#i’m cringe and it’s okay I’m cringe and it’s okay I’m cringe and it-

[iamtired10]

what the hell is love anyway!?

synopsis: love is supposed to suck, but damn, she’s making it look good. the things you used to hate? she does them all—and somehow, you’re okay with it.

pairing: pham hanni x female reader

genre: fluffyyy, slow acceptance of feelings

word count: 1.7k

warning: reader’s anti-romantic philosophy, no-touch boundaries, kisses... idk man.

a/n: birthday gift for u gaysss (no for me)

y'all are so lucky i love you guys bc i literally skipped paying attention to my crush's debate rounds to write this. everyone was watching in the auditorium and there i was focused on this instead (btw my crush won the debate 😫)

you always thought love was a scam—a packaged lie wrapped in clichés and false promises.

people called it magical, but to you, it was just a hassle. all that hand-holding, constant texting, and clinging to each other’s personal space?

gross.

you’d made peace with being alone.

then pham hanni came along.

it wasn’t like you fell for her overnight.

it started with the small things.

her goofy smile, the way she made everyone laugh, how her voice softened when she spoke to you.

she was the type of person who could win over a room with a single joke, and while you weren’t the type to be easily charmed, something about her stuck in your mind like a catchy song.

but liking her didn’t mean you’d signed up for the full “love” package.

or so you thought.

spamming messages

at first, it was cute.

hanni would send you random texts during the day:

“have you eaten?”

“look at this dog i saw today!”

“I MISS YOUUUUUUUUU!!!!”

“where are you? :3”

“let's meet plsssss”

you didn’t mind the occasional check-in or funny meme.

but then it escalated.

your phone buzzed relentlessly during class, notifications piling up like an avalanche.

p.hn

what are you doing?

are you ignoring me??

i bet you’re doing something boring without me

y/n i’m going to cry if you don’t answer

answer me plsss

im dying without your attention...

ok fine

ignore me all you want

bye?

bye????

BYEEE!!!

:(((((

you used to hate it when people bombarded your phone. you had once ghosted a friend for triple texting.

but with hanni?

you sighed, typed out a response, and felt strangely warm when she replied immediately with a heart emoji.

hand-holding

physical touch wasn’t your thing.

the idea of holding someone’s hand always made you cringe—clammy palms and awkward positioning?

no, thanks.

but hanni had a way of breaking down your walls without even trying.

the first time she grabbed your hand, it was instinctive. you were crossing a busy street, and she reached for you, her fingers slipping between yours like it was the most natural thing in the world.

your first reaction was to pull away.

but when you glanced at her, her brows furrowed in focus as she guided you across, your protests caught in your throat.

by the time you were safely on the other side, she hadn’t let go.

“you okay?” she asked, smiling up at you like it wasn’t a big deal.

you nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat.

the weirdest part? you didn’t hate it.

hugs

you had a strict “no hugs” policy.

friends knew better than to even attempt it.

but hanni was a serial hugger.

she didn’t just hug; she wrapped herself around you like a blanket, her chin resting on your shoulder as if she belonged there.

at first, you stiffened every time she came near, your brain screaming, why is she touching me?

but one day, after a long, awful day, she hugged you without warning.

her arms were warm, her scent comforting, and instead of pushing her away, you found yourself melting into her embrace.

“feel better?” she asked softly.

you couldn’t bring yourself to admit it, but yeah, you did.

late-night calls

you hated phone calls.

they felt intrusive, unnecessary, and way too intimate.

so when hanni called you at 1 a.m., your first instinct was to ignore it.

but then you thought about her pouting on the other end, and before you knew it, you were swiping to answer.

“what?” you mumbled, already regretting it.

“i couldn’t sleep,” she said, her voice soft and a little raspy. “wanted to hear your voice.”

you groaned, but your heart betrayed you, skipping a beat at her words. “it’s the middle of the night, hanni.”

“i know,” she whispered. “but you sound cute when you’re annoyed.”

despite your best efforts, a small smile crept onto your face. damn her and her stupid charm.

kisses

kisses were overrated.

sloppy, awkward, and unnecessary—at least, that’s what you used to think.

but hanni had a way of making even the most mundane things magical. the first time she kissed you, it wasn’t planned.

she was rambling about something, her eyes bright with excitement, and before you could think, she leaned in and pressed her lips to yours.

it wasn’t dramatic or earth-shattering.

it was soft, sweet, and over too quickly.

when she pulled back, she looked at you nervously, biting her lip. “was that okay?”

you stared at her, heart pounding. “it was fine. . .”

fine was an understatement.

cuddles

cuddling was the ultimate invasion of personal space. you couldn’t understand why people willingly turned themselves into human pretzels just to feel close to someone.

but her?

she didn’t ask.

she just flopped onto you one afternoon, her head resting on your chest as she scrolled through her phone.

