#writer’s block is the devil but I’ll get over it soon (hopefully)

[sugarpasteltmnt]

writing’s been slow and work is ramping up and I miss posting but I hope u all are doing okay 🩵

[that-gay-guy-from-hell]

Rough Day?: Dante x Male Reader

SUMMARY: Dante comes home from a job and just needs some love; which you happen to be the best--and only--supplier he goes to… however, you are too blind to notice how he feels.

BEGINNING NOTES: >Dante x Male Reader* >Unestablished relationship;       >Dante is obviously flirting with you and you aren’t getting the hint--like REALLY painfully obvious and you are just oblivious.* >Fluff: Dante is a big cuddly softy--I really just needed something sweet. 🐻🧸🐻 >The reader isn’t a devil hunter but rather a secretary for the shop; handling paperwork and is on the shorter side* >Dante and you share some wine--I know nothing about wine so I just Googled what wine goes well with pizza and read about it lmfao >Although I don’t explicitly say what movie, I wrote this with the movie “xXx” in mind (2002: it's an action movie with Vin Diesel; it is not a porno even though it sounds like it lmfao)--it has a red lingerie scene. If you haven’t seen it, it’s a great movie--it’s as old as I am but it’s fucking great. One of my childhood favorites; highkey wanted Xander’s xXx neck tattoo--and still kind of do tbh lmao 🧸🐻🧸 *This is a bit self-indulgent and relates to me a bit more than normal. To be 100% honest I haven’t been in the best place and I need some soft stuff hence the male reader. It’s also why the requests are taking so damn long, I just hit writer's block and am having a downward swing again lol  Sorry for the inconvenience! I should hopefully break out of this soon ;))

==

     The sound of the garage door opening made you look up from the mound of paperwork you were currently nose-deep in. With a small smile,  you stood up to go see who was visiting; however, you were quickly stopped by a tall muscular roadblock. Said roadblock slumped over and placed his forehead on your shoulder. 

     "Welcome home… Rough day, huh?" You lovingly placed a hand on his back, rubbing small circles into his jacket.

     Dante nodded against you, “It was a complete shit show and Vergil was crabby…”

     “Mmn, I’m sorry,” you grabbed his hand with your free one, squeezing it slightly, “Why don’t you go shower--I’ll order dinner and we can watch a movie.”

     The red devil leaned up and gave you a soft smile, his eyes creasing at the edges, "You sure? You seem busy."

     You laughed and rolled your eyes, placed a forearm on your forehead, leaning back dramatically, "Oh no-- I have to stop filling out your back taxes; what a pity…”

     Dante laughed softly and pulled you close, with you still leaning backwards, “Such a shame, I know how much you love paperwork.” 

     Your shoulder hit his chest and he took the opportunity to nuzzle himself against your exposed throat. The feeling of his stubble scraping along your neck made you squirm in his grasp, laughing loudly, “Hey-- Stop that- that tickles, Dante-!”

     “Oh? Does it now?” The red devil snuggly nuzzled the side of his jaw into you, a broad smile tugging at his features at the sound of your laughter.

     “You’re---- You’re gonna get me dirty--”

     “Mmn,” he stopped and you pivoted to face him, “Then you can shower with me…”

     You laughed brightly and, despite your previous statement of him being grungy, you hid your face in his chest attempting to hide your flustered expression, “In your dreams, Dante.”

     He wrapped his arms around you, kneading your back with his fingers, “Sometimes~”

     “Perve!” You laughed harder as you shoved his shoulder playfully.

     The two of you stood there for a few moments, Dante loudly purring against you, and enjoying your closeness. Nonchalantly you slid your face up to his shoulder, which he eagerly leaned down for.  After a moment, you placed your face against the side of his and gently pushed against him. With a happy sigh, you ran your fingers through his hair but stopped quickly upon noticing the gore within his white strands--that was now all over your hand, “Alright, mister, go shower and we can continue this later.”

     He leaned up slowly and stuck out his lower lip in a pout, giving you puppy dog eyes.

     “Uh-uh, no-” you turned from him, closing your eyes, “I am not falling for that; Last time we had to get a new couch because of how dirty you were and the shop smelt like a rotten butcher shop for a week.”

     “Alright, alright,” Dante smiled and cupped your cheek with one hand, slowly thumbing over your face, “I’ll be back in a jif, babe," he moved his hand to your chin, holding it with his thumb and forefinger for a moment before slowly letting go, hustling out of the kitchen.

     "Hey, make sure you’re actually clean-! Damn it…” Your words fell upon deaf ears as you listened to the creak of the stairs from him jogging up them. With a wistful sigh, you smiled softly, “What a dork.”

     After washing your hands with soap and bleach, you left the kitchen and went over to Dante’s desk. As per usual, you dialed up the local pizza parlor and within two rings they picked up. 

     “Dante!” The voice of a jolly old man echoed through the phone, “How’s my best customer?”

     You laughed, “Sorry, Dante’s showering right now; it’s--”

     “Ah, it’s Dante’s husband! How are you?”

     A fiery feeling filled your face as you sputtered out, “Dante’s what?”

     “Don’t worry, I'm fine with you being gay! Dante always struck me as a fruity guy, even back when he first started-”

     You let out an awkward laugh, “We aren’t- Dante and I aren’t even dating,” You let out another laugh, however, the longing feeling from earlier returned, "Let alone married."

     "Oh! Sorry, just with the way you two act…” The old man paused momentarily before clearing his throat, “Anyways, you want the usual?”

     “Yes, please. Can we get that delivered?”

     “Oh? Sure thing. It’ll be there in--” There was a short pause with incoherent yelling between the old man and someone else before he returned to you, “Be there in about 10 minutes, alright?”

     “Yup! Thanks so much! Have a great night, Pops!”

     “You too, kid, bye!”

     “Bye!”

     As you hung up the phone, you slumped back into the desk chair, replaying the conversation. Did he really think that Dante and you were lovers? How many others at that shop had the same idea? You bit your lip in thought. Was it that obvious that you had a crush on him? 

     With a groan, you leaned forward, placing your elbows on the desk and your face in your hands. Does Dante know how you feel? As you mulled over things, you lost track of time and never even heard Dante descend the stairs or realize he was right beside you.

     “Somethin’ wrong?”

     You flinched at the sudden noise to your right and jolted up out of the chair. 

     Dante was standing with a casual lean to his posture and a tilt of his head, obviously curious about your odd behavior. Your eyes widened at the shirtless devil and his half-lidded lazy smile. Currently, he was in just a pair of baggy black sweatpants… and that was it. His hands were neatly tucked into his pockets, inadvertently pulling down the waistband of well-worn clothing which gave you a tasteful peak at his strawberry print boxers. Although he was mostly dry, you could still see water dripping from his hair onto his shoulders and chest; which made your stare wander down from his eyes. 

     Noticing your straying eyes, Dante’s smile turned to a sultry smirk, “Like what you see, baby~?” He flexed his pecs and winked, watching your blush darken. 

     “Huh?! What- No- I wasn’t-- It’s just,” you shakily gestured to his chest, “You’re wet--”

     “Not yet I’m not,” He winked as his tilted posture deepened.

     You sputtered out gibberish as you stiffened. 

     Dante leaned closer and tilted his head, cupping the side of your face, “You know, you're pretty cute when you're all flustered and speechless.”

     As you turned into his palm, you let out an embarrassed laugh, “Yeah right, sure Dante.”

     “I’m serious,” he leaned up with a wide toothy grin, “You’re like a…” With a pause and a squint in thought, he snapped his free hand’s fingers, “A cow!”

     “Hey!” You leaned away from his hand, placing your hands on your hips, “Rude.”

     “Eh?” Dante stuck a lip out in confusion, “What? You don’t find ‘em cute or somethin’?”

     “Dante… When you call someone a “cow” you’re calling them fat and ugly.”

     His eyes widened, “Since when?”

     You shook your head and sighed, “That insult has been around for literal centuries.”

     Panicked that he may have upset you, he stumbled over his words as he tried to fix his words, “I didn’t mean for it to be insulting! Cows are my favorite animal and-”

     "Oh trust me, cowboy, I know they are," you shook your head with a laugh and broke eye contact with him. 

     Suddenly, you felt a large set of arms around you and your head was against a warm chest. Dante set his head atop yours and mumbled, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to insult you; I just think you’re really cute and I couldn’t think of anything I find cuter than a cow. I--”

     “Dante,” you sighed and pushed against him lovingly with your head, resting your cheek against him, “You don’t have to apologize.”

     As you layed upon him, enjoying the brief and rare moment of peace, you found yourself relaxing into his hold. The smell of his body wash-- the low consistent beating of his heart-- the warm heat his body gave off-- all wrapped up into a large affectionate package. A package that you could only dream about allowing you to stay this close for the rest of your days.

     To be able to place your sleeve rather than your cheek. To tell him exactly what you have been yearning for many years. 

     But those are childish thoughts and nothing more than a dream. Someday, Dante will find a wife and leave this godforsaken business and live a happy life; all while you watch from the side and cheer him on from a distance. 

     His arms tightened around you and he began to purr lightly, “When we retire, we should buy a farm.”

     You raised a brow, “What, you still need me with you to do your taxes or something?”

     As he laughed, you felt his chest reverberate with each noise, “I need you for a lot more than that, babe.”

     “Mhm, sure you do,” you sighed and turned your head, placing your forehead against his chest.

     Before Dante could respond, a loud knock came from the front door. Excitedly, he let go of you and smiled widely, “I’ll get it.”

     As he took care of the payment for the pizza, you wandered into the kitchen to grab plates. A small sigh left your lips as you looked at the empty place where the paper plates go, knowing the replacements are on the top shelf--a shitty result of having a behemoth of a housemate. With pursed lips, you stood on your tip toes and tried to stretch up to reach the desired item. 

     Just as you were about to go get a chair to stand on, you felt a set of large hands grab your waist and pick you up. A surprised squeak left your lips and you whipped your head around to see a smiling Dante. You rolled your eyes and grabbed the plates. Carefully, Dante placed you back on the ground and backed up a bit. 

