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euphoriaslux · 7 months ago

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we can’t be friends

summary: you hate vincent. vincent hates you. and yet somehow you end up in his bedroom.

word count: 4262( i… am so sorry.)

warnings: fem reader, smut(f oral receiving) vincent being a meanie, drinking and smoking, disrespect of the french justice system (désolé) me making head canons about vincent’s family life, some mischaracterization of sandra (ily sandra huller)

a/n: folks i was locked in when i was writing this, can you tell because it’s autocapitalized? i was Serious! this was supposed to be like a thousand words and ended up being 4k… i apologize i have to spread my illness (being my obsession with swann). i had SO much fun writing this i hope yall enjoy, all the reblogs on my first post make me all warm and fuzzy. drop some requests if you’d like, and im going to make a masterpost of all the fictional characters im obsessed with bc i’m chronically online. i’ve reread this like a million times so if there are any spelling errors i simply do not see. enjoy!!! <3

You cannot fucking believe you’re going to be late to trial.

Well, actually, you can believe it. Somehow, during the two hours of sleep you got last night, you managed to unplug both your alarm clock and your phone charger, leaving you to blissfully sleep through the multiple alarms you had set the night before. It was only when your cat sprawled across your face, her paws tickling your eyelashes as she eagerly awaited her breakfast, that your body decided to wake you up. An hour after you were supposed to.

Your methodically planned out morning routine for the indictment today was quickly replaced by you sprinting around your apartment muttering curse words under your breath and trying not to trip over the copious amounts of documents on your floor. You nearly cried when your tangled hair would not cooperate with you, but somehow managed to make yourself look halfway presentable. You didn’t have the time to be stressed today, especially because of the attention you know this case is going to get.

And because you knew you were going to see him.

After driving like a bat out of hell in the Parisian rain, violating multiple traffic laws, you somehow make it to the courthouse only one minute late. Jogging up the steps, you push the door open and yell out apologies to the bewildered lawyers and judges in the courthouse as you sprint against the browned hardwood floor, your briefcase thumping against your side in tandem with your heartbeat. Your eyes scan the chamber numbers and you breathe a sigh of relief once you find the one that matched the summons notice, pausing to smooth down your pantsuit set and pat the beads of sweat off of your forehead.

You push open the chamber doors as gently as you can, but you quickly realize there is no use as every head in the room turns towards you, gawking at you. Some have a slight frown on their face, looking at you with thinly veiled pity, but most have a clear show of annoyance. With your head down you speedwalk over to your team’s side of the chambers, pulling out a few labeled folders before you place your briefcase next to your seat. You take a deep breath and force yourself to look up, and right across from you is the defendant’s lawyer.

Vincent is wearing a black turtleneck and a matching black blazer, with effortlessly swooped gray hair and his arms crossed over his chest. He looks perfect, too perfect, in a way that pisses you off. He’s already staring at you when you glance at him, his mouth slightly turned upward as he leans over to talk to his client Sandra, maintining eye contact with you as his whispers in her ear.

“Glad you made time to join us Mademoiselle,” the judge says as she shuffles some papers around, using a few fingers to wave over a magistrate to her right, ostensibly for the indictment sheets.

“I am so, so sorry I-” you start before the judge moves her hand to wave you off, finally sparing you a sharp glance.

“Enough time has been wasted. Let us proceed, yes?” she asks, and you almost start to answer before you realize it was rhetorical. There are a few quiet laughs in the courtroom and you fix your eyes on your folder, feeling like a child who was just scolded in class for sneaking a cookie from the lunchroom. You feel Vincent’s eyes on you but you don’t dare to look up. You won’t give him the satisfaction.

Sandra was indicted, of course. This case was going to be a media circus because of her literary career, and you knew this was not going to be an open-and-shut case. Part of you hated trials like these - when the media would decide an angle that they found the most titillating and not leave a single person involved alone until they got a headline that matched their narrative. Another part of you, a massive part of you, hated working with Vincent. You could just constantly feel the smugness dripping off of him, and with every snarky comment and reply you could sense the anger just drilling deeper and deeper into you. Each interaction you had with him managed to make you even more and more mad. At least you’d hopefully only see him for another couple of months.

five months later

Like clockwork, you stepped out of your taxi to be bombarded by reporters with an endless sea of microphones and cameras, a cacophony of aggressive voices yelling your way. You keep your head down and try to push through the crowd, noticing Vincent talking to a reporter with Sandra to his side. You hear a few words, noticeably about Sandra’s innocence and the ignorance of the defense, and that word makes you stop in your tracks. Reporters are asking you questions but you look for the first microphone you can find and start to talk, making sure to project your voice.