“what are you doing?” you asked.

“getting comfortable,” she replied nonchalantly.

you wanted to push her off, but her warmth seeped into you, relaxing muscles you hadn’t even realized were tense.

“fine,” you muttered. “but don’t move too much.”

she grinned, nuzzling closer. “i love you too.”

nicknames

you weren’t big on nicknames either.

they felt unnecessary and a little too mushy for your taste.

but she was relentless.

“baby,” she cooed one morning, poking your cheek as you sat groggily at the table. “what do you want for breakfast?”

you froze, blinking at her. “did you just call me... baby?”

“yeah. why?” she tilted her head innocently, like she hadn’t just thrown your entire morning into chaos.

“don’t.” you tried to sound stern, but the heat creeping up your neck betrayed you.

“okay, love.” She grinned, clearly enjoying herself.

“stop.”

“alright, sweetheart.”

you groaned, burying your face in your hands. “you’re... a-annoying...”

“and you love me for it,” she teased, planting a kiss on your temple.

and she was right.

watching a movie

movie nights with hanni were… an experience.

you’d always prided yourself on being someone who actually watched movies—no talking, no distractions, just pure focus.

but hanni? she was the complete opposite.

“wait, who’s that?” she asked five minutes in, pointing at the screen.

“that’s the main character,” you replied patiently.

“right, right.”

another ten minutes passed. “why is she crying?”

you sighed, pausing the movie. “hanni, if you’d been watching—”

“i was! kind of.” She pouted, tugging on your sleeve. “sorry, baby. keep playing it, please.”

you rolled your eyes, but when she cuddled into your side, resting her head on your shoulder, you let it slide.

by the end of the movie, she’d fallen asleep, her soft snores filling the room. you looked at her, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

yeah, you couldn’t stay mad at her.

stealing your hoodies

your wardrobe was sacred.

you hated it when people borrowed your clothes without asking.

but then there was hanni, strutting around in your favorite hoodie like she owned it.

“is that mine?” you asked, narrowing your eyes.

she looked down, feigning innocence. “oh, this? it was just sitting there, so…”

you opened your mouth to protest, but then she turned to face you, the oversized hoodie making her look impossibly small and adorable.

“you... can have it,” you muttered, averting your gaze.

her grin was victorious. “i know.”

early mornings

you weren’t a morning person.

waking up early was your personal hell, and you avoided it at all costs.

but hanni had a habit of waking up before the sun and dragging you along for the ride.

“y/n, wake up!” she whispered excitedly, shaking you gently.

“go away,” you mumbled, pulling the blanket over your head.

“but i made coffee,” she said, her tone teasing. “and pancakes.”

your stomach growled, betraying you. you groaned, sitting up reluctantly.

she smiled triumphantly, handing you a mug. “see? mornings aren’t so bad.”

you sighed, glaring at her over the rim. “they are. you’re just annoying.”

“i love you too,” she shot back, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek before skipping away.

singing randomly

you weren’t a fan of noise, especially when you were trying to focus.

but hanni was a walking jukebox, always humming or breaking into song at the most random moments.

“can you stop?” you’d grumble, trying to concentrate on your work.

“stop what?” she’d reply innocently, twirling around the room as she belted out a love song.

you’d glare at her, but deep down, you couldn’t help smiling.

especially when she changed the lyrics to include your name.

poking your cheeks

hanni had an odd obsession with your cheeks. she’d poke them at every opportunity, claiming they were “too squishy to resist.”

“do you mind?” you snapped one day, swatting her hand away.

“not at all,” she replied cheerfully, poking you again.

you huffed, but when she giggled and kissed the spot she’d just poked, you let it slide.

showing up unannounced

you liked your alone time, and you hated surprises.

so when hanni started showing up at your place unannounced, you were less than thrilled.

“don’t you ever knock?” you asked as she waltzed into your living room.

“why would i? it’s me,” she replied, flopping onto your couch like she owned the place.

you rolled your eyes, but the truth was, you didn’t really mind.

because with Hanni, even the things you used to hate felt… okay.

personal space

you were a fortress, a private island, a lone wolf.

but pham hanni was a storm, relentless and impossible to ignore.

she broke through your defenses without even trying.

she sat too close, invaded your bubble, and left her things scattered around your space like she belonged there.

and you let her.

because somewhere along the way, you stopped seeing it as an intrusion and started seeing it as her way of showing she cared.

by the time you realized how much she’d changed you, it was too late. she’d already wormed her way into every corner of your life, breaking down every wall you’d carefully built.

and honestly? you didn’t hate it.

as she sat beside you one night, her head resting on your shoulder and her fingers playing with yours, you finally admitted it to yourself.

you didn’t just like her.

you loved her.

hanni glanced up at you, her eyes sparkling. “what’s on your mind?”