     “Thanks,” you smiled at him and grabbed a plate, handed it to him, then grabbed one for yourself.

     After Dante placed two full glasses of Malbec on the table, you sat in adjacent corner chairs--facing at an angle to see one another. There was a comfortable silence between you as you ate; well, save for the quiet happy humming that came from Dante as he ate. As you watched him, you smiled warmly. It’s times like these that make you forget how dangerous Dante actually is. How he could rip you limb to limb if he felt so inclined. With a shake of your head, you returned to eating, shoving those frightening thoughts down. 

     After some time, Dante leaned towards you and placed an elbow on the table, “So you never did tell me why you were sitting for like ten minutes with that weird expression after you ordered.”

     “Oh! It’s nothin’.”

     “Mmhmm,” Dante smiled as he took another bite of food, “Okay, let me rephrase that:” He gestured mindlessly with his hand, “I overheard your half of the call from upstairs and was wondering what Pops said to you that got you so worked up.”

     “Nothin’ important-!” Your answer was very abrupt as your face began to heat up again, which Dante noticed.

     “Come on~ It had to be something; I can ask Pops if you--”

     “No! Don’t, please,” you pursed your lips and avoided his eyes.

     His brow furrowed, “He didn’t say anything bad to you, did he?”

     “What? No! That man couldn’t say an evil thing if you held him at gunpoint.”

     “Then what?”

     “Just…” You paused with a shake of your head before sheepishly mumbling, “He called me your husband.”

     Dante finished chewing and placed his slice down, “Really?”

     With a nod and a drink, you nodded, “Yup…”

     His voice took a more serious tone as he looked you in the eyes, “Does that… bother you?”

     You shook your head ‘no’, avoiding his eyes, “Was unexpected is all…”

     The red devil laughed and went to grab his drink, but missed the glass and knocked it over.

     “Dante-!” You shot up from your seat and looked down at yourself. The glass thankfully hadn’t smashed and was still on the tabletop; however, the red wine had been spilled all over your shirt and pants, soaking straight through everything you had on. 

     “Shit, sorry!” Dante stood up as well and attempted to dry you off with some napkins he grabbed from the table, continuing to apologize.

     You instantly became flustered as you realized what Dante was doing and where his hands were, “That’s not helping--” You caught eyes with him and he noticed your expression.

     “Well,” he stood back up, placing a hand on his hip, “I could just use my tou--”

     “I’m going to shower!” You cut him off and scuttled out of the room, ignoring the growing fluttery feeling in your chest, and didn't hear Dante’s dejected sigh.

     As you were bathing, Dante cleaned up the kitchen. He put the half-eaten pizza in the fridge and then saw your wine glass was still half-full. With a casual shrug, he finished it off and placed the two glasses in the sink. Slowly, he meandered out into the living room to set up the TV when he got an idea. 

     Your shower was rather quick, being in and out of the bathroom within less than five minutes. With a small hum, you dried off, got dressed in some clean wine-free clothing, and left the room. Only to run straight into a certain white-haired man’s chest, making you jump with a startled shout. 

     “Wha-!” You stared at him for a moment before raising a brow at him, “What are you doing?”

     “Waiting for you,” the look he gave you was reminiscent of a happy puppy, making you mindlessly reach up to pat the top of his head.

     Dante leaned down and placed his head on your shoulder, purring softly from your touch. His hands wrapped around your back, finding purchase on the small of your back, and he took a deep slow inhale. Although he’d never say it out loud, he found your scent to be rather comforting and relaxing. The two of you stood there for a moment before he leaned back.

     “I have a surprise for you.”

     “Oh no,” you stared at him, “What did you do?”

     With a lip stuck out with a disingenuous frown, “Why do you assume it’s a bad thing?”

     “Dante,” you slid your hands down his arms and rested on his biceps, “Last time you said you “I have a surprise” I came home to the shop doors through the stairs and a tarp for a front door…”

     He laughed and buried his face in your neck, taking on a playfully sarcastic tone, “That was fun~! It made the shop nice and drafty.”

     “Maybe for you Mister hot-blooded but it was for like a month in the dead of winter. I froze my ass off--”

     Dante grabbed your ass harshly, “Nope, it’s still there.”

     You shoved him playfully and rolled your eyes.

     He leaned back up, “Now, can I show you the surprise?”

     With a nod, you sighed happily, “Alright, what-- Hey!”

     Instantly your feet were off the ground and he was holding you from underneath your legs; you then wrapped yourself around him, fearing he’d drop you. A large smile adorned his face as he walked down to his room, opened the door, and tossed you onto the nearby bed. He turned to shut the door and when he looked back at you, he saw that your eyes were wide and heard how fast your heart was beating; which caused his smile to take a more sultry turn. 

     Dante gestured towards the foot of the bed, where he had moved his bedside table and placed the TV on top of, “Figure it’s a little more comfortable than the couch.”

     “G-gotcha,” you shook your head and smiled, laying on your stomach to face the screen.

     He moved towards the mattress then jumped onto it, laying right beside you, “Don’t worry, I picked out a great movie--”

     “If we are watching the same fucking movie-- I swear to god--”

     “But it’s so good!”

     “I think I know every goddamned word by now.”

     Dante looked at you with his bottom lip stuck out, giving you his infamous puppy eyes.

     “No-- nu-uh--” You looked away from him and took a long deep breath, “Dante-- For fucks sake--” 

     Dante whimpered softly, making you turn back to him, and found yourself met with the red devil’s bright turquoise eyes and his brow upturned into a pout. With a wistful sigh, you shook your head and laughed, “I hate when you give me those eyes-- Fine, we can watch your movie.”

     He flashed you a wide toothy grin and reached out to grab the remote from the table, turning on the flick. 

     Bit by bit, Dante slid to lay right beside you, his body tightly tucked against yours. Slowly, he leaned his head onto your shoulder, growing sleepier with each passing minute. However, he managed to stay awake and watch the movie.

     Around an hour in, a scene came on that showed various women in scarcely any clothing; ending in a climactic scene where the main lead climbs into bed with a woman dressed in red lingerie. 

     Dante rolled onto his side, looking at you with half-lidded eyes as he spoke in a low sultry voice, “I should buy you a set like that, bet you’d look hot.”

     Your heart skipped a beat and your eyes went wide, “H-huh?!”

     He placed a hand on your bicep and slowly began to rub his thumb against you, “I mean, I know that the bra might be a little much; but the panties would be worth it at the very least.”

     “Dante---- Dante,” you turned to him, your face burning, “Why on Earth would you want me in that?”

     “You’d look hot; what other reason would I need?” He flashed you a warm suggestive smirk.

     “I mean,” you looked away with a small huff, mumbling, “Wouldn’t you want someone you’re dating wearing it?”

     Dante’s smile faded as he removed his hand, “What?”

     You continued to mumble, refusing to look back at him, “You know like someone you’re attracted to..?”

     The red devil blankly stared at you for a moment before he grabbed the remote and hit the stop button several times before dropping it somewhere onto the floor, then slid off the foot of the bed.

     Your eyes slowly turned to face him, “Dante..?”

     He pushed the ‘off’ button on the TV and turned back to face you, "Look," his voice was quiet and he looked defeated, unable to look you in the eyes, as he took a few steps closer to stand in front of you, "I know our dates aren't anything fancy or- or high quality but--"

     “What-?” You swung your legs around to sit at the edge of the bed, “Our-- huh?”

     His expression changed from a kicked puppy to a blank dumbfounded stare as his eyes met with your gaze, “Our dates.”

     You pursed your lips and shook your head, “What are you talkin’ about Dante..?”

     “Our dates--” He leaned down to look you dead in the eyes, bracing himself with his hands on either side of you against the bed, “You feelin’ alright?”

     “We aren’t--”

     “We’ve been going out for almost a year,” he pursed his lips, “I asked you out like a month after comin’ home…” 

     With a confused tilt of your head, you furrowed your brow, “I don’t remember.”

     “After Verge and I returned home, I didn’t want to…” He shrugged one shoulder with a small half-hearted laugh, “To miss out on my chance with you, so I asked you out. We went to the zoo, remember?”

     With a slightly furrowed brow, you did your best to try and remember that day. Dante was nearly welded to you during that outing; between holding your hand or having an arm snugly wrapped around your waist, he was very overly physical with you. Until now, you’d just brushed it off, thinking that Dante was just sick of being so touch-starved and you gladly gave him what he wanted.

      Admittedly, it was a two-way street, you wanted to be just as close to him as he was providing. From small things like morning hugs or more intense things like him placing a kiss on your forehead every once in a while, it was such an unexpected but welcomed experience. However, without him outright stating things, you didn’t think he meant anything of it; refusing to believe someone like him would be with someone like you. 

     You laughed, catching Dante off guard, and placed the top of your head against his chest, “I didn’t realize you meant a literal “date”.” A blush spread across your face as you stared at the floor, taking a quieter meeker tone, “I wish I had known that you-- that we were…”

     “Does it bother you? I mean if you don’t feel that way, I won’t force you to--”

     “Dante…” You closed your eyes with a shy laugh, your voice growing quieter and quieter with each word, “I just wished that I’d known the guy I’ve been into for years has the same feelings back… That’s all.”

     He paused for a moment, listening to the quickening pacing of your heart, before softly setting his hands on your shoulders causing you to look back at him. Although Dante’s gaze is always softer when it comes to you; right now, his stare seems even gentler than normal. His brow was relaxed and he had a lazy smile tugging at his lips with a very faint purr emanating from his throat. Bit by bit, the two of you moved closer and shared a tender innocent kiss. 

     When he and you pulled apart, a smile tugged at Dante’s face at your flustered appearance, “You know,” he laughed, placing his forehead on your shoulder, “I just thought you were taking things at a snail's pace, babe.”

     “I- I didn’t know- I would’ve-” You shook your head, unable to come up with a cohesive sentence. 

     Using your flustered mindset to his advantage, Dante moved to sit on and straddle your lap. With wide eyes, you stared up at the smiling man. Cautiously, you ran a hand up his middle, making note of his skin felt underneath your fingertips. Even though you’d briefly touched his torso before, this was an entirely different ballpark. Your hand made its way to his neck and you very gently thumbed over his throat. 

