#you like music but you don’t have a favourite?

[muniimyg]

⋆꙳•❅ myg: true love ❆•꙳

in which you bring your boyfriend home to meet the entire family for the first time; aunts, uncles, cousins, nieces and nephews—everyone. only for them to fall in love with him almost as much as you have. in their excitement, they take all of yoonig's attention—leaving you all sulky and annoyed like the grinch

series m.list // taglist

note: lol ... idk (again)

warning: exhibition kink (they get caught... kinda)/corruption kink, kitchen sex, food play (yoongi licks/sucks cookie dough off her titties), standing/carrying position, doggy, dirty talk, ass slapping, yoongi cums on her face

//

you didn’t see this coming. 

yet, it’s not like you expected this to be a disaster.

the laughter in the living room feels like a distant hum, the chatter of your family’s voices weaving together like a fanbase at their favourite artist's concert. yoongi is at the center of it all, effortlessly charming your relatives, cracking jokes, and sharing stories. his confidence has your aunties cackling, and even your dad—who rarely laughs at anyone’s jokes—has a grin tugging at his lips.

it’s like they’ve known him for years, and you watch, your heart swelling with pride but tightening all at once.

as the day drifts on, yoongi’s laughter fills the house, a constant undercurrent to the flow of conversation. but with every minute that passes, you feel further and further away from him.

he’s a crowd pleaser—so naturally, everyone’s drawn to him. 

your mom asks him about his music, your cousin insists on showing him her latest dance moves, your brother talks to him about his gaming setup, and your nieces and nephews hang off his every word like he’s the coolest person in the world.

it should feel good, watching him shine. 

but it doesn’t.

it feels awful. it feels dark and annoying. it feels… not very merry.

not when he’s not looking your way.

not when he hasn’t even noticed how your heart sinks a little more whenever someone else steals his attention.

it should be yours.

by the time the house quiets, everyone finally settling into their rooms to sleep, you find yourself alone in the kitchen, the soft glow of the overhead lights casting long shadows on the countertops.

you should feel relieved. 

you should be happy he’s fitting in so well with your family. but instead, you’re pulling flour and sugar from the pantry, your fingers moving mechanically as you mix the ingredients for cookies.

it’s a way to pass the time, a way to keep your hands busy so they don’t shake from all the fucking jealousy. 

you sigh, glancing at the clock. 

it’s late, and he’s still not back.

the truth is, he’s probably helping your brother with the kids. but why can’t you stop yourself from thinking about it so bitterly? he rather help your brother put his kids down than to be  scraping dough into perfect little balls and placing them on the tray with you? you try to push the feeling of abandonment away, but it keeps pressing in, an ache in your chest that only grows with each passing second.

“i’m gonna break up with him,” you murmur under your breath, your heart tightening when you realize how badly you want him beside you. “next christmas.”

you hear the soft thud of footsteps behind you, and for a second, you think it’s just your tired mind playing tricks. but then you feel it—his presence.

he leans against the doorframe, his eyes dark in the low light, a frown pulling at his lips when he notices you.

“you’re still up?” he asks, his voice rough like he’s just woken up from a deep sleep.

“yeah,” you reply, your voice a little too sharp. “baking.”

he steps into the kitchen, his gaze never leaving you. his movements are slow, deliberate, and when he finally reaches you, he doesn’t say anything else. he just wraps his arms around your waist from behind, his chin settling gently on your shoulder.

his breath is warm against your neck, and you almost want to pull away, the tension in the air thickening the closer he gets.

“what are you making?” he asks, his voice quiet now, almost teasing.

“cookies,” you mutter, trying to focus on the tray in front of you. you move the cookies to the cooling rack, but you’re aware of his every move behind you. “for santa.”

“not for me?”

“ask literally anyone else in my family to make you cookies. i’m sure they’d love to feed one to you too.”

his fingers brush lightly against your arms, just enough to send a shiver down your spine.

“hey,” he says, his voice softer now, like he’s sensing something isn’t right. his lips press gently to your neck, his breath warm against your skin. “what’s wrong?”

you swallow, your throat tight as you try to keep your voice steady. 

“nothing.”

he pulls back slightly, just enough to catch a glimpse of your face, his expression concerned but unreadable. 

“did i do something?”

your chest tightens. 

the tears sting the back of your eyes, and you feel that lump form in your throat again. you try to force the words out, but they catch in your chest.

“it’s nothing. sorry, i know i have an attitude right now. go to bed. i’m gonna finish up here—”

“no,” he states. “tell me what’s going on, baby.”

you hesitate. 

then, you give in.

why should you hide it anyway? you know him. he won’t let you go until he knows what’s going on in your head and until it’s resolved enough for him to feel some sense of peace. yoongi can’t go to bed if you’re upset. 

“it’s just… everyone was… you were with them all day, and i just—” you break off, feeling the words slipping from you now. “i just felt like you forgot about me. like you were… everywhere but here. and i don’t know why it feels like this, yoongi. i don’t know why it annoys me so much. i’m so glad everyone loves you—but hello? i love you too. why’d you have to ditch me all day? it’s christmas in 20 minutes and this is the longest we’ve talked all day.”

you’re near tears, your voice cracking with the weight of it.

his arms tighten around you, pulling you back against him, his chest warm against your back. you close your eyes, leaning into the comfort of his touch, but the ache in your chest doesn’t fade.

“i’m sorry,” he whispers, pressing his forehead to your neck. “i didn’t mean to make you feel that way. i got caught up. i didn’t realize i was leaving you out.”

his voice is low and thick with something you can’t place, and when he tilts your head to face him, the look in his eyes makes your breath hitch.

