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tobiosmilktea · 3 years

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high fidelity — kuroo tetsurou

3.9k words | genre: fluff | warning/s: terrible writers block writing, ooc kuroo cause i suck | pairing: kuroo x gn!reader

↪︎ in which being the only two employees at a small record store meant that you and kuroo worked together almost every day. and not a single day has passed that you didn’t find your coworker absolutely insufferable. you think he’s annoying, and he thinks you’re cute. in reality, kuroo just sucks at flirting.

a/n: is the plot a bit of a mess? lowkey yeah, but ykw that’s okay cause i needed something stupid to write. this was also a bit self-indulgent cause homegirl just got employed at a record store (yay)

fucking tired—is what you would tell kuroo in the means of his grand intervention to mess with his favorite coworker of all time. granted, you were his only coworker in the infamously meager record store down some random alleyway in downtown tokyo.

those six words were how you would describe how you felt at that very moment. busy with doing what you were employed on doing rather than sitting around and snacking on some trail mix. one would assume that working at a rather small establishment meant little to no work, especially in hours where it was slow with no customers roaming up and down the aisles, but god were you wrong. you were the only one on the shift actually busting your ass off on the floor and at the register while all kuroo does is change the music playing on the store’s overhead speakers and hangs out.

sure, he does do his fair share of work here and there. occasionally he would even take over most of the manual labor of carrying all the new shipments of heavy vinyl records for the sake of courtesy, but at the end of the day, it was always you who would have to restock the displays every time.

so much for being a gentleman.

your feet hurt, your legs ached, your arms were sore. you were just glad that kuroo finally decided to get his ass up and actually walk around for once. he probably wasn’t planning on doing any work, simply just meandering through the aisles of vinyl just to see what to buy next with his 20% off employee discount. you honestly couldn’t care less. what you did care about was that the stool behind the cash register (aka the only place to sit inside the entire building) was finally free.

you settled yourself behind the counter, a sigh escaping your lips as your chin rested atop the palm of your hand.

you finally had a chance to rest. yet despite taking this rare opportunity, you couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit bored now that the store was practically deserted. then again, what did you expect from working at a small business? not to mention, it’s the twenty-first century and all forms of media was digitized and easily accessible by a single internet search. there were, however, a few old souls out there, still in love with the idea of having a physical copy of their favorite artist’s work.

you were easily one of those people.

there was something so endearing listening to strangers talk about their love for music—it’s why you started working here at TRAX in the first place as a sorry excuse to surround yourself with the physical embodiments of the best invention mankind has ever made. hell, you still had the old walkman that your father gave to you. it was from the 90s with its gray plastic chipping at the corners and scratched-off lettering. you even had his old cassette tapes always in your bag whenever you go out.

regardless, the quietness of the store wasn’t at all bad at times. if anything, you were fortunate that kuroo wasn’t annoying the shit out of you like he normally does—poking at your cheeks and teasing you to no end. in fact, it was a nice break from the overstimulation of the occasional busy hours that come out of the blue. from old men mansplaining how record players work to annoying middle schoolers trying to blast their terrible soundcloud songs on the store’s bluetooth speakers. perhaps the slow hours were a godsend.

it was absolute hell trying to chase those annoying thirteen-year-olds out of the store with the help of kuroo. causing a ruckus or not, the situation was a bit funny at the end. it was one of those rare moments you and kuroo shared a genuine laugh together.

a sigh escapes your lips then as you take out your walkman, plugging in the old headphones that came with it. the black, plastic ones with thin muffs whose wires tangle no matter how much you try not to. you place them over your ears.

today’s mood was classic 80s rock, something along the lines of queen, guns n’ roses, and journey beating into your ears as you let your eyelids rest for a few seconds.

however, your means to relax was immediately shut down when a hand snatches your headphones off of your ears.

“ouch,” you groan as the plastic of the headset scratched at your temple. you look over your shoulder at your coworker with confusion plastered all over your face. “what was that for?”

kuroo blinks with a sly smile on his face, “those things still exist?”

you flick him a look, “what do you want?”

“you don’t get paid to sleep on the job, you know.” kuroo gives you a pointed look as he hands you back your headphones.

you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. the audacity. “i get paid by the hour and the store is literally empty right now,” you defend as you click your walkman on pause, “besides, aren’t you the one slacking all the time?”

“only when the boss isn’t around,” he hums.

“the boss is never around,” you huff.

“speaking of an empty store,” kuroo starts once again, watching you wrap the thin headphone wires around the body of your walkman. “d’you got any spare change?”

your eyes peer at him slightly, “what for?”

“to get a drink from the vending machines down the street, obviously.” replied kuroo.

yet another sigh left your lips, licking at its dryness as you reached into your pocket to reveal a few fifty-yen coins. it wasn’t much, but it wasn’t like anything from the vending machines in the city was that expensive. just anything to get him off your back again for peace of mind. “get me a one too while you’re at it,” you mutter, tossing the coins into his palm.

“why don’t you just come with me?” he asks, curious.

you shake your head, “i can’t leave the store unattended.”

kuroo clicks his tongue, feigning himself from rolling his eyes and just tugging you along with him. “come on, it’s not like there are any customers.” he gestures onto the barren floor as if its emptiness wasn’t already obvious enough.

“do i have to?” you groan. you just got comfortable and you weren’t exactly in the mood to walk all the way down the street either.

“yes,” he said sternly, hoping that it was enough to sway you, but surprise surprise! it didn’t. his unsuccessful (and oddly pitiful) attempt at convincing you to come with him caused the corners of kuroo’s lips to dip into a slight pout.

no matter how annoying your coworker was, thinking he wasn’t at all cute or the least bit attractive was a lie. when you look at kuroo, you’re not entirely sure what it was about him that made your heart skip a few beats despite your brain thinking the opposite. was it his sleek obsidian hair that was always styled perfectly? perhaps it was his eyes that were so pretty that if you looked at him for longer than a few seconds, you would be entranced? or maybe it was his witty charm that despite being annoying, you still found his presence nice to be around?

whatever it was, you hated to think there was even the slightest possibility that you liked kuroo more than you would like to admit. and the worst part of it all? perhaps you did like him more than a friend.

and that was the biggest problem.

how annoying, you think.

“pretty please,” he begged, his warm hands suddenly finding yours in the midst of your internalized dilemma and pulling you out of your thoughts.

the action catches you off guard as you snatch your hands back from his abrupt contact. eyes wide and heart beating heavy, you gulped when you noticed how close he was to you then. the action of you pulling away from him only brought kuroo closer like some odd twist in fate.

your thoughts pondered a bit as you looked up at him, still patiently waiting for an answer as he gives you a comforting smile. perhaps kuroo stepped a bit out of line this time, and there’s no doubt he feels a bit bad about it. he was about to pull away and apologize but after your thoughts spiraled for a few seconds you gave in with a nod.

“fine,” you say, lifting yourself off the stool as kuroo steps away from you with a grin. you follow him around the counter, taking your walkman with you as you pass it.

you just hoped no one came by while you two were out. the last thing you wanted to do was get fired all because your annoyingly handsome coworker wanted to get a mid-afternoon beverage.

your shoes muffled gently against the store’s floor—tap, tap, tapping in some form of patterned unison as you and kuroo left the building.

the backroads of downtown were quiet. considerably so compared to the main streets as there was nothing but tweeting birds, whistling cicadas, and an occasional bicycler whizzing by. it was such a nice day, perhaps it wasn’t a bad idea to go out after all.

there was something incredibly calming about afternoon strolls down the street, feeling the rays of sunlight beaming down on your face as you further melted into an earth-smearing mood while you unpaused your walkman.

your headphones laid around your neck with the volume set on max this time just so kuroo could listen in. the corner of his lip quirked up a bit as you did so. it was like a nod of approval within a minuscule gesture. then again, you and kuroo always had a similar taste in music—messy and all over the place, but the classics are where you and he truly had the most in common.

the walk there was short and quiet. usually kuroo doesn’t mind being the one to strike up a conversation, but right now, it was as if he was trying to savor something at the moment that you couldn’t really pinpoint.

upon arriving at the rows of vending machines, kuroo slips in a few coins before pressing one of the buttons. he opted for a calpico, watching the can fall from behind the glass before bending down to pick it up. kuroo doesn’t even give you a look before he puts in the rest of your change, let alone ask what you wanted. the boy presses on the button right below a matcha drink—the exact one you were planning on getting.

he bends down when the drink dispenses and hands it to you on beat with the music emitting from your headphones.

“thank you,” you say, a bit dumbfounded as you opened up the can.

the slight confusion was evident on your face as kuroo couldn’t help but find your curiosity absolutely adorable. “i always see you with that drink whenever you come in for work,” he explains, chuckling as he takes a sip from his own. “assumed you liked it a lot.”

you couldn’t help but blush at his words, feeling your heartstrings suddenly tug at the thought that he knows you enough, let alone care to even remember such a minor detail. letting out a shaky breath that you hoped was drowned out by the music, you lamely attempted to hide the crimson red hues on your cheeks as you take a drink.

“i’m surprised you’d even remember something so insignificant about me,” you mutter as you two walk back to the store, yet this time your pace slowed along with his.

it seemed as if you weren’t the only one wanting to spend a little more time like this.

“i mean, it’s you.” kuroo replied, fingers nervously fiddling. “you are my favorite coworker after all.”

which wasn’t at all a lie. it was true. you were his favorite, but it was nothing more than a panicked and questionable explanation in the means of nonchalance. he couldn’t exactly expose himself out of the blue ever since you two talked about what you looked for in a partner. he recalled your words of wanting to find someone who cares about you and can remember every detail about you regardless of what it was. and much of his dismay of explaining his type to be the exact same of your own traits and characteristics, his sorry excuse of casually flirting completely flew over your head.

and if he’s coming to think of it now, all of kuroo’s sorry excuses of flirting probably went over your head. he mentally faced palmed himself. god, you probably thought he was the most irritating guy on the planet.

yet to his rapidly beating heart, you laughed, practically beaming at him. kuroo swears you could literally send him into cardiac arrest. “i’m your only coworker, idiot.” you tease before taking another sip.

he grins.

“gives me an even better reason to care then,” he hums, pulling the door to the store open just to be met with a thunderous shout.

you two were met with the owner of TRAX record store aka your boss. the short, pudgy old man with a receding hairline and a scowl on his face stood by the counter, arms crossed over each other like a disappointed parent.

“where have you two been?” he grunts, his familiar adenoidal and croaky voice ripping through your eardrums as you hurried to pause your walkman. “leaving the store unattended just to get drinks? you two are lucky i got here when i did because a customer just came by!”

your lips purse together nervously as the grip around your can tightened. kuroo notices your unease, giving you an apologetic look. he turns to face igarashi, your boss, “sorry sir, that’s my bad. i was the one who convinced (y/n) to come with me even after they said no.”

“oh really?” your boss tested. his hand came up to his chin to scratch the few strands of beard hair he even had. he scoffs, “of course it is.”

your neck swivels up towards kuroo as guilt melted into your bloodstream. knowing igarashi, he wasn’t the type to lay easy on simple mistakes. it was the only reason why you were glad he wasn’t here often in the first place knowing that he was like a ruthless hawk with eyes that followed you everywhere.

“it’s not entirely his fault, sir. i knew better but i still decided to go.” you muttered, refusing to look kuroo in the eye as he looks at you surprised.

igarashi lets out a huff as his eyes closed for a few seconds, “my therapist told me to take deep breaths whenever i feel as if i am about to lash out,” he explains before pulling himself together. he opens his eyes, tone much calmer now but the words were still like venom. “since you two were at least truthful about it, i will let it go this time, but know it won’t be the next time around. alright?”

you and kuroo nod, “yessir.”

“good. now, i want this place spotless by the time i come back.” with that your boss disappears into the back where he would be for the rest of the night–not helping at all. he stays in the backroom just to nap and to get away from his own unhappy marriage. you just hoped he stayed there until the end of your shift.

with your pulse calming, you took a sip of your matcha drink out of comfort, finishing all of its contents before throwing it into the trash bin. kuroo does the same thing, this time out of the fear of getting in trouble again as for the first time in a long time, you hear him ask you, “should we get to work then?”

you almost wanted to laugh. you were oddly giddy about working alongside him rather than vexed, nodding in response. both of you grab one of the grates of newly shipped records from behind the counter, ready to be put on display as you and kuroo worked down the same aisle.

with your walkman still on hand and your headphones wrapped around your head, you decided to play the cassette tape again just to ease the underlying awkwardness that was still in the air.

when you paused your walkman earlier, it stopped near the beginning of good old fashioned lover boy by queen. and the moment freddie mercury starts vocalizing, you could practically feel the ice around the two of you melt, heads bobbing to the beat as you two worked your way down the jazz aisle.

it went like this for the next hour. songs ranging from artist to artist, humming lightly to the beat of every drum. usually, kuroo wouldn’t last two minutes without complaining about doing work, but for once he didn’t mind knowing that you’re right next to him, mumbling the lyrics together in incoherent unison. if he knew working with you was going to be like this, he wouldn’t have been such a slacker after all. you could honestly say the same thing.

the cassette tape pulls to a stop, reaching the end of its duration as you and kuroo reach the bottom of the crate of vinyl records. as you reach inside to take out the last few albums, a gasp escapes you as your eyes fall onto one of the records. it was one that you have been dying to get for years now.

you put your walkman and headphone set down, grabbing the album.

“no way,” you grinned, capturing kuroo’s attention as he looks over at you curiously. “look, look!”

“tears for fears?” he says as a small switch flickers in his brain. “isn’t that your favorite 80s album?”

you nod, happy to think he even remembered that about you as you rush over to the cash register. you buy the album without a moment of hesitation, already freeing it from its plastic wrap as you reach kuroo again. you open the cover, beaming at its beautiful design. you couldn’t wait until you got home to listen to it.

at the end of every other row, there was a record player display that customers were able to use. taking out the delicate vinyl, you carefully placed it on the player’s mat with delicate fingers. you pick up the needle, hovering it over the edge of the record before placing it down gently.

on either side of the record player, there were hooks to hold headphones. each of which was connected to the machine as you quickly pull kuroo over. taking the headsets from the hooks, you put one of the pairs on before placing the other over kuroo’s ears, tiptoeing just to reach his height. almost immediately one of the most iconic songs of the decade stream into his ears. it was everybody wants to rule the world—one of your favorite songs.

you two stood there in silence, listening to the song’s nostalgic beats as your bodies faced each other. while you were looking over at the spinning black vinyl, kuroo eyes fell on you.

there was absolutely nothing in his wake to be able to take his admiration away as this, this beaming expression on your face had something special about it. it was as if his entire world was right in front of him, just an arms reach away.

his heart couldn’t slow for a minute as he could practically hear it over the music playing in his headphones. his breath gave way then, at the moment you turned to look back up at him with glowing eyes as if you struck gold. you consider yourself lucky being able to get your hands on such a rare vinyl, but kuroo considered himself the winner as he had you.

“do you like this song?” you asked him curiously, ignoring the way your heart started beating rapidly from the way he was looking at you with such care and admiration.

you were so close, you were literally right there. all of kuroo’s emotions that battered onto him like a cumbersome downpour can be relieved if he were to just say the words. a simple phrase, three short words, and a heavy heart beat. ready to leave his tongue and all would be done.

come on, just say it!

“I like you,” he says out of the blue, but his voice was a bit muffled due to the headphones.

your eyebrows furrow slightly, mouth suddenly running dry as your eyes widen.

did he just say what you think he just said?

you are not entirely sure what he said considering his words were partially drowned out by the music. you wanted to think that he did say the words of the impossible, but you couldn’t be so sure of yourself.

“sorry, what did you say?”

kuroo’s hands wrap around your headset, pulling them off of your ears and placing them around your neck. “i said i like you and i wanted to know if you wanted to go out sometime!” he says ratherly loudly. his headphones were still on him blasting tears for fears.

you couldn’t help but laugh, the back of your hand coming up to cover your reddening cheeks. warmth surrounded your heart, like a hug that squeezed at your chest in the most comforting way possible. you raise your hands up, cupping around the shell of his headphones as you pull them off of kuroo.