     Once your hand was on the side of his face, you felt a sudden nervous feeling begin to spread throughout your limbs; you’d wanted to kiss him again but found yourself hesitant to ask. Thankfully, Dante was far from reluctant.

     The red devil leaned down and kissed you again, your hand still cupping the side of his face. These kisses were longer and more impassioned. Your hands clasped around the back of his neck, as he grabbed your waist allowing him to lean you backwards. A smile tugged at his lips as he began to bite at your lower lip, taking great care not to puncture your kiss-swollen flesh. Then he made his way down your jaw and to your neck, relishing in your uneven heavy breaths. 

     As he nipped at your neck, you slid a hand into his hair and grabbed the back of his head as you arched your back. Dante took this as an okay to bite a little harder, leaving a loving mark. When he was done, he set his forehead on the front side of your shoulder, laughing softly.

     “What’s up?” You raised a brow at his odd reaction.

     Dante’s voice was quiet, “I just really love you, so damned much.”

     A very small droplet of water hit your chest as you realized why he didn’t return to your gaze.

     “I love you too Dante,” You wrapped yourself around him, tightly squeezing him, “I have for a long time.”

     He copied your action, wrapping himself around you. Another laugh left his lips as he sniffled, placing his head beside yours. As you layed intertwined, you both began to drift off to sleep; staying interwoven until morning, a feeling you’d both yearned to experience for much too long. 

==

ENDING NOTES: Cows are really cute and if you disagree, you’re wrong lmao. If you’ve ever pet a calf you’ll know they are just so cute and ugHHH (I was raised on a farm, we didn’t have cows but I did get to see them a lot because of family-related stuff; so I am biased over farm animals a bit. Plus it fits Dante’s DMC 4 cowboy vibe lmao) 🐻🧸🐻 Was gonna make this a smut fic. but I just wasn’t vibing with it so it kind of ends abruptly, sorry lol

Want to see more like this? Want to read my work quicker and several stories that are not on Tumblr? Check this out on my AO3 (Linked here)

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[your-divine-ribs]

The Devil Next Door Part 13

Words: 2.3k

This is as far as I have written for this story but hopefully I’ll get it updated soon ❤️‍🔥

The Devil Next Door Masterlist Main Masterlist

❤️‍🔥 Van's POV ❤️‍🔥

"You're not seriously thinking of joining a gym are ya?"

Bondy's voice makes me jump and I resist slamming the laptop shut, not wanting him to think I'm trying to hide what I'm doing.

"Christ sake, wish you'd quit sneaking up on me like that!" I complain, hoping to divert from what he's just seen over my shoulder as I sit at the kitchen table hunched over my MacBook.

No such luck though, he's grinning like a Cheshire Cat as he crosses to the fridge and takes out two bottles of San Miguel, prising off the tops and passing one to me.

"That's the gym Y/N goes too ya know," he smirks at me, taking a pull on his lager. "But I'm guessing you already knew that, huh?"

"I didn't actually," I lie, shrugging for effect. "I've been meaning to join up to one for ages and this one looks good... and it's local. It's just around the corner."

I'd spotted the gym's slogan on Y/N's duffle bag when I saw her arrive home a few days ago. It wasn't like I was spying on her or anything, it's just that I notice things when I'm skulking around out front having a ciggie break... and I've been having lots of those recently. Whenever I'm writing and I'm stuck on a lyric or a riff and I need a bit of inspiration I'm straight outside lighting up. I don't know why it helps but it seems to clear my head. I can't understand song-writers who'll take a long hiatus complaining about writer's block, it's just a fag break for me.

"You... join a gym? You only move off the sofa to put the kettle on most days. Reckon you'd cough up a lung if you got on a treadmill for more than five minutes."

The expression on Bondy's face says it all and it's quite obvious he can see my real intentions but I make an attempt to string him along, feeling a little embarrassed about the lengths I'm prepared to go to to impress a girl who's made her disdain for me abundantly clear.

"Fuck off, I'm not that unfit! Every time I'm on stage it's like a bloody workout. Couldn't do all that if I was a slob... and I used to be dead good at footy. Was the star striker at school back in the day ya know."

I take a swig on my beer and Bondy watches me, amused. "Yeah exactly... at school. How many years ago was that now? Sure that was before you discovered booze and fags."

"It's never too late to take on new hobbies," I say, ignoring his teasing as I scroll down the web page, perusing the classes.

"Let's see how long this one lasts!" He sniggers as he comes to stand behind me, watching on as I quickly scroll past yoga and Pilates.

"No one's catching me bending my body into ridiculous shapes dressed in Lycra!" I laugh.

I have no idea what HIIT is and I disregard weight-training too. I'm just hovering over the spin classes when the words 'Learn to box' catch my eye. That's more like it. I'm not hench or anything but I'm fast on my feet and I'm actually much stronger than I look. I try to imagine Y/N being impressed when she sees me driving my fists into a punch bag but my daydreams are interrupted by Bondy's mocking laughter.

"There's no way ya doing boxing mate, yer built like a rake! That's taking feather-weight way too literally!"

"It's just for fitness," I scowl, automatically shifting in my seat to correct my slouched posture. "It'll be training and a bit of light sparring and stuff. They're not exactly gonna stick me in a ring with Tyson Fury are they?"

Bondy rips the shit out of me for a few more minutes whilst I return fire, then he announces that he's going to get ready for the party, leaving me sitting there alone with my thoughts.

He's probably right to laugh, I'm not a fighter... and I'm definitely not a fitness fanatic. I might have a quick temper and boundless energy but I've not got an aggressive bone in my body and I'm certainly not cut out for boxing. This whole health-kick fad is admittedly a ridiculous idea but when I get a plan in my head I'm determined to see it through. If there's even a minuscule chance that it might get Y/N to see me in a different light rather than the lazy, lay-around no-hoper musician she currently sees me as then I'll take it. And if I just so happen to bump into her at the gym whilst she's working up a sweat then that's a bonus.

Tom was round again yesterday. He'd called in presumably after work to assist Y/N with fixing the trellis back on to the front wall of her house. I had to grit my teeth seeing him out there flexing his muscles like Superman come to help out his Lois Lane. Whilst I was relieved she'd got it sorted to save me from the unpleasant twinge of humiliation every time I left the house to see it lying there on the floor taunting me, I couldn't help but feel wounded that she hadn't asked me to fix it for her. After all it was my mess and I'd have been quite happy to clear it up. It was obviously yet another clear message telling me that she wasn't ready to forgive me and still wanted nothing more to do with me, but despite all of that I still can't seem get her out of my fucking head.

Much as I hate to admit it to myself I've got it bad. I've not felt this desperate kind of yearning for a girl in a long time. I definitely had my moments in my teenage years when I'd just got into music making and my hormones were running rampant. There was Chloe who Bob used to drum for who I was crazy about but at nine years my senior just wasn't interested in me. Then Kathleen came along who was as equally enchanting as she was toxic. She only had to click her fingers and I'd come running like a pathetic little love-sick puppy. I probably had a lucky escape on both accounts but they certainly inspired some quality lyrics.

"Heyup look who it is, it's Muhammad Ali!"

Benji's jeering voice sounds out from the open doorway, snapping me out of my thoughts. I look up to see him bounding into the kitchen with his fists raised in a fighting stance, huge shit-eating grin plastered all over his face.

"C'mon then," he teases, bouncing on his feet, ducking his body from side to side. "Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee! What's all this I hear about you taking up boxing then? You'll get the shit kicked outta yer for sure!"

"Just thought I'd try something different instead of laying around the house with you losers," I smirk back at him, rising up as he jabs a fist into my side, catching hold of his wrist and yanking him forwards quickly and hard enough that he stumbles forward. I take advantage of the fact that he's temporarily unstable, tugging him into my side and wrestling him into a head-lock.

"What the fuck! Gerr-off Van! I've just done ma hair!" He yelps as I scrub my knuckles roughly over his curls.

I just laugh as he wriggles ineffectually, finally pushing him away whilst he fusses over his curly mop. "Reckon it's an improvement Blakes!"

I think he's going to retaliate but Bondy appears back in the kitchen and we soon get distracted with talk of the party as he hands out more beers which we gratefully accept. Any thoughts of kick-starting the new healthy version of me are pushed aside at once as I swig on my drink and light up a ciggie.

"So... who's coming tonight then Bond?"

Bondy ticks off a list of names on his fingers, mainly crew and their friends, a couple of promoters we've been involved with locally since the move and several bands who've supported us at recent gigs. That's not what I really want to know though. The list is distinctly male-orientated. I probe him further.

"Any more girls?"

He grins. "Why dontcha just ask me mate? Y/N's coming. I didn't have to work my charm on her to persuade her either. I asked Tom and he confirmed that he's bringing her."

My heart sinks and I can't keep the disappointment from my voice. "What the fuck? What did ya have to go and invite him for?"

"We've been messaging since we met at the gig the other night, he's a sound lad. Thought it'd be good to get to know some people from the area aside from the band connections. He's a big fan too."

"Competition eh?" Benji sniggers and Bob who's been quiet so far pipes up, ever the optimist.

"Well, at least she's coming. Heard about your little accident the other night. Sounds like you've got some making up to do so this party's the perfect opportunity. Sure she'll be good with you in no time if don't pull any stunts like that again and actually make an effort."

Benji dissolves into laughter at the mention of the incident which is branded in my mind like a scar on my ego. "What the fuck were you thinking Van? Smooth... real smooth!"

Despite my wounded pride I can see the funny side now and there's plenty of good-natured piss-taking and banter exchanged until I realise there's only half an hour until the first guests are due to arrive. I stub out my cigarette and drain my beer before I'm heading upstairs for the shower.

❤️‍🔥 Y/N’s POV ❤️‍🔥

"Honest opinion. You don't think it looks too slutty do you?" You're FaceTiming your friend Lilly, the back camera aimed at your full length mirror whilst you twist and turn your body so she can take in all your angles.