“nothing,” you replied, squeezing her hand. “just you.”

and for the first time, that didn’t scare you.

a/n: i promised myself i wouldn't write anything this month so i could focus on studying, but i missed writing too much

now i feel like i suck even more than before :'D

[hellincarnation]

Hello! This is a message to the anon who has been sending very haphazard, messy and increasingly nonsensical hate. They are pretty ew.

Not sure if cringe anon is the same as this one, but if you are, here’s a quick thingy. Sure, I’ve played with your message, adding humour as a lovely way of mockery to you. But there is a line to be drawn, I’m fine with you making snarky comments. I make snarky comments, but I draw the line when you start insulting whole groups of race. And….insulting us with the most generic types of comments.

Seriously?

That is the most ridiculous pseudo hate ever.

I’ll remind you that the term “asians” include Chinese, Korean, Japanese, Thai, Viet, Malaysian, Singaporean, Filipino, Indonesian, Saudi Arabian, Indian, Bhutanese, Pakistani, Lebanese and so many more groups of people.

You’re gonna have to be the most dumb, blind and ignorant piece of filth if you think all of those groups of people look the same. If you really believe that, you’re bigoted and ill informed.

Also. OF COURSE SOME GROUPS OF PEOPLE WHO HAVE A COMMON ANCESTOR LOOK THE SAME, OH MY GOD THE STUPIDITY!

And if you are part of Asia and you’re gonna whine like “I was just making a joke!” This is not a joke if it hurts people, yes this is a popularised statement but to many people, it is not funny. It is only a joke when EVERYONE is laughing. So shut up about that.

And then here

….that’s just so wrong.

First of all, I’m ethnically Chinese, which means my great grandparents originally came from china. I was not born on the mainland, nor was my parents, nor was my grandparents. And where I am currently living, consumption of dog meat is illegal. Even in China, the amount of dog meat consumption is drastically decreasing.

That is an old, outdated, stereotypical, insulting way to refer to Chinese people. Not only that!

You also might refer to people from Cambodia, India, Indonesia, Ghana, Laos, Vietnam, Nigeria and Switzerland. Unless you’re saying I’m from all of those countries, your statements makes no fucking sense.

I’ll wrap it up, in the end, I may laugh, joke around, make fun of such comments, but I draw the line when it could potentially hurt bigger groups of people.

My blog is a place to talk to my friends, I’ve made many good ones here, Mireya, Zahrawr, Tanaka, Jeah, Riyana, God, Tamanna, Etc

To all of you, I’m very grateful for getting to meet you.

To this Anonymous person: if you come out and say “oh it’s just a joke” or reveal that you are Asian too, shame on you. Out of all people, you should know how bigoted and disgusting those statements are. If you aren’t asian, even worse. You’re a stupid, ignorant and pathetic piece of shit who thinks it’s okay to send these types of messages. You disgust me.

Moving on, I will not tolerate any more of these types of posts, I will be deleting them on sight. I won’t be turning off anon, since there are lovely anons who like to send nice messages. But I will not be posting anymore of these stupid, idiotic and hateful comments, especially that could potentially hurt a large number of people.

Fuck off, leave all these people alone, leave me alone, this is not a joke, it’s not okay to be spout this bullshit so freely.

Update: I’ve blocked anon ;)))

If this turns out to be anyone I’ve tagged, I will be very very disappointed in you.

@jeahreading @tamanna-and-her-struggles @shinchansbitch @im-on-crack-send-help @iamgayforyourmom1510 @mentallyunstablequeen101 @momhwa117 @zeherili-ankhein @your-dazzling-sun @schrodinger-ka-billa @abyssmita @cafffeineconnoisseur @byproduct-of-hades @lotuseaterwhowistlesthedark @mireyaaaaaaaaa @circe-butbetter @mi-stress-of-chaos @lyrebirb @depressed-bi-twerking @hershey-not-the-chocolate-maybe @lesbianpoetess @unhinged-as-hell @debacleofdaemons @sunshinerainbowsandlollipops @celesteablack @evry1h8s-me @transienctly-translucent @priimadonnna

[littlestarbigsky]

i made this post a few days ago and it’s just been lingering in my head for a while (plus y’all seemed to vibe with it lol), i could talk about ponyboy with water trauma foreverrrr

it’s kinda short but here’s soda washing pony’s hair for him post canon :)

darry set the basket of towels fresh from the dryer on the kitchen table and looked over at soda, who was setting his shampoo and conditioner on the side of the sink.