“Judicial integrity is what’s most important to me. Not a narrative, not a story. I took an oath to protect this country. Some people don’t take that seriously, but I do, and that’s what I am focused on.”

There is a sea of follow-up questions but you weave through the hoard of people to the top steps of the courtroom, making your way inside. You arrived a bit early to trial today because you knew Daniel, Sandra’s son, was testifying today. You couldn’t shake the unease you’d had all week knowing you had to cross-examine him, seeing his grief-stricken face as he heard the prosecution and defense make a myriad of accusations about the one parent he had left.

“Were you talking about me?”

Vincent’s voice makes you jump, and you turn around to see him staring at you from behind the court pew. You must’ve had a look of confusion on your face because he then clarifies:

“Outside, when you were talking to the reporter from Euronews. Are you implying that I don’t have judicial integrity?” he cocks his head at you, his eyebrows slightly raised. You shrug, grabbing the manila folders with notes from your bag and putting them in front of your seat.

“If the shoe fits, I suppose,” you say with a tight smile as you sling your bag from your shoulder to under your chair. Vincent scoffs, lightly brushing his hair out of his face.

“Right, I should have looked to the attorney who walks in late smelling like cheap wine for… integrity,” he emphasizes that last word, each letter feeling incredibly loud in the silent courtroom. You feel the heat rise from the back of your neck, both in embarrassment and fury. You take a step towards him and he doesn’t move, your faces only a few inches apart.

“Do you think you’re any better? You took this case because you are plagued with this superiority complex that you have to subject everyone to.”

“Hm, so being a good lawyer makes you think I have a superiority complex, good to know,” Vincent says, touching his chin in mock curiosity. Jesus Christ, this guy irritates you.

“No actually, I think I figured it out,” you say with a laugh, poking your finger at his chest.

“Is it because you used to fuck Sandra, and this is some weird fucked up sort of foreplay that you’re forcing us to watch? I wonder if there’s a tape in evidence, of Sandra telling her now-dead husband how many times you two had shitty sex.”

Your sentence sits in the air as the smirk falls from Vincent’s face.

“Do not project whatever bullshit you’ve created in your mind onto me,” he says, staring at you with an intensity that makes you start to squirm.

“You don’t know me, Vincent,” you turn to end the conversation but Vincent grabs your arm, turning you back around to look at him.

“But I think I do,” he says, and you are so close that you can make out the pack of cigarettes in his jean pocket through his cloak is what’s pressing against your thigh.

“I think you put on this show, that you are meek and timid, but it is all an act. Every movement of yours is calculated. Nothing you do has any underpinning of integrity.”

You feel tears well in your eyes and you quickly wipe them away, opening your mouth to speak as the chamber doors open and members of the jury begin to walk in.

“Fuck you,” you tear your arm away from his grip and walk back to your seat.

four months later

It’s been two weeks since the trial ended. The chaotic hustle and attention has died and reporters are gone, with no more requests for comment or interviews on morning TV filling up your inbox. You were called to the courthouse to go over some documentation that the court needed to provide a final report on the case, arriving late on a Saturday night. You shudder as you get out of the taxi, the chill of Paris air sparing no part of your body. You wrap your jacket around yourself and sit on the sidewalk, taking a deep breath as you prepare to go into that same courtroom. You put your head in your hands and sit in silence for what feels like forever until a familiar voice breaks the stillness.

“Hey.”

You don’t move a muscle when you hear Vincent’s voice, hoping that somehow if you stayed completely still he’d believe you were a figment of his imagination and he’d leave you alone. Instead, he takes a seat next to you, the corduroy fabric of his trousers very gently grazing your skirt.