"It's literally just a little black dress, it looks great on you. It's not too short and it’s not like your tits are hanging out or anything. You should wear it."

You screw up your face as you switch to the front camera, flopping down on to the bed.

"It's just not really me is it? Maybe I'll just wear my jeans and a t-shirt..."

"Y/N!" Your friend scolds you. "Make an effort for once... it's a party! You're just used to wearing those shapeless scrubs all day, that's all. You can't just turn up in jeans for a date."

"It's not a date!" You're quick to reply. "Me and Tom are just friends. I mean, I like him and all... I really like him, but I don't want anything serious... not right now. I don't wanna rush into anything."

"Does he know that?"

You shrug, groaning. "God knows.... he's so nice Lilly... like I'm beginning to wonder whether he's too nice. What if we end up getting it on and then it gets messy and he doesn't wanna be mates anymore? He's like my best mate at work, I'd be lost in that shithole without him. Ughhh why do things have to be so complicated? Why can't I just meet a hot guy who I can have a little fun with, no strings attached?"

She giggles mischievously. "Oh, you mean like Van?"

"Fuck off!" You cry, hoping the blush you've applied will hide the sudden flush in your cheeks. "I told you what a dickhead he was didn't I?"

"Yeah, but I've seen a picture of him now." You see her eyes sparkle through the screen and you don't like the way your gut twists at her obvious appreciation. "There was a review online for that gig you went to the other night. The write up was brilliant by the way, they reckon the band are tipped for great things."

"They are pretty good..." you mumble, waiting to hear more.

"You didn't tell me how fit he was!" She gushes, a huge grin on her face. "Honestly, dickhead or not I'd be well in there! There's just something about scruffy haired indie guys with guitars... I don't know what it is, I can't help myself."

You tell her to shut up, laughing along, promising her that you'll definitely bring her along to the next gig and hating the way that the thought makes you feel deeply uncomfortable. She's your best friend for god's sake and you've made it quite clear that you don't want Van. You can't exactly gatekeep him can you? An image floats into your head of Lilly sitting in Van's lap backstage with her hands in his hair and her lips glued to his and you automatically bristle with fiery jealousy. Maybe you could set her up with Johnny instead...

"Wish I was coming tonight," she sighs, interrupting your thoughts. "Was supposed to be going out with my sister but she's let me down... again. Looks like it's a takeaway for one and Love Island for me."

"At least you'll feel fresh tomorrow!" You stand up and approach the mirror again, tugging on the hem of your skirt which has ridden up around your thighs, wondering if you're too dressed up for a house party.

"I'd better let you go," Lilly says, aware that you've not got long before you need to go. "Remember I'm living vicariously through you tonight so you'd better keep me updated! I wanna hear all about how cute Tom is... and what crazy shit Van and that band of his get up to..."

You're just about to say goodbye when she quickly adds "you can put in a good word for me too if you like..."

"Yeah... yeah... I will," you mutter reluctantly, then "if I even speak to him."

You end the call just as the loud chime of your doorbell rings out. There's just enough time to slick on a touch of glossy cherry red lippy and tousle your hair and then you're rushing down the stairs to answer the door.

[daresplaining]

Daredevil Countdown: 8 Days

Trailer #1 Analysis

    We barely had time to recover from Iron Fist Season 2 before Netflix started dumping Daredevil content on us, and it’s been tough to keep up! We were away minding our own business at NYCC when this trailer dropped, and we’ve only just started to pick through it. There are some major revelations in this thing, which I’m very excited about. There are also a few scenes excerpted here that we saw in their entirety at NYCC, so while I’ll try to keep spoilers to a minimum, expect some minor ones.

    Is it geeky to get a kick out of Matt saying this? Because this makes me really happy. He has spent so much time struggling with his superhero identity that just hearing him call himself Daredevil is thrilling. Also, the background seems to suggest that he’s in the church, and may therefore be saying this to Maggie... which is good, because in one of the scenes we saw at NYCC, she called him “the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen” and I nearly pitched a fit. 

    We saw this scene, so I won’t go into details... beyond saying that it kicks off what sounds like will be an interesting (read: upsetting) relationship between Fisk and the FBI, and as well as Fisk’s manipulation of the justice system and the city as a whole this season. He is getting out of prison and aiming to reclaim  his throne, and this trailer gives us hints of some of the pawns he will be using to make that happen. 

    Hey look, it’s Rosalie Carbone!

    And we’ve mentioned it before, because it’s been in a bunch of the promos, but it’s great to finally have Fisk in his comics-accurate white suit! He looks great. 

    We’re also finally getting Sister Maggie! In the comics, of course, Maggie is Matt’s long-lost mother. In the show, we know that she works at the orphanage where Matt ended up after Jack’s death, and that she will be providing him some degree of emotional support (not to mention medical help...) following his near-death experience under Midland Circle. Their relationship is very strange, and in the comics they’ve spent a long time trying to negotiate their dynamic. They go back and forth on their degree of emotional closeness (depending on the writer), and while they will likely never have a parent/child relationship in the traditional sense, they do hold deep significance in each other’s lives. Whether that will become true in the show remains to be seen, but at the very least, Maggie will clearly act as a confidante for Matt during this difficult time. 

    This is one of several highly intriguing interactions between Matt and Fisk in this trailer. The surveillance is particularly interesting. It ties into the suggestion later in the trailer that Fisk will develop some control over media surveillance (in the comics he buys his own radio station during Chichester’s run). It also gives me a small amount of hope that we might get expert media manipulator Jonathan Powers (AKA the Jester) in the show, because that would be really cool. But why is Matt in a doctor’s office in a suit? The framing of this scene is great, and I really need to know what’s going on here. 

    Matt channeling that Stick vibe is something I never knew I needed. And this is another intriguing interaction between these two. What is the context here? For now, I love how cocky Matt sounds in this clip. Clearly, his spirit has not been broken (yet?) by this point. 

    At NYCC, there was some mention of a scene that would rival the hallway scene from Season 1. This may be it. I’m already pumped about this, because I love when Matt fights in civvies! If I were to guess what was going on here, I’d assume these are prisoners in Fisk’s pocket who have been instructed to take Matt out. This has serious “Devil in Cell Block D” (a story arc in which Matt is sent to prison) vibes, and that is very exciting. Whether or not the actual story draws from that arc, just a reference to the tone or basic concept would be awesome. 

    After two full seasons of teasing, we’re finally getting a Gladiator origin! Back in our Season 2 countdown, I wrote a post detailing Melvin Potter’s story in the comics, hoping that it would be adapted soon. The show has already laid down several key elements of his character: his vulnerability (particularly in regards to being manipulated by the people around him) and the tug-of-war between his gentle nature and his capacity for violence. In the comics, many of Melvin’s most compelling stories cover this struggle, as Matt and Betsy Beatty (Melvin’s social worker-turned-girlfriend) attempt to help him suppress the dangerous, out-of-control side of himself. As we see later in the trailer, Fisk is going to start using Melvin for his own ends again this season, thus pushing him to protect himself and Betsy by becoming the Gladiator. 

    Yet another oddly candid moment between Matt and Fisk. This is so uncanny that I almost wonder if it’s a hallucination. It’s also worth noting Matt’s lack of sunglasses in these scenes. In both the comics and the show, the glasses serve Matt as a type of mask, and his scenes are given an added layer of intimacy and exposure when he takes them off. Regardless of context, it’s clear that Fisk will be seeing Matt this season at his most vulnerable, with all facades and pretext removed. Which brings us to that quote... 

    Get excited, because it looks like we’re finally getting some big deal Daredevil Secret Identity Shenanigans(TM)! Matt having his secret identity exposed is a longtime Daredevil tradition; such a pervasive plot point that even Matt has begun joking about it. 

Daredevil vol. 3 #7 by Mark Waid, Paolo Rivera, and Javier Rodriguez

    Going all the way back to the Mike Murdock Saga in the 60s, Matt has struggled with keeping his double life hidden-- a surprisingly challenging task for a blind guy without outwardly obvious superpowers. Ben Urich figured it out through research and deduction, and while he has remained loyal in keeping Matt’s secret, a fellow reporter once nearly stole his notes and made them public. In “Born Again”, the Kingpin found out and used the information to ruin his life. Later, one of the Kingpin’s underlings sold the information to the FBI, which then made its way into the newspapers. Recently, with his secrets being used as blackmail, Matt decided to make his identity public. He has gone to extreme lengths over the years-- faking his death, lying under oath, creating various alternate personalities-- to protect his dual identity, and the thought of seeing him finally faced with this same challenge in the show is very exciting.

Melvin: “I don’t like it. I know who you work for, Felix. And the Kingpin is never up to anything good.”

Felix: “What is there not to like, Potter? You construct costumes. I am heretowith commissioning from yourself a costume. Said costume being one you are infinitely familiar with-- during such time frame as before you did renunciate your status as a prominent member of the criminal class to open this shop within which we now converse. Speaking of this most neatly custodiated establishment, we will summarily execute its premature demolition-- not to mention the removement [sic] of your most valued body parts-- should you perchance fail to render unto us a perfect duplicate of the uniform of a certain Man Without Fear.”

Daredevil vol. 1 #230 by Frank Miller, David Mazzucchelli, and Christie Scheele

    As we know, that’s going to be Bullseye’s costume. This is a combination of two plot points: one from “Born Again” (above) in which Fisk commissions a DD suit from Melvin to give to a convicted murderer, who he sends to kill Foggy, and one from Nocenti’s run in which Bullseye himself runs around causing chaos as Daredevil. 

    As indicated above (and just like he attempted in Season 1), Fisk is out to ruin Daredevil (and maaaaybe also Matt Murdock?)’s reputation, even more than Matt might manage all on his own.   

    This is a terrifying image, because it brings to mind Karen’s funeral in “Guardian Devil”. But a bunch of the people in the audience are smiling, so hopefully not...  

    ...Unfortunately, they’re still screwed. Bullseye in the church is both a “Guardian Devil” reference and (even better) a movie reference!