“you’re so loud,” you mutter.

as if fate decided to push you into the unknown with a strange burst of confidence within you, you got up on your tiptoes and leaned it. pressing your lips against his, soft and light, your skin ignited ablaze.

in a mere moment of serendipity just to test out the waters, you were pulled in deeper, mind blurring in satisfaction. yet it was nothing more than temporary as the sound of infamous footsteps gradually got louder and louder. panicked, you pull away quickly just seconds before igarashi emerges from the aisles, staring bullet holes into you and kuroo.

“i suppose you two are working?”

you nod, pulling your wrists out of kuroo’s grasp.

kuroo quickly answers, “we are, don’t worry.”

your boss lets out a suspicious hum as he gives you two one last look. he turns back around again, disappearing into the back.

a sigh of relief leaves you as you turn back towards the boy in front of you. he still waited for an answer, almost desperate to know as his eyes searched for an answer.

grinning, you pause the record player and kuroo watches it spin to a slow stop. “you’re an idiot,” you say with a laugh.

kuroo doesn’t seem to care at that moment, if anything he was just glad there were no one else was around. his hands wrap around yours again, “well, is that a yes or a no?”

“so that kiss wasn’t obvious enough for you?”

liking someone you found annoying was impossible, but liking your annoying coworker? now, that was a different story.

general taglist: @yongboxerrr @rosepetalhaven @tvwhoresblog @tanakaslastbraincell @kellesvt @kitsunetea @milktyama @anejuuuuoy

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #kuroo x reader #kuroo imagines #kuroo scenarios #kuroo fluff #kuroo tetsurou #haikyuu kuroo #hq kuroo

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ruewrites · 4 years

Text

We’re Blooming Together Chapter 6: Sweet Dreams

AO3

Ships: Solomon/Asmo, Diavolo/Lucifer (implied)

Word Count: 4010

Warnings: Drinking Mention

Chapter 1-Chapter 2-Chapter 3-Chapter 4-Chapter 5-Chapter 6-Chapter 7-Chapter 8-Chapter 9-Chapter 10-Chapter 11-Chapter 12

Asmo was exhausted when his alarm went off. It wasn’t the normal morning grogginess. He probably would have been mildly tired no matter what this morning. Mammon hadn’t gotten them back from their stakeout until near one in the morning. Honestly he was surprised Lucifer hadn’t been up in the living room and ready to reprimand them. They were all adults sure, but Lucifer never seemed to move past the idea that they were all still six years old.

Actually… Lucifer wasn’t anywhere to be seen. Asmo had just come down from his routine and into the dining room like he always did, but there was no Lucifer… Beel and Belphie were in their normal spots, but the coffee pot was left completely unattended. “Did Lucifer leave already?” he asked, turning towards the twins. The fact that Lucifer wasn’t there threw him off a bit. It just… wasn’t like him.

Beel shook his head, “Not that I’m aware of, we haven’t seen him.” Asmo nodded and turned back around to get his breakfast together and pour himself a little extra coffee. Normally he would wait until he got onto campus, but he was going to need a little extra boost today.

“Asmo?” Beel asked as he put his bagel in the toaster. “I’m sorry we read your letter. The more I thought about it… The more I realized how much we upset you. We really shouldn’t have done it.”

Oh sweet Beelzebub. Always his darling younger brother.

Asmo sighed and leaned against the counter. “Well, there’s nothing we can do about it now… But thank you Beel,” he said. At least one of his brothers still kind of respected both his privacy and his personal life. Of course it wasn’t okay that it happened, but how could he stay mad at Beel? Especially when he had the sweetest puppy dog face he’d ever seen. He was just so innocent.

He’d let Beel and Satan meet Secret first. It would be an excellent way to steal his nerves for when he had to introduce them to Lucifer. After all, Lucifer’s approval was the one that he really needed.

“Do they make you happy?”

Asmo stopped for a moment and stared at the wall in front of him. “Well of course, I love getting letters from them, but even then, even if they do, it doesn’t matter unless they get Lucifer’s stamp of approval,” he sighed, picking up his bagel from the toaster as it popped up.

Beel was silent for a while, turning to look at a snoring Belphie who was slumped against his shoulder. It was almost as if he was contemplating waking up his twin to confer with him before speaking again. Then he turned back to Asmo, “I don’t think Lucifer would have a problem.”

He had to stop himself from laughing. “Really? You don’t think so? Are we talking about the same Lucifer?” he asked, “The same Lucifer has a little talk with anyone that gets brought into this house? You know, the one where some people come out looking like they've met Death? The same Lucifer who compares everything to ‘a case he had one time’ to explain why it would end bad and why we should just forget about it?” Honestly Asmo could go on. Lucifer was strict and overprotective. He’s always been. Should he have had to raise them? No. But they were all adults now, and he didn’t have to be so…. Lucifer all the time. Of course he adored his big brother, he always had, but sometimes even he thought he could be a little ridiculous (especially when it came to him wanting to have fun). He’d broken some of his rules before and come out completely fine. He’d snuck out of the house and nothing bad happened.

“Well, you said they make you happy, and Lucifer just wants what’s best,” Beel reasoned, “So… he shouldn’t have a problem. If you’re happy and safe, that’s all that matters.” He was always so optimistic, Asmo honestly wished he wasn’t worried about what Lucifer would say. He wanted to believe he'd be happy for him, but he could also see the worst in Asmo’s Secret… It made a knot form in the pit of his stomach.

“Maybe…” he sighed. Honestly it would be so nice and easy to believe that Lucifer wouldn’t be difficult about it, but he wasn’t that delusional.

“It’s almost like you’ve never met Lucifer,” Belphie murmured, eyes opening only slightly.

“I mean, he could-”

“Do you really think so?”

There was a silence between the twins for a moment. Asmo felt like there was a conversation going on between them that he couldn’t hear. Sometimes it was creepy. He wasn’t sure if he’d really ever understand it.

Finally Beel broke the silence, “Yeah, I do.”

Asmo wished he had that certainty…

******

He felt Solomon nudge him after Demonology. He wasn’t normally one to fall asleep in class. He hadn’t even realized that he had dozed off. Had the professor seen him? He hoped not. Honestly he hoped that (for once) no one noticed him. It was embarrassing him. “Are you alright?” he asked, “Usually you do your nails when you’re bored, not fall asleep.”

He looked genuinely concerned, and if made Asmo forget his worries for just a moment and smile.

Asmo stretched out over his desk before standing up, still trying to get his wits about himself. “My brothers ,” he yawned, “They were so sold on this stakeout thing… I didn’t get home till late last night. Or I guess early this morning if you want to get technical.” What he wouldn’t give for a nap. If only he had the confidence to curl up in one of the common rooms and stay there like Belphie did. He was actually close to giving in and just finding a spot where no one could see him. Why did he have to be so self conscious about everything he did?

“So you need coffee.”

Oh Solomon knew him so well. “Can it be a double shot today? Just to make sure I’m awake,” he asked, bumping into Solomon’s side as they exited the classroom. Other students bustled around them, some sprinting to other classes and others laughing and chatting with friends. It really could be any of them… Anyone one of his fellow classmates could be sending him the letters, anyone of them could be Secret, anyone of them could have captured his heart. Of course Asmo had his preferences, but the thought alone-

The chilly fall air snapped Asmo back to his senses and sent a shudder through him. How far were they into the semester again? Where had the semester gone? Would Secret continue to pursue him after this if he never found them?

Time was so fickle. One minute it was drudging by barely making an effort to move, and in the next instant a day passed by within a single second.

Asmo was never aware of time passing by when he was with Solomon. In a sense, every moment with him was magical.

“What’s up?” Solomon asked.

“Just… Just a lot on my mind is all… I just need my coffee.”

The campus cafe had a rather mellow atmosphere. People were chatting, working on projects, or just enjoying some alone time. Light filtered in from the large windows on the walls and espresso filled his senses. Plants also hung from hooks on the ceiling. All in all it was a nice place. He and Solomon were sitting in one of the booths, bloomed flowers hanging next to them and had dropped a few soft, bright petals onto their table. Asmo enjoyed picking them up and carefully playing with them between his fingers. They still felt crisp and smooth, not yet wilted or withered. They were pretty too. He should really get some more flowers for his room. After a few sips of coffee, Asmo found himself able to form some more coherent thoughts. He still wanted a nap, but at least his head no longer felt like static.

“We were all crammed in Mammon’s car. Levi and Mammon didn’t even have a plan . We just sat there staring at nothing! I have no clue how Belphie was sleeping in the back. We were all crammed together! It was awful, just awful,” he huffed, setting his coffee down, “Like, I can kind of get it, but why can’t they just let me handle this in my own way? I’m an adult, they don’t need to be in my business.”

Solomon’s smile was telling. Of course he didn’t think the night was as horrible as Asmodeus was saying. “Sounds like a nice time out with your family if you ask me,” he said.

“You would think so. It’s a wonder we even got past Lucifer.”

Asmo swore it was all because the universe had lined up perfectly just to spite him.

But how could he be mad at Solomon? Solomon who had such a wonderful smile. The sunlight created a lustrous glow around him, and who’s eyes he could absolutely become lost in. Solomon who was so smart, and considerate, and cunning, and-

…..

Maybe taking a break from the dating scene had been a mistake. Sure his last relationship had been an absolute dumpster fire, and sure he had Secret’s letters… But this time alone was starting to awaken feelings inside him that he’d prefer to stay down. He’d only get hurt… He knew that Solomon didn’t think of him that way. Yet his thoughts always drifted to the what ifs. What if Solomon actually liked him? What if Solomon wanted to touch him like he did in his dreams? What if Solomon was Secret?

He really needed more self restraint. He needed his old crush to stop already.

“Oh! I almost forgot to tell you about my letter,” Asmo chirped, then he let out a dreamy sigh, “It was absolutely divine . I didn’t think it was possible for one person to say so many wonderful things to me in a letter.”

No one had taken the time to write him one before…

“Oh? So you liked it?”

“Is that even a question?” he asked. Of course he loved it! It was so sweet, and wonderful. “It was so kind… You know people usually focus on my looks, and I mean they should . I am drop dead gorgeous after all.”

Solomon snorted at the dramatics, as Asmo struck a pose and flipped his hair back ever so slightly (and it landed perfectly ), but let him continue on about his letter.

“But, they also focus on other parts of me, you know, the nonphysical things…” he stopped for a moment. How did he express how it made him feel? “It’s… It’s just so- It really… so… so-”

Solomon’s smirk disappeared, and his eyebrows furrowed together. Asmo couldn’t understand why until he found himself sniffling and his vision becoming blurry. Dammit he wasn’t about to let his makeup smear. Solomon passed him a napkin and Asmo carefully dabbed at the underneath of his eyes.

“So-?”

“ So sweet .”

Was it simple wording? Yes. Did it come anywhere close to describing what he was feeling or Secret’s wonderful way with words? Absolutely not. But it was the only thing Asmo could think of. The only words his mind would allow him to use to explain Secret’s love.

And in no way was it enough.

Was there even a word to describe how he truly felt?

Asmo was embarrassed about how he was tearing up in public. It was just so… so wonderful. Secret was so wonderful. Just thinking about that last letter unearthed so many emotions within him. It was silly. He’d been in relationships before. He’d had nice things said to him before.

Why was this so different?

Well, he knew why, but he was afraid to admit it.

It was time to change the subject. He couldn’t spend the rest of his day with blotchy, red tinted eyes. “Maybe you could take some handwriting lessons from them when we find them when we find them,” he chuckled, still dabbing at his eyes, “You could finally make that chicken scratch you call notes into something legible.”

“I think my handwriting is legible.”

“So it’s legible to other people.”

“Are you saying you can’t read my notes?”

“Not unless I’m sitting next to you so you can read them to me,” Asmo snorted, and Solomon’s smile returned to his face. Although Asmo couldn’t get the odd weight out of his chest. It felt like someone took a rock and dropped it inside of him, weighing him down despite his want to float above it all.

Solomon grabbed his things and started to move from his seat, “Well, maybe I can write a book to help you read it better. You could nap at the apartment while I work on it if you’d like.”

“Oh how gentlemanly of you,” Asmo laughed. That same bell like laugh that Secret adored, “Mmm, but a quiet place to have an uninterrupted nap is incredibly tempting.”

As Solomon helped him out of the booth, Asmo’s phone went off.

…

Odd.

“Hello?”

“No sign of suspicious activity. Over.”

“ Levi ?” His brothers rarely called him when he was still on campus. Furthermore, it was usually to either tell the twins something, to ask him to pick something up on his way home, or to inform him of last minute family plans. They were never weird like this.

“You didn’t say over. Over.”

“Levi what are you talking about? Where are you?”

“Omg Asmo just say over. Over.”

Asmo let out an annoyed sigh and rolled his eyes in Solomon’s direction. This was ridiculous. “ Fine. What do you want?”

Silence.

Levi’s pout was palpable through the speaker

Asmo groaned. “Over.”

This was dumb, but Levi now sounded pleased.

“We’re continuing our stakeout like we said we would. Mammon had me and the twins to scout out your campus today. I’m rotating out with him and Satan. Over.”

“You can’t be serious. At my school ?”

“You forgot to say over,” Solomon mused, leaning into Asmo’s phone. The warmth of his breath caressed Asmo’s skin. He suppressed the shudder that desperately wanted to run through him and shot Solomon a look. All Solomon did was laugh in response.

“Beel tells me that there’s no one by the snack bar,” Asmo heard, Levi sigh, “And I think Belphie fell asleep on his phone. Unless this keysmashing is a new form of code. Over.”

“You really don’t need to do this…. Over.”

“Oh but we do! Just think about all of the implications this has! Remember that manga I was telling you about? It has the greatest ending once they find out who it is and I can only imagine-”

“ Perfect . Great . Listen, I’m sure you have some work to get back to and Solomon and I are busy and have plans so goodbye Levi! Love you! See you later! At home. Not on my campus .”

Click .

Asmo needed that nap.

*****

Solomon’s bed was comfortable. Not that Asmo’s wasn’t, but a bed in general had never felt more heavenly (and Asmo had been in a lot of them). It smelt like him, and it was oddly comforting. Like a candle that had just been snuffed out, or like a distant fire. It was wrapped all around him and lulled Asmo into a sense of security. Everything was safe and secure and alright. He was alright. He’d woken up to more of Luke’s treats and hot chocolate and a warm greeting from Simeon once he stepped out of Solomon’s room, and Solomon working on his latest project on the couch. The sun fell on him in the most perfect of ways. Asmo couldn’t help but stare. He wondered only for a moment if Simeon noticed him, but that thought didn’t last long before Solomon invited him to join him for a bit. He asked him about his nap, if he felt better now, if he’d like him to walk him home once more.

It felt wonderful.

It was perfect.

It was nothing short of peaceful.

This was what absolute bliss felt like, and it kept relaying in his mind long after he got home.

What he wouldn’t give to have this be his day to day life.

Especially after he found the next letter.

Perhaps it was over optimistic of him to believe that Solomon wrote it, but he had been with Solomon all day and he hadn’t noticed anyone else. The thought of Solomon made his heart flutter as he read over it. He felt so incredibly stupid giggling and wiping away stray tears as he read and reread the words over and over and over again. This was what Secret did to him… Or… Well...What Solomon did to him he supposed. He made him feel so wonderful, like he could float on air. No one had ever made him feel quite like this. Something was blooming within Asmo. He wasn’t sure what it was quite yet, but he loved it.

A Crush? Love? Adoration?

It didn’t matter. What mattered was that it was Asmo’s, and that he never wanted it to end, and he never wanted it to stop making him feel so wonderful.

If I could rewrite the past for you and give you the life you deserved

I would

If I had any say in how things went

I would make sure you had the most pleasant dreams when you slept at night

I would rip every star from the night sky and weave you a crown if I were able

I would go to the gates of Hell itself and back

And face off against the devil himself.

I would do it all for you

Because everything about you is wonderful in my eyes

I want to give you the best,

To take care of you,

And give you everything I have

Until there is nothing left to give.

Because you deserve every good thing this world has to give

I adore you.