“If you’ve come to gloat, I’m truly not in the mood,” your say, your voice muffled by your hands over your mouth. Vincent says nothing but you hear him rustling through his pants and then the familiar click of a lighter, and you bring your face up to see Vincent taking a drag of a cigarette. He breathes out wafts of smoke, and after a beat, extends his hand towards you. You glance down at the cigarette and then back at him, and he is still looking forward at the architecture across from you. Plucking the cigarette from between his fingers you inhale deeply, tilting your head up to blow the smoke into the sky. You both sit in the quiet for a few moments as you smoke about half of the cigarette. He doesn’t seem to mind, or at least doesn’t say anything.

“How do you feel?” he finally asks, and you chuckle as you take another inhale.

“How do you think I feel?” you look to him and he nods, taking the cigarette from you. You try and ignore the tingly feeling in your stomach when his lips touch the same part of the cigarette that yours did, with no hesitation.

“Did you genuinely believe she was guilty?”

The question throws you off guard.

“I don’t know.” you answer honestly, bringing your knees up to rest your hands on top of them.

“I don’t often think anything is too personal in a court of law, but that phone call with Sandra and Samuel felt, invasive?”

“It didn’t seem like you had any qualms when you were questioning about it,” he questions.

“Well of course not. I wanted to win.”

Vincent laughs, a real deep laugh, and you can’t help but crack a small smile at the noise. You realize you hadn’t heard it before, at least not before it preceded an insult hurled your way.

“What do you mean, invasive?”

It’s hard to collect your thoughts on his question, and you are suddenly transported back into that courtroom, listening to that call.

“It was like I felt every molecule of anger, resentment, disappointment. I just felt like I was right there in the middle, taking both of their punches. Like,” you take a beat, trying to formulate your words.

“Like I was their son, with no vision of what was happening but so desperately aware of the anger in the air. And feeling guilty that I caused it, somehow.”

Vincent hums.

“I’m sorry with how often I pried, about you and Sandra,” your voice is quiet, and you pick at the straps of your heels.

“It’s okay. It was a long time ago. The feelings I have for her have changed.”

This time you hum, unsure of what to say. For the first time in your years of knowing him, you feel bad about possibly making Vincent uncomfortable. You’re not sure why. You sit in awkward silence for a couple of minutes before you stand up, brushing the stray tufts of cigarette ash that stuck to your skirt.

“Well, I won’t keep you, I have to go turn in evidence of my defeat” you gesture towards the papers in your hands. “And you have to go celebrate, I presume.”

Vincent stands up as well, flicking the cigarette onto the floor and stomping it out with his boot.

“No celebrating for me,” he says with his hands raised. You smile, and he does the same.

“How will you be … coping?” he asks and you roll your eyes.

“Not sure, probably at home with a really cheap bottle of wine.”

His lips purse as he puts his hands into his pockets. “I guess I deserve that.”

You rock slightly on your balls and feet, not sure if you should walk away from him or not. You’re just about to step out of his way when he starts talking.

“I have a nice Pinot Grigio I’ve been waiting to open, if you’d, you know, like to … join,” Vincent’s voice gets quieter as he keeps talking, and you swear you can see a soft pink hue on his cheeks, but perhaps that was the night playing tricks on you.

“I don’t want to impose-”

“You wouldn’t be,” he cuts you off. “I’ll wait for you out here?”

Vincent’s house - not apartment - was somehow exactly and nothing like what you would have imagined. It’s a one-story Victorian-style home with a dark exterior, but the inside is painted a warm yellow with tons of books littering the floors and walls and miscellanous trinkets and birthday cards tucked in between. There’s empty pizza boxes and wine bottles on the kitchen floor, and through his tall back window you can see a mini garden in his backyard, with vines of tomatoes and bushels of leafy greens sprawled amongst the grass. It looks very lived in - you can imagine Vincent waltzing around in the morning, reading his big law books with big glasses of wine, like the one you have in your hand right now.

The two of you are currently halfway deep into a bottle, talking about nothing and everything. The case, bad clients you’ve had before, your favorite pastry shops in Paris, the funny face that one of the Magistrates makes every time the Judge looked at him.

“Thank you for the wine monsieur,” you say with a dip of your head and an exaggerated bow.