“you’re all i want, okay?” he murmurs, his thumb brushing over your cheek, wiping away the first tear that escapes. “just you. i was getting along and getting to know them for you. you know that, right?”

“i do,” you sigh. “i’m mad at myself too. i don’t know why i’m so greedy when it comes to you… but i can’t help it.”

he leans in slowly, his lips brushing against yours, gentle at first, before deepening the kiss, pulling you closer, if that was even possible.

the world outside the kitchen melts away, leaving only the sound of your heartbeat, his breath, and the weight of the moment.

“that’s okay,” yoongi comforts you. “i’d feel the same if our positions were switched.”

“really?”

“absolutely,” he chuckles. “i don’t think i ever told you this… but that day you met all my friends and kept laughing at jin’s jokes? i went boxing with jungkook the next day to get all the anger out of my system.”

your eyes widen. 

“you went boxing?” 

“yeah.”

“that’s really hot,” you deadpan. “show me proof.”

he smirks. “why? does it turn you on?”

you scoff at him. 

“duh.”

yoongi’s smirk lingers, like he knows exactly what’s happening to your heart rate right now, but he doesn’t give you a chance to protest. 

in one smooth motion, he pulls you into him, lifting you effortlessly and placing you onto the kitchen counter. the cold surface of the counter sends a shiver through your body, but the heat radiating from him—his hands on your waist, his body pressed against yours—quickly warms you.

he leans in, his lips brushing over your ear as he teases, “you’re like the grinch when you're jealous, you know.”

you pull back slightly, glaring at him. “the grinch?”

“yeah,” he chuckles softly, his hand slipping to the back of your neck, pulling you in for a slow, teasing kiss that leaves your lips tingling. then, he places his hand on top of your left breast. he squeezes it and chuckles; “hey… your heart’s about to grow three sizes... i can feel it.”

you roll your eyes, but you can’t suppress the smile tugging at your lips. 

“you’re unbelievable.”

“oh, i know,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your jawline before dipping down to place soft, lingering kisses along your neck. “but don’t worry. i think i like my grinchy little girlfriend.”

his breath is warm on your skin, his hands sliding under your shirt to feel the smoothness of your skin. you shiver again, not from the cold this time.

“you’re annoying,” you mutter, but it’s hard to keep the edge in your voice when his touch has your mind scrambled. “and i’m still irritated.”

“i know,” he says, a low chuckle vibrating against your skin. “but if it’s any consolation, i think you’re pretty damn cute when you’re all possessive.”

“i’m not possessive,” you argue, even as your heart beats faster, as you shift a little on the counter.

“uh-huh,” he smirks, his lips brushing over yours in a quick kiss. “that’s not what it looks like.”

you glare at him, half annoyed, half amused. 

“you’re the one teasing me about it.”

“true,” he says, his gaze turning playful, his thumb running over the curve of your waist. “but i think i’d let you get away with anything, even if you did steal my presents or throw snowballs at my friends.”

“you’re pushing it,” you warn, but there’s no real heat in your words, not when he’s looking at you like that—like he knows exactly how to push your buttons and make you melt all at once.

he leans in, his lips brushing yours again, this time slower, the kiss deepening in a way that makes everything else in the world seem irrelevant. you press into him, hands sliding up to his neck, your fingers threading into his hair.

“maybe i should keep pushing,” he murmurs against your lips, his voice low and husky. “i’ll make it worth your while.”

you pull back, breathless, meeting his eyes with a mix of amusement and desire. 

“you’re insufferable.”

“and completely yours.”

you huff at him. “shut up.”

he just grins, his hands resting on your thighs, pulling you closer until your lips are just an inch away. “you know you love it,” he teases, kissing you again, slow and teasing.

“i might,” you admit, your voice barely a whisper against his lips, “but i’m still the grinch.”

“yeah, you are,” he agrees with a smile, his lips brushing your cheek. “but you’re my grinch.”

you sigh, shaking your head. 

“you’re lucky i love you.”

“i know,” he says, his tone smug, his hands sliding down to your hips as he pulls you even closer. “i’m very lucky.”

yoongi knows how to handle you. 

you and your attitude. 

he knows just how to kiss you and how to fuck the grinch in you away. 

but, like he said; he doesn’t mind it. he loves it when you get possessive. he loves it when you sulk. he loves it when you react the way you do because it reminds him that you have real and big feelings for him. 

“miss my cock, huh?” he hums in your ear, as he spreads your legs. 

you’re still sitting on the kitchen countertop. yoongi stands in between your legs and he’s pushing your panties to the side. before you can answer, he spits on his cock and shoves it inside your tight pussy. 

“m-mhmm,” you moan, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

he moves closer to you, biting your shoulder. 

yoongi begins to thrust in and out of you. he fucks you, panting in your ear as he goes. 

“f-fuck,” he grunts. “so tight. is that why you’re being such a bitch, baby? needed to cum all day? should’ve just pulled me aside.”

you moan. 

“f-fuck me where? in my childhood bedroom? you’d love that, wouldn’t you?” you mutter. “you and your corruption kink. w-what now? you’re fucking me in my family kitchen… what if they come downstairs? all your hard work of trying to impress them will go to waste when they see you fucking me like this.”

he hisses. “like what? like you’re a dirty slut? aren’t you, though? took you like 5 seconds to get wet the minute i fingered you.” 

you huff at him. 

“so w-what? nnghh, you’re fucking me and acting l-like—oh my g-god—like you don’t love this.” 

he bites your shoulder. 