“where do you want these?” he asked, and soda looked over.

“oh, don’t worry about it, i’ll put them out, thanks, darry.”

darry nodded and busied himself with folding another basket of laundry in the living room. he wanted to be close by in case things went south, and they definitely could if soda wasn’t careful.

soda laid a few of the towels out on the cleared-off kitchen counter, rolling one up and placing it next to the sink and setting another by the shampoo to use for drying when they were finished.

“hey, pony, we’re all ready in here!” soda called, no notes of impatience in his voice, just passing along the message.

after a few minutes, pony sidled out of their room, wrapped up in one of his favorite hoodies. it had once belonged to darry and could swallow the kid whole, but he’d been wearing it nonstop since he’d been back home.

“you ready, kiddo?” soda asked, and pony only shrugged. soda smiled playfully, trying to keep things as lighthearted as they could get, “alright, then step on up. maybe take off that sweatshirt, i’ll get you a towel for your shoulders.”

pony hesitantly pulled the sweatshirt over his head and threw it into the basket with the towels, taking the towel soda handed him.

“want the water warm or cold?” soda asked gently, turning on the sink and checking the temperature with his hand.

the three of them had always gone back and forth with taking cold showers, darry insisted it helped him feel more productive and also helped with all of his muscle tension. soda had done it once and decided he would never do it again, but pony would get in the habit during track season, and had been doing it more often since he’d come home.

“warm,” pony answered quickly. “just not hot…”

“you got it,” soda smiled. “in that case, i think we’re ready, c’mon over.”

pony walked over to the counter and hopped up, laying his head back against the makeshift pillow soda had made with one of the towels. he took a few steadying breaths, listening to the water running. he looked up at the sun catcher in the kitchen window that their mother had painted. he could smell darry’s aftershave on the towel around his shoulders. he took a moment to check in with what was happening in his body; unclench his jaw, stop biting his cheek, keep his breathing as steady as it could be.

soda started slowly by wetting his hands and running them through his hair. he was so careful, taking care to keep the water off of pony’s face and out of his ears, not missing the tension in his shoulders or the stony look in his eyes.

“let me know if you need to stop, okay?”

“i know.”

he squirted some shampoo into his hands and started to work it into ponyboy’s mangled hair. he tried as hard as he could to be gentle, but it was so tangled from not being washed for so long and there was so much grease to work through, compounded over two weeks of improper care.

it was heartbreaking work. it made soda’s heart ache knowing how badly ponyboy had to be feeling if he couldn’t take care of his hair. of course, it wasn’t the same hair he had left home with. it was dried out and chopped awkwardly, soda still felt a little shocked every time he saw pony out of the corner of his eye.

pony flinched when soda worked out an especially tough knot, and soda frowned, “sorry, kiddo, i’m almost done.”

he rinsed out the shampoo as quickly as he could, giving the same treatment with the conditioner.

he couldn’t help but cringe at how botched johnny’s bleach job had really been, some patches a perfect platinum blond and some a bright yellow. pony had called it a halloween costume he was stuck in.

soda’s stomach gave an uncomfortable lurch as he carded his hands through pony’s dried out ends and saw pieces of his auburn-brown roots starting to come in. it made him feel strangely at peace with the whole thing. their whole world had stopped, or at least it seemed that way, and yet ponyboy’s hair still grew. the world still spun, and with each passing day, the weight of what had happened to them felt less heavy. one day his hair would grow out and maybe he would let them cut it, maybe he would let that part of his pain go.

they were in no rush, they would let it take all the time he needed it to, but it was comforting all the same to know that with every passing day, with every breath, they were getting close to things feeling better. one day closer to the reality of all of their pain not being so fresh.

soda finished up rinsing out the conditioner, shut the water off, and grabbed the towel from the other side of the sink, wringing out the water from pony’s hair. he sat his little brother up on the counter, drying his hair as gently as he could.

he grabbed pony’s face in his hands when he had finished, holding his gaze, “you alright, honey?”

pony swallowed thickly and nodded, “can i have my hoodie?”

soda gave a tight-lipped smile, “of course. do you wanna go sit with darry?”

pony nodded again, shrugging the towel off his shoulders and hopping off the counter. soda handed him the hoodie, warm from the towels, and pony clumsily pulled it over his head, quickly pulling the hood off his wet hair. soda cleaned up the excess water from around the sink as pony dragged his feet over to the couch and flopped down next to darry, his knees tucked into his stomach and his head comfortably laid back against darry’s chest.

darry threw an arm over pony’s shoulders and pulled him into his side, resting his cheek on the top of pony’s head. soda came over after cleaning everything up and piled in next to pony, effectively crushing their baby brother between them.