Vincent shakes his head before taking a sip of wine, and you notice how the soft pink you thought you had noticed before has turned into a deep red from his forehead to his chest. Vincent being tipsy was such an odd thought to you that you couldn’t control your laughter, your hand flying up to cover your mouth as you started to giggle incessantly.

“What? Is there something on my face?” Vincent giggles alongside you, and you shake your head no.

“The serious, smart lawyer is wine-drunk with the person he probably hates the most. I could not have imagined ever being in this situation,” you manage to collect yourself, putting your hand over your chest as you take the final sip in your glass and wave off Vincent as he motions to pour you another one.

“I don’t hate you,” Vincent mutters as he pours himself another glass of wine.

“You’re pretty good at acting like you do.”

He just nods. Suddenly the air in the room has changed, and it feels constricting. Like all of the arguments and venomous insults you’ve thrown at each other has coagulated in this massive living room

“I actually, um, envy you a lot of the time.”

“Envy me?” you can’t help your incredulous tone after his sentence. “You don’t have to say things to pity me, you know,” you laugh, but Vincent’s face is still serious.

“You are just naturally someone people want to spend time with. Even when you annoy me beyond belief, some part of me is always, drawn to you, I suppose. And I envy that. I don’t really know who I am without doing things for others.

You furrow your brows at his sentence. “What do you mean?” you lean over your chair to be a bit closer to him. He plays with the silver ring on his index finger.

“Sometimes I feel like the people I’ve loved, only want me when I can do something for them, you know? I mean, even my own mother, I remember- ” he stops to take a large sip of wine.

“I was almost done with primary school, and my Dad was gone on some inane business trip. I told her I wanted to go to a birthday party downtown, and that I wouldn’t be able to make dinner that night. She got so mad at me that she threw the bottle of wine she’d nearly finished at my head.” He swirls his wine glass around staring into it.

You put your hand on top of his, and he looks up at you, staring into your eyes before clasping his hand arond yours.

“I’m really sorry,” you whisper. He shrugs, and before you can stop yourself, you bring his hand up to your mouth and press a featherlike kiss against his skin. Vincent’s eyes are glassy, and he separates his fingers from yours to place his hand against your face, his thumb gently caressing your jaw.

“Do you have more cigarettes?” you ask, softening into his touch.

“In my bedroom.”

His statement - his ask - reverberates through your head as you both stare at each other, trying to discern what will happen next. Your thoughts are so loud that you’ve afraid that somehow they’ll extend out into the room.

is he saying what i think he is?

And normally, you would say a snarky remark about how he wishes he could get you in his bedroom, and how you’d rather die than see where he sleeps, but the wine has made you slightly woozy and all you can think about is how good he looks with his hair gently sticking to his face and his t-shirt tight around his arms, and what it would feel like to fuck him.

So you say “okay”, and leave your phone on the dining room table.

Vincent opens his bedroom door, moving to let you walk in first before closing the door behind him. He opens his mouth to speak and before you can think your mouth is on his, and he’s shocked for a moment before he kisses you back, your lips melding together. You push your body into his as Vincent wraps his arms around your waist, his hands digging into your skin as he quietly moans into your mouth. Your intertwined bodies make it to the bed and he hovers on top of you, his hard cock pressing against your thigh and you reach down to touch him over his jeans, feeling him shudder against you. You pull away from him.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” his voice is a little hoarser than it was before. “I’m okay.”

“Good,” you pull your shirt over your head and tug at the bottom of his and he laughs he does the same, and you admire his shirtless body as he reaches back down to kiss you again, but he’s not as gentle this time. He’s aggressive, dipping his tongue into your mouth and holding your face in his hands.

“So beautiful”, he murmurs, tilting your head so he can suck on your neck and graze his teeth against the bruises spot he left. “So much more beautiful than I imagined”.

Your head falls back on the pillow as you feel his hands reach behind your back and unclip the hooks on your bra, his mouth moving to your breasts and licking your nipples.

“You’ve imagined me?” you pretend to be bashful as your mouth falls into an o-shape, feeling Vincent’s mouth on your chest and his hands on . He moans and you can feel it throughout your whole body as you lean down to shimmy out of your skirt and underwear in one move.

“In every way possible,” he says as he dips a finger down, past your belly button and into your cunt. You’d feel embarrassed at how wet you are already if his hand didn’t feel so good inside of you.