I love you.

I want to be closer to you.

I’ll never leave you.

For as long as my heart beats

It belongs to you

And no one else.

You are my everything

My eternity.

An existence without you is not one at all.

You haunt my dreams and my thoughts

And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

You deserve so much in this life,

And in any other.

I will give you everything I have until there’s nothing left.

My Darling, Think of Me,

Your Secret

It made him melt, just like the pink, heart-shaped candies in his mouth. Maybe Solomon had improved his penmanship after all.

The words plagued his thoughts long after he put the letter down, towing with the idea of texting Solomon in reference to the letter. Should he send something playful? Something flirty? Of course he wanted to be creative. Solomon had put so much into his little gifts and letters. The living room TV played quietly in the living room as he sat on the couch. For once the room was quiet and absent of anyone else other than himself and Cerberus who was laying on the floor contently. Every now and again Asmo would read down to scratch his ears or pet his soft fur. It was an odd feeling, but after being harassed by his brothers, it was welcomed. What made it even sweeter was the mood going to Solomon’s had put him in.

However, the silence also brought his attention closer to the creaking door opening and closing, and Cerberus’ head perked up. Lucifer came in rubbing his temples and for a moment the two brothers made eye contact. Lucifer looked completely thrown off and his clothes from yesterday were slung over one arm. The clothes he was currently wearing were definitely not his. They were too big, too loose, too comfortable . It definitely was not a Lucifer look. It was an odd sight, and it took Asmo a while to process. Then it hit Asmo and his jaw dropped. He’d always joked and pressed about it, but really?

“Asmodeus,” Lucifer warned, eyes boring into Asmo’s very soul.

“No, you didn’t .”

“Asmodeus, do not.”

“Did you really-?”

“ Asmodeus .”

“You spent the night!” the last bit came out as a squeal and Lucifer rubbed his temples.

Asmo couldn’t believe it.Had he been right? Did his brother and Diavolo have a thing going on? He always thought it was obvious but-

“Someone drank a little too much when we went out and I couldn’t leave him,” Lucifer huffed, “So I made sure he was alright.”

“I drink a little too much sometimes and I’m able to come home and be by myself alright. Hypothetically.”

The only reason Asmo added that ‘hypothetically’ was because of the look Lucifer shot him. Of course, his darling younger brother would absolutely never go out and get trashed only to wander back to his room (or to Solomon’s) and crash. He was always fine though, so it wasn’t that big of a deal. Asmo could take care of himself.

“Come on, you can tell me! I love hearing all about romance, you know that,” Asmo begged. Was he being a hypocrite on multiple levels? Absolutely. Did he care? Nope.

Lucifer sighed and shook his head, “I like to keep my private life private Asmodeus. I do not speak on my relationship with Diavolo because I do not want to. That is that.”

“You could bring him over more…”

The two stared at each other once more. Both were withholding information that neither of them were willing to discuss.

“Don’t start spreading my personal matters to other people. I allow you privacy with your relationships, I only ask the same of you.”

Asmo huffed and fell back onto the couch. Yeah, Lucifer didn’t want to hear the juicy details of his relationships (which were always Asmo’s favorite part about hearing of other people’s relationships) only when things went wrong. Which… Asmo wasn’t completely mad at him for. He didn’t snoop around like some of his other brothers, and he had gotten Asmo out of a few rough patches with other partners. Sure, he could be a little overbearing at times and parental to a fault, but at the end of the day he cared. He didn’t want to see them hurt.

But Asmo could also take care of himself. Even if something bad happened. He could take care of himself.

After a moment, he nodded reluctantly and slumped down a bit, “Fine.” He watched Lucifer circle over to pat Cerberus’ head before heading off to his room, Cerberus in tow. “But can you tell me a little bit? Later. On your own terms?”

He still wanted to know… Lucifer always seemed happy with Diavolo….

Lucifer stopped and for the third time that night, a silence settled between them. Had Asmo gone too far? He was just about to slink away to his room and forget about his question when Lucifer turned his head to look at him. “Perhaps… We’ll see. Goodnight Asmodeus. Sweet dreams.”

And then he was gone.

Sweet dreams indeed .

That night, Asmo found himself surrounded by Solomon’s smokey aroma in his dreams. It was comforting and wonderful. He could help but think about how Diavolo and Lucifer had most likely been curled up together, and Solomon did the same to him in his dream. He held him closer than any partner had ever held him before. He allowed Solomon to take Secret’s place. To let those honey-laced words pour our in Solomon’s smooth, even voice. It was perfect. It was all beyond perfect. This was what Asmo wanted. Fuck his self restraint. He’d let his heart run wild. After all, it had to be Solomon. It just had to be . He couldn’t understand how it couldn’t be him. Besides, Solomon’s presence was welcomed, and a wonderful one to fill his dreams.

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imaginesmai · 5 years

Text

Bucky Barnes-Beautiful Ballerina

Requested by @peteyparkersbabyy, hope you like it! I know you said musical theatre, but I didn’t really know how to write about it; and I felt more comfortable with a dancer, so I hope you don’t mind.

Plot: Hiding your relationship with Bucky from the world was not easy. The worst part of it was hiding it from the mightiest heroes in the world; the Avengers.

For a assassin, he was being as loud as if he was carrying an herd of bells with him. He didn’t remember doing so much noise in his life. Leaving the compound had been the most difficult part; he had to avoid ten guards and Stark’s technology with a bleeding side, yet he managed to do it. In the streets, people had stopped to look at the big man with the metal arm and bruised face; that wasn’t what he liked to call discreet. The worst part was entering in your apartment.

The amount of times Bucky had to jostle the keys in the door alone should have woken you up, and he didn’t want you to worry. But he was lucky, as when he finally opened the front door all the lights were off. Though he knew he was walking on eggshells.

“Doll?” he whispered, waiting to see if you were awake. The last thing he wanted was to murder you of a fright.

Bucky carefully pushed the door closed and set his tactical jacket on the couch. He could almost hear you moaning about how it would get stained with blood. The cuts along his back screamed in pain, and he hissed. The only pain med he needed was your body close to him, not those pills Bruce wanted him to take.

That was why he was taking the risk, because he was desperate to feel you again. Despite the chance of the rest of the team finding about your relationship, he needed you. He had been on a mission with Steve and Natasha for two weeks, coming back bruised but alive. And, since he had rushed out of the helicopter, the only thing he thought about was his beautiful ballerina.

Careful of his ankle, Bucky pulled off the rest of his suit and tossed it aside, until he was only on his underwear. He checked quickly that none of his cuts were bleeding, the image of you painted with his blood unpleasant.

“James?” your groggy voice made him look to the bed, where you were laying on your side with your eyes half open.

“Yeah, it’s me” he sighed, stepping closer and placing his hand on your face.

“I didn’t expected you for another two days” you mumbled, not fully opening your eyes. You hummed when you felt his flesh hand on your cheek, and rubbed your face against it.

“Couldn’t let my best girl unattended” he chuckled softly and sat on the bed.

“Hm” you nodded. “I’ve missed you. Are you alright?”

“Just a little bruised” he shrugged it off, not wanting to worry you.

“What?” you opened your eyes and finally looked to the soldier in front of you.

Bucky had small cuts and bruises on his face, one of them making his left eyes close painfully. His torso was also full of small wounds, and on his elbow a big gash was gushing blood. A small frown appeared on your face, and Bucky cursed himself for waking you up.

“You’re bleeding” you stated, watching him with side eyes and full of the concern he didn’t want to bring on you.

“I know, but I’m okay doll. Really” he smiled at you reassuringly. “I’ll be fine in the morning.”

“Let me just bandage you” you said. Bucky got stuck looking at your sleepy eyes and cute pout.

Then, he sighed and nodded. He raised his hands an got up from the bed, knowing not to argue that. All he wanted was to lay with his beautiful ballerina, the sooner the better. Besides, he didn’t want to argue with you the first time he had seen you in weeks. You followed him as he walked towards the bathroom, and managed to slip your hand in his. Even his fingers hurt, but he smiled and squeezed your hand.

Bucky’s lips curved in a tiny smile as he looked at your sleepy face. It always marvelled him how, in nine months of relationship, you had cared for him in the same way. You pushed him so he was sitting down on the closed toilet seat, and began looking through the drawers for the first kid aid. Before you met him, it was full of band aids and things you could use for your feet. Until that day, it was filled with needles and painkillers.

“Stay still” you muttered, sitting down in front of him.

He knew better than to talk as you patched him up, so he just smiled at you while you worked. Plasters here and there. Bigger ones for bigger cuts, smaller. The worst part, for you at least, were the stitches. You took care of the cut under his eyebrow, then the one of his elbow and finally the other on his side. Each time the needle pierced his skin, Bucky saw as your eyes squinted in pain and you bit your lip. For him it was normal pain, nothing important, but it pained him seeing you suffer.

As you were finishing up, Bucky finally broke the silence, unable to help himself from feeling your warmth once more. He reached out to rest his hands on your hips as you leaned over him, his thumbs touching your hips.

“I’m sorry I woke you, doll” his face was turned up towards yours as you worked.

“It’s fine” you paused, only to cut the excess suture thread. Your hands fell on his broad shoulders, and you finally enjoyed his blue beautiful eyes. “I was up until late, anyway. Training and that stuff.”

“My beautiful ballerina” he pushed your closer and you giggled when his warm breath made contact with your stomach. Bucky placed his hands on your pyjama’s top and pushed it upwards, leaving soft kisses there. “I’ve missed you so much”

“Me too, James” you ran your fingers through his long hair. “And I’m happy you’re back. Will you be there tomorrow?”

As if he could have forgotten about it, he smirked. It was your big audition, something you had been working for years. Bucky had been with you every step you had taken, had trapped you between his arms when you thought you couldn’t do it, and actually had brought the first ticket for the show. It was impossible for him to miss it, and he had made sure of it by writing it down on his notebook, the calendar, had told Friday to remind him and there was two alarms on his phone.

“I wouldn’t miss it for anything in the world” he chuckled. He felt a lot better, with everything patched, his face washed and you by his side. Enough to bring you to sit on his lap.

Your hands moved to his cheeks, smiling softly, and you hid your blushed face on the crook of his neck. Leaving a quick kiss there, you let out a yawn. Bucky muttered an ‘I love you’ before stealing a gentle, brief but loving kiss.

His eyes fluttered closed for the short moment, enjoying being with you again. He cheered those moments, and feared the one when the rest of the world, including the avengers, found out about you. He couldn’t lose his beautiful ballerina.

When he opened his eyes again, he gazed up at you adoringly.

“Can we go to be now?” he faked a pout. “I really want to cuddle you”

“Yeah” you laughed, running a hand through his messy auburn hair.

You let out a surprised yelp when he hoisted you up in his arms and walked towards the bedroom. Bucky managed to turn off the light with his good elbow, and put you back in bed within seconds. He wasted no time in curling into your side and dragging you closer to him. You gave him one last forehead kiss before muttering good night.

“Love you, doll”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sweat dripped down your face and you panted for air. The world around you moved at a vertiginous speed, the movements you had practiced so many times in your house or in the gym flowing out of you naturally. You focused on the music, feeling it fly through you and letting you know what you had to do next.

“Getting tired?” your coach taunted, watching you from your side.

You swung your leg over your head, gripping your ankle and showing her a small smile, your attention still on the choreography. The song was going to stop soon and you would be another minute closer to the final performance.

“You wish” you managed to say. You could do that all day. In fact, you had probably been on it for more than two hours, repeating the motion until the final hour arrived.

Around you, everyone was getting ready. The instruments, the lights, the technicians and even the cleaners were rushing for everything to be perfect. For a second, you saw something out of the corner of your eye. You took a few steps to the side, not loosing the rhythm of the music; just changing your position. It was enough to look more clearly at what you had seen; who you had seen.

Bucky was standing behind the curtains, his hands on his pockets and his hair up in a messy bun. He was looking at you with bright eyes, pride filling them. Your heart leaped; it wasn’t the first time he had seen you training, yet it made you nervous. The music ended and you finished the choreography with some cheers, most of them from your loud boyfriend.

“Alright, everyone!” your coach clapped her hands a few times, grabbing everyone attention. “That’s enough for now, in two hours we meet here again!”

You and the other dancers made your way to the curtains. As the other took their time and chatted between them, you quickly took your bottle and towel and ran towards Bucky. Without caring about being in public, you pressed your lips together and wrapped your arms around his neck.

It started off as a regular kiss, but soon you were legally making out between the curtains just meters away from a lot of people. Bucky pulled away first, allowing you to regain your breath. Your chest heaved as you gulped down air, and you smiled at him.

“Hey” you gave you a quick hug before tearing apart. “I didn’t think you would come to the training.”

“Why not?” he raised a brow. “I love seeing you dance. Besides, I wanted to give you something before it started.”

Your eyes widened as Bucky looked through his pockets, a rather nervous look on his face. With an awkward cough, he presented to you a wrinkled paper with something inside. It was small and the paper ripped in one side, but it made a soft blush rush to your cheeks. His metal arm was presenting it to you, and you guessed his anxiety behind having it uncovered. So, instead of just taking it, you gripped his hand between one of your and took it to your lips.

“Thank you, James” you kissed the back of his hand, and he smiled lovingly at you.

“It’s-It’s nothing” he explained, as you opened the paper. “I know you talked about it a few months ago, and since I’m away a lot, I thought you would enjoy it. But if you don’t want it, that’s-“

“Oh god” you put one hand on your mouth, barely keeping yourself from jumping up and down in happiness. “James, you didn’t-you didn’t have to.”

In front of you, stood two beautiful army dog tags. One of them had Bucky’s name, old enough to let you know that it was the original one, that you had seen it hanging from his neck so many times. The other one had your name on it, shinier and with two perfect ballerina’s shoes printed. You closed your fist around it, waiting for it to disappear and for it all be a dream. Still, when you opened it, the tags were still there.

“This is a present for the victory” he whispered, walking closer and placing one hand on your cheek.

“I haven’t won yet” you chuckled, looking up.

“I don’t care, for me you’re already the champion” he lowered his head and caught his lips with yours. His warm and familiar hands snaked their way around your waist, pulling you even closer to him.

You gripped the collar of his plaid shirt under the jacket and tugged him towards you, wanting to be as close as possible, wanting him to feel how grateful you were for having him in your life. When you both broke away, you were grinning like idiots. There a few seconds of silence before any of you spoke.

“Want to grab something to eat?” Bucky asked. “I’ve brought some lunch.”

That was one of the many reasons you loved Bucky. He was the type of boyfriend who wasn’t afraid of asking in the supermarket about pads, and listened to everything the kind old woman had to say while people looked at him with weird eyes. Bucky kept in his little notebook every important event, had a small calendar for your period and in the last pages he wrote down things you said you wanted or liked.

He might had been the more lethal assassin of the history, but he was also the sweetest boyfriend.

Time flew by with him. You had lunch and talked in your free time, joking around and laughing together. He told you about the mission, as much as he could tell, and you explained him what was the performance about. Five groups were going to perform before you, and some individuals shows too.

“You’re gonna do great” he said. He was sitting on a stool on the cafeteria, in front of you and with your hand between his.

“I really hope so” you smiled at him. “You’re staying until the end, right?”

“Of course” he reassured.

“Won’t they grow suspicious?”

The worst part of keeping your relationship as a secret was Bucky’s best friend, Steve. He worried about him a lot, and always was asking him where he had been. When he finally came back from ice, he liked that; liked having a friend who could help him with all those modern things. But it had become a little difficult to hide you from him.

“Probably” he sighed, looking down to your hands. “They have asked me this morning about where I was last night.”

“And? What did you told them?”

“That I needed to take a walk”

“They believed you?” you frowned. It was hard to trick the avengers, and you had found yourself running away from Bucky more than once. Steve had almost found about you two once, and Bucky had had to lie to him saying that he was with a prostitute. Since then, the captain hadn’t followed his friend.

“I think. I’ll be back when this ends” Bucky looked to you and gave you a sad smile. “I would have liked to treat you dinner.”

“It’s fine” you said. “Maybe on Saturday.”