“you feel better now that that hair is clean?” darry asked, messing it up a little for good measure.

“mhm,” pony nodded, sinking down into the couch and almost burying himself in the material of the hoodie.

“good, can we get you anything?” soda asked.

pony shook his head, “‘m tired.”

“okay,” soda leaned over towards the coffee table and turned the radio down before snuggling back in with his brothers. “you can rest, baby, we’re right here.”

[yourloveaton]

After realization, I might scrap out my second initial plan (3 part plot) and just go back to my first idea..? (2 part plot)

The 3 part plot involves multiverse and I’m very afraid that I will REALLY BUTCHER IT UP and I’m afraid to make a new character for the au like 😭😭

Okay nvm guys my friend convinced me to embrace my cringe so…

I’m very sorry if the plot ends up being cringe or cliche even I hope u guys will still like Trickster and the others… HSHAHAJSHJSHAHAHAHAHDJD

[arminhug]

lame first dates || armin arlert x reader

read it on ao3 here!

synopsis: on a warm spring day outside, your close friend armin tells you his ideal first date. if only it could be you on that date…

notes: gn! reader, friends to lovers, one-shot, mad fluff, loosely implied college! au if you really squint, armin and reader being bookworms, just some cute friends to lovers with a healthy dose of awkwardness, also you're vegetarian in this bc i couldn't think of another way to make cooking for someone more awkward, but this is only alluded to once

song rec: bleached by video days

。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫

“That’s lame!”

He blinks at me, doe eyes wide and brows furrowed in almost comical confusion. Blinks again. Pushes his hands back into the plush grass. “How is it lame?” he inquires.

“Why did you agree to get coffee as a first date if caffeine makes you anxious? God, as if first dates aren’t already stressful enough!”

“Look, okay!” Armin is grinning, and I breathe out in relief, knowing I have not actually upset him. His animate face is bridled by the April sunshine, and I am struggling to take my eyes off him. Oh God, am I staring? I hope I’m not staring. “They were really pretty. I mean, out of my league pretty. I was in no position to start negotiating.”

“Why not? There’s nothing wrong with both having input in a first date. If anything it’s telling.”

“How?”

“If they get angry at you for negotiating the date, that’s a red flag.” I say definitively.

“Well, that’s you,” Armin emphasises, lying back into the grass. His left hand rests lazily against his button nose to shield out the clear sky. “You’re more assertive than me. I was just thrilled they actually wanted to go on a date me.”

“So where did that go?” I ask tentatively.

“It didn’t work out. We went on a few dates, but they told me it just wasn’t clicking. That’s fair enough, I guess, but I still felt… bad. Like I obviously wasn’t good enough for them. Why would I be?” he turns to me, pursing his lips. “Sorry, I know I’m being a little melodramatic.”

“No, I get it. I mean, you definitely are good enough. But you’re always gonna feel shitty after being rejected.”

“Yeah.”

“So, when was this? I don’t remember you seeing somebody.”

“Start of the year. But it was a few dates, not a wedding plan. I just don’t feel the need to broadcast if I’m going on a couple of dates to the entire group. Unless they ask, of course.”

“Well,” I start, meeting his eyes with a smile. “I was expecting at least a little change in behaviour, surely? Maybe a spring in the step, a little bit more energy, high on life and love and all that jazz?” I enunciate with a flair of my hands.

“Not really. Maybe that was telling that there was nothing there. After all, the dates were all standard… kind of awkward at times, but like I said, I was grateful somebody that pretty desired me.”

I’m trying not to cringe at how much he is saying this person is attractive. Seriously Armin, I get it. They were a god of aesthetic desire, no need to rub it in. Change the subject, I tell myself, teeth on my bottom lip. “Define standard dates.” I state.

“Oh, you know… dinner, a movie, coffee shops. I like the time I spend to be more imaginative and personal.”

“So what’s an imaginative date, then? What’s the ideal first date for you?”

Armin groans emphatically, shaking his head. “If you think coffee shop is lame, you are going to hate my ideal first date.”

“Bet I won’t,” I shoot back, leaning forward.

“Well,” he starts, then immediately rolls over, hiding his face with a groan, which is so cute it makes me want to burst. “You are seriously going to think I’m so lame!”

“I could never think you are lame, Arlert! I only thought the idea of you going to spike your anxiety levels on a generally very anxiety inducing conquest was lame, that’s all. Tell me!” I emphasise the last two words with a tentative shake of his shoulder, a feather light touch, hoping the contact will get him to open up.