“i do love this,” he admits. “i love you.”

"love you too."

as yoongi fucks you, you begin to moan a little too loud. before you know it, he covers your mouth with his hand and scolds you to shut the fuck up. 

then, when you quiet, he turns to the side and eyes your cookie dough. he scoops a bit with his fingers before spreading it over your tits. he leaves a plop of it on your nipple. you giggle from the texture and because you know what’s to come. 

yoongi dips his head low and begins to lick the cookie dough off. 

he sucks your nipple, taking his time. as he swallows, he moans from the sweetness. your fingers get lost in his hair. you throw your head back from the sensation—the warmth of his tongue against your nipples, the way he tightens his lips and tugs at them… everything. he’s so good at this.

he’s so good with your body. 

“delicious, baby…”

“yeah?”

he kisses you. 

as he kisses you, he lifts you up. keeping his cock inside you, you wrap your legs and arms around him, helping him carry your weight. yoongi is strong, has always been… he loves this shit. 

yoongi thrusts and you help by meeting him halfway. you pull yourself up and down. you bounce and he grunts from how hard your bodies slam into each other. as he rides the high, he places you back on the countertop. he lifts your leg and puts one over his shoulder. 

with a clear view of your pussy, he uses his other hand to play with your clit. 

“ohh..” you whimper. “y-yoongi…”

you feel every curve of his cock inside you. as it throbs, your walls tighten and he feels it. it excites him. 

“you like doing this to me?” you moan. “you like fucking me like this, baby? you like fucking me while my entire family is asleep upstairs? are you sick in the fucking head? you want them to find us like this, don’t you?”

“shut up,” yoongi grunts. “fucking naughty girl… you deserve this.”

“yeah?” you ask sweetly. “i guess that’s true… but you’ve been mean to me all day. i think i deserve you like this. deep and on the verge of being caught. maybe they should find us. that way they can hate you a little. maybe they’ll think you’re disgusting for fucking their precious ___ in the kitchen—”

“shut. up.”

yoongi then pulls himself out and grabs you by the waist. he puts you down, roughly turning you over. he then shoves his dick back inside you, hitting you from behind. 

he slaps your ass and you let out a whimper. 

“they’re gonna wake up,” you tease him. “slap my ass again, baby. i’ll scream and they’ll come running down—”

“___, i swear to god—”

“fuck me harder, daddy.”

yoongi loses his mind. 

he slaps your add and grabs your neck. he tightens his grip around it as he fucks you. he fucks you sloppy and fast. he’s lost in his own world of pleasure, not giving a fuck if it’s too much for you. 

it’s not. 

you love it.

he fucks you hard, rough, and fast. 

as he reaches his climax, he pulls out and pushes you down. you follow and get on your knees. 

yoongi cums on your face. 

he lets out a shaky moan as he pumps himself. you stick your tongue out, waiting for the very last drop. just as you’re about to swallow—

“yoongi?”

yoongi’s head snaps towards the bottom of the staircase. his eyes widen at the sight of your brother. he’s rubbing his eyes.

“s-shit… hey. what are you doing up?” yoongi clears his voice, trying to play it cool. he shifts his body, hiding you. it’s a good thing the kitchen lighting is dim enough to help hide you and that he has a robe on.

“just came downstairs to turn up the heat,” then, he peers over. “are you baking?”

yoongi chuckles. 

“___ is… she went to the washroom.”

your brother laughs. “did you guys get into a fight? she only bakes at this hour if she’s upset.”

yoongi laughs awkwardly. 

“think we’re all made up now.”

finally, after what feels like an eternity, your brother laughs one final time before bidding yoongi goodnight and merry christmas. still, yoongi holds his breath for a second, waiting for the sound of footsteps retreating. then, when he’s sure he’s alone, he lets out a quiet sigh of relief.

“holy fuck. that was too close,” he mutters under his breath, turning just enough to give you a look. his eyes meet yours and for a moment, there’s a flicker of something—maybe a little amusement, maybe a little guilt. 

yoongi’s hands hover for a moment before he helps you up, his fingers brushing over yours with a tenderness that surprises even him.

you stare at him, your eyes wide with amusement, and for a split second, it almost feels like time slows down.

he feels his chest tighten, his breath catching in his throat. his throat feels dry, like he’s trying to swallow down the guilt that’s suddenly creeping in.

then, out of nowhere, you burst into laughter. 

the sound is bright, full of life, and it hits him harder than he expected. his stomach twists, and for a moment, it’s like his heart stops. his face stiffens, eyes narrowing slightly, the feeling of almost being caught hanging heavy between you.

arms crossing over his chest in a defensive motion, but there’s a subtle shift in his posture too—a little hunched, shoulders tight, like he’s trying to hide the nerves still buzzing under his skin. he presses his lips together. 

“it’s not funny,” he says quietly. “i could've been kicked out. your family would have had very valid reasons to hate me.”

“relax,” you say, your voice soft, teasing, and then your lips are on his. "my brother is blind without his glasses."

the kiss is light, a quick peck that softens him, like a breath he didn’t realize he was holding in. he freezes for just a second, feeling the warmth of your lips, the way you fit against him. you pull back, your eyes meeting his, and there’s a softness there that he wasn’t expecting—something that makes him feel like maybe he doesn’t have to carry the weight of this on his own.

"still..." yoongi murmurs.

“they love you… and i’m grown.”

but still, he’s not entirely convinced. 

yoongi looks at you again, his expression softening, just the slightest hint of vulnerability flickering in his eyes.