“You’re too good, doll”

The mechanic voice interrupted your talk, as it called out for all the participants of the show to present themselves in the main hall. You breathed deeply and stood up, folding your hands on your back. Bucky picked up his backpack and nodded curtly at you.

“I’ll be in the first row”

“As long as you’re not gonna throw tomatoes at me” you teased. “That bag seems awfully suspicious.”

“Damn, you have caught me” he chuckled. Bucky stepped closer until your feet were touching and you looked up to him. “I love you. Take care”

“Love you too”

You kissed his lips and grinned as you waved him goodbye, running out of the cafeteria with another two girls.

Bucky stood on his place with an idiotic smile, watching you go. Shaking his head, he walked out of the room towards the main salon where he was going to watch you. He thought about the first time meeting you, how you had crashed into him in your morning run and he had throwed you a few steps back. Even though it had been his fault and Bucky was embarrassingly aware of that, you had apologised and accepted his metal arm to pull you up. When you didn’t say anything about it, he thought he could fall for you right there.

The performance, as everything you did in his eyes, was amazing. You moved right and left across the stage, your feet not touching the ground and your body talking for you. While you danced, he felt a strange pressure on the back of his neck. He thought nothing of it, too happy watching you do what you loved the most. Still, the third time he noticed it, he turned back ready to snap someone’s neck.

The song finished, the people clapped and cheered and some of them got up. You made a small bow and searched through the crowd you boyfriend’s blue eyes. Your breathing was laborated and you could hear your heart beating in your ears. The lights were blinding you and your coach was calling you from behind the stage. Still, all you could focus on was on Bucky’s back, that was turned to you. His tensed shoulder, his aggressive aura.

And the fact that he was facing Captain America, who was looking at you with steel blue eyes.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You had thought about that moment a lot of times. Bucky bringing you to the avengers compound, and Steve Rogers shaking your hand, saying that he was happy that his friend had found someone like you. Maybe having lunch with them, meeting them one by one. Natasha was one of your probably ‘superhero-crushes’, besides Bucky, of course. You had imagined a lot of possible situations, but neither of them were up to the real one.

While you walked to your dressing room, you didn’t pay attention of your surroundings. You just wanted to change so that you could go back to Bucky and be with him while he talked with his friend. Your coach had given you a few encouragement words and had left to do other things, leaving you an amount of thirty-forty minutes to change and meet your boyfriend..

The loud shouts and crashes should had been enough, but you thought they weren’t coming from your dressing room. Some girls got into fights, or were so excited that made a lot of noise. What you had never seen was all the avengers suited up in your dressing room.

As soon as you opened the door, the argument stopped, and everyone turned to look at you.

“W-Wh-what?”

That was all you got out before Iron Man’s fist were in front of you ready to blast you out. You didn’t register the scream that left your lips or Bucky’s body shielding you, not when Hawkeye was aiming at you and Captain America was looking at you with those threatening eyes.

“She’s not! I promise, she’s not HYDRA!” Bucky shouted in front of you. “She’s-She’s a ballerina, she was acting today!”

“Why the fuck have you been sneaking up to see her?” Tony asked, not lowering his hands.

“That’s none of your business, Stark”

“Bucky, we only want the best for you” Steve took a step forwards. You cowered behind him, gripping his leather jacket with your fists. “Give her to us, and I promise I will make sure she’s well taken care of.”

“Barnes, out of the way” Natasha said, trying to aim her gun towards you. You felt tears pooling in your eyes, not understanding what was happening.

“Steve, you’ve gotta believe me. She’s not from HYDRA, she has nothing to do with this” he tried to convince his friend.

“Then why is she involved with the Russians, hm?”

Bucky looked back at you for a second, but came back to argue with the avengers. It was true that he had problems with them calling you out of being related with the Russians, yet he knew you wouldn’t back cross him. Ever. He was willing to prove that to anybody.

Meanwhile, you wanted to laugh. It was all… ridiculous. For being the avengers, they weren’t that smarter. You let out a small chuckle that didn’t pass unnoticed by Tony, who threatened you once more to blast you against the wall. Steve and Clint tried to make him wait, to talk to Bucky, while this one shouted at him angrily. Natasha stood on her feet, watching you with a curious smirk. Finally, your timid and low voice was heard between all the riot.

“It’s… this is just a Russian ballet” you mumbled, and everyone fell quiet for the second time in that room. “I’m not related with the Russians, I just perform their… dance?”

The only thing that was heard was Natasha snoring loudly and Clint trying to keep down his laugh. Tony looked around the dressing room, as if he had suddenly realised where he was; certainly, it didn’t look like a secret base to sell weapons. Neither a place where Bucky and you were planning to ruin the world. Steve sighed and let his shield fall to the ground with a loud noise. He was getting tired of being carried away by Tony’s paranoid ideas. Once more, they turned out to be wrong.

“What the fuck did you think we were doing here?” Bucky frowned, not understanding the embarrassment in their faces.

“Well, that’s-that’s a good question. What exactly? We didn’t know, that was why-“

“Tony thought you were working with HYDRA again” Natasha interrupted Tony, who turned to look at her with annoyed eyes. “She was supposed to be your contact here.”

“No!” you shook your head, poking out of Bucky’s back. “I’m just his girlfriend!”

“I’m-what?” Tony blinked, surprised. “I’m sorry, I must have heard wrong, did-“

“Didn’t know you had a girlfriend, pal”

Steve was the first one to step forwards, ignoring Tony’s stuttering. He stepped in front of Bucky, who, with short nod, let him be in front of you. Steve Rogers was as tall as your boyfriend, as broad and similar to a giant in front of you. You expected his hand to be rough, and his handshake to be harsh, yet it was a feather touch.

“Steve Rogers, I’m Bucky’s pal” he grinned, shaking your hand. “Nice to finally meet you, I’m sorry for earlier.”

“Oh, don’t… it’s nothing” you chuckled, folding your hands together again. “I’m, uh, I’m Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Are you sure you’re Mr Metal Arm girlfriend?” Tony asked, pointing you with a finger. He moved it up and down, as if he couldn’t believe it. “I mean, you-this is a joke? A prank? If this is because Clint’s cereals, I swear-“

“What about my cereals?” Clint asked, as Natasha shook your hand too.

“Nothing” she rolled her eyes. “Nice to meet you too.”

“Yeah” you managed to say, your heard on your throat.

Clint approached you and greeted you too, while muttering about his ear aids and missing cereals. When everyone had greeted you, you went back to Bucky’s side, and gripped his hand. He send you a small reassuring smile and placed a soft kiss on the top of your head, whispering how amazing you had been out there.

“Why is she your girlfriend?” Tony asked, once more. “I just-don’t get me wrong, it’s cool. But you don’t, that’s not your girl, Barnes!”

“And why not, Stark?” Bucky asked, rolling his eyes.

“Because-Because she’s pure! Come on, she a ballerina! Cute, innocent, small. The kind of girl who has stuffed animals!”

“I don’t have-”

“Sorry, darling, this is not against you” Tony interrupted you. “What I’m saying is that, why are you dating someone like her, while you are… you?”

“Tony, that’s enough” Steve gripped his arm and started walking out of the dressing room. “I’ll see you outside. Sorry again, Y/N. I hope we can meet again.”

“Sure” you laughed, rubbing you hand up and down Bucky’s arm.

“Wait, I was not- Y/N! Go the compound!” his voice disappeared as Steve dragged him away. “I have questions!”

“You will grow used to that” Clint assured you, before walking out with a quick goodbye.

“I’m leaving too. Bye Y/N, hope to see you soon” Natasha said, and you just nodded shortly. “Oh, by the way. You did great back there.”

The red head closed the door behind her, and you didn’t say anything for a while. Without the four avengers, the room seemed much smaller. It felt empty, and the silence in it felt welcoming. You turned your face to Bucky and hugged his torso, his arms instantly wrapping around you.

You were still wearing the black tutu you had for your performance, but it didn’t forbid you from pressing your body against him and enjoying the hug. Eventually, you looked up to him and saw his nervous eyes. On your tip toes, you reached your lips and kissed them.

“I’m sorry for them” he whispered, looking to the right. “It was probably the worst way of meeting them.”

“It’s okay” you said, and giggled shortly after. “She said I did great.”

“What?”

“The Black Widow” you muttered, your cheeks hurting from the big smile you had on your face. “She said-She liked my performance.”

“Of course she liked it, doll. It was amazing” he laughed, his heart filling with love at your nerdy attitude. “I’m sure you will win.”

“Probably” you shrugged, and kissed him again.

Bucky’s life was not easy. He suffered from constant memory loss because of HYDRA, had nightmares and couldn’t live without an eye on his back. The fear, the guilt, they ate him away. Yet he had you, by his side and, no matter what, loving him. Even when four avengers threaten to kill you in a dressing your.

“But” you giggled again, when you teared away. “She told me I was great.”

Bucky laughed, a full belly laugh. It was not easy, but he had his beautiful ballerina.

Want to know more about me? Here is my Masterlist! Feedback is always appreciated!!

#bucky barnes #bucky imagine #bucky one shot #bucky x reader #bucky #avengers #avengers imagine #avengers x reader #avengers one shot #imaginemai #winter soldier #winter soldier imagine #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier one shot #request

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filthysweetie · 4 years

Text

James Bond drabble

Prompt: “Dear Diary...”

missed a day >.< this one is begging to be a longer story, but i had to cut it so i can finish packing...note that there’s a brief description of torture in this one.

Edit: This now has a sequel here if anyone wants to read it :)

———

Dear Diary,

Let it be known this is done under duress. Apparently, not being a bloody field agent does not get you out of psych evaluations and ‘recommended’ methods to cope with ‘high stress levels’ and ‘worrying tendency to identify job performance as self-worth’. I bet they didn’t make Boothyard do this. You get kidnapped once and then everyone suddenly thinks you’re a delicate flower.

Hell, Bond got kidnapped (I guess it’s just called captured when they’re agents…which actually is now making me quite offended that when I was taken it was called kidnapping) on 7 of his last 15 missions. I don’t see him writing a damn diary about it! (Although god, imagine that.) Besides, what’s the point of keeping a diary if it’s mandated and also!! Your psychiatrist will be reading it? Maybe I should start writing in code. 01000110 01110101 01100011 01101011 00100000 01111001 01101111 01110101 00100000 01000100 01110010 00101110 00100000 01011001 01100101 01101110 00101110 ——— “What is…that?”

Q turned, not the least bit surprised to see James standing there behind him. He had a mission coming up and was obviously ready for his kit. Q did a little ritual over the case, always so sad to see the fine pieces of machinery go when the chance of them returning was so dismal. Instead of focusing on the kit, though…Q followed his eyes to the little journal on his desk. It was covered in stickers (most of them shiny, some of them hello kitty gifted by a little one on the tube who got three on before he or her mother noticed) and attached in the pen holder was a pen with a fuzzy feather top. It was rainbow.

Can’t blame the man for noticing it, it was a rather stark deviation from the normal color pallet and maturity level of Q’s desk.

“Oh, that old thing?” Q pat the top with a little more force than necessary, “my psych assigned diary. I figure if they choose to treat me like a child I may as well oblige.”

James took a moment before speaking, “And what, pray tell, made them think you need it?”

Q blinked, “Does that mean you’ve done it too?” That was a bit of a surprise. The double-o agents seems to thrive on their disregard of ‘normal’ coping, of medical, and of psych all together.

“Answer the question, Q.” James had the audacity to roll his eyes.

“Now I’m very curious,” Q can’t help it, “what do you write in it? About the girls you like? About more interesting ways to destroy my tech?”

“Mostly survivors guilt.” James says, nonchalant.

Well, that answers that, “Oh…” damn it, now he’s obliged to answer James’ question regardless of if this is an interrogation tactic or not. He gives a half shrug, “Dr. Yen assigned it after the kidnapping.”

“Excuse me?”

“I know, I thought it was all very much over the top as well.” Q fights a sigh, “Now your kit—”

James shakes his head, “No, wait, you were kidnapped?”

Q blinks, ignores the chill that goes down his spine; “I knew they didn’t release that on the official channels but I assumed you’d know none the less.” Q clears his throat, “Now, your kit.”

James quiets then, but there are a lot of questions behind his eyes. Who’s to say if Q focuses on his tech a bit more than he normally would. ——— Dear diary,

I didn’t realize it had been kept quite so secret. I should have known, we are a spy organization. But I was {Q hesitates over the word, crossing out kidn and captu wishing suddenly that he was using his standard pencil instead of this purple inked mess of a pen} gone for 11 days. I guess I figured they would have told the double-os at least, maybe brought them in to help find me. Not that I needed anyone’s help, of course, I mean I got out of there myself, didn’t need anyone rescuing this damsel.

But the fact that {Ja is scribbled over fully; must remember that this will be read} there were agents I’m the primary handler of that didn’t notice at all. What excuse were they told when I wasn’t on the comms? Would they have just kept been given excuses until the forgot to keep asking?

My cats were fed, at least. Moneypenny thought I would come back, or at least held out enough hope to not sell my apartment and put my cats in a shelter after 11 bloody days.

R had been searching non-stop—bless her, I think she needs this exercise more than me. Poor girl looked like she hadn’t slept since I’d left; keeping all the missions on track while searching for me. It was her and Riley and Sunil that found me on the security footage after I got out of that place and got me a pickup. It’s not like I was forgotten or anything. {Why do I feel forgotten? Q stares at the line in it’s stark purple ink for a long moment before crossing it out. He doesn’t want to talk about that with himself, let alone Dr. Yen.}

Regardless. R has finished debriefing me on all active missions that I’d missed some portion on, and overall everything is going well. Testing of the new laser pen fell behind during my absence but it’s to be expected. It will give me something to do tomorrow when most of my active agents are in transit. ——— “Q, Sir, we really need you in the pit.” Laila said, standing at the threshold of his office, seeming a bit more frazzled than normal. There are no alarms (auditory or silent) going off around her, so the attitude was a bit perplexing.

Q puts the soldering iron down on it’s stand and takes off the magnification glasses, replacing them with his own, already getting up and heading towards her, “What’s the matter?”

“Sir, one of the agents is being belligerent; requesting to speak only to you before moving forward with his mission.”

That’s a new one; “Alright then, transfer the secure line to my station please, Laila.”

It’s always nice, walking out to the floor, seeing his people working away. Standing at the center of it is like being cocooned within the greatest minds of London. It’s safe.

“Yes?”

“Q”Jame’s voice is instantly recognizable, “I’ve arrived in Paraguay and will be rendezvousing with the contact at 1430.”

Q waited. Nothing.

“And?”

“That is all.”

Q blinked, glad that James couldn’t see the confusion that must certainly be coving his face, “You called me away from my prototypes to give me a standard mission update that you could have given to any one of my people?”

“Had to make sure you were still around, Q”

“Still—” it clicks, “Oh. Well. Yes, I am very much still around.

“Good.” Is that a smile in his voice or is Q projecting? “I’ll check in again after the rendezvous.”

Q’s throat clicks, dry; “I’ll be here.” ———— Dear Diary,

When will this little experiment be over? It’s been a half month! I haven’t got much free time at all, and wasting it in this damn book isn’t helping anyone. Least of all me. ————— “I notice you haven’t actually written anything about the kidnapping?” Dr. Yen asks, looking through his entries with a clinical eye.

“I much prefer to call it capture.” Q says in leu of an answer. The sticker covered mess looks silly in her hands, but she seemed to have enjoyed his take on ‘making it his own’ even if he’d been doing the antithesis of that. Granted, some of his minions have added stickers to it too—so next to hello kitty is a ‘back it the fuck up’ sticker in fancy script with an old school desktop monitor showing the phrase, and a sparkly unicorn that Trevor insists is from his kids but Q has his doubts. If he leaves it on his desk unattended, when he comes back there are always new stickers. No one ever opens it, respecting some privacy that doesn’t really need respecting (it’s not like there’s anything of substance in there), but it’s a nice gesture none the less.

Dr. Yen smiles, “Of course,” Q wishes she were a bit more of a dick like Dr. Reynard had been—it was easier to dismiss someone when they were being an ass, “I notice you haven’t written about your capture—or escape for that matter—at all. There are some references to it, but no detail. Do you have any thoughts on why that is?”