“Fine! My ideal date is a day like this. Sometimes I imagine it at the beach, but we live nowhere near one, and they’d be busy anyway. I want a quiet spot in nature, somewhere me and my date can be alone–”

“Ooh, you’re gonna get freaky!” I jibe.

“Not like that!” his head shoots up, and as I suspected, his cheeks are already slightly flushed. Although I tease him about it, I find how easily he goes red to be one of his sweetest quirks. “I just want somewhere we– my date and I– would have some quiet.”

“Interesting, so we’d– you’d find somewhere like this,” I motion to the undisturbed corner of grass we have secured on the green, where fronds of tallgrass and milkweed encircle our undisturbed patch of greenery against young trees. The picnic bench, heavy with peeling green paint and student graffiti dating back years, is unused by us as we opt for the floor to vantage the serene lake. “Why do you need quiet?” I continue, genuinely wanting to know more.

“Well, yeah, here would be an ideal location. It’d just be nice to have the solitude, I guess. Plus, I’d bring a picnic–”

“Oh my God!”

Armin buries his face once more. “See? I knew you’d think it’s lame!”

“No, no! That’s so cute! I would never forget it if somebody made me a picnic,” I sigh dreamily, lying down next to him with just enough space between us for it to not seem flirtatious. As much as I want to flirt, to let him know how lovely I find him, I can never quite gauge if it would be reciprocated. He’s currently one of my closest friends; if he’s not willing to take it any further, I would rather let the feelings die, albeit painfully, on their own, and resume our friendship, rather than make him uncomfortable. The trouble is, Armin is painfully shy. If there is anything between us, he does a great job of hiding it, and judging by the recounts of people always asking him out, I wonder if he would ever make a move on me even if he did feel the same way.

“So nobody’s ever made you a picnic? I find that hard to believe.” he mumbles, peeking one eye towards me behind messy tufts of honey blonde hair and daisies.

“No, they have not!” I state dramatically, crossing my arms. “I got cooked dinner once, but they made it with meat. I literally told them I didn’t… hang on, what do you mean it’s hard to believe? Am I royalty who deserves picnics made for them on every date I go on?” A beat passes from my inquiry, and my heart skips. While only meaning it as a joke, I am more curious than ever to know what he is thinking right now.

“I just find it surprising that someone like you… I mean, it’s just weird. I thought you would have been taken on a lot of lovely dates.”

“Not really, actually. There’s been some nice ones, but none that I’ll remember for the rest of my life. Anyway, enough about my dates, I want to hear more about this ideal picnic first date!”

“Okay, so I’d prepare a picnic. Nothing too extravagant, just some berries, sandwiches. Maybe I’d make some cookies, or maybe ask if there’s anything they’d like to bring along. Before we arrived, I’d ask them to bring their favourite book, and I’d bring mine. Then, after we got comfortable, we’d swap books and read. I think it’d just be a lovely way to get to know the other person. You can tell a lot about a person by their favourite book.”

Oh my God. He’s so cute. I can’t stop myself smiling, instantly fantasising about how much I want to be the person who he takes on this picnic date.

“Your silence speaks volumes.” he shoots, his voice muffled.

“Armin!” I shout, louder than intended. “If somebody did that for my first date, I’d ask for their hand in marriage. That’s such a romantic idea! My silence is speaking the volumes of ‘holy shit, I wish I could have a first date like that’.”

“You think so?”

“Yes! You could get anyone you wanted if you planned that as a date. You should ask the next person you find cute what their favourite thing to bring on a picnic is, you'll be married by the end of the day." I assert hyperbolically.

“I seriously can’t asking people out. If I could… well.” he falters, furrows his brow and sighs. “Hey, what’s your favourite book?”

My body shoots full of adrenaline. Is he coming on to me? Or am I reading way too much into this? That's got to be a come on, right?

“Well, I have a few favourites, but the best I’ve read recently is Circe by Madeleine Miller.”

“Oh!” he exclaims with the sweetest grin, his eyes wide. “I loved Song of Achilles, but I never got round to Circe.”

Shoot your shot, shoot your shot, shoot your shot. I cannot stop my mind running, daring to ask if he’d like to read it, insinuating the date.

“What’s your favourite?” I enquire. I decide to test the waters. “What book would you bring to this picnic date… if I brought Circe?” Was that a bit too much testing of the waters? Oh, God. He shrouds his head with his bare arms, and I am weighing up whether this is because I’ve pushed it too far or if he’s blushing.