    We were shown this scene at NYCC, and it is awesome! I can’t wait for everyone to see it, so that I can talk about what makes it so great. It’s an absolutely killer fight scene that emphasizes just how intense Bullseye is as an opponent when handled well. And I’m not going to spoil this moment in particular... All I’ll say is that it’s something we’ve all been waiting for for two damn seasons, and when it happened at the panel, the whole room screamed. 

    *Cough* Don’t worry, that’s not Bullseye. 

    Also, there is not nearly enough Foggy and Karen in this trailer. 

Bullseye: “Yup! I’m Daredevil now. I wonder-- it’s been easy to play the bad guy-- maybe too easy. Be kinda fun to play the hero. After all, I am Daredevil!”

Daredevil vol. 1 #290 by Ann Nocenti, Kieron Dwyer, and Steve Buccellato

    As mentioned above, Bullseye will be prompted by Fisk to run around as Daredevil, ruining Matt’s reputation. Both actors have talked a little bit about Fisk’s manipulation of Dex, and the fact that this will play a large part in the latter’s turn to villainy. In the final arc of her run, Ann Nocenti penned a story in which Bullseye and Daredevil switched costumes, resulting in an intense exploration of villainy and heroism, and of their bizarre relationship as nemeses. In the show, it should be fun-- and probably a little horrifying too-- to see how this jumbling of identities affects how Matt and Dex see themselves and each other. 

    T-minus one week!

[hotsterfield]

Guardian “angel” - pt. 1 - P.P.

Word count: 1901

Resume: When you are born, you are assigned a guardian angel, and you have that angel for the rest of your life, no matter what happens to the angel. Even if they kicked out of heaven, which is exactly what just happened to Peter Parker’s guardian.

Masterlist | Promptlist

A/N:  My new series!! I’m so excited to share this with you, and I’m really looking forward to hearing what you guys think! The first part is a bit short, but hopefully the next part will get a bit longer. I do have a bit of a writer’s block at the moment, so writing the requests is taking a bit longer. But yeah, hopefully that’ll be over soon. If you want to be added to the taglist, just let me know!

Peter let out a frustrated sigh as he walked into his room. He didn’t know what to do. He was invited to a frat party, and he really wanted to go, but he had also promised aunt May then he would have dinner with her tonight.

“If I go home to Aunt May, I’ll miss the party. If I miss the party, Aunt May will get upset” He said to himself.

“Go to the party, you dumbass. May will understand. You’re at college, you’re supposed to get drunk” You said casually from the bed. Peter jumped, and looked at you surprised.

“Who the hell are you?! And why are you in my room?!” He said chocked. He didn’t have a clue to who you were, and he didn’t exactly find it comforting that you were just sitting on his bed. His!  door had been locked. The windows were closed, so how had you even gotten in?

“Oh right! You don’t know me, but I know you, and you need to have some fun. Do you have any idea how boring your life is? The Spider-Man part kinda makes up for it, but even with the superhero thing, you’re still so boring!” You said, as you left the bed. It was strange finally talking to a human.

“I-what? I’m not… him. I’m not Spider-Man! Who are you?! This is pretty creepy. How did you even get in here?! WHO ARE YOU?!” He yelled, looking rather panicked.

“Oh, calm down. I’m Y/n. Your very own guardian angel. Every human gets a guardian angel when they’re born, and you are stuck with that angel for the rest of your life. So, you’re stuck with me” You smiled, as he just started to look confused.

“What are you talking about? Guardian angel? Are you serious?” He asked, not believing a word you said, which caused you to roll yours eyes at him.

“Yes. So I’ve been keeping an eye on you, your whole life, which has been really boring. So I know everything. I know how attached you are to your aunt, especially after your uncle died. I know how you were stupid enough to get bitten by a spider. I know how long you spent admiring your abs, after you got your superpowers. I know that for a moment, you were a bit turned on by your reflection. I know you had a crush on MJ, that you always regret doing anything about. Do I need to continue, or do you get the point?”

“No. You can just stop now. Point proven” He quickly said, a slight blush rising in his cheeks. “What… Why does no one know about angels? Why don’t you just talk to people?”

“Because we’re not allowed to talk to humans. It’s the most important rule, and you get stopped every time you try. You used to be able to talk to your human, once in their life, usually in a time of crisis, but for some reason, which I was totally not a part of, you can no longer do that. So over angels stop you every time you try, so” You explained.

“Then how are you talking to me?” He asked, raising his eyebrows.

“Right. The rules apply to guardian ANGELS. Technically, I am no longer an angel, so the rules don’t really apply to me, anymore. I am still your guardian, just not an angel” From you were born, you knew you wouldn’t stay an angel forever. That was simply just not possible for you.

“How do you stop being an angel? Does this mean that you’re really bad at your job? Should I be worried?” He asked, sitting down on the floor.

“I am very good at my job! I never broke any rules, and I’ve always been very good at protecting my humans. Almost none of them got killed. Some died, because they were stupid, but there was nothing I could do about that. I just got kicked out”

“If you didn’t break any rules, then why did they kick you out?” He pressed on.

“Well, I am not a full blood angel. My mother is Hela, ruler of Hell, which according to Christians makes me part devil. So I read the whole rule book, and I kinda tried to see how much I could get away with. There was a lot of grey areas, that no one had discovered. When I did something, they would often make a rule afterwards, so no one else did it. Then after 99 rules, I guess they had enough. They made a rule, about being reason for 100 rules get you kicked out. So here I am!” You explained. You were proud of the rules, but the being kicked out part wasn’t too great. You still hadn’t told your family, and you knew they wouldn’t be too pleased.

“You’re kidding me, right?”

“Nope. I had a lot of fun though, so it was totally worth it”

“Of course. You were telling me to ditch my aunt, and go get drunk, when it’s actually illegal for me to drink. I wonder why you got kicked out” He said sarcastically, finally coming to sense with everything.

“I’m your guardian, not your conscience. And as your guardian, I always know what you want, and I know you want to go to the party. So, stop thinking about what everyone else wants, and start doing what you want. Do you have any idea how long, I’ve wanted to tell you that? You spend your life saving people, you can do something for yourself sometimes” Sometimes it had annoyed you, how good a person he is.

“Aunt May will get upset if a cancel”

“No, she won’t. She wants you to have fun! She wants you to live like a normal college student. That includes going to parties, and maybe even getting into a fraternity”

“And you’re sure about this?” He asked, still needing to be convinced.

“Yes. And before you ask again, yes. Just call her, and tell her you’re going to a party. While you do that, I’ll buy some alcohol, so you don’t show up to a party sober. And while you’re at it. Get dressed for a party” You said, leaving before he could say no.

***

“Y/n! I’m so glad you told me to go!” Peter said loudly. He could hardly stand up straight, but he was still speaking clearly.

“That’s great Peter. Now instead of following me around like a lost puppy, why don’t you find a nice girl and talk to her?” You had been at the party for 2 hours, and not once had he left your side. He kept getting drunker, and slightly more annoying as the time passed.

“I’m not good at that. Talking to girls. Or people in general. Especially girl. I don’t know what to say, so I just stutter and it gets really awkward” He argued.

“I know, but that’s when you’re sober. Just take a chance, for once in your life” You begged, as eyes looked for girl to leave him with. Someone who was a bit drunker than him, but not completely wasted. Someone who looked like they were a nice person, because that would properly be important to Peter.

“But what am I supposed to do? Just walk up to a girl, and start talking. I don’t know how to flirt with people” He continued, as you found the perfect girl.

She was sitting alone on the couch, looking a bit uncomfortable. She had short brown hair, and a cute face. She looked nice, and most importantly. She looked like one of those people, who had been dragged to the party by one of their friends, who had assured her they would stay together all night, but after an hour, said friend had left her alone, because said friend had found some hot guy.

“Compliment her. Then ask her about something really common. A TV show, a movie. Hell, ask her what she thinks about Spider-Man, or some other avenger. Just something. And then you just talk, and maybe even lean a little, and if you’re really going for it. You kiss her” You said. “Now, go talk to the brunette on the couch”

Before he could answer, you gave him a gentle push, sending him on his way towards the girl. You kept standing in the middle of the crowd, keeping an eye on him. You just wanted to make sure everything went okay. When they started talking together, and you saw a smile on the girl’s face, you decided that it was going okay for him.

You went back to the kitchen, to get another drink. You had been drinking more than anyone here, but it was hardly affecting you. Human alcohol didn’t really effect you that much, so you could keep drinking, and always stay close to sober.

“Hi there. I don’t remember seeing you around campus, and I’m pretty sure I would remember a face as gorgeous as yours” A voice said, making you turn around. The voice belonged to a good-looking guy, who was eyeing you up and down.

“A friend invited me, and since I do love a great party. Well, here I am” You smiled at him, and carefully biting your lip, as you started walking towards him.

“I’m glad you are. You made the entire party hotter” He said, while sending a wink. You kept walking closer to him, making him back up against the wall.

“Oh yeah?” You said flirtatiously, as your face got really close to the guy. The tension between you growing fast, and you were close enough to feel his hot breath. “Too bad I’m not interested” You said, as you walked away from him.

You went back to check up on Peter, leaving the guy standing alone. Peter was still talking to the girl, and they were sitting a bit closer than before. You noticed that Peter was starting to lean in, and the girl quickly took the hint. Their kiss didn’t last long, but this was still a big step for Peter.

Just as the kiss had ended, Peter threw up. The amount of alcohol he had consumed, was too much for him to handle, and his body had decided that this was the perfect moment. The whole scenario was so entreating to you, so you couldn’t help but laugh.

You still hurried to his side, and apologized to the unfortunate girl, before helping him out of the house. He, of course didn’t want to go, but you were much stronger than him. There was no way you were leaving him at the party like that. He would only make a fool of himself. Scratch that, a bigger fool of himself.

As you walked back to his apartment, which was only a 15 minutes’ walk, he managed to throw up two more times.

“I don’t want to go to bed! I’m not even tired!” He said, stumbling over the words. He couldn’t stand by himself, so you had to keep supporting him.