Q takes a sip of tea. It is nice that these meetings are uninterrupted tea time—though he could do without the conversation.

“There’s nothing important to say about it.” Q set the mug down, making sure to be gentle about it, “it’s all done, and I don’t exactly plan to get kidna—captured again.”

Dr. Yen gives an amused smile, “no one really plans to get captured at all.” Then, “Sometimes the act of writing down an experience”—she stopped using ‘traumatizing experience’ a while ago, Q did not have a traumatizing experience, thank you—“can solidify it in our reality. It may be difficult to do that at first, but once it is solidified, we can begin to process it in a healthy way.”

“It’s already written up in the after-action report.”

“Yes, but that was what happened, not how it felt to be going through those things.”

Q rolls his eyes, “do you want me to write a soliloquy on how sad and lonely it was and how I felt abandoned by MI6 and made peace with my death? Or maybe how it transformed me in ineffable ways and I have a new lease on life?”

It was so annoying to lay on that perfect level of sarcasm to have it disregarded so thoroughly, “If that’s how you feel, yes.” God she’s so earnest.

“Well it wasn’t” Q snapped out. He picked up the mug again and took another sip. Setting it down extra soft, with barely a ‘clink’ on the glass table, “Excuse me, I must be more tired than I thought.”

“Not to worry,” Dr. Yen smiled, “your job is stressful any given day of the week, it’s certainly understandable. Please do give it a thought though as you go through this week. Sometimes putting things to paper allows our minds to ‘get it out of our system’ instead of having it linger in our subconscious.”

“Very well. I will give it some thought.” ———— Dear Diary,

Lets give it the old college try, shall we?

I admire James Bond. He’s one of our best field agents, though his record for returning his tech is abysmal. He seems to come back from the brink of death more times than a cat and never seems to let it affect him. Always ready for the next mission.

I want to be like that. He’s been through so much, the loss of M, the burning of his home, the burning of so many false starts at a normal life, and he comes back and he may be battered but he’s still whole. Undoubtedly whole. I get kidnapped once and now I can’t even get a good nights sleep unless I’m folded awkwardly on the little couch in my office, and of course that sleep is poorer for other reasons.

I know I’m capable, I know I can destroy countries and get myself out of most any situation that I find myself in, but I didn’t realize exactly how that situation would affect me. I haven’t lost confidence in my abilities, but maybe loss of confidence in my security? Is it just a waiting game to see when I’ll next be thrown into the back of a van, drugged, and then wake up in a windowless room, IV in my arm strapped to a chair with no fucking idea how much time has passed? When will I next find myself threatened and beaten? The soles of my feet slashed, so dehydrated that I can’t put my head up without feeling dizzy?

Obviously I can survive it. I have.

The thought of it happening again…it’s terrifying. And it can happen at any time. And I thought I admired James because he looked like a good lay. Maybe it’s because he seems unbreakable and I worry I’m already broken. ———— Q stared at the pages for a long time. Was he supposed to feel hollow?

He tore them out, crumpled them like a secret and then lit them on fire. This was a spy organization after all, no point in letting that level of weakness get out. ———— Dear Diary,

Laila got a new corgi puppy. Despite being a cat person, I have to admit it’s quite cute.

#007 #james bond #q #00q #if you squint #drabble on #i fancy myself a writer #tw: torture #dear diary

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matrixaffiliate · 4 years

Text

Quarry

Chapter Update! FFN and AO3

I'm way too excited about posting on February 29th, but it's the little wins that get us through the day to day. I hope you get some little wins today. Chapters 51 & 52 go up on March 6th.

Chapter 50

Lily:

Lily reasoned that it wasn't much to ask. She simply wanted to have some time with James, unattended, and why not have it be when they were planning to draft the letter to Petunia. It shouldn't be a problem to request that Elias and Marlene leave them to their own devices for an hour.

So why did she feel so nervous bringing it up?

Her new dresses were beautiful, James had sent the dressmakers the evening they'd discussed sending the letter, but that was a week ago and things had simply been busy. There were so many little details that came with running a country and James pleaded to have her at every meeting he could justify her presence at. With all this work came the reality that Lily and James hadn't had a private moment since their archery outing.

And Lily was starting to realize that it was affecting her greatly. She took comfort in her observations that it was affecting James as well. They reached for each other constantly. James often held her hand through most of the meetings she attended. Lily turned toward him every chance she had. Any time she could touch him she did. She knew her way around his palace now but still asked him to guide her, just so they could have a few moments to talk of things outside of the business of running Godric's Hollow. It was her little reprieve from the hustle and bustle, but Lily had realized the day before when the business of Godric's Hollow had crept into their few spare moments that they weren't enough. She needed more.

And a small corner of her heart admitted that she needed him.

So she batted her eyes and asked James to schedule in writing the letter to Petunia at some point tomorrow. That had gone smoother than the silk of her dress. Now she just had to summon all her training on being a calm and collected princess as she sat with Marlene in their sitting room after dinner - James off at a meeting with an ambassador from one of the countries across the ocean - and secure the second part of her plan.

"Have you had a chance to visit with Sirius at all?" Lily tried to look bored as she gazed out the window. In truth, she wasn't looking at Marlene for fear her sister would see right through to her intentions.

"Here and there," Marlene shrugged, but Lily didn't miss the small smile that graced her lips.

"I wish we could be normal people," Lily sighed, trying to say everything exactly how she had rehearsed it in her head. "Then you could spend all your time with Sirius."

Lily felt Marlene's eyes on her and focused on looking out the window.

"I appreciate your investment in my happiness, but what exactly is the point you're going for?"

Lily resisted the urge to bite her lip, "Just that it would be nice for both of us to be able to choose. I love you, please don't take this the wrong way, but we're forced to be together all the time. Normal people don't have that in their lives."

Lily felt Marlene's penetrating stare and summoned all her courage to turn and face her.

"Who would you like to be spending time with, Lily?"

Nothing in Marlene's voice was accusatory, in fact, Lily would have called her tone supportive, which felt a bit odd. But Lily decided to capitalize on it while she had the chance.

"I just wish I had some time to talk with James, you know? How am I supposed to figure out if I actually love the man if I don't get any time with him that isn't focused on running a kingdom?"

Lily forced herself to breathe as Marlene smiled at her.

"I think I can help. Let me talk to Elias and Sirius. Would you be alright with starting where we have you stay in James' study? Once Sirius is back to guarding James I'm sure we can expand where you get to be to other places but Elias is a bit of a traditionalist."

It took all of Lily's self-control not to squeal in delight, but she let her smile shine bright across her face.

"Would you? His study would be fine. I just, when we were traveling I spent most days talking with him, and now it feels like we get to say hello and goodbye and then we go to our rooms and do it again the next day."

Lily let out a sigh and looked out the window for a moment before turning back to Marlene.

"I miss it, I miss just talking with him."

Marlene moved from her chair and wrapped Lily in a hug.

"Then let's make James give you a bit more of that priority he gave you while we traveled across the continent."

"So you'll talk to Elias tomorrow?"

"I'll do even better," Marlene smirked and walked to the door to their rooms.

"Our runner is going to fetch Sirius for us."

Lily frowned, "But Sirius isn't fully recovered yet."

"But he knows how to approach Elias so that Elias will do what we ask." Marlene relaxed back into her chair with a happy sigh.

Lily tried to keep her smile from giving away the humor she found in Marlene's eagerness to send for Sirius.

Sirius didn't waste time answering the runner's request either and joined them within minutes.

"Now then," he sat on the arm of Marlene's chair, "how can I help you lovely ladies?"

"Lily would like some time with James without having guardians in the same room and without discussing matters of state."

Sirius furrowed his brow as he looked down at Marlene.

"The idiot hasn't already done that!?"

"Sirius!" Lily chided, but he shook his head.

"No, Lily, if my brother hasn't made time for just you then he's an idiot, King or not." Sirius shook his head. "Leave it to me, you'll have a blocked out time at least once a week by tomorrow morning. Honestly, you'd think the man had no brain!"

Lily felt a bit taken aback by Sirius' response, but she really didn't want to lose out on guaranteed time with just James, so she let it drop and changed the subject.

"When do you get to take back your post, Sirius?"

Sirius huffed, "Remus wants me to wait another week at least, he'd prefer three. I might just make James command him to change his timeline."

Lily laughed and then had an idea that she hoped would get her a bit more in good graces with Sirius and Marlene.

She forced a yawn and sighed. "I'm pretty drained from all the meetings today. I'm going to turn in. But you two enjoy each other." She smiled at Marlene encouragingly. "I know the way, you can protect me just as well from the sitting room as you can from your room."

"Let me walk to your room," Marlene shook her head, "Sirius will wait a moment."

"I'm quite good at waiting actually, as long as I get rewarded for all my efforts to do so." He grinned.

Lily rolled her eyes but smiled as she addressed Marlene.

"Fine but after you make sure there are no monsters under my bed, spend some time together. I know you've had less time together than James and I have. No reason both of us should suffer."

Marlene smirked, "Should I consider this a royal command?"

"If it makes you do it then yes," Lily laughed before pushing up out of her chair and heading for her room, Marlene hot on her heels.

"Thank you," Marlene said quietly as they entered Lily's room.

Lily turned and hugged her sister tightly. "All I want is for you to be happy. You gave up everything for me, let me give something back."

Marlene squeezed her once before letting go. "You're going to want all the details in the morning aren't you?"

Lily blew her a kiss as she started changing. "You can bet your oath on it."

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ask-asuka-x-shinji · 5 years

Text

Right. Several days ago on my personal, I said i had a decent idea for an Eva fic and if It was gonna go anywhere i’d post a preview here. This is very much a preview version of chapter one, while I try and remember what I did with my Ao3 account’s password I’m gonna really clean it up and add a lot more dialogue and a probably another scene or two. Also this is very much not the verse I RP Shinji and Asuka in, I’m using mostly different headcanons for this. Mari Ikari the protag, her friend Hana and her yet to appear love interest Wing were all created specifically for this idea.

I’m Mari Akahime Soryu-Ikari, age 14, student at Tokyo 3 City Middle School class 2-A hobby Kendo special skill artistic composition, yes it’s a very long, rather stupid name. Mari after a friend of my late grandmother’s and Red Princess because I have my mom’s bright red hair and it was her own stupid nickname as a kid, not sure how either of us would qualify to be called princess though my understanding is mom was wild and violent as a kid and i’m pretty rough looking myself.

My mom drives me really crazy, I have the great distinction to be the daughter of former child genius and ‘great foreign beauty’ Asuka Langley Soryu, a woman with two children and no idea in the slightest how to do housework, no actually it’s probably that she has no interest in ever learning. Shortly after my brother was born my dad left the military to become a musician full time, he usually works from home but occasionally he goes on tour like he has been the last few days leaving us in her care. I think even my dad just wants to get out of this house now and again. I really don’t want German food in my lunch box, it’s bad enough being German without eating meat and root sandwich spreads. The stupid penguin doesn’t even find that crap edible. She’s not even awake yet, i’m make my own lunch!

Our current house is actually pretty nice. Well equipped kitchen, my brother and I both have our own bedrooms, I can easily make a few decent rice balls to avoid my mom’s cooking.

“Good morning, you’re up early you don’t have extra practice this morning do you?” And there she is, not dressed fully and yawning like she didn’t even sleep to begin with, she has work at the same time whether dad’s here or not. I bet she played video games all night, again. Asuka Langley Soryu-Ikari, Age 29, Professor of Theoretical Evolution Tokyo 3 College of Sciences, hobby mixed martial arts, special skill, being a pain.

“I’m making lunch, if I didn’t you’d send me to school with something weird and you know it.”

“Well how much is lunch from the school store, it can’t be more than...”

“No! We can’t be so careless with finances, i’m old enough to make my own lunch and one for Eren, you need to get dressed and shower and so forth! You should be the responsible one here mom, so don’t you anything stupid like standing here all morning arguing with me.”

“Hey! I need to make some coffee. You should try doing a job that mostly grading papers when you’re an adult, it screws over your brain.”

“Whatever. I think other things have screwed with your brain from your youth.”

“oh Clappe!” She squeezes by me to get the electric kettle while pouting like a teenage girl and muttering under her breath.

She had me very young. What’s probably way too young as you could tell from our ages. I know people like to whisper about it when they think neither of us are listening. Everyone says that she had a breakdown that ended in getting pregnant, but clearly she got better, better enough to get that ridiculous doctorate in a field that no one else understands, while dad never even went to college. But her mother had been famous scientist all the Soryu’s had been for years and years so she wanted to follow in their legacy. She’s such a pain. Although grading papers from students who can’t follow you must be a pain I can’t begin to understand what she’s supposed to be teaching.

It isn’t long before i’ve got those lunches made and get my brother out the door. Hana is already waiting for me outside. Hana Aida is probably my closet friend and has been since we were little. She’s a giant robot fangirl and knows probably more about NERV then my parents who actually worked there. Her cousin is pretty much the same and has been dad’s friend since school although he’s even more out there than she is. People used to call her a freak, but then I got in the habit of beating them senseless and they stopped, of course I got into trouble but also every time I did, my mom was actually incredibly proud of me.

“Red and Little Eren, a good morning to you on another average 90 degree day in Tokyo’s useless autumn, time to work our buts off at school and suffer for it huh?” Hana starts out with.

“My teacher said there is no Autumn in East Asia.” my brother replies confused before he frowns and turns to walk the other way to kindergarten not staying around for an explanation but still confused.

“I think he usually doesn’t understand a word of what you say Hana just don’t take it too personally.”

“I don’t.” She really didn’t did she?

“So what are your plans for tonight Red? Do you have more babysitting or can you come over? I could use your eye for detail, you are a born artist.”

I should probably avoid leaving my mother and brother alone together for too long if I can, but really he’s too young to mind her so it should be fine, it’s not like she’s dangerous just absent minded. She won’t feed Eren penguin food or leave him unattended so it should be fine to hang out after school, it’s not like this hasn’t happened before and isn’t just a constant part of life.

“I’ve got nothing pressing and it would be nice to get out of the house. What do I need to get?”

“Now now, I’ve got everything technical, that’s just who I am after all... if such a thing exists for the creation fan art, Ohana Aida has it, or is gonna barrow it from a relative.”

I think she’s just being nice to a degree. Even if our house is pretty nice now and everything, When i was younger the three of us lived in a one room apartment that my dad had as a NERV officer and when I was born apparently we are all crammed into one bedroom of Colonel Katsuragi’s old place. It’s easy to not realize exactly how bad off you are as a kid, but when you get older you realize how stupid that is. How innocent you were not to see makes you angry or at least it makes me angry. Family pride doesn’t pay any bills and I can’t say the Soryu family has anything else.

And like that, I didn’t pay attention to my classes and the day is very much over. I need to relax and I feel like hitting something or someone, I promised Hana I'd hang out, so not hitting anyone.

I guess I should explain since I didn’t earlier what Hana and I actually do, I get so fed up with my family that this narrative is suffering. Like I said my special skill is artistic composition and Hana writes some really bad manga so I’ve been helping with cover art and the like for awhile now... of course you probably have guessed that’s not entirely it.

A basic benefit of being the daughter of the two of the first actual Mech pilots to ever live is a family resemblance. The type that allows you to model both your parents to you’re mech nerd friend for her art. A decent wig and contacts later and if you didn’t know I might as well be Rei Ayanami we basically have the same face after all.

It’s never actually bothered me that Hana does this or that I’m helping. Only A handful of people actually know what it was like back then and my parents certainly aren’t talking about it to me. Dad says they met on the deck of a battleship I’ve heard only a few million times that they had some kind of rivalry over who was the better pilot. But specifics? It might as well be the stories from Hana’s comics, so helping is... a way to see Dad how he used to be.

Of course, the tsundere girl with the catch phrase ‘don’t be so stupid’, and a firm belief in the bright future that the UN represents for humanity can not be my mom, no way, I sort of like that versions, of course I helped write her and sadly enough based upon myself.

It’s late by the time, I actually feel brave enough to come come.