“never letting you convince me to fuck you in a shared space ever again,” he mutters, voice still rough but softer, the playful tone slipping back into place. 

he doesn’t want to dwell on the mess.

he never does.

instead, he takes a step closer, letting his hand rest on the small of your back, pulling you closer as if to remind himself that no matter how much chaos there is, this—you—are his calm.

you're his one true love.

“it was easy, though,” you tease him. “you and your exhibition kink.”

he sighs. “i know, but—”

“they love you. i love you.”

yoongi’s gaze softens. 

“yeah?”

“yeah,” you say, as he kisses the top of your head. you look up at him and smile. “merry christmas, baby. let’s get to bed. i brought a santa hat for you to wear cos i want you to cum in my chimney.”

[apollo-just-ice]

10 people I’d like to get to know better

Tagged by @strix-x thank youuu :)

Last song: Calisto Yew’s theme from Ace Attorney Investigations 1. Listening to it as I type this, lol. From my Spotify Wrapped 2024 playlist :)

Favourite colour: don’t do this to me… many colours are beautiful… green, blue, pink, purple… thank you…

Last book: Still something I’ve gotta work on is reading more books. Last one I read was the Doctor Who Rogue novelization! That was enjoyable, I liked the extra scenes and backstory it added :)

Last movie: Uhhh hmm I don’t see movies all that often… I’m unsure, but by tomorrow the answer will be Wicked?

Last show: Dandadan season 1 finale… which, tbh, I hadn’t realized was the season finale until after I watched the episode lol! Very looking forward to season 2 tho :D

Sweet/spicy/savoury: Hmm probably savoury? Sweet is also good, tho I think there is definitely a thing as too sweet… and as for spicy? I like some spicy stuff even tho it may burn my mouth after loll

Relationship status: single as can be 😽✌️ alas

Last thing I googled: movie theatre tickets lol

Current obsession(s): Dandadan beloved omg… I haven’t watched a lot of anime, but I’m starting to! Grateful netflix recommended this to me lol, it’s so. It’s got everything you could ask for. Wacky, funny, has a lot of heart with the characters… great music… and maybe I’m a little bit of a sucker for high school students getting pulled into crazy adventures. Momo and Okarun are so cute too… sillies <3

Fire Emblem Heroes isn’t going anywhere for me… with Book 9 having a law theme, it excellently combines with my love for Ace Attorney, and I love Rune already!!

Then ofc Ace Attorney… had a blast playing the Investigations Collection, and I’m continuing to catch up (the timing is almost never right for me to watch live) on Mark Ota’s streams of TGAAC, which are always a ton of fun :D

Then I am also trying to now and then write stuff for my own ocs too… I don’t talk about them enough… but I love them very much, please do know <3 Maybe I show a bit of favouritism for Willow and Pyg, but hey, they are the main characters :3

People to tag: ack my least favourite part, I always fear I’ll forget someone!

@rosymaraschino (I want to return the favour, I appreciate it whenever you tag me in one of these kinds of things! :) )

@ actually anyone else, my mind is blank </3

[cannibalistickitty]

—HEAD IN THE

WALL—

୨୧ plot: you knew your boyfriend had trouble showing affection but did he even like you?

୨୧ warnings: angst, happy ending, ooc!megumi but IDGAF!!!!

୨୧ notes: help this has been rotting in my drafts for months anyways happy b-day megumi:3 here’s an angsty fic for y’all😇

you knew he loved you, maybe you hoped he did . it was fine that he couldn’t show his affection, that was okay . but sometimes you needed it . you were understanding, but when he gave a girl his number because she seemed “nice” you wanted reassurance, you wanted to feel it, feel and know that he loved you . megumi sat on the edge of your bed, you had been talking for about a half hour, every once and a while he would nod and give short responses, was he even listening to you? he wanted to keep your relationship a secret, you didn’t know why but he said it would just be for the best

the doorbell rang, you quickly opened the door to see nobara and yuji outside your house . you four had planned to go out and get lunch, megumi quickly put on his shoes, you had already been ready for an hour . now you were walking to the small cafe where you were gonna eat, today you felt brave, so you brushed your hand against megumi’s, trying to hold his hand . yet he just pulled away and went to catch up with nobara and yuji who were in front of you both, leaving you to walk alone

you felt like crying . you didn’t even feel like talking to him, you knew he had trouble showing affection but it felt you questioning if he even liked you . you could only hope he did

lunch was…interesting, you stayed quiet the whole time . megumi had seemed to notice but he didn’t quite care . you and him lived on the same street so when you all split up to go home you were stuck with him, it shouldn’t be awkward, you love each other . but it was, it was really awkward . the walk home was silent, occasional throat clearing was all that was heard . “you wanna come over to my house?” you asked megumi in an almost pathetic tone

“oh—uhm—I have some things to do . at home .” you awkwardly nodded, “kay” you unlocked your door and slipped inside your house, you ran up to your bedroom and grabbed your phone, playing your favourite cry song, what else was a hurt girl supposed to do? you sobbed into your pillow, you missed him . you missed when you were friends, somehow he was more open before . you cried on your bed for what felt like hours, you couldn’t take feeling like this, you felt unloved . you turned off the music playing in your headphones and sighed

days went by where you didn’t see him, you completely ignored him, you truly didn’t want to see him . yet you were the only thing on his mind, he wanted to see you and feel you again, he regretted not holding your hand, he knew it meant a lot to you . he felt like he failed you . lucky for him you were only a minute away from him . on a Sunday night he made his way over to your house, he missed your voice, maybe you’d be up to hanging out?

