He could beat the shit out of a whole biker gang, spear and set their leader on fire, all stoic and angry and totally badass. Everything falls into place with perfectly timed catchphrases and comebacks, but he’ll still be at Kakyoin’s house, twenty minutes later, face down infront of his Atari. And Kakyoin will use him as a back rest to play his games.