“Uh… well I have a lot of favourites, like you. But I’d most likely bring Oryx and Crake by Margaret Atwood. It’s something I read when I was young, much too young to fully understand the depth of the nuances, but it always stayed with me. As I got older, I reread it over and over and I was more immersed each time. It’s one of her best works, I’d even say it’s on the level with The Handmaid’s Tale.” During his rambles, he pokes his head up, clearly lost in the world of the book he describes to me. That’s when I am shot through with another course of adrenaline, desperately fighting any visible tells of excitement. He is blushing!

“Huh,” I muse. “Not read that one, only The Handmaid’s Tale and The Testaments.”

“So… we’ve both not read each other’s favourite books, huh?” he says quietly, pushing himself up onto his forearms and turning his head. He begins to bend his fingers against each other. I am absentmindedly biting my thumbnail, wondering if either of us might ask.

Fuck it.

“Um… no hard feelings if not–”

“It’s fine if you don’t want to, but–”

We both start in unison. Pause. Make direct eye contact.

“You go.” Again, in unison, before laughing nervously.

“Seriously, you can go first!” I gesture, wondering if he will really ask me.

He shakes his head shyly. “You go.”

“Well… if you’re going to ask what I think you are, then I want to hear you say it!” I tell him.

“So, what do you think I’m going to ask?”

“If you wanted to do that date together!” I blurt, then reel. Oh, that sly bastard. He’s gotten me to say it first.

“Yeah… I’d like that, (y/n).”

“Okay, cool.” I respond, internally smacking myself. Okay, cool? Who says okay, cool? “I mean,” I rectify, fidgeting. “That’d be really nice. When? Is here okay? Wait, I’m totally rambling, aren’t I? Sorry, I just…”

“No it’s okay! I… I was nervous too. Are you free tomorrow? Or is that too soon–”

“No, not too soon! What about a time?

“Noon okay? I mean, it doesn’t have to be, but–” We are both stumbling over words, rebuttals, speaking quickly and correcting ourselves on our own words. But we are also both grinning uncontrollably. I sigh, taking a moment.

“Noon would be great. Would you like me to bring anything? Drinks, or snacks?”

“Well, I can take care of sandwiches and fruits. If you could bring any drinks you like or some other small snacks, that’d be lovely.”

“No problem! But I have one question… are you really going to make me cookies?”

Armin exhales through his nose, shaking his head. Then he does something uncharacteristically bold; takes my hand and squeezes it briefly.

“For you, I think I can do that.”

[seventeenlovesthree]

Since it's my personal mission to make everybody watch the Digimon Adventure Tri Stage Play, I dug up one of my favourite interviews again. I owe the producer my life, because he simply managed to create the best piece of Digimon Adventure media since Adventure itself (in my opinion almost as amazing as Our War Game and that MEANS something). However, I saw a few people being confused about a few things, so I wanted to clarify:

"Wait, is the Stage Play just Tri's story but done on stage?"

Nope, it does take place during the Tri era (between the third and fourth movie to be exact), but it is an original (side) story that can be watched without having any knowledge of Tri or Tri's plot.

"Does the story take place in the real or in the Digital World?"

That would actually be a spoiler and since there is no easy answer to this, I'm gonna say you have to watch it for yourself.

"Are the characters like in the original or like in Tri?"

That's the fun part - of course there are glimpses and pieces of the Tri characterizations, but the producer really did his very best to adapt the characters faithfully and as respectfully from the original source material as much as he could and I think you can feel that:

"To be honest, the generational timing was a little off for me, so I had never seen Digimon before. After I received the request for the stage play, I watched all of it, including the original TV series and the movie series, but I didn’t expect that I’d be crying so many times. It was a story of human growth and Digimon evolution being deeply intertwined, and I watched as that growth and evolution was overlaid with so many other things. Maybe it was because I watched it as an adult, but I was able to see it from all sorts of perspectives in regards to “people growing”. (...) While I’ve worked with other people’s stories and made plays out of them several times, it was usually in the sense of taking the original work’s story and repurposing it for the stage format. But for this one, even though I’m borrowing the original series’s characters, the story is being written from scratch, and it’s my first time writing words for characters that were created by other people. It was a high level of difficulty, and I still feel it even now. Also, it made me wonder how the scriptwriters for the anime must have done this. They were also writing the same characters in the same world, while sharing that job with tons of other people. It’s amazing that they were able to do that. But, naturally, it wasn’t just full of difficult and painful things, but once the story properly got going, I got to hear the lines I was writing in the voices of the characters from the original series, and getting to savor those kinds of moments was very fun. Someone like me, who works in the theatre field, gets to take over the job of writing the lines of characters made by others. And then I have Toei check over it, and we get even closer to the mark. So in other words, we bring these characters to life by sharing them between everyone. And especially in the case of Digimon, it was an interesting experience in that there wasn’t just one writer or director, but rather that everyone had their own version of Taichi and Yamato, and the dialogue was born from between all of that.