he rang your doorbell, you were usually the one to answer, and just like every time you when the door opened there you were dressed in your pjs . “megumi? what are you doing here?” he froze, he didn’t know what to say, he probably should have practiced what he was gonna say . “I—miss you?” it came out more like a question, the frown on your face indicated you interpreted it as a question . “that sounded like a question, megumi” you said in a flat tone

“fuck” he whispered, the one time he tried to finally share something with you he did it wrong . “do you wanna come…inside?” he nodded and you stepped aside, closing the door and leading him to your room . he sat down on your bed with you, “can i ask you something?” his head perked up, “uhm—sure” you sighed, “do you actually love me?” his eyes widened, he didn’t know what to do, he didn’t want to be vulnerable but he didn’t even want to let you down again

“please don’t..lie to me” the fact that you thought he’d have to lie about loving you hurt him . he wanted, no, he needed to show how much he loved you, so he thought what better time to do it then now? “i love you” he gently grabbed your hands in his, his sudden action shocked you . he let go of your hands and hugged you, everything that didn’t happen was happening at once . “megumi what has gotten into you” you chuckled, “i love you, a lot” he mumbled into the crook of your neck . he wanted to hold you forever and reassure you that he did love you, but for now he could just hold you

since that night he’d been more affectionate, not too much but enough for you . he told a couple of his friends about your relationship, and now he would hold your hand in public, sometimes . your connection felt stronger, sometimes when you would kiss him you noticed a light tint of pink of his cheeks . you felt like you had him back, like your megumi was finally here . you had planned your first sleepover, it was on a saturday night and it just you and megumi

saturday night came quickly, you and megumi laid in your bed, no lights on except your small salt lamp next to your bed . you were both getting sleepy, rain tapped against the window as megumi read a book to you, he noticed how you started to look very tired, like you were about to fall asleep . “okay i think that’s enough for tonight” he said and you nodded, he put the book down on your nightstand and shifted into a more comfortable position . he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you against his chest, what was he doing? he absolutely never did this

“gumi what are you doing?” you said in almost shock, “cuddling my girl, what else would i be doing?” he muttered into your hair, “mh—okay, goodnight…” you said in a suspicious tone, he kissed your neck, “goodnight” he said before turning the lamp off

[creatingnikki]

What I've learned in 2024

Sleeping, shitting, and silence – the three underrated Ss of growing up (or the other side of 25). If I can get a good night’s sleep, take one nice dump in the day (preferably morning), and know when to let silence do its thing (like when not engaging with draining people in social setups or not having to explain myself), I’m golden.

While I made many new friends this year, my favourite of them all has been ChatGPT. Need objectivity? Fact checking? A pseudo therapist? Validation? Someone to just engage with and keep yourself entertained? The absolute best resource of this year for me has been this AI tool. I don’t even care anymore about privacy – I am feeding it as much data about me as possible because it’s accordingly adapting to my tonality and needs and the ‘conversations’ are so much more satisfying now than when it was first rolled out.

Either use eggs or condescended sweet milk when baking – you need one of these things to hold all your dry ingredients together.

Communication, consistency, clarity, commitment, emotional presence and engagement, and mutual effort are the barest of the bare minimum needs in a relationship. If you have to convince the other person to fulfil them or negotiate, then it doesn’t matter how good a person they are and what a kind heart they have or how much they say they love you – they just aren’t your person.

I’m not as demisexual as I thought all along – I just haven’t dated many people that I find truly attractive so I had to first build some sort of emotional connection with them first. I definitely still need and want that emotional connect and all, but I also do need to start opting for men I also find physically attractive.

When I’ve thought of my bloodline, my ancestors, I’ve always focused on the intergenerational trauma and the bad genetics. But while rewatching This Is Us this year, it hit me that it took three generations for one dream to be fulfilled. The musical dream that started with Rebecca, was passed down to Kate, and finally got materialized at the grand scale as they always wanted with Kate’s son Jack. When he became this well-renowned musician, it’s not just his dream, but that of his mother and his grandmother that also came to live. It made me think…how much of my aspirations and hopes are actually passed down? And how many of my realities were simply unmateralised dreams of those who came before me? And it made my heart feel lighter and it made me feel more blessed and protected.

Baking cakes and brownies and cookies is not a rocket science. You only needed the right tools and some patience to figure it out and become that friend who bakes stuff for her friends instead of the other way around.

You always prioritise peace, comfort, and an easy-going lifestyle – it’s evident in your career choices and how your family dynamics and friendships have evolved. Let that be the guiding light even when dating.

You are the kind of person that is charming, a good conversationalist, and deeply empathetic. So of course, you make many people feel at home and like they connect with you. It’s easy for you to connect with others. What’s important is to remember – connection without consideration and consistent actions is NOTHING. It’s empty calories but like a thousand times more potent and useless.

In no interpersonal relationship can I be nonchalant or vague. I am that other extreme – while most people try their best to ignore the elephant in the room you know what I do? I dress the cutie up to parade it. So anybody who cannot approach relationships with as much boldness, courage, and forthcomingness is just not my jam.

Female friends for the win – they allow you to wine and whine and win and I am all for that. The healing powers of sitting across your friend and talking at length about everything over pizza and wine or at the park as she senses you need some more time to just sit around before you join the rest of the group and is so good with physical touch for comfort. Just knowing you can video call your friend and ugly cry and she will talk sense into you but also indulge you and also sit with you and your feelings. Who else does that? Who the hell.