“I’ve thought about what you would taste like, how you would sound when I first fuck you for the first time,” his mouth moves down from your chest, leaving a trail of wet kisses down your abdomen before he’s just above your heat and you sigh, involuntarily jerking your hips up. He puts his free hand around your lower stomach to hold you in place.

“But nothing,” he nips at the spot right in the crease of your hip, licking a long stripe just next to your heat.

“Could’ve come close to how pretty you really are.”

“Christ,” your hands grab fistfuls of Vincent’s sheets as his tongue finally swirls around your clit, pressing just a bit harder as he puts another finger inside of you. You can feel the pressure building in your lower stomach as you and Vincent’s grip on your stomach get firmer as you wriggle under his touch. He groans into your mouth as you start to grind your hips into him, fucking you faster with his fingers as he rolls his hips into the bed.

“Vincent,” you say with a gasp and grip his hair, pulling as you come around his mouth, your head dizzy with the feeling of Vincent’s tongue on you as he stares up at you from between your legs. He pulls his hand out of your cunt and licks his fingers before putting his mouth back on your clit, making you jump at the contact. You hiss as he licks the sensitive area, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as you tug so hard on Vincent’s hair that you’re afraid you’re hurting him, but if you are, he doesn’t stop you. He interlocks his fingers across your stomach and holds you into place, groaning into your clit.

“Okayokayokay,” you move your hands from his hair to head to pull him up, your breathing labored as you try to get yourself together. He leans over to kiss you, his lips softly molding against yours as you wrap your arms around his back.

Breathless, you move your hand down to touch Vincent but he quickly stops you.

“It’s- um-”

You look down and notice the wet spot on Vincent’s boxers, and your eyebrows raise to the top of your forehead as you come to the realization that he came while he was eating you out.

“Did you-”

Vincent groans, hiding his face in your neck as you giggle, coming down from your high.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” you thread your fingers through his now disheveled hair. “It’s kind of hot if I’m being honest.” Vincent looks at you with a questioning look but you just smile.

“Plus, we have all night to try again.”

You wake up in Vincent’s bedroom, with a few strips of sunlight peeking through Vincent’s closed blinds. You haphazardly reach over to his side of the bed to grab his arm, but find it empty, raising your head from the pillow to see that you’re completely alone. Vincent’s clothes that he had taken off during the night and tossed onto the floor were gone. You waited to see if you could hear Vincent in his kitchen, or in the garden, but you were in complete silence.

To be fair, he didn’t say anything last night to insinuate that he wanted a relationship with you, or even liked you. Maybe this was secretly a win for him - he could beat you in a courtroom, and now he got you in your most vulnerable state to declare that you actually felt something other than hatred for him. And maybe that’s all he wanted. You’re not sure why you expected anything differently.

You throw the blankets off of you and find your clothes neatly folded on his desk, and his courteousness manages to upset you even more. You put your clothes on and try to collect yourself, taking a few deep breaths as you walk out of his bedroom and out towards his kitchen. You scan the room for your phone, which you swear you left on the dining room table, only to finally see it on top of a note on the kitchen counter written in messy cursive.

“Went out for cigarettes and coffee.

Bringing back croissants and a capuc- cappuccino.

Will be back in ten.

Go back to bed.

V”

taglist: @ghostlytide

graphic credits: @glasvera

#vincent renzi #vincent renzi fanfiction #swann arlaud fanfiction #swann arlaud #vincent renzi x reader #swann arlaud x reader #anatomy of a fall fanfiction #anatomy of a fall #anatomie d'une chute #vincent renzi smut #swann arlaud smut #smut #fanfic

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2soulscollide · 2 years ago

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my favorite free tools for writers

hello, hello! hope you're doing well.

today i am bringing you another list with my top 3 favorite (free!) tools that I find helpful for each phase of writing a novel.

brainstorming phase

Fantasy Names Generator - not only for fantasy (you can also generate real names). this website is just... amazing! it helps you come up with names for characters, places and locations, descriptions, generate traits, outfits (yes, outfits!!), and probably something else you could ever think of.