"Anything else I need to know?"

If you are able to see past some cringe, don't mind nostalgia baiting and are okay with a few... Questionable scenes in regards to the main antagonist (which you will definitely know if you've watched the original Adventure series), you will enjoy this.

Also, personally, I'd say this is the order of plot relevance of each human character, so if your favourite characters are in the top half of the list (and even if they're not), you are likely to have fun:

Taichi

Jyou

Koushirou

Yamato

Mimi

Hikari

Sora

Takeru

[goatztorm]

Favorite Memory - Adeleine

“What’s your favorite childhood memory?”

Adeleine hesitated, paintbrush hovering over the blank canvas in front of her. She glanced at Ribbon, who had an innocent smile on her face.

She didn’t know why it was so-

Actually?

Scratch that.

Adeleine knew exactly why it was so difficult to answer the question.

A couple of years ago, she would’ve said “meeting you” or “going on an adventure with Kirby”, but…

Her dads flashed in her mind. Her life had changed so much during these last few years, and she could no longer choose a single moment as her favorite.

Adeleine just shrugged and turned back to the canvas. Ribbon was content with that answer for she had been there for Adeleine during everything that had happened.

[yourlocalbadgerscales]

Trans rights you fuckers. Y’all know who you are.

Just clogging your tags before you can clog the toilets with all your shit. No need to thank me, terfs <3

[forgottenliv]

What ever man. Mekh blast 💥

I think they would look so good in a suit

[blossoms-phan]

many people are afraid to be real lovers. dan and phil are not

[thereweredragonshere]

I skip all Hiccstrid scenes in Rtte because buffstrid is not canon💔

[amethystsoda]

A new gen “fan” said this on tiktok and immediately got flamed, because this fandom was BUILT on cringe animation cosplay kids. All the og fans are sharing cosplay now to re-cringe-ify the fandom 🥰🥰

[beartitled]

The bear creatüre has a bachelor degree now

Yea I graduated uni today 🐻‍❄️🎓🎉

Feels weird tbh 💥

My brain did not register this information yet

Diploma comic reveal when? 👀

[sincerely-sofie]

A quick draft of an experimental piece about trauma and opening up, scripted out of 99.9% aesthetic Pinterest quotes, with as many attributions as I could find under the cut:

[crazy-fangirl2524]

Andrew Minyard puts on his black combat boots and black armbands. He wears his black hoodie because Andrew is not like other boys. His newest teammate Neil Josten has an aura of danger that Andrew knows he is better off not getting close. But Andrew cannot help it. He is like a moth drawn to a flame. Neil’s untamed auburn hair that is never styled yet it is messy in an effortless way and his big blue orbs that must have a lot of hidden secrets. Andrew knows he should not play with fire but with that toned body Andrew minyard can not stay away.

Whatever, not like Neil josten would notice him anyways. He is the outcast in his teams and no one likes him. Neil josten would not care about him.

Imagine Andrew’s surprise when Neil josten joins him on the roof and shares his secrets. Andrew is right, Neil has a very dark past that is even darker than Andrew’s. Neil is involved in the mafia! But because Andrew is not like other boys he does not care and promise to protect Neil even though Andrew probably cannot do anything if anything happens. Neil probably has to be the one to save Andrew.

Neil also turns out to be loaded and he buys Andrew a car when his was destroyed and Andrew cannot say no to a Maserati.

Everyone else on the team is so shock when super attractive good looking Neil josten will choose to be with someone like Andrew minyard but Neil does not care and growls at anyone that says anything bad about Andrew.

[ghost-bxrd]

Tbh romance isn’t defined by groundrules because every romance is different. One romance is just friendships so close and dear you want to kiss them on the lips because it feels right.

For the other romance is like a hurricane ravaging the heart and causing chaos in the surroundings.

For someone else romance is going home to someone and ribbing each other while feeling comfortable around that one single person who feels like they’re the only one who gets you.

For another romance is like stumbling over a root and falling into the other and never letting go again before either of them notices.

Romance can be the anger and frustration you have for each other you rather want to push them away but to be without them is like a gaping hole in the heart.

Romance can be anything and everything. Not a single romance is the exact same even though media often makes it seem that way

Oh I totally get the part with love and romance being different for everyone! And I love reading about those different dynamics ranging from “two halves of the same whole” to “destined to fail like perpendicular lines crashing into one another only to part forever afterwards”.

It’s just that actually writing it is sooooooo difficult for me lmao. Developing romantic feelings for someone is (for me personally) strongly dependent on the type of bond/friendship you have with that person beforehand? But that’s also very different for everyone.