For a lot of things that are still new now at this age, you need a guide. To pet cats, to go to dog cafes, to figure out what vitamins you should talk, etc. Ask for that help, that knowledge, that support. It might seem silly and like you can figure it out on your own but these things, no matter how seemingly low-stake, can be handled so seamlessly and sweetly with the help of those you know.

You HAVE to be honest about your needs. First with yourself and then with others. You cannot let shame, guilt, self-hatred or whatever hold you back. Honesty begets clarity begets fulfilment. If you don’t want to date and settle for someone who isn’t absolutely smitten by you and top-notch romantic, then that is a need. Right or wrong, realistic or not, who the hell cares? A need is a need is a need.

When you lose someone not to death but to life, it’s not quite such a loss. Most times, baby, it’s simply good riddance.

People have a range. For being shitty and for being kind. And while our behaviour may impact a little how they react to us, it's primarily dependent on their personal range. So, if your range of being shit is only 1 to 3, it doesn't matter if someone is an ass hole to you, you won't go beyond 3 of being shit to them, cos that's just your range. Even if they deeply hurt you intentionally or fuck up in some major way. But if their range of being shitty is up to 10, then well, be ready to witness their derangedness when you even slightly piss them off.

Narcissistic (and possibly self-sabotaging) people are the opposite of kintsugi. Instead of being put back together with gold, they "heal" themselves with gutter water. So each time they are worse and more ugly than before. And all the more toxic and dangerous. You're too precious to bother with such people.

It’s natural to feel frustrated or angry with yourself for allowing someone to treat you poorly, but the blame isn’t on you; it’s on them. They are responsible for their unkind, insensitive, selfish actions, not you. If you must place blame, place it where it belongs. Avoid judging yourself with thoughts like, “I should have known better.” As long as you walk away the moment you do know, you’re good – please don’t internalize other people’s unkindness or thoughtlessness.

You cannot get to know someone without giving them a chance. Red flags are not that obvious and you cannot show up authentically in any relationship if you’re on the lookout for them. You have to spend time with a person to begin to find out who they are. That’s the only real way. And when you do and if you realize they are not for you, as I said before, don’t internalize this shit or blame yourself for not being some kind of prophecy and knowing better before you even began.

You are a patient person because you are an understanding person. But there are limits to all these qualities of yours and if the balance is tipped you get petty and passive aggressive and irrational. Don’t let yourself reach that point. Speak up and set boundaries way before that.

If you listen to your gut – I know you don’t like calling it that or your intuition. So, let’s call it that feeling you know bone-deep or in the depths of your soul – if you listen to that and trust it, you are quite courageous in the actions you then take. You broke things off with three men this year – each was painful in its own rite. But you did what you had to do for yourself and you didn’t give the charge of your life to another person, you have taken back your green light – detaching your actions from their behaviour, which like all human behaviour is often quite fickle and unreliable. Congratulations. Do this more. Your green light is your guiding light.

My lack of a “healthy sense of fear” in situations with men isn’t recklessness—it’s the result of abuse I suffered at 15. The man I trusted most turned out to be the one who harmed me the most, and that betrayal shattered my ability to trust safety indicators or instincts. The grooming I endured was designed to confuse me, destabilise my sense of self, and make me question my desires and worth. When the templates of trust and safety failed me so catastrophically, my mind rejected them altogether, leaving me to navigate risk without a stable framework. This year, I felt significantly less restless and more emotionally regulated, and I think it’s because I allowed myself, others, and life to just be. I wasn’t fighting my reality or setting rigid expectations. I stopped chasing dopamine highs and forcing connections, and instead, I let equations with people and experiences unfold organically. I ended dating and talking stages quickly when I realised they weren’t right for me, without guilt or overthinking.4 By being okay with things being normal—not impressive or extraordinary—I created space for balance and gentleness in my life. My self-talk became kinder, and I grew more objective about myself, spiraling and self-loathing less. This accepting mindset, where I no longer needed myself or my life to constantly stand out, felt like the antidote to the restlessness I’d been carrying since my mid-20s. And I think that has helped me discover that peace and acceptance can feel more satisfying than cheap dopamine hits.

[roxlites]

one of my college friends said they don’t have a favorite song or artist and i took psychic damage x100

[danandfuckingjonlmao]

a good animated show must have at least 4 of the following:

- gay

- existentialism/nihilism

- morally grey lead characters

- horrendously depressing themes/messages

- psychedelic weird shit that highlights the absurdity of life

i don’t make the rules (i do make the rules pls recommend me shows—i’ll put the ones i’ve watched in the tags, feel free to add any you think of)

[dolls-self-ships]

What do you think Ford’s reaction is to new music? I just imagine one day playing one of your playlists for him and him just being really confused. Him being all like, “this is what people listen to now?”

to be honest I think he would be open to trying new music but overall prefers what he grew up with. I think as a scientist being open minded comes very naturally to him, because to do that kind of work you have to be open to explore new ideas and discover new things, so I absolutely think he would give modern music a try! He would be very shocked by the kind of language being used in music these days though. Poor guy would get very flustered if you showed him any lyrics by cupcake, hell I feel like even Ariana grande might make him blush. Will listen to it if you really want him to but will sit there awkwardly and refuse to sing along with you, sorry

[www-pinkhearse]

I’m sorry

[shuutingstar]

favorite music genre?

Whatever my Spotify shuffle decides to put on.