The Story's Hack - this one is so cool! you can generate names for everything, create your own generator, and practice writing through writing exercises! plus, you can save your generated names to see later, and you earn coins for each idea generated (you can later buy themes - dark, snow, forest, etc)

RanGen - my last favorite generator on this list is RanGen! you can generate plots, appearances, archetypes, love interests, cities, worlds, items, and more.

developing the idea phase

Bryn Donovan - in this blog you can find master lists under the tag "master lists for writers". it is so helpful when you first start developing the characters and need to find the right words to describe them and to find some quirks and flaws!

Writers Write (350 character traits) - again, this is so helpful!

Story Planner - ah, the number of times I've talked about this website... please, PLEASE take a look at it, you won't regret it. this website has literally everything you need to fully develop your idea with outlines for you to fill in step by step.

writing phase

Colleen Houck (80+ barriers to love) - need more romace conflict? there you go!

Cheat Sheets for Writing Body Language - so, you know how your character's feeling, but don't know how he'd physically act? check out this list!

Describing Words - honestly, this is a lifesaver. don't you struggle to find the right word to describe something? well, with this website all you have to do is to type the object you're trying to describe and see which description fits better to you!

revising phase

Language Tool for Google Docs - i know we all have heard about google docs before, but the truth is, it's almost impossible to find free softwares to check grammar and spelling. so, google docs is useful, because it automatically revises it for us, and it's completely free. plus, you can add adds-on, such as "language tool".

Unfortunately, there's only one (free) tool that I actually enjoy for the revising phase. if you know some others, please let me know so that I can try them out and feature in this list.

exporting phase

Google Docs - i find google docs very easy to format and export to .epub, so i'd recommend using it as a free tool.

Reedsy - this is also a free tool available online. all you have to do is to write down each chapter (copy and paste) or import your word document. it will format the document to your liking and export it to pdf, epub and mobi.

that's everything for now! i hope this post was somehow helpful or inspiring!

if you want to see more master lists full of resources, check these:

WEBSITES FOR WRITERS {masterpost}

BEST accounts to follow as a writer

BEST SITES & SOFTWARES TO WRITE FICTION

DIALOGUE IDEAS TO GET RID OF THAT WRITING BLOCK (masterpost)

Useful Resources & Tips for Writers

also, if you are a notion lover just like me, check the free template I just released with everything you need to develop and write your novel!

thank you so much for reading! hope to see you around, and have a nice day <3

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drdemonprince · 4 months ago

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I know so many people who are certain the world is about to end. They’ve felt this way since about 2016 or so. They are neurotic and unempowered, refreshing their Twitter feeds and making posts begging others to stay worried and go vote.

Some of them are leftists, and say they wish to see an end to capitalism, perhaps even to America — but when the possibility starts actually feeling real to them, they fear crime, and chaos, and their own helplessness. They joke uneasily that we live in “The Bad Place” but they are too afraid to get to the good one. They don’t want to see an end to their quiet street corner, their cozy condominium, their favorite television shows on streaming, their door with a lock. They admit this world is hell but they try to claim their own corner of it and keep it comfortable.

I’ve been in the exact mental spot as these people, so I don’t mean to make myself sound superior. For the longest time, all I wanted to do was find a few comforting distractions to get me through the years before my death. I went to bed with my stomach in knots, certain that one day the power grid would go dark, the water would stop flowing, and the fascists would march in the streets and no one would stop them.

Back then I didn’t fantasize that I would do anything to stop them. I picture things differently now.

I used to think that voting and calling representatives were my only avenues for political participation, but now I see that with every choice I am not merely voting for a better world, I am creating it. When I fund a friend’s jaw surgery, when I look an unhoused person in the eyes and ask them how they are doing, when I slow my walking speed, when I share my knowledge, I am making decisions about how the future will be. I am not powerless. I am small, and vulnerable, but I always have something to give.

I think that when we are feeling powerless and afraid of the collapse, it’s helpful to shift our attention toward practical, empowering questions like these:

If the government collapsed today, what would I do tomorrow?

The End of the World is a big, frightening abstraction. But if some terrible disaster (or glorious revolution) were to happen today, all I’d have to do tomorrow is make a few basic decisions. What would I eat? Where would I sleep? Who would I contact first?