“Too bad, Spiderboy.  Just lay down on the bed, and I’ll get you a bucket” You said, as you dropped his body on the bed. When you returned to his room, he was already passed out. So much for not being tired.

“Well Spiderboy. Who knew you could actually be interesting”

 TAGLIST

@augurydemon @rock-n-roll-queens @m-sterre @exclusively-inclusive @@rock-n-roll-queens @m-sterre @exclusively-inclusive @behxndthemask @andreuskystuff

[wrendeavor]

!!! I need help! I want to start writing a fic,,, , , do you have any advice in regards to keeping up with it and avoiding writers block? How would I properly plan it out??

Ooh okay I got really into answering this so answer is under the “keep reading”!

The hardest part of writing, spoiler alert, is starting

I have a really hard time getting new chapters of my fic out largely because even though I know it only takes me a few days to write and edit a new chapter, the thought of beginning that process is scary. every. single. time.

Unfortunately it’s a pretty unavoidable part of writing so here’s how I suggest facing it!

Know the beginning and the end! The middle will happen as it needs to! Some general plot points are helpful but sit down and write towards the finish line and let your characters figure out how to get there on their own! Writing requires a lot of improvisation and for me at least, a strict outline restricts my options. Know what you want to happen through the course of the story and then imagine what scenes are necessary, and what scenes might lead to the necessary scenes, and so on and so forth

ie: If you want to write about Bill and Ted baking a birthday cake, maybe we need to see them learn about the birthday, go grocery shopping, and then bake it. This is a super simplified version, but for most narratives, we need to see characters learn information, react to it, and then see the aftermath. Break down each plot point into each of these components

keep in mind that they don’t need to be treated equally in the story either. Maybe you write several thousand words of Bill and Ted arguing over cake flavors and oven temps and we see very little of the finished product they made, if at all. Regardless, all three components need to be there.

Another issue I had with my fanfiction writing for a really long time was that I never finished it. I’m a pretty busy and distracted person by nature, so I always thought that the best way I could share my work was if I wrote everything at once and then published it; I was worried people would be upset if they had to wait on my and my life for fanfic updates. 

Maybe this works for some people, but for me, the only reason I’ve been able to continuously (haha, does once a month count?) update SHGTG (my WIP fanfic) is because I feel some pressure that people are out there wanting to read it.

when the stories were alone and unfinished on my computer, it didn’t matter if they got endings because I knew the endings already, there was no risk and no reward. But posting that first chapter on AO3 meant I felt some responsibility to finish it so that all the great people who liked my fic could know the end as well.

I’m a major procrastinator, so I can’t finish things without this pressure.

At the same time however, don’t let it become a negative pressure. Do I feel guilty that SHGTG hasn’t updated in over a month? YES. Am I going to let that prevent me from going on dates with my girlfriend or doing my homework? Nope. Even though some pressure is good, a lot of pressure will just make writing even tougher. 

Next big thing:

Write when you want to write, not when you feel like you should be writing. I go weeks without touching my fic and then one afternoon I’ll write three thousand words in one go because I felt that energy for it again. Getting into the practice of writing often is a good habit but don’t let it become a chore.

That’s a lot of the reason I’ve been taking fun writing prompts in my inbox lately- it makes me write while still being fun and quick. No responsibility, and hopefully it will inspire me to go back to my story soon. 

Again, devil’s advocate here, the story isn’t going to write itself. While you’re waiting for inspiration to strike, write a list of things that would NEVER happen in the fic. Write a list of things that would make your characters look at things totally differently. Write a bunch of really bad first sentences. Think about the plot and the characters while you walk around town or shower. There are a lot of ways to work on a story that doesn’t require staring at a laptop screen in frustration for three hours 

I hope these help, It’s late here but I saw this ask and decided to spit out some thoughts, so my apologies if they’re unhelpful or repetitive or cliche in general

[yeaimfishboi]

Weaved to Light. Prologue: Devil’s Deal

Pairing: SehunxReader

Genre: Angst, Supernatural!AU, a lil fluff and horror maybe?

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: Foul language (which is found in every single one of my works), and the occasional amount of violence.

(moodboard done by me including the edits)

The stench of human flesh. He hasn’t been up here in ages, and to smell this repugnant aroma wasn’t helping at all. Of course having to pick a meat suit didn’t lessen the burning sensation in his nose. Humans were honestly a fetid species. He stood over a lifeless body.

Well at least the man wasn’t entirely dead, just brain dead. He had been since he was born. Sehun opted to pick this man as his vessel in lieu of one that still had a conscious. The less yapping within his head, more work that in turn gets done. Sehun only had one desire in his life and now he had a chance to make it happen. He just didn’t know it yet.

While walking to the rickety, abandoned house, Sehun was just uncomfortable in his new body. Being a human was itchy, smelly, and such a tight fit.

He entered the house and stepped on a creaky floorboard. “Ah, shit,” he muttered under his breath.

“Well hello there,” a macabre voice said, “trying to get the jump on me, were you?”

“You called me, so I’m here. What do you want?” Sehun said, trying to sound as trenchant as possible.

“I see your natural ways haven’t faltered.” the voice snickered.

“Laugh it up Chuckles. What do you want from me?” Sehun eyed around the entire house searching for what could be the cause of the voice. There was absolutely nothing there. No steps, no breathing, no nothing.

“You won’t find me just yet,” the voice blurted out, making Sehun jump in his place.

“Scared?”

“Nobody likes jump scares , asshole. Now I ask again, who are you?” Sehun demanded, straightening out his coat, and fixing his hair.

“First let’s discuss who you are,” it continued, “Sehun. Spawn of Azazel and Astaroth. The demons of war and lasciviousness. The only demon in the history of existence to be born a demon. You’ve never been an actual human, have you?”

“No, and I don’t care to become one.” Sehun responded callously.

“Really?” the voice chuckled again, seemingly amused, “I thought it was the one thing you wanted in your demon life.”

“With my powers, why would I want to be human? I have and an outstanding amount of strength, and I even have telekinesis. Why would I want to lose them? Because of them, I’m one of the most powerful demons to exist.”

“To possibly experience famine, thirst, malady and sleep. Emotions such as animosity, melancholy, contentment, elation, and maybe even… love?” Sehun cowered in his spot, “Bingo. Well I can make that happen.”

“This is, I guess, where we return to the question, who are you?” with every word of that sentence Sehun became steelier. He started pacing across the house searching every corner for this person or creature, but all while maintaining his icy demeanor. With every slow step Sehun became increasingly more agitated. “If you don’t show yourself soon, I’m just going to have to go back to hell now aren’t I?”

“Making deals, with me?” Sehun tried to take another step, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Except when Sehun took that step he couldn’t move but instead found that he couldn’t move.

“Devil’s trap,” he sighed, “you are good. I ask for the last time who are you?”

Poof.

“The name’s Hadraniel.” The man was of tall stature with a lean frame, but a strong disposition. He had chocolate eyes, and dark brown curly hair, as well as slightly floppy ears. When Hadraniel stepped forward Sehun noticed that some wings appeared.

“What do you want with me Angel vermin,” Sehun spat.

“Ouch.” Hadraniel responded snidely. “Your parents really taught you the demon way of life, huh?”

“I never knew my father. It was just my mother. She’s all I know and all I believe,” Sehun’s head sunk.

“Ooh, a little blind faith,” he smirked.

“You are one to talk about blind faith. Following around a father that probably isn’t even alive,” he scoffed.

“You’re right about that.” Hadraniel continued pacing around the devil’s trap, that had enclosed Sehun.

“Quit beating around the bush.”  Sehun drew out every word as if he was spewing venom. “What do you want from me?”

“A lot actually, but lots of that will come in due time, Oh Sehun.” Hadraniel elongated the last part of that sentence. “What I can start off with is, I want to make you human.”

“Why? Why would you want me to become human? A demon of all things. Can’t you just revive people or what ever it is you angels do?”

“For a demon who hasn’t surfaced in 40 years you certainly haven’t kept up on your studies.”

Sehun changed the subject as fast as possible. “How could I become human?” “Well that’s for me to know, and for you to find out.” Hadraniel paused, “All I can tell you is that I can make it happen at a cost.”

Again, Sehun scoffed. “What’s the catch?”

“Well becoming human is a progressive thing. You can become human little by little,” Hadraniel started, “so, I have conditions in order to keep making you human.” Sehun huffed at the thought of more than one condition. “The one you truly need to know is that, you need to work with a human.”

“What kind of work?” Sehun asked eminently interested.

“Hunting.” Hadraniel stated with a coy smile.

“You want me to shoot bambi, with a human?” He asked with utmost incredulity.

“Not Bambi, but monsters.” Hadraniel responded still smirking.

“Monsters?” Sehun again asked, but this time fairly inquisitive.

“Vampires, shapeshifters, ghosts, werewolves, and…” Hadraniel stopped himself.

“And?”

“And sometimes the occasional demon.” Hadraniel muttered, no pauses in between his words. “WHAT?” Sehun shouted.

“Umm, you may have to kill the occasional demon. It’s not like they accepted you anyways.”

“Just because I was different, and they hated me doesn’t mean that I am willing to kill them.”

“You technically don’t have to kill them. You could just exorcize them. Banish them from the human world.” Hadraniel continued trying to sway Sehun. “If you really want to be human, plus getting a little revenge may make you feel better.”

“Who would I have to work with?” Sehun pressed.

“Well, it’s a girl, and she knows what she’s doing.”

“And if I agree?” Sehun asked, giving into the angel’s words.

“I bring you to her.”

“Fine. I agree. I’ll work with her.” And within a split second they were in front of a motel door.

“Go on, knock.” Hadraniel said vanishing.

And so Sehun did.

A/N: The prologue is here!!! I’m so excited for this fic! special shoutout to @viparmytrash22, and @kpopstarsreact for all their help with this!! Also who do you think Hadraniel is and what role does he have on the story! Tell me!!! I know I’m still in the midst of a writer’s block but I’m trying my hardest!! Hopefully this suffices for the time being.

[chasingforeverandaday]

Stop the World & Melt with You: Chapter Six

Hey look! It's done! Yay! Sorry this took for-freaking-ever to get out, but I hope it was worth the wait. Thank you to everyone who has put up with this rollercoaster, you guys rock!