“I’m back, Hanna says hi and wants to borrow some clothes, should I get started on dinner or are we eating something weird yet again? next time please have said leave us dinners.” no reply, the lights are on. I finish taking my shoes off and... and both my mom and little brother are curled up on the floor of the living room fast asleep, the TV still on. She really didn’t sleep last night did she? They’ll be awake when they smell dinner.

“...Misato put some actual clothes on, don’t stand there like that for Shinji to see and don’t fix us anything weird for dinner just order a pizza like a normal person... what? are you stupid, there’s nothing traditional about instant anything...uh...” and I heard all of that, she’s sleep talking and probably has been.. of course you could guess that’s not why i’ve stopped dead, that actually might as well have been me complaining couldn’t it? best not to admit i heard anything and walk slowly away to start cooking. Right...

#evangelion #fanfic #neon genesis evangelion #ooc

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insearchofgatherings-blog · 4 years

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Full Brightness

One

I always took the train to London.

I made up excuses to my many friends with an affinity for swiftness by air. The train took you to the centre, not to Gatwick. Once you factor in the airport bus, it’s probably faster than flying. I like having a table, not a flimsy piece of plastic. Babies don’t scream from decompression. And even the most absurdly hypocritical (for myself), but would always strike a nerve with my environmentally obsessed peers – “the train is electric; flying is one of the biggest consumers of fossil fuels”. I was never one to truly put the environment above my convenience, but I loved how that one shut them up.

But the real reason was one of my few irrationalities – I just have a romantic connection to rail. I love the sound, the views, the ability to wander around, the automated machine coffee that they serve to you in a little paper bag as if it compensates for the taste. Flying is clinical and cold. Airports are places of fear and anxiety; train stations are places of long farewells and slow departures.

They say that for important people, time is everything, and commuting must be as quick as possible. It can’t cut into their important meeting time or their important coffee time or their important phone call time. But glancing around Coach F I can see more men in suits and women with short hair on phone calls than any 50 quid Manchester to London RyanAir flight.

I liked to imagine that they were CEOs and COOs and Chairmen and Chairwomen and that my irrationalities of train travel were also found in highly successful people. I bet Vice would write an article about that. These 10 Weird Habits of CEOs Will Amaze You. Probably more Buzzfeed than Vice. I don’t really read any of that, but the headlines pop up in my feeds against my will on an almost daily basis. A morbid curiosity into which of my friends like them has kept me from blocking the sites completely. But in reality, Phil sitting next to me is just an underling, a scrapper.

He’s set up in the most bizarre way, with one of those tablet-come-laptops propped on the table, wired into the solitary mains plug between our seats. It has a small fold-out keyboard, one that looks like a fake child’s play-toy, without even tangible buttons to press, just marked out character zones to tap on. But despite taking a six or seven-minute interval to retrieve all of this, he’s responding to his emails by phone, the tablet-laptop left unattended as he single-fingers his way through family summons and requests for documents.

A few years back I had made wearing sunglasses at all times part of my core existence. I think it originally started as a joke, but they quickly became something I was uncomfortable without, to the point where I collected three or four pairs of £2 Primark trash lenses just in case I couldn’t locate them when leaving the house. It had nothing to do with the sun, or even general aesthetics. And to this day, I’m not convinced that anyone else has those reasons either. Sunglasses hide your soul, and they allow you to look into the souls of others. It almost feels like a superpower - the ability to look at people, to see every nuance of their movement, expression and emotion, whilst never intruding them with the uncomfortable insecurity of knowing you are watched.

I had been reading Phil’s emails and texts for nearly an hour now, and he was none the wiser. What first caught my eye was the rather absurd signature on his phone emails – “Sent from My Phil’s iPhone X”. I liked to imagine it was a power move. A subtle humblebrag about how busy he is, and that yes, he did have time to respond to your enquiry, but only on his phone and with minimal effort given to email formalities.

I had the window seat. Forward-facing, with a table. The trifecta, as I called it. Trains aren’t like airlines, who charge you out the nose for any sort of upgrade in comfort. If you book it far enough in advance, all you have to do is check the boxes and more often than not you’ll get it. Occasionally, if it was one of the trains that came through from Inverness or Aberdeen beforehand, there would be someone in my window. I took no pride in booting them out, but it was a necessary evil to be able to endure the tough stretch between Peterborough and London when the carriage that began at 20% capacity now stretches to over 100.

I found that as long as you tuck a bag of necessities underneath the seat and go to the toilet beforehand, the four and a half hours is more than tolerable without being able to move. And spreading out while there are no coinhabitants in your compartment detracts fellow spreaders from joining you, only those with few possessions dare sit next to me when I’m at full spread. Still, I do look forward to the return journey, when the carriage capacity inverts, and the final stretch north of Newcastle is completed in a near-empty space with ample room to fire books across the full four-seater and go for exploratory wanders to the closing café car.

I had my laptop out, full brightness. I liked to believe that other people were as nosy as I was, and were constantly looking at what I was working on. I worked best in these environments – cafes, trains, even libraries. My personal penchant for procrastination seemed to disappear as soon as someone else could see what I was working on. It was a touch pathetic, no doubt, but I reasoned that as long as it worked for helping productivity, I was fine with the superficial reasoning.

I always wanted to seem more important and more busy and more creative than I actually was. No scrolling through social media, no films or TV, no reading the news. Just work, or perhaps something that looks mysteriously creative. I wanted the person next to me to think I was a genius or a savant or something above my natural ability. I had dozens of excel spreadsheets that looked like chaotic labyrinths of formulae, and despite their true use being quite simple, the look is all that mattered.

I had opened one that I wasn’t even going to work on today. It had several columns involving a calculation of individual standard deviations, which always requires several formula-heavy helper columns, packing it right out with numbers and increasing its aura of complexity. In reality, it was a spreadsheet that compared cafés across towns in England. Manchester was still winning.

It had been open for about 20 minutes, and I hadn’t touched it, nor even come up with a plan of what I was attempting to do. It was there as a placeholder for other, less sophisticated forms of computer-based procrastination.

I liked to remind myself occasionally that it was okay to shelve productivity and just look out the window for a while because otherwise, my obsession with the forward-facing window was almost pointless. The passing of a train through countryside is oddly captivating, and you can find yourself getting lost in the never-ending flow of towns and farms and animals and power plants and small stations that pass too quickly for your eyes to register the name on the sign. The East Coast Main Line was my regular, but occasionally if I could justify the extra hour, or if the advance ticket turned out cheaper, I’d take a West Coast train just for a change of scenery.

Sophie wasn’t happy that I was taking the train, but I refused to budge. Arriving in at Heathrow at 0500 this morning, a first-thing flight meant I could meet her there, at the airport, at around 7 or 8. A train meant I’d be in at midday at the earliest, and at King’s Cross, not Heathrow. I’m only there for two days, she insisted. Come on, gotta make the most of it. I told her I had already booked. A lie.

I hadn’t seen Sophie in nearly two years, since she vanished to Australia in search of some lost youth. There’s a special visa that they give for ‘young people’ to ‘experience the world’ that lasts for two years. I seem to recall that her haste to leave was brought about by the realisation that, at 29, she was about to miss the cut-off for eligibility.

Her long-awaited return to the UK being only two days told us more than enough about her trip away. She didn’t want it to end or couldn’t go back to England or some endless combination of clichés that seems to possess those who go outside their comfort zone ten years too late. Summoning the girls for a girls’ weekend epitomized this neo, post-crisis Sophie perfectly, because a quick glance at the group of six invited (and three further declined) showed a list of people that had probably never all been in the same room at the same time. I knew all of them to varying degrees, but none as closely as Sophie, and I’d wager the majority of the party felt similar.

It all made sense when Emma mentioned that there was a man now. My mind went off at this news. If I wasn’t already interested in this ‘girls weekend’ for general anthropological reasons, the news that the biggest misandrist and most publicly gay member of the group of queers that ‘the girls’ seemed to be loosely constructed from had now straightened up and got a man was so tantalizing I could taste it.

It also, less importantly, explained the brevity of the weekend. All the couldn’t stand going homes and man, fuck Englands and other clichés are normally abandoned when people return home and realise they don’t have much choice, but the talk on the channels is that this man is Portuguese, and that is where they’re leaving Australia for, London just being a stopover.

Everything about this seemed so hilariously, laughably, unbearably straight. I had always known that Sophie’s publicly overt lesbianism was a cover for something more complex and further along the spectrum, but she would never be seen dead admitting to sleeping with men in her university years, let alone running off to some country she’d never been to with one. Even the notion that this group ever was the girls and ever did things like girls' nights is nonsense. It reeked of something she’d spun her new man, trying to pass as a regular old straight who didn’t attend protests fortnightly just for the thrill of breaking the law.

I hadn’t even given a single thought about what Sophie might have planned for us. Emma, who no doubt had individually messaged everyone else in the entire group with the man gossip, spun off a list that I promptly ignored. I didn’t like going into events like this with expectations. I wanted the drama to slap me in the face, to take it head-on. And boy I needed some of that drama.

#creativewriting queer lgbt queerwriting scotland england queerauthor

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tipsycad147 · 5 years

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60 Second Magic: 15 Quick & Easy Spells

Julie Hopkins

We’re busy witches, I get it. We go through life juggling jobs, family, dog walks, dentist appointments, and trips to the DMV… and that’s just the beginning. We love our magic and we want to honour that part of ourselves every day, but sometimes we just don’t have time for a full-on ritual.

The good news is, magic doesn’t have to take a long time. For those schedule-packed days, here are fifteen spells that will weave magic into your life any time, any place. If you have sixty seconds, you have time for a spell!

1. Mirror Messages Spell

When you see a window, mirror, or any surface that has fogged up with condensation, draw a sigil with your finger to create a little magic on the go. You can draw a pentacle or a sigil with a meaning specific to your intention. You can even write a word or two that represents your spell. As the water vapour lifts, it will send your spell up into the sky. I like to use this spell on car windows for safe travel.

2. Think Of Me Spell

This powerful spell is perfect for families, ex-lovers, friends, or anyone you don’t get to see every day. The goal of this spell is to connect you to your loved one through thoughts and mental images. As you perform this spell, you’ll think of them, and wherever they are in the world, they’ll think of you. It’s really beautiful!

Find a picture of the person you want to connect with. It can be an actual printed photograph, digital image from social media, or on your phone.

Hold the photo (or your phone) in your hands and create a sense of quiet around you. To do this, imagine a white or gold light coming down from the sky and surrounding you. This will allow you to create a sacred space for magic even in the most chaotic settings like a subway train or a busy office. I love to perform this spell in a peaceful spot outside, but sometimes that’s not possible. Wherever you are is fine!

Begin by looking at the image of the person, focusing particularly on their eyes. If any emotions come up while you’re doing this, just allow them to flow through you.

Now think of a happy memory you have with this person. Let the memory play out in your mind from beginning to end as you gaze at the photo.

Finally, hold the photo (or phone) to your heart and imagine a shiny, glowing thread shooting from your heart across the miles, oceans, continents, whatever, towards your loved one. See the thread connecting to your loved one’s heart.

Send a specific message to this person if you’d like by imagining your words travelling along the thread to reach this person.

Allow the thread to fade away, and your spell is complete. If the person doesn’t think of you immediately, be patient. Sometimes it takes a little time.

3. The Introverts Spell

This spell isn’t just for introverts. It’s for anyone who needs a boost of confidence before interacting with other people, such as at parties, speeches, job interviews, or family dinners.

Start by creating a sacred space around you and connecting to your power. Next, interlace your fingers behind your back. If that’s uncomfortable for you, simply relax your shoulders down away from your ears. Imagine your shoulder blades drawing together as your chest and heart opens up to the space in front of and above you. Speak (or think) an affirmation while in this position.

Example Affirmations:

“Everything I need is within.”

“The power of the Universe flows through me.”

“I’m magic.”

It doesn’t matter what you chose to say as long as it’s positive and makes you feel ready to face the world. Saying something like, “I will not mess this up.” won’t work because it puts the focus on “messing up”.

4. One Card Draw

Grab your favourite magical card deck and ask, “What do I need today?” Then draw a card. If you’re using an oracle deck or tarot deck, use your intuition to connect with the meaning of the card. Notice if the card’s meaning shows up anywhere as you go through your day.

If you don’t have a “magical” deck, use a regular deck of playing cards. Ask, “What do I need for today?” and draw a card. Remember the card’s number and if you see that number anywhere, pay attention. It could be an important message. In addition to the numbered cards, you can think of jacks as elevens, queens as twelves, kings as thirteens and aces as ones.

5. Bedtime Crystal Grid

I like to perform this spell right before I go to bed. Select a few crystals that support your intention for the next day. You can find the meanings of specific crystals online, or you can pick crystals that you feel drawn to for whatever reason.

Line the crystals up on your nightstand, close your eyes and imagine your intention shooting up into the sky. Leave the crystals on your nightstand overnight and wake up knowing you’ve grounded your day in magic.

6. Cleansing Shower Spell

This spell should be saved for that moment when you need to get rid of negative energy fast. This is the spell to do after a difficult conversation, a disappointment, or getting a parking ticket. When you get caught in some negative energy, close your eyes and imagine water cascading down your body, washing away all the bad. You can visualise yourself in your shower, under a waterfall or standing in a gentle summer rain. Allow the power of the water to restore your balance.

7. Morning Drink Ritual

Create a witchy ritual around your favourite morning drink. It doesn’t matter what your drink of choice is. Coffee, tea, orange juice, and water will all work for this ritual.

As you pour the liquid into your cup, bless it by thanking the Universe for providing you with nourishing fluids. Set an intention for your day as you savor your drink. Notice any elements of nature that are in play here. There’s the water in your tea, the coffee beans come from the earth, and the steam represents air.

8. Intention Jar

Get a jar and place it somewhere you know you’ll notice it at least once a day. Set a pad of post-its or notecards beside the jar along with a writing utensil.

Whenever you have an intention you’d like to manifest, write it on the paper and drop it into the jar. This intention can be super specific like, “I make fifty thousand dollars a year.” or it can be something vague like, “Patience”.

Whenever you want to review your intentions, pick one from your jar and spend a moment visualising that intention.

Discard any intentions that no longer serve you.

9. Charged Water Spell

It’s great to take advantage of sun or the moon energy to charge your water. Witches do this by leaving a jar of water in the sunshine or moonlight for several hours. Water that has been magically “charged” is a powerful elixir that can be used for drinking or in spells.

Sometimes we don’t have time to set water outside for an extended period of time though. An alternative is to “charge” your water with a sun or moon visualisation.

To do this spell, hold a jar of water in your hands and close your eyes. Visualise a bright beam of sunlight or moonlight shining down from the sky into your jar of water. Spend a minute visualising and try to get all your senses involved. “Feel” the warmth of the sun and “listen” to the soft chorus of nighttime sounds when visualising the moon.

10. Gratitude Nature Spell

Whenever you come across something that reminds you of nature like a flower arrangement, a lovely view from a window, or a plate of fresh fruit, take a moment to send a thank you to nature for bringing so much beauty to your life. When you connect with nature, you connect to your power.

11. Money Magnet Spell

Place a citrine crystal on top of your wallet to attract money. Green crystals work, too!

12. Energy Breath Spell

Use this spell any time you need a burst of energy or a quick way to calm down. I love this spell because it uses your body and breath to power your magic.

Sit in a comfortable position and close your eyes. Create your sacred space around you. Just like in the “Think of Me Spell”, I like to envision white light flowing down from the sky and surrounding me. Next, connect to your power, wherever it comes from—your deities, your intuition, the Universe, etc. Set your intention to either relax or energise.

Relaxing Energy Breath Spell: Bring your attention to your breath and imagine that the air you’re breathing is laced with a cool, calm energy. Breathe in at a normal rate and breathe out very, very slowly. Let your inhales shorten and your exhales lengthen. After five breaths, open your eyes and the spell is complete.

Energising Energy Breath Spell: To make this spell energising instead of relaxing, imagine a warm, bouncy energy in the air as you breathe. Make each inhale longer than your exhale. Do this for five breaths to complete your spell.