At the end of the world there are still dirty clothes and rumbling bellies. Those pressing physical needs are the most immediate questions we will need to answer, not larger philosophical quandaries about what life is “for,” or what the ideal new political system should be. For those more essential questions, there will always be answers: canned food to gather, lakes to wash off in, stories to be traded across candlelight.

The future that we expect is just a fiction we tell ourselves, and it has never been guaranteed. And so, when some dramatic change comes, we can focus not on the loss of certainty, but on the practicalities: finding shelter, getting fed, and keeping the people around us as safe as we can. This is already what life is about — and we’re all more practiced in survival than we might think.

If the world as I know it ended, what would still be important to me?

Hitting my weekly wordcount goals wouldn’t matter at all anymore, I know that much. But in the wake of a terrible collapse I would still value my friends, my immediate family, my chinchilla, and the people I see every day. I wouldn’t be so fixated on never seeming ‘awkward’ or ‘creepy’; the moment disaster happened, I would just get over myself and knock on my neighbors’ doors.

If the world ended, I’d stop caring about my appearance, but I’d still long for a mode of self-expression like fashion currently provides. I wouldn’t think of my writing “career,” but I’d still want to be heard. I can imagine myself giving a small speech to my neighbors, trying to persuade them to take whatever course of action I thought best. I would be wrong often and not always persuasive, but I would still get to express myself and witness how that expression influences the world. I’d take care of more animals. I’d worry less about my apartment getting banged up and wrecked.

It’s worthwhile to contemplate the people we will become after capitalism. The rhythms of our lives will change, as will our priorities. We may harbor fears about all that may be lost, but it’s worth asking whether our possessions and favorite TV shows and Twitch streamers are really all that important. I often find myself looking forward to the person I could become in this new reality. And those thoughts often motivate me to make small changes in who I am and what I prioritize right now.

The full essay also contemplates these questions about the apocalypse:

What would I feel unburdened from?

What important work would I keep doing?

What skills do I have that people will always need?

What help would I ask for?

You can read the full piece for free, or have it narrated to you in the Substack app, right here.

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neil-gaiman · 1 year ago

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Hi Mr. Gaiman,

As an accomplished author with several books under his belt, how do you know that a story is a dud for lack of a better word? I have a million ideas bouncing around inside my head at all times, and while I consider them good ideas worth pursuing, how am I sure they will make a good story?

I ask this because I have been dwelling on something one of my professors said last semester. He held a seminar on poetry and got to the topic of fiction writing, where he stated that he had just recently finished a story he had rewritten several times over the course of multiple years. Now I myself write as a hobby with a faint imagining that someone might see it in the future, and I have written a dud or two, where the plot was poorly formed and the ideas behind it just had a flaw somewhere in the base concept. Perhaps this is my youth and amateurity speaking, but I was under the impression that given enough time and care, any story could recover from that stage so long as it had not been completed yet. Ideas would need to be reworked, concepts retooled, characters redrawn, but the very basic idea could still survive in a different format.

My professor disagreed, stating that he has destroyed 400-500 page novels that he has written before upon realizing said fatal flaw. He stated that the story was in a state that it could not recover from, and that many authors encounter ideas that seem good at the time, but stink later on to such a degree that the basic premise must be thrown out. This seems like a tremendous loss of work to me. As writing is an art form, it feels somewhat similar to destroying practice sketches and 'meh' oil paintings that showcase the artist's progress. An idea that stinks today might be able to work from a different angle later on in my opinion.

I suppose after rambling my question is now this: are some ideas and concepts just not worth pursuing? Are some story concepts flawed from the get-go and impossible to save, and is there a way to tell that before writing the whole thing? Is it even possible to waste that time as you're getting in practice for the next tale?This isn't something I ever really thought about before being told in sure tones that this is how things work by someone with a degree is this, so I figured I'd ask the professional author for a second opinion. Apologies for the length of the message, especially if this is one you've received before.

I have things that have stalled and a few stories that, when they were done, went to the box in the attic rather than to anyone who could publish them (there's a whole novel there I wrote when I was 21). But mostly because I was writing serial comics, failure was not an option, and if something did fail it had done it in public for everyone to see. And I learned that some things I thought were failures had actually worked really well.