I apologize for the long absence of updates, but finals season sucks, so will be so glad when that's over next Thursday (for me at least). I then have three weeks before summer classes start up, so hopefully I'll have an update of don't trust the devil inside set to go soon. I also may decide to ignore studying for Business Law again, and it might pop up later this week.

Chapter Summary: Date night going off without a hitch seems a bit too good to be true...

Also on AO3

Lenore was at the office, leaning back in her chair with her feet up on the clean part of her desk, twirling a piece of hair around her finger. It was Friday afternoon, and she did not give a shit what anyone thought of her behavior. She had a date tonight.

“So, the plan is dinner at your place at seven, right?”

“The plans haven’t changed in the past two minutes Lenore.”

“Oh hush you. I swear I’m not purposefully being neurotic, I just want tonight to go perfectly.” Sighing, Lenore’s anxiety over the evening bubbled up again, leading her to sheepishly rush through the next question. “And we’re having?”

“We’re getting takeout from Mia Z’s, as previously agreed upon.”

“Sounds perfect, I don’t think we need the entirety of the New York Fire Department crashing a date, our friends seem do that enough all on their own. And remember-”

HG cut her off, rattling off Lenore’s favorite order by memory. “‘Fettuccine alfredo with grilled chicken and all the extra garlic, with a side salad and fresh breadsticks.’ Did I miss anything? I promise I am completely capable of planning a proper date Lenore, scout’s honor.” He paused, the rest of her comment coming back to him, before continuing indignantly, “And I am not that bad of a cook!”

“Please, you know you love the garlic. Whatever you end up with is also going to have a shit ton of garlic in it, we’re having Italian, it’s kind of a given. Hate to break it to you my dear Professor, but you got kicked out of the Boy Scouts. I do believe it was for setting three tents on fire, if I’m recollecting that lovely story correctly- ”

“-it’s not like there was anything in any of them! We had barely begun to set up camp!”

“You were twelve!”

“So? I’ve always been advanced for my age!”

“Okay, discontinuing that train of thought, you are so completely and utterly that bad of a cook. Baking, I will totally agree, you bake amazingly well. There is a reason you’re always in charge of dessert. But cooking? Nope, you suck at cooking.”

“Balderdash, cooking is incredibly difficult! Baking is easy, all you have to do is follow the directions and stick everything in the oven. One has to pay far more attention when cooking and make adjustments on the fly and I become distracted much too easily and then we end up with a mushy ball of spaghetti.”

“Relax, babe. I’m just teasing. I know enough to make sure we’d survive if all the takeout joints in the city suffered an untimely end, I promise.” Smiling softly to herself, she was about to keep poking at her boyfriend’s culinary ineptitude when her phone started to vibrate again. Pulling it away from her ear, Lenore glanced down at the caller ID. “Hang on, our favorite drama king is calling on the other line, I should probably grab that.”

“Alright, I’ll see you tonight, I love you.”

“Love you too Goggles. Okay, now I gotta go. Later gator!” Mentally floating on cloud nine, she hung up, switching over to the call from Oscar. Before she could even say hi, he started rambling.

“Lenore! Why on earth were you taking so long to answer your bloody phone? Nevermind, more important gossip is at stake. Did you hear about what just happened with Charlotte and Anton? Apparently, they were dating! Even though she was totally riding solo at the party for New Years! And making eyes at Ernest, which is just ick, I mean hello, it’s Ernest, I wouldn’t date him if you paid me. Not that Lottie dearest such a bloody prize herself! Plus, didn’t she used to have a thing for- oh nevermind, not important right now! Where was I? Oh, right, anyways, now she and Anton broke up! And she’s being cross with me, well, more of an uptight bitch with me than normal, in any case. Do you think that means he wants to hook up with me again? I mean, I know it was just a few times and it was months ago, but she’s acting so pissed at me, that has to be it, right?” Finally stopping for breath, Oscar sucked in a deep gasp of air, relieving his poor overworked lungs.

Rolling her eyes, Lenore adopted an overly perky tone and chirped obnoxiously, “Hello, Oscar, how are you? Oh I’m feeling fabulous, thanks so much for asking. Charlotte and Anton were secretly dating and then they broke up? Gasp, so scandalous!” For full effect, even if he couldn’t see her, she mockingly swooned back in her chair, hand to her forehead.

“You’re hilarious Lenore, truly hysterical. Now, I need your help,” he pronounced. Quite seriously, Oscar pondered, “Do you think ‘frenemies before men in my sheets’ would be an applicable motto here?”

Snorting loudly, she responded, “Babes, not actually a saying.”

“I don’t care in the least, it’s appropriate.” Oh good Lord, he actually sounded offended.

“You’re never appropriate.”

“True, oh well. We need to get dinner tonight, I must call a strategy meeting to determine if I’m allowed to go after that scrumptious hunk of man.”

Bolting upright, she braced herself for a long argument. “I can’t tonight Oscar. I have plans already.”

“What?”

“Plans, I have them.”

“Well cancel them, we need to have a council of war.”

“I am not canceling my date with HG again!”

“But-”

“Nope. Not happening. We are going on this date if I have to stick the rest of you in a padded cell for the duration of it.”

“Mean. Charlotte would murder me in minutes and I doubt you want to put your brother and Ernest together in a confined space, especially with Annabel.”

“The rest of you can buffer. And besides, Edgar has been surprisingly sedate in his celebrations after the breakup. I’ve only caught him dancing in the kitchen like twice. This week.” Thinking about it, Lenore added, “I’d honestly be more worried about him decking Ernest if he propositions her again. I do not need to deal with the hospital paperwork if he breaks his hand. Not that she can’t deal with the idiot on her own, but Edgar is feeling euphoric and white knight-like right now.”

“This is all hypothetical you know. You can’t actually lock all of your friends away just so you can get some.”

“Exactly, it’s all hypothetical so I have plausible deniability. Plus, I’ll have a foolproof alibi as of seven. Besides, this is not about getting some!” Realizing how loud she’d gotten, Lenore lowered her voice and tersely whispered, “Okay, not just about getting some, because trust me, that needs to happen too.”

Her friend burst into laughter over the phone, which was not helping his case, at all.

“Screw you, Oscar, I want to fucking jump my boyfriend alright, so fuck you. No, this is about the fact that HG and I haven’t been able to be alone for more than like half an hour without getting interrupted! I mean, seriously, we’re cursed! We haven’t had a complete date yet. And all of you suck, because our friends are like half the problem.”

“Calm your tits, Poe, you’re being ridiculous.”

“Am I though? Am I really? I needed to have surgery, nobody that we know is capable of knocking, the fucking computers broke, Annabel and Eddie broke up, and we made out in your closet. None of these things equal a date! Hell, none of those things even equal third base!” Chest heaving, Lenore realized she was way too worked up to get anything else done for the day. “Damnit, okay, I need to leave before I bite anyone’s head off.” Beginning her end of the day routine, she listened as Oscar spoke in his patented dial down the wonko voice, officially coined as such by Mary Anne during an extended episode of writer’s block.

“Okay, I have basically no idea what any of that means, because you’re acting more than a bit bonkers. And please don’t tell me you’ve decapitated anyone today, because I’m assuming life in the Big House puts a damper on the hotly anticipated sexy times with the boytoy.” Oscar rolled the last words, laced with so much innuendo that Lenore tripped and banged her head against the wall. Swearing at herself, she could just hear her friend’s trilling laugh before he continued.

“Just go and enjoy your date, I’ll keep the masses from descending, barring an actual emergency, in which case, you can bet your ass I’m calling you. There is no way in hell I’m dealing with one of those without someone else who could possibly be deemed a semi-rational adult.” Which was entirely reasonable, because the frequency at which their friends ended up in the hospital or overnight lock-up was borderline terrifying to think about.

“How exactly are you planning on doing so?”

She could see his habitual generous hand-waving in her head. “Don’t worry your pretty little head over it. Feel free to primp and pamper as needed, as I’m sure in my utter brilliance I can come up with some way to distract them for the whole night. As payment for such a wonderful good deed, I expect full details tomorrow at our strategy meeting, darling. Hmm, maybe we can do brunch.”

Finally realizing he was entirely serious about herding the cats, a grin broke out over Lenore’s face as she rushed to the elevator. “I’m going to hug you tomorrow, so freaking hard. Thanks Oscar, really. Thank you.”

“Oh quit gushing, you’ve stroked my ego enough. Now, I’d say let’s grab breakfast, but tomorrow’s Saturday, and I highly doubt you’ll be up anytime before eleven, so brunch seems necessary.” The wiggling eyebrows were practically audible through the phone. “And you are giving me all of the details. I’m in a dry spell here.”

By now, she was tapping her foot impatiently, waiting for the ground level button to light up. The easy banter was pleasantly distracting, but damn if she didn’t want to fast-forward a few hours. “And that guy you were hooking up with last week at the party was all a figment of my imagination?” That didn’t mean she couldn’t get Oscar back for all the earlier teasing.

Sniffing, Oscar corrected her haughtily,“A romantic dry spell bitch. I am having exactly as much sex as I want to be having, thank you very much. It’s the sappy romance part that’s lacking.”

Smirking, she cooed, “Aww, hook-up prince Oscar wants to be romanced.”

“You know I can invent all sorts of ways to crash your date, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Ding . Finally let out of the crushing mob leaving work, Lenore headed for the exit, then stopped short when she saw who was standing just inside the lobby. Switching direction, she grinned widely and cut off Oscar’s retort. “It appears my date has mysteriously arrived early to whisk me away from work, so I’m gonna go. Later Oscar. And thanks for the whole distracting everyone thing.”

Sighing, he replied melodramatically, “Fine, leave me and go be romanced and ravished by your wonderful boyfriend. Don’t forget to be safe and use protection!”

“I’m hanging up now!”

“Remember, all the details!”