13. Easy Breezy Spell

Whenever you feel a gust of wind or a gentle breeze sweep over your body, take a moment and send out an intention, a thank you, a wish or an affirmation. Your message will ride on the wind and be carried up into the universe.

14. I Feel Pretty Spell

I like to do this spell before a date, but it’s great for any time you want to enhance your physical appearance. Light a candle and place it in the room you’ll be getting ready. Keep it lit while you comb your hair, put on makeup, shave—whatever you do when you want to look your best. When you’re finished, admire yourself in the mirror and bask in your beauty. Then extinguish the candle.

Note: Be safe when you’re using fire magic. Never leave your candle unattended.

15. Share The Love Spell

Whenever you encounter someone who is acting a little grumpy, use this spell to send them love without them even knowing. As you’re looking at the person, draw a heart (or any loving symbol) on the surface nearest to the person. If it’s the cashier at the gas station, draw the heart on the checkout counter while you wait for him to give you your receipt. If it’s your boss at work, draw your magical symbol on a folder you leave on her desk.

Now Go Out & Make Magic!

There are so many ways to seamlessly integrate magic into every day life. I invite you to use these spells in your practice or change them to fit into your specific lifestyle. As a witch, you have the power to use magic anywhere!

https://thetravelingwitch.com/blog/2018/5/10/15-spells-you-can-cast-in-under-60-seconds

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graceivers · 7 years

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Review #41 - Egomaniac

Egomaniac Author: Vi Keeland Genre: Contemporary Romance, Lawyers, Single Parent, Workplace Romance Rating: ★★★★½ Recommendation: worth reading; might read again Summary: Emerie Rose unceremoniously meets Drew Jagger when she mistakenly thinks he’s breaking and entering into her office when in fact he is the owner of the place that she’s been scammed into renting. Despite their vastly different jobs, their constant banter and mutual attraction leads them both down a road together neither of them foresaw.

Female Lead: Emerie is a solid female lead. She’s patient and understanding, which is key to her character considering she’s a marriage counselor. She’s not stereotypically overly idealistic and optimistic given her career choice but in fact very realistic. And we see this through her sessions with her various clients. What more, you can practically feel how invested and passionate she is about her job—how she genuinely likes helping people where she can, how she loves seeing progress and success come from her work, how excited and happy she is at the opportunity to both teach and counsel. I mean, if we all could have enthusiasm for our jobs like she does, that would be amazing.

But not only that, Emerie also shows a good amount of independence and spunk. Keeland does a good job of showing off Emerie’s personality through things like her limited Krav Maga skills, her love for burgers, her movie themed dinners, and even going toe-to-toe with Drew when they’re bantering/arguing/flirting. She doesn’t shy away from him but rather is brave and confident enough to call him out and give it back just as good. I think Emerie is a very well-balanced and three-dimensional character, which is why I really liked her. Male Lead: Drew Jagger! Okay, so the first half of the book or so, Keeland wrote Drew kind of a stereotypical and obviously egotistical dudebro/player kind of guy. To be honest, that kind of guy as a male lead is not my favorite, but I could tolerate it and normally get through a book without any further incident or damage. Again, the first half of the book, Drew fits the bill for this image: a guy that enjoys the company of ladies for sex only, wealthy and attractive and egotistical, speaks whatever is on his mind without thinking about it beforehand because he doesn’t care and has no filter, etc. If that had carried on for the entire book, Drew wouldn’t have been my favorite dude, but again, I would’ve still gotten through it all the same.

But then we got mature, responsible, adult, father Drew Jagger! AND THIS MAN. This man was the guy we deserved. This was the guy I fell in love with and cared about. This man was the best and suddenly skyrocketed to one of my favorite male leads ever. You could tell how much Drew loved his son, Beck, given what he had to deal with, what he sacrificed, and how he still acted no matter what. And then when Keeland inserted that mature, responsible, adult Drew into his relationship with Emerie? God, that was everything. Seriously, nothing’s sexier than a true man—an adult who has his life and priorities together even when obstacles are thrown at him. Yes, even in the latter half, Drew still has dirty and unfiltered mouth, but it was dampened in favor of MATURE, RESPONSIBLE, ADULT DREW, and the appearance and permanence of the latter was a significant reason why I enjoyed this book so much. Plot & Writing: Egomaniac is one of those books where the summary doesn’t give you much or is slightly misleading in that it only tells you just the beginning and leaves the rest basically a surprise. Those books don’t always work out so well for me, but in this instance, I was super happy with the way everything turned out.

Though there was no literal separation, I thought the book really had two defining halves. The first half was all about the witty banter and budding attraction between Drew and Emerie. This section almost bordered on romantic comedy for me. It was pleasant and fun for the most part, but I wondered where Keeland was going to go with it and if and how the author would keep up that kind of tone. Drew and Emerie definitely had their meet-cute moment, and again, Drew acted like the wealthy, attractive, egomaniac by checking out Emerie and riling her up all the time. This first half did adequately set up a solid relationship between Drew and Emerie in regards to their work relationship (which I will get to later), a general friendship, and of course the sexual tension between them two. I liked this first half, but I loved the second half.

Like I mentioned before, the second half is basically all about adult Drew. He’s a single parent and fighting to keep shared custody, and I don’t want to sound like a broken record, but this is the Drew that sold the entire book for me. Once we establish a relationship between Drew and Emerie, the book becomes far less about the witty banter and whatever unfiltered thing that comes out of Drew’s mouth and instead it becomes about two adults trying to make a relationship work given their respective problems. Drew has to battle his trust issues and fight to keep seeing his son. Emerie has to figure out where she stands with Drew when she’s been hung up on some other guy for years. THEY ACT LIKE ADULTS. I can’t stress enough how much I loved that. Despite the fact that the tone of the latter half was slightly more serious than the beginning half, I applaud Keeland for moving the book in the direction that she led it. She could’ve stuck with the cutesy and ‘egomaniac’ thing, but she didn’t, and that was probably the best decision she made when writing this whole thing.

One thing, there was a minor loose end that kind of irked me. When Drew said he was moving to Atlanta because that was where his son was, Roman, his best friend, said to give him a little time because he was onto something. Roman repeated that when he visited Emerie. What was that something? It was never expanded upon, just dropped and ignored. Am I supposed to just take it as whatever Roman had planned didn’t pan out? Sure, maybe, fine. But then why wasn’t it explained or mentioned again? I know it sounds so insignificant, but I personally thought that was left unattended. I mean, I loved the way the book ended regardless, but still. What was the point of that if Keeland added it in? Why didn’t it have any resolution, even if it was a minor ‘nevermind, it didn’t pan out’ kind of deal?

Also, another minor note. I categorized this as a workplace romance. The line there is slightly blurry. Is Emerie an outright employee working under Drew? No, not exactly. They share office space, yes. While Drew’s real assistant is out, Emerie does some secretarial work for him kind of in exchange for that temporary office space. Does she get paid for that work like a real employee? No. But there was still somewhat of a work relationship between them two, even if it was significantly downplayed, and it was enough for me to subsequently categorize this as a workplace romance (of sorts). Secondary Characters & Plots: Roman was great. I thought he played a nice role as Drew’s best friend and eventually became rather close with Emerie too, even if only towards the end. Of course, Beck was such an adorable kiddo. And yeah, like it was touched upon in the book, no biology was necessary to know that Beck was Drew’s kid in every way that mattered.

Alexa was a piece of work. Seriously. Keeland was very clever in what we saw of her in that all her scenes were interactions with Drew except for that one time she met Emerie face to face. And by that time, I was already sold on Team Emerie, so Alexa’s presence and attitude there and then only further cemented how much I disliked her. We never did see any interaction between Alexa and Beck, which again, I found super interesting and smart because we couldn’t exactly judge if Alexa was a good or bad parent (though we were inclined to believe bad given that she tried to take Beck away from Drew) and we didn’t get to know anyone’s stance on her parenting skills, Beck included.

I would have liked more friends for Emerie. All she really had on her side was Baldwin. To be honest, his character was a little confusing and yet predictable at the same time. I agreed with Drew; Baldwin kind of stringed Emerie along, so much that she moved to New York and lived next door to him only for him to parade around women in front of her! I got the feeling that Baldwin always considered Emerie as his fallback, his second and backup choice, and Emerie did not deserve that even if she never fully expressed her feelings for him. I actually would’ve liked if they stayed friends, but I’m pretty sure that didn’t happen… Favorite Part(s): MATURE, ADULT, FATHER DREW. Or really, just Drew being a dad to Beck. From giving Beck his kidney, always being there for his visitation times, to making sure Beck had a stable life, it was all amazing. The scene where Drew told Beck that he was his stepdad and he might be seeing more of his biological father? There was a need for delicacy and patience and love in that situation, and I loved the way Drew handled it as best he could by giving Beck the facts and yet asserting that he would always be Beck’s dad and he would always love him and be there for him. I seriously can’t get over that Drew; that’s a guy you want and keep. Final Thoughts: Egomaniac was a very pleasant surprise. Again, the summary doesn’t give you much about where Keeland takes the story. I was so surprised and happy with where the plot went and what I read. It had solid characters, a shifting but good story, and still enough spark and passion between the two leads for a good romance. I would definitely recommend Egomaniac as a worthwhile read.

#book: egomaniac #author: vi keeland #genre: contemporary romance #genre: lawyers #genre: single parent #genre: workplace romance #rating: four and a half stars

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roinish · 7 years

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A week ago, a friend's home burned to the ground around him. This has inspired me to contact my local fire department, state fire marshall, and other resources to put together this information in hopes of saving lives and heartbreak. Be safe everyone!PREVENTING HOUSE FIRESWe all know basic fire safety, like "Don't leave candles unattended." But how many of us follow this policy strictly? Do you blow out a candle if you are leaving the room but intend to be right back? Well, you should!I spoke with my state fire marshall, and they reported that a majority of house fires could be prevented through proper fire safety, and that families with a fire evacuation plan are several times more likely to survive (and even be able to recover more possessions due to calling 911 earlier) by having and practicing a fire evacuation plan.Let's finish talking about fire prevention, then I will move on to talking about how to respond to fires (evacuation plans, how to use a fire extinguisher, and other important items).Never leave candles or other open flame unattended.Avoid laying down to read or rest (you could fall asleep) while burning candles or while you have something in the oven.Learn proper fire safety for your kitchen. Ffor example, this is what happens if you try to deep-fry a frozen turkey...don't do it!Teach your kids proper fire safety rather than simply telling them "don't play with fire." The more they know, the less likely they are to play around with fire and end up hurting themselves or property.Make sure that anything flammable is kept away from any heat or flame source. Many candles have decorative items that are NOT fire safe, such as fake flowers. Just because you see it for sale does not make it safe. Think before you buy, and avoid placing any flammable items near flame/heat sources.Replace worn electric blankets and other items where wires get bent and can spark arks over time.Prevent fireplace accidents by installing a screen to prevent sparks and making sure that ashes are properly cooled before throwing them away. Ashes can stay hot in the middle unless you use water and stir the coals to make sure that it is thourally out before moving the coals to a metal trash can for disposal.Don't try to do electrical work yourself unless you happen to be one of the millions of people trained to do electrical work safely. If you do decide to do your own electrical work, make sure that you are insured for it!The city fire department said that small motors (such as typical bathroom fans) can malfunction if left on for long periods of time. Make sure to let things cool and not over-work fans and other items.Do NOT overload your electrical sockets! It may seem fine to plug in just one more thing, but you should never plug in more than what is safe for your home. Do not plug in more than one power strip per outlet, and never chain together more than one exension cord or power strip.PREPARING FOR and RESPONDING TO HOUSE FIRESWe all know better fire safety than what we actually do. Just like we all know better driving safety than what we practice when we're thinking about work, dealing with kids fighting in the back-seat, eating fast-food, and talking on our hand-free cellular.Let's all strive to be more aware of the things we could do to be more safe on our roads and in our homes. Here are some ways to prepare for and respond to a house fire to make sure that you and your family survive, and that you lose as few possessions as possible:Develop a fire evacuation plan that includes at least two ways out from every room in your house. If you cannot think of at least two ways out, consult your landlord or local fire department to devise solutions so that you can still get out if your prefered escape route is blocked.Practice your escape plan in the dark or with your eyes closed, as you will not be able to see in a house/building fire! People think that fire will make light, but the thick smoke from burning plastics and other things produces thick, toxic, smoke that is very different from a camp/other intentional fire. Please, be prepared to get out without being able to see!!! That can save your life!Teach your children to look for firefighters, and familiarize them with how they look in smoke and full gear. Too many kids hide from firefighters and end up dying because they were scared and didn't know what to do. Don't let this happen! Let's teach kids better fire safety!!!Practice meeting at your designated emergency meeting spot so that your child goes to look for you there instead of staying in the house to try to find you. Remember that house fires spread quickly, so every member of the family needs to know how to quickly get themselves out as you will not be able to find each other in the smoke and still make it out before the fire blocks evacuation paths. Get to your meeting place then send trained firefighters with proper equipment in to go find anyone who is missing.Teach your children to crawl or crouch to avoid breathing as much of the highly toxic smoke that comes from burning plastic, household chemicals, and other things you don't want to breathe. You need to be able to feel your way out while staying low and not being able to see. PRACTICE THIS!Talk about fire safety regularly, and practice your plan. This will help make sure everyone knows what to do in an emergency.Learn how to use a fire extinguisher! Most people don't feel comfortable using a fire extinguisher unless they have been trained to do so and practiced in non-emergency conditions.Make sure that your fire alarms have batteries and are properly installed at the highest point in every room. Do not place a fire alarm above/near a ceiling fan, as that can prevent smoke from entering the alarm. Also be sure that no one paints over a smoke alarm as that can block smoke from entering the alarm.Place fire extinguishers near the entrance/exit of your kitchen, garage, and accessible in your living spaces. You want an extinguisher close to your kitchen, but not too close to the stove so that a fire does not prevent you from getting to the extinguisher.Insure yourself and your things. Some people don't realize how expensive their things really are until there's an emergency. If you don't think you have anything worth insuring, go add up the cost of all your clothes (socks, underwear, business clothes, casual clothes, shoes, etc), the cost to replace all your dishes, cooking utensils, furniture, your bed, any hobby items you might have, your computer...and if you think it's too expensive to get the insurance, compare the cost per year of insurance versus the cost of trying to replace everything all at once. It's worth getting renter's insurance!!!ADDITIONAL SUGGESTIONSHide an emergency key on your vehicle so that you are never locked out. This protects you from locking yourself out of your car, and helps in a fire so that you can move your vehicle away from a burning structure even if your normal key is in the burning building.Keep duplicates of important documents at two different locations. Not every document can be protected. But, important things like child support records, documents justifying tax write-offs, or other important documents should be copied either digitally or paper and stored in two locations. Backup everything you can't afford to lose!Update your insurance on new purchases, and do a regular inventory of your things to make sure that you are covered for all of your things.RESOURCESFire safety for kids.How to party safely.Create your own disaster kit for floods, earthquakes, and other emergencies.If anyone has any questions, please ask. I'm making it my mission to learn more about fire safety and to share what I learn in response to this tragedy. Please, protect your family. Check you fire alarms, locate and know how to operate fire extinguishers, practice your fire evacuation plan, and always ASK IF YOU ARE UNSURE!!! via /r/LifeProTips

#IFTTT #reddit

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katesdailyscramble · 5 years

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High-Context vs. Low-Context Cultures

Day: 11/9 – 4:52PM

Mood: hungry, slightly anxious and stressed

The sections of Maximizing Study Abroad that we have been told to focus on are on context and communication, specifically on high-context vs. low-context culture and how they impact the ways we communicate. High-context cultures seem to be more indirect with their communication and may convey ideas or desires through physical actions, facial expressions, or phrasing of words without actually saying what they mean or want. Low-context cultures are the opposite, and tend to be more directly or blunt with their communication, outrightly saying what they mean and assuming others will do the same. Both types assume that others will share their communication style (since they are used to sharing one with others in their culture), and the issue here comes when cultures mix – thus why we are learning about it in relation to studying abroad. When I took the assessment regarding our personal type of communication, as well as what we assume our host and home cultures' to be, I found that my style was typically more similar to my assumptions about my host culture most of the time. I imagine Americans to be more direct, assertive, and extroverted regarding their communication and personalities, and I am somewhat different from this. I have talked many times here about how I am an introvert and afraid of confrontation, mostly because I am afraid of others responding negatively to me/the potential social consequences of hurting someone's feelings if I critique them in some way.