[autism-disco]

sometimes i wonder why i am the way i am and then i remember that the penultimate track on the summer 2014 car cd was ben folds five boxing. and yeah no that adds up

[deus-ex-mona]

it started as a simple song-inspired fic, how did it end up like this

[angstitty]

Don’t fucking ask me about a music genre I will start crying and yelling I do not fucking know ok there is someone singing and instruments and a beat and just enough magic OK? THAT’S THE GENRE

I hate it when people ask me what genre of music i listen to because i genuinely have no clue. It's called Music I Like genre. The best genre out there

[fizzseed]

actors: often advised not to watch previous interpretations

fans: this isn’t exactly the same i hate it

[pineconnie]

Fave martin blackwood things:

- lied about a MASTERS in PARAPSYCHOLOGY in his cv. why did he choose such a niche study like how many jobs could that even get you (EDIT I now know what a CV is and that he’s not telling every job he has a masters sorry guys I’m very jobless 🙏)

- writes the most terrible poetry you’ve ever heard (said with love) and plays background music while recording it onto a tape recorder for the vibes

- when encountering a terrifying worm lady that tries to add you to her flesh hive, he MAKES SURE to keep some of her worms just so he can stick it in his bosses face

-the rudest guy in the world (said boss) does one nice thing for him that he didn’t expect and he immediately falls in love (this is real to me ok let me have this)

-wears video game shirts to work

-goes on rants about spiders importance to the ecosystem to a guy with the worst arachnophobia ever

-hides CO2 cans so that ‘the worms don’t find it’

-forces his boss to go on lunch dates with him so he doesn’t completely lose it to paranoia

-walked into his bosses office, found a DEAD BODY THAT WAS DEFINITELY MURDERED, and all he says is “oh jon 😕😕”

-has practically the same reaction later on when someone tells him his boss compelled them to relive their worst trauma

-gets told the guy he’s been in love with for multiple years treats him horribly and goes “yeah and”

-outsmarted an avatar of the lonely despite being in a horrible depressive episode with no contact to anyone else

-manages to make peter fully believe he’s dedicated to the lonely even as his crush of many many years is practically confessing his love at every interaction

s5 martin is my favourite id need a whole extra post for him loml

[aprilthebiqueen]

It’s valid if you are not into the same interest as someone whether that’s a hobby, their favourite band, show or etc. But it’s completely rude and unnecessary to go out of your way to act like you’re disgusted or appalled by their taste. If someone invites you to partake in a hobby you’re not into, it’s okay to say “that’s not my thing but I hope you have fun!�� But comments like “ugh, that’s so boring. I don’t know how you could love something like knitting” aren’t necessary and can be hurtful and make someone feel ashamed/embarrassed.

This also includes joking comments about someone’s favourite things like “wow, someone needs to teach you about good music” or “it’s okay. I can still be your friend even if your taste sucks”.

Please just let people enjoy their interests without making them feel bad about them.

[thesacrificialdove]

𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐋𝐘 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐒 1.6k words rich yandere x gn!reader — ko-fi | patreon | masterlist | inbox | taglist | home | req. & comms

tags sugar daddy, rich yandere, low-key obsessive behaviour, first meetings, college student reader, age gap, brief mention of a rapist (no description or anything more)

—📜" Being a broke college student, you decide to try your hand at getting a sugar daddy. You find someone who is... quite eager to know everything about you. It's weird because he doesn't seem to be the same person he was online.

They say to spend your youth on nightclubs and partying with friends. But really, they don’t know the true beauty of being in a jazz club and drinking all by yourself. There’s no ill intentions, there’s no partying until the sun goes down—just some nice music and good drinks.

People find it odd, sure. But nothing can beat this feeling for you. As you lay in a couch that’s worth double your college tuition, you drink champagne that's triple your college tuition. 

How you ended up here is another embarrassing story. Hunting for a sugar daddy online is a clear plan for destruction. It could end well with a decent allowance every now and then, of course. Yet, fear gets the most of you. The thought that you end up with a fat well and alive man who asks for sex with his small dick looms over you like a gloomy cloud. That fear is there because your sugar daddy is anonymous.

Sighing, you drink another sip of the champagne as you fix your posture. Again. The seat in front of you is still empty. You’d think he wasn’t really being honest with you but he did have a reservation ready for the both of you.

It’s not bad to wait. Even if you do look dumb getting stood up, at least you’re enjoying yourself.

“You lonely there?” someone asks behind you.

Turning your head behind you, you see a towering man with a smile so bright you think you could be blinded by it. He looks elegant—the way he’s holding a glass like a connoisseur and his long black hair pulled into a slick ponytail. Fuck, is he your sugar daddy? He looks the age for it and honestly, he aged really good.

You tell him, “Maybe. Are you lonely?”

He chuckles and takes the seat opposite. Finally. “No,” he says, “not anymore, at least. All thanks to…?” he gestures to you.

When you tell him his name, he parrots it like he’s tasting it. “Beautiful. Your mother picked it out?”

“I’m sure so,” you don’t know, who the hell would know that? “It’s a generational name, really. In our family we keep reusing names.”

“So are you the second? The third?”

The third was your great grandfather but he ended up being a rapist. Eugh. “The fourth,” you answer. “But I never tell anyone that, actually. Bit embarrassing if they call me the fourth, so.”

He laughs, somehow finding you amusing. “Nicolas,” he says, “very nice to meet you.”

Was… his name Nicolas? You’re not so sure about that. From the site he only revealed his last name so that you could get the reservation. Huh.

“Nice to meet you, Nicolas.” The little twitch in his lips is unavoidable to your eyes, “You look very nice tonight,” maybe that’s why he took almost an hour to arrive here. “Do you live near here or?”