“Goodbye Oscar!” Laughing, Lenore tossed her phone into her purse before running the last few steps and hurling herself into HG’s waiting arms. Nose buried in his scarf, she felt a sense of contentedness she hadn’t realized she was missing settle in. Glancing up through her eyelashes, Lenore pressed her lips to his cheek, cold from the January chill. “Hi.”

“Hello my dear Lenore.” Warmth pervading his tone, HG tilted her head upwards, kissing her gently once, twice before resting their foreheads together. “Apparently, I have been uttered useless and distracted all day. My assistant basically forced me out of the building, said that they could handle everything until Monday.” Tucking a loose curl behind her ear, he added, “I came straight here.”

“I’m glad you did, Oscar had to talk me off a cliff.” At his questioning glance, she shrugged. “Nothing bad, just want tonight to actually happen. He has agreed to amuse to children for the night, barring extreme circumstances.”

“How thoughtful of him.”

“I owe him brunch and gossip tomorrow.”

“Ah, so not entirely selfless.”

“Well, he wanted to grab dinner and figure out if he could hook up with Charlotte’s-”

Cutting her off, he rumbled, “Lenore, I could not possibly care less right now.” Still locked in his arms, Lenore found herself reeled in again, engaged in a heady, needy kiss. One of his hands grasping her braid, she felt every ounce of love and want poured into it, losing herself to the electrifying sensation and kindling desire that had been simmering for weeks, possibly months. Remembering where they were was difficult when HG seemed hellbound to erase any thought not of him, though Lenore’s remaining shreds of common sense reminded her they were bordering on the lines of inappropriate for public viewing. Determined to keep a level head, she abruptly pulled away, stopping his lips from chasing hers with a finger.

“Okay, hang on.” Undeterred by her attempted stern look, HG lightly kissed the finger still holding his lips back. Rolling her eyes, she removed it and tried not to giggle when he pouted. “Babe, not helping. We need to head back to your apartment, like now. I am not getting arrested for public indecency at work. Now let’s move. We can always call for Mia Z’s later.”

Placing a hand to his chin, he pretended to mull the idea over before holding out his elbow. “A sound plan. Shall we?”

Locking her arm with his, she smiled. “Oh, we shall.”

[nicolesqueloquence]

So it dawned on me.. yesterday. At dawn.

That there’s this cliche little conspiracy thing for us in our mid-20’s that 25 is THE worst age, ever.

And while I can attest to 2017 so far being more ambivalent in its extent of BS compared to others (2009, 2012, 2015?!!?!?)….

I have to say that I agree, and I can finally see the light at the end of the tunnel with 26.

Suddenly I saw the last ten years weave itself around my mind, counting all of the victories and tragedies and it made way too much sense.

Of course I’m lost right now, as any child byproduct of the dysfunctional American household is going to be. I’m a fucking millennial inheriting nothing but a broken economy and a bullseye painted on my back for everything from financial ruin, emotional self-destruction, and potential kidnapping to a terrorist attack, psychopath killer from my past, and potential Armageddon as we may know it soon.

I think, a lot of other people would feel pretty fucking lost, anxious, and depressed too.

And for the most part, I don’t feel that bad. Maybe it’s my meds zombifying me, maybe it’s just blind optimism because I’ve been too drained of the energy to feel anything stronger than that, or maybe since everything passes- that includes all the negative stuff too.

But I’m fine. I’m on my way to better. I’m almost there. For the first time, I kinda feel it.

26 sounds like a paradise, in fact. And I’m one that HATES getting older. HATES my birthday. I break down. I relapse. I turn into a human tornado of self-destruction. It’s bad, like Marilyn Monroe level of bad.

But not this year. I’m building an empire for myself, just like I have for the past ten years even if I keep breaking it down like the U.S. did to their own towers (oops).

What I did for myself in the midst of all the chaos and ruin was established myself as a writer. I found my words, or they found me, and then they found themselves on paper. Whether it was some mediocre essay project that my teachers inevitably A’d and hailed me for, or my Dragonball Z fanfiction that I still fuck with but with a lot of intermittent adult absences due to my grown up writer’s block from all the imagination that’s left me in my dry and cynical 20’s.

I also got published in both UNLV and my high school’s newspapers. Luckily these are the first things to come up with a google of my full name, and not any mug shots or crazy things like that because those things can stay in the MF past okay.

This is all while my parents divorced, my mom dated and remarried, and I got exiled to my dad’s place all the way across town to another high school- effectively killing the dead end that way my destructive social life at the other school, which was somewhat of a great thing and a terrible thing. I didn’t have people fueling my already turbulent home life with more drugs and alcohol, but then I didn’t have anybody at all either unless they existed in the chat room I dominated as a teenager.

Ahhhh, yes. I will always be proud of such a minuscule feat, with my social anxiety establishing itself and all, because I came up with the MOST LIT AF nicknames. Nikkachu, VenerealCereal, and my very first, Lovily_Lili17- my daughter’s name that I discovered at 13.

Oh yeah. That too. READING. I couldn’t stop. I was addicted to those huge adult novellas like Lace, Where the Heart Is, and anything Stephen King once I had my way with R.L. Stine and his many endeavors to placate his teen base.

Wow. The nostalgia. I can’t.

I still have almost every book from that era. I went and bought a ton of them off of Amazon, but I’ll have to replace some that arrived less than the library form that I originally read them in. I can’t do paperback, they’re much too small.

But that library smell.. My favourite is the one by my mother’s house, where I looked down at my Converse at 12 years old and realized that I was becoming a woman already.

HAHA. Seriously. 12. A woman. Okay.

That moment was just me feeling myself because I had a lot of older male fans that I’m quite sure held a rap sheet for child-related sex crimes, okay.

In that moment, I felt sheer power. My dying self-esteem that had wilted from years of verbal abuse and a total lack of male attention minus that of bullying was suddenly blossoming from the attention I would get from old men. It was exhilarating, and just as addictive as anything else I decided to get my all too curious hands on for the next decade.

At the end of this decade though, I can say I’m no longer phased by it. I get all kinds of attention now, and it’s more of a burden than it sounds like I’m making it. It comes from guys with whole entire relationships waiting for them at home and at work, guys who have kids already (ew), or guys I’m just not into. Period.

So I have a drought of a love life, but I knew this was coming once I recycled my ex’s as much as I could without anyone getting killed. It came close… LOL, but we’re all okay and we’re all separated thank God.

Everybody went their own way to something better, hopefully. Moreso hopefully for me once this drought is over and I can stop losing sleep with all of the PTSD I’ve mustered through the years with all the nightmarish shit I’ve put myself through.

I really went through the ringer, especially my early 20’s. Before I could even legally drink, I had charges. But that’s the territory, right? Being a human Tasmanian devil will do that to you. Having the most unstable self-image will put out a red flag to society that you are disposable, trouble, a force to be reckoned with, etc. So I don’t recommend it.

I’ve really calmed down though. Especially in the past few weeks. Normally after an event like the one I just suffered, I’d be halfway back to my early grave again just like countless times before. But I’m actually way more okay sooner than I thought. It only took a good 3 or 4-day binge of unhealthy, toxic, and intoxicating substances for me to snap into a depression and then somehow snap out of it completely averse to that stuff.

That’s how you know you’re adulting, when life knocks you over for the thousandth time and you just… lay there.

And I type all of this with a huge grin on my face, because it’s great. I can enjoy being sober and feeling like shit at the same time. I can enjoy going to the store at almost 11 o’clock at night for bagel bites and taquitos and feel accomplished for leaving my apartment for all of twenty minutes. I can enjoy binging YouTube, laughing at memes, and obsessing over current event stories in my favourite forum message board places.

So, I’ve moved into my phone. Big deal. My dopamine receptors have to be stimulated by something other than the sun blinding me through my window.

I will say I am neglecting the Tindr app for my own sanity. I think last time I tried to venture it, I got a really fussy man-baby throwing a fit over my very delayed and very mundane response. Okay. That was that, then.

I have a feeling that I can’t rely on electronics for this one. It’s going to have to be some sort of divine intervention to get my love life back on track. I really won’t settle for less, either, because we don’t have the technology advanced enough yet to weed out the assholes, the fuckboys, and the lazy have-nots that I simply can’t build anything with.

There’s always med school. Some very savvy ladies attend just so they can enter the meat market of medicine and date an up and coming doctor. I know I would. Medical terms during foreplay? Needles and a papoose during roleplay? Hell yes.

Okay maybe not anything with phlebotomy but you catch my drift. I think overall, even if they don’t share all the same quirky interests of mine, I would just want someone who is in love with me and stays in love with me. Even if I can’t stay in love with myself.

But I’m trying. This is me trying. This is me giving myself a fucking break because the last ten years have kinda sucked, right? On and off. Sure. But it doesn’t matter. All of the friendships, the relationships, the scandals, the stories.. My God, do I have a story.

I want to publish it, but not in its raw form of pure sugar and salt just piled up in the middle of the table. I want it to be in the form of fiction, set in outer space, in the dark corners of an emotionally dysregulated teenage girl’s mind…

Yep. I got the ideas spinning in my head and everything, it just won’t form a tangible shape.

And it won’t make any money because I’m fucking insane and no one will get it: the big picture, the metaphor, what actually went down.

So I have to make it make money and make sense. Two very difficult things in a day and age where something as basic as Fifty Shades of Grey is hailed as top-notch. Wtf.

At least Twilight is over, thankfully.

And finally my last contribution to this planet and this life of mine in the past ten years is…

BUTTONS.

Yes, my cat. Why?

Because I adopted the most beautiful, loving, playful, and stubborn salt-loving creature on this planet.

So even if I died right here, today, this second.. I will have known true, unconditional love just because of him.

And even if it’s single chick cliche AF… I adore him to death.

So there’s that.

Looking forward to the next 6 months coming and going by so I can be a whole year older, and a whole lot wiser with a lot more laidback to me than before.

But so far, enjoying the ride at 25… (and a half).

Thanks for reading a random rant of mine again! :)

Nostalgic ramblings & revelations about being 25.5 on the way to 26, and much much better. So it dawned on me.. yesterday. At dawn. That there's this cliche little conspiracy thing for us in our mid-20's that 25 is THE worst age, ever.