A situation that I immediately think of regarding this is something I have dealt with for the past few weeks. It is very small and unimportant in terms of my life, but it aggravates me a lot. I work in a place on campus where there is free coffee and tea offered, along with mugs to use. My position is as a tutor, and so I use the location for tutoring sessions and as a general place to study and work since I have access to the normally locked room. I may be there for hours to use the space, and so I observe a lot of what happens in there. There are specific students assigned to take care of the room, at least five or six, and they are paid to clean it, replenish services, and complete any projects assigned to them by the director. However, I see a lot of them in the room only working on their own homework, etc., and simply getting paid for sitting in the room. Sometimes I see a few clean, but that is it.

My main qualm is the mugs, which the students are paid to clean. My friend who graduated last year had this job (along with at least three other students), and she would wash them every single week. However, these have sat dirty in the rack and unattended for weeks this term – eventually, I got so fed up that I took them to the bathroom and washed them myself. It took ten minutes, and I didn't mind doing it, but I shouldn't have had to; they should be doing their jobs. I talked about it to one of my friends who is one of the workers – I felt I could be candid with her – and she simply said she didn't want to do it. So, I did it again for a second time a week or so later, and as I was leaving the room with them in my arms, one of the students actually showed up and asked, “Do you need help?” I blanched for a second, then replied “No,” and left to wash them. It was the smallest thing, completely inconsequential, but I just??? Do I need help doing your job??? No, I'm totally fine, but … it would be great if you did the work you're paid for.

I'm pissed thinking about it even now, but this is a great example of my communication style – if I have an issue, I become more passive-aggressive about it, or simply don't say anything to resolve it on my own. I've thought of telling the director about it, but I don't want to seem petty or be disliked by these students. So, I will likely continue washing the mugs for the rest of the year. I am sending out a high-context signal that may not even be discernible to the low-context 'receivers', but it matters more to me to avoid confrontation and have clean mugs than to stir up something unnecessarily to get mugs cleaned bitterly (at least, I'd rather have them cleaned by bitter-Kate than by bitter-someone-else-who-is-mad-at-Kate). Someone more assertive and comfortable with low-context communication would likely bring up the issue directly, but this is not the case for me. Or, at least not with people I don't know well – I was okay talking with my friend, but not others. I think this is more of a personal and situational difference than a cultural one, but I can reflect more on this topic tomorrow.

Day: 11/10 – 11:21PM

Mood: tired, anxious, okay

I've never really tried this method of writing about a topic or prompt multiple times in a row, so it will be interesting to see what I talk about tonight. I thought of something yesterday when I was first encountering these different types of communications based on context that I forgot to mention, and so I will discuss it now. The comparison between the two types and the kind of miscommunication and irritation it can bring reminded me of the classic (and sexist) scenario of a straight couple making a decision, or talking in general. The girl may have an issue or problem with her partner, making it clear with her facial expressions and body language, but saying that everything is “fine” or that “whatever” he chooses will be okay with her. The boy takes her words at face value and proceeds to act as if nothing is wrong or make whatever decisions he wants, and the girl is angered and saddened by this. This generates further animosity from her and exasperation and defensiveness from the boy if she reveals her issue with the matter. While this scene perpetuates the stereotypes that women are 'impossible' and men are unobservant/uncaring, I think it applies to the two styles. In this occurrence, the hypothetical girl is exhibiting more of a high-context communication style where she expects the boy to properly read her symbols and take her feelings into account before he acts, while the hypothetical boy is in a low-context world where he believes she will communicate to him directly if something is bothering her. They have trouble understanding each others wants and expectations about communication, and so it would be beneficial for their relationship to learn more and accommodate to each others' context level.

Another scenario I feel may apply to these ideas, especially in terms of American low-context culture, is the act of subtweeting and the response around it. Tonight, I saw on snapchat that some of my friends had hung out today without me, and I felt really bad about it. I felt excluded, especially since I had just told them yesterday that I missed them a lot. I know they have no obligation to me to invite me to everything they do together, especially since I live farther away from them, and I really want to respect their autonomy and not seem bratty about it – I know there could be a million reasons why they didn't tell me about it, and I don't think they would ever purposefully exclude me. Still, I was hurt by it, and to get some of my emotions out (which I am thankfully doing here), I had the desire to post on Twitter. This would be a terrible idea since Twitter is our basic mode of communication, and the only way I could have done it would have been to subtweet, or relate my feelings on the situation indirectly. Regardless, it would have been petty of me and I would have felt bad, so I kept my feelings to myself. But this is where I believe it gets interesting – why is it petty? Why is throwing shade looked down upon? Besides typically being a way to communicate negative thoughts or ideas about others, I believe subtweeting and shading are seen negatively because they are indirect forms of communication relying on high-context. The person is not outrightly saying what they mean, but only hinting at their feelings and the situation.

In the U.S., a low-context society, we are expected to be assertive and direct with people if we have a problem with them, and high-context communication like subtweeting is seen as cowardly (and, occasionally, even more aggressive than addressing an issue straightforwardly). I even saw this view in myself when reading our text and coming upon the example of the cold room – someone from a high-context society might comment about how cold it is or visibly warm themselves without asking directly to turn the heart up. I can imagine that if I were a bystander in this scenario, I would either do nothing, or, if they were being particularly obvious about it ( – the words here I want to use are 'dramatic' and 'annoying', which both have negative connotations. Is my ethnocentrism showing? – ) I might become irritated. This hypothetical response shows that I do indeed come from a low-context society which is embedded in my thinking patterns, and so I will need to be more conscious of this as I interact with others in the future. The ultimate thing I always want to strive for is to be kind and try to understand people, and I think this will especially be applicable with intercultural communication situations.

Day: 11/11 – 11:27AM

Mood: content, a little stressed, cold

I feel like I'm always describing my mood as anxious or stressed, which I usually am, but it makes me wonder if I need to change something in my life (haha). It's only been relatively a few waking hours since my last journal entry, but let's see if I can discuss these concepts of high-context and low-context cultures a bit more.

I imagine that coming from low-context American culture and going into high-context Japanese culture could be a bit easier for me than if the types of contexts were reversed. Being low-context with my communication, I am more used to asking questions for clarification and if I have any problems with doing something. The text described that this could be difficult since I could ask the questions at the wrong times, but I think it would be easier to ask for help than never ask or receive it since you are not directly communicating your needs. I also feel that even though Japanese culture is high-context, I clearly appear and act like a foreigner, which may make them give me leeway in terms of norm-based behavior or give me more direct information than they normally would. This is not a guarantee, but I think it makes sense – I will have to test out this theory when I get there.

I also wonder how my knowledge of the language would impact this – will the naturalness of my speaking make them forget somewhat that I don't know cultural norms, or will it be negligible since I am so clearly still a white, American foreigner? I think this would definitely be influenced by how natural my speech sounds, but I wonder how that factor would compare in terms of the weight it holds relative to others. Overall, I think it may help that I am more reserved and will not ask questions or something I feel unsure about until I have thought over it many times in my head (anxiety again – hm, maybe this is an issue?), so I do not think I would blurt out too many questions. Still, I have no idea how exactly I am going to behave in this context, and that lack of knowledge is something I will have to deal with. I am not good at dealing with the unknown, but I am sure the experience of studying abroad will help me gain practice with it.

Day: 11/12 – 11:12AM

Mood: cold, anxious, unmotivated (but trying to feel better)

So far in this journal, I have talked about my thoughts on high and low-context cultures, some phenomena in my life which resemble them, metaphors which I think have interesting applications, and my idea of how interacting in a culture with a different context will be for me. From my examination of the concept from multiple angles, I think the main thing I've gathered is that I need to be more attentive and observant with my communication so that I can have a better chance of at least noticing the symbols others are sending to me, even if I do not necessarily have the tools to interpret them properly. With intercultural communication there needs to be a constant understanding and patient spirit between parties to get through any difficult bumps together, and that is especially important for cultures with different levels of context. As I said in my previous log, I'm not sure how difficult this will be for me personally, but I will try my best to remain cognizant, patient, and positive in the various interactions I share with others.

#journal #katesposts #studyabroad #japan #communication

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silvino32mills · 6 years

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8 Important Admin Tasks to Do When Launching a New Blog

The post 8 Important Admin Tasks to Do When Launching a New Blog appeared first on ProBlogger.

When you launch a new blog (especially if it’s your first), there’s so much to do it can feel overwhelming.

Having spent so much time and effort selecting your theme, pre-writing posts, and maybe even setting up your email list, you probably just want to make it live as soon as possible so you can tell everyone you know about it.

But hold up just a minute. You may have missed a few small but crucial administrative tasks that may seem nitpicky but can make a big difference to how your blog is perceived by first-time readers.

For instance, if you still have a default “About” page up there your blog won’t look completely finished. And a lot of established blogs still have the “meta” widget in the sidebar, despite it offering no value to readers whatsoever.

While there’s nothing wrong with being a new blogger (we all were at some point), you probably don’t want to look like a complete beginner. Readers who’ve experienced other newly launched blogs might be wary of investing time and energy in yours if it looks half complete. They might think you won’t stick with it for long.

So here are the eight steps you should take when launching a blog (or soon afterwards). And while these are focused on WordPress blogs, many will apply to other platforms too.

(Don’t worry if you launched a while ago and haven’t done some of these yet. It’s great that you got your blog out there and online. Just tackle them as soon as you can.)

#1: Remove the “Hello World” Post

You’ve probably already done this. But just in case you haven’t, make sure you remove the default “Hello World” post from your blog.

You can do this by either:

editing the existing post to give it a different title, permalink and text

deleting the entire post from your blog under Posts > All Posts in your dashboard.

If you decide to keep and edit the original post, make sure you delete the associated comment, which you can find under Comments in your dashboard.

Even if you’ve published several of your own posts and the “Hello World” post doesn’t appear on your front page any more, it’s still a good idea to completely delete it. Otherwise it’ll show up in archives and could be found when searching your blog.

#2: Delete the Default “Sample” Page

WordPress comes with a default “Sample Page” that looks something like this:

You don’t want to leave that sample page in place. Even if there’s no link to it in your navigation, it can still be found by searching your blog. And it doesn’t create a good impression.

You can either delete it or, if you prefer, edit it and create an “About” page or similar as WordPress recommends. (Just make sure you change the permalink to something other than sample-page.)

#3: Remove the “Meta” Widget from Your Sidebar

By default, WordPress places certain widgets in your sidebar. Don’t think you need to keep these. You can easily remove them under Appearance > Widgets (just drag and drop).

While you may want some of the default widgets, you can definitely dispense with the “Meta” widget, which looks like this:

Note: If you’re logged into your site, you’ll see the links “Site Admin” and “Log out” instead of “Log in”.

You don’t need the “Log in” link. You can access your WordPress dashboard by going to www.yourblogname.com/wp-admin and logging in (if necessary).

And chances are your readers won’t need the “Entries RSS” link. These days most readers t subscribe by email instead, and readers who do want to use RSS can just enter your blog’s name/URL in their feed reader. (I doubt they’ll want to subscribe to an RSS feed of all the comments, either.)

Leaving the meta widget in your sidebar adds unnecessary clutter, and marks you as a new blogger.

#4: Check (and Maybe Change) Your Permalinks

When you install WordPress, your permalinks will default to ‘Day and name’, which looks like this:

problogger.com/2018/09/12/sample-post

You might be perfectly happy with this. But it’s not the only option you have. For instance, you may want to have shorter permalinks that don’t include the date, like this:

problogger.com/sample-post

Ideally you should change your permalink structure early in the life of your blog so your post URLs are consistent. You’ll also avoid the risk of broken links on both own your blog and other blogs linking to yours. (Selecting a new structure updates the permalinks across your entire blog, not just on posts you publish in the future.)

You can change your permalinks under Settings > Permalinks.

#5: Fill Out Your Social Media Links

Many blog themes come with icons for your social media accounts, often in the footer or header.

A surprising number of blogs (even long-established ones)don’t have these set correctly, so the icon either isn’t clickable or leads to the homepage of Facebook, Twitter, etc. – not the blogger’s own profile or page.

Normally there’s a setting somewhere in your theme where you can include the actual URL of your Facebook page, Twitter profile, and so on. If you can’t find it, Google for the name of your theme plus “Facebook icon” or similar.

While it takes only a few minutes to set them up, they can make a huge difference to the number of followers you gain on social media. But if someone clicks a button that doesn’t work, you may miss out on a connection that becomes a long-term reader or even a paying customer.

#6: Make Sure Your Contact Form Works

One issue even well-established bloggers sometimes come across is contact forms that don’t always work correctly. While it may be frustrating for your readers (they’ll never hear back from you), it could also raise serious problems for you.

What if you miss a message from a customer asking for a refund on your ebook (as per your guarantee), and they end up raising a PayPal dispute? Or what if you never see the message from someone who wants to give you a free product or pay for advertising on your blog?

Even if your form appears to work and tells you a message was sent, it may not be reaching your inbox. It could be a delivery problem (they don’t reach you at all). They might reach you, but then end up in your spam folder. Or something may have gone awry with the plugin.

Before you launch, triple-check your contact form to make sure it actually works. Try it out yourself and, if possible, ask a couple of friends to test it as well. Make sure the emails all reach your inbox successfully.

(It’s also worth re-checking your contact form every so often. WordPress updates or plugin updates may mean it suddenly stops working, even if it’s been working fine for months.)

#7: Set Up Google Analytics and Google Search Console

I can understand why many bloggers launch without these in place. By the time you’ve set up a domain name and hosting, and installed a WordPress theme, the idea of doing anything else techy might seem just too much.

However, it really helps to have Google Analytics in place from the day you launch. That way, you can see exactly which posts and pages are popular, how people navigate through your site, whether they arrived through search, social media, or a backlink, and much more.

Google Search Console is slightly different. You can use it to set up your sitemap, find out what links Google had difficulty crawling, check whether your website has any security issues, see what search terms people are using to find your blog, and much more.

The good news is that both Google Analytics and Google Search Console are actually quite straightforward to set up. You’ll need to create a Google account (if you don’t already have one) and for both you’ll need to link them to your blog.

We cover how to do that with Google Analytics in the 31 Days to Build a Better Blog course. And here’s where you can find out more about Google Search Console.

#8: Install (or Activate) the Akismet Plugin

Akismet is a WordPress plugin that detects and removes spam comments before they ever appear on your blog. It will significantly reduce the amount of spam you have to deal with, which means you won’t have spam comments hanging around on your blog waiting to be deleted.

All blogs get hit with spam comments. But if a lot of them are getting through, it doesn’t give readers a great impression. A comments section riddled with spam makes your blog look unattended and uninviting. And it may well be promoting or linking to things you don’t want associated with you and your blog.

Depending on your host, your WordPress installation may come with the Akismet plugin already in place. If not, you can install it from your WordPress dashboard by going to Plugins > Add New and typing “Akismet” in the search box.

You’ll need to click the “Activate” button to get Akismet working, and you’ll then be taken to the Akismet site where you can sign up.

Akismet’s site implies that you need to pay, but you can use it for free. Just click the “Personal” plan and slide the payment slider all the way to the left.

Note: This license is only intended for non-commercial sites (i.e. sites without advertising, business information, products for sale, etc.)

I realise there’s quite a bit to take in here, especially if you’ve already spent a lot of time writing posts and choosing a theme for your blog. But if you tackle these one at a time, you’ll soon get them all done.

If you get stuck, take a look at our 31 Days to Build a Better Blog course (which covers a lot of these areas) or search Google for instructions.

Good luck with your blog launch.

Image credit: Jazmin Quaynor

The post 8 Important Admin Tasks to Do When Launching a New Blog appeared first on ProBlogger.

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