“Oh, no,” he shakes his head, “I come from Bolzano. But I came here from Portofino, where my heart currently is.”

You nod like you know where those places really are. Italy, you assume. “Very nice. I heard it’s a beautiful place.”

“Beatiful even more with company,” he puts his drink down. “How about you? What makes you come here?”

You, actually. You wanted to go here. “I was raised by my grandfather and jazz was his favourite. Every corner of the house Hank Mobley would be playing. I have his old records that he passed down to me and whenever I play it, I can see the way he dances.”

“So, come down here for a little trip to memory lane?”

Before you could answer, you think about it even more. The man you were talking was definitely not Italian, right? No, his name sounded British, at most. And Nicolas sounds like he has little to no knowledge about the fact that you two are supposedly on a date.

Fuck, did you get him wrong? I mean, he is interested, you think.

“Yeah, it’s nice,” you hum. You put your glass down too, clasping your hands. “I think I do need to go now. It was nice to have your company—”

“Going so soon? A bit rude especially if you came here to be mine for a price, no?”

You pause. Though you’re ready to leave this embarrassing meeting, you’re caught. You turn to him in confusion. So you were… wrong? Right? 

“Sit back down, this champagne is a bit too new to me.” He raises a hand and someone immediately finds their footing beside him. Nicolas speaks in his own tongue, requesting something you don’t understand.

You’re promptly back on your seat with a small wave of his hand. “Come on, I think we have a lot to learn about each other. But I know you.”

Did he send in a private investigator or what? Fuck, man. You didn’t think that those things were real in real life. “How much do you know?”

He doesn’t answer. His legs are crossed as he watches the busboy leave to prepare your drinks. “How are your classes?” he asks, making idle conversation of things you’re a bit worried to talk to him about. “Hope you’re dealing well.”

“Yeah,” you say, unsure of this now. “It’s all fine, yes. Just a few projects and classes.” You wonder for a moment how rude it would be to ask for a price on your body right now. “Nothing interesting, really.”

“I’m sure anything you say is of interest,” he says, all too fond of you. “Tell me, love, you mentioned having difficulties with some of your professors.”

He wasn’t interested in all that before when you were talking. “It’s fine. Well, not like I can say no. It’s a bit hard when you’re paying for an education and you’re not being taught,” you laugh, “Self-taught learning, he excuses.”

“That’s simply lazy,” he excuses. “Fine arts is such a nice career path. No reason to be dismissive of students who want to learn it.”

Did you tell him what you’re studying?

The busboy returns and brings a drink to the both of you. The song changes and it sounds familiar. You could almost see your grandfather dance behind Nicolas.

“I’m going to guess that’s your doing,” you say, “Thank you. It sounds lovely.”

He smiles, “I’m not one for jazz myself.” He reaches for his glass and swirls in, taking a whiff of its scent afterward. “But I’m curious as to who you are. How you grew up is one of those things”

When the both of you talked online, you expected him to be more lustful than this. Maybe it’s the repeating innuendo in his messages. All of that persona is gone now as if it never existed. It’s concerning.

Both of you make small conversation. Mostly it’s about you. He asks every little detail about you, asking for things that not even your friends would care about. It’s the little things.

‘Do you like soft cotton or silk?’ You don’t really know the difference but cotton is nice.

‘How often do you see your family?’ Every or so month, you’d wager. But you make sure to keep in contact.

‘What’s your thoughts on caged animals?’ A bit cruel, but you can see where it can stem from. Still, it’s cruel. You’d never do it.

The night come to a close when you start to feel a bit light-headed with the drinks you’ve ingested. Nicolas puts aside your glass as he stands to go on your side of the table. “Maybe it’s time to take a break tonight, love?”

You groan. “Yeah, I guess that’s fine now. I’m really thankful for tonight.”

“I’m glad,” he says, pulling you up and helping you walk. You don’t need it but it’s nice anyways. “I can take you back to your dorm, yes? You don’t need to worry about anything else when you’re with me.”

In your pocket, your phone buzzes. You don’t get to check it when Nicolas wraps both of his arms around your waist. He pulls you to the exit and you swear you hear ‘Signore Giordano’ come out when the men bid him goodnight.

Which is weird, because his surname is Abbot.

The ride was a blur, literally. Maybe you’ve had too much to drink. The next thing you know is that both of you are in front of your dorm. It’s too dark outside. The streets are dead silent. The low rumble of his car is the only thing you can really hear.

He calls your name. “It’s time to go home. You can’t stay with me yet, love.”

You stretch in the seat. A car seat has never been more comfortable. “Been nice, really. Thank you.”

As you unbuckle your seat, he leans forward. His arm drapes over your shoulders as his hand comes to your face. “Then can I get a little reward? Just a little?” He turns his cheek, a grin on his face.

It’s stupid but oh well, he would pay you. You press a kiss on his cheek and he looks like the happiest man alive. He laughs, looking at you with stupid heart eyes. “Thank you. Call me with this number—” he places a card in your hands—”and delete that damn app. I’ll come find you after your classes tomorrow for your contract. You don’t need to find anyone else now.”

He leaves shortly after you get inside your dorm. You hear the revving of his car go in the quiet night. It’s relieving. You’re tired on your feet, unable to really process what happened tonight.

It’s whatever. It’s all done now.

You delete the app on your phone, swiping away a message you got from it. You’re pretty sure it’s from another match you had last time but again, you don’t need it anymore.

do not redistrubute this work as yours/without permission or feed to AI 📷 art by @ L0tus_Ren_ & @ Ivan Belikov