Some people are afraid of failure. Some people are afraid of success, which can also be a good reason for junking books and never showing them to anyone. As long as you pronounce them irretrievably flawed and show them to nobody, you will never be judged for them or have to deal with either success or failure.

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yes-i-write-fanfiction · 5 months ago

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Below is why I think these bots would be fun to see;

-Knockout would become a famous model and Breakdown would be his bodyguard. I just think it would be funny to see Knockout caught up in a rogue attack and go absolutely apeshit on some poor goon that accidentally stained his 5 000 dollar designer jacket. Breakdown has to pull him of the poor man like "Babe, babe, it's ok, we'll get you a new jacket. How about a nice new suit too? That sound good?" Meanwhile the goon is fucking traumatized.

-Wreck Gar sees that Gotham is covered in trash and makes it his own personal mission to collect all of it and create his own trash kingdom. Gotham's streets have never been cleaner.

-I just want to see Kup train the batfam. And act old with Alfred. Perhaps save one of the vigilantes after they get captured, using nothing but his holoform, a bottle of liquor, a stun gun and guerilla tactics.

-You look me in the eyes and tell me Tarantulas wouldn't fit right in in Gotham. His freaky ass belongs there. He would sneak into Arkham to observe the patients, just for fun. Maybe terrorize them a little. "Doctor, the spider talks to me!" "Sure pal, of course it does. Did you take your medicine today?"

-Thundercracker becomes a best selling author in Gotham by writing about his experiences in the war (everyone thinks its just a very detailed fictional world). Jason gets absolutely hooked on the series and meets him one day while Thundercracker is out walking Buster. Jason promptly nerds out.

-Just full on pandemonium with the Scavengers. Krok tries to organize them so they can find a way back home but these idiots keep going on side quests. They were supposed to steal some Wayne tech? Sorry, Misfire got caught up in a riddle contest with the Riddler and Spinister is having a BBQ with Solomon Grundy.

-Airachnid becomes a serial killer/hitman in Gotham and quickly earns a reputation as a brutal and efficient killer. Not really that funny but a lot of potential for drama. She sets her eyes on her newest hit; Bruce Wayne.

-Swindle is fucking living life in Gotham, selling repurposed cybertronian tech to rogues. Not even necessarily weapons, just random pieces of regular cybertronian tools, like bottle cap openers that get repurposed into actual weapons by the criminals. Well, now he's on the batfam's watch list and has go into hiding.

-Ok, listen, First Aid is a freak. A well meaning freak but a freak nonetheless. So when he finds a vigilante bleeding out in an alleyway, of course he's gonna help them! But not before taking a picture of their wound and sampling their blood. Not for nefarious purposes! He just thinks it's interesting. But now the batfam tries he's going to try and clone them.

-All the rogues and vigilantes of Gotham band together to stop Shockwave. He's just trying to make his way home but his experiments and casual disregard for human life makes him such a threat that even sworn enemies have to put their differences aside if they want to survive.

-Predaking befriends Cass and she doesn't tell the batfam cause this is her alien friend and they've already got their own (Batman&Superman, Nightwing&Starfire, Red Hood&Bizarro, Red Robin&Super Boy, Robin&the other Super Boy etc.). Of course Robin eventually finds out and he's so mad cause that's a robot/alien/dragon! She can't just keep him to herself! That's so selfish of her! Meanwhile, Predaking is like "Where the fuck am I?"

#poll #transformers imagine #crossover #DC #knockout #breakdown #wreck gar #kup #tarantulas #thundercracker #the scavengers #airachnid #swindle #first aid #shockwave #predaking

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yvesdot · 1 month ago

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How To Get Roughly 50 Notes On An Original Writing Post And Possibly Net A Single Reader

I had someone ask today how I get people to click through and read my writing, and I'm realizing that I've never actually made a post all in one place of everything I do to get a new piece of short fiction off the ground... so here you go! How to get (some) eyes on your work, even if it is not published anywhere of interest and you don't have a marketing team behind you.

The #1 thing is presentation. You want to get people's attention, and once you have it, convince them to keep paying attention. Fortunately, people tend to be both reasonable and predictable, which means all you have to do is follow The Formula.

(original post link)

Here's the formula from the above post broken down:

[giant horizontal title card, preferably animated to catch the eye] OR [a few tasteful parallels, if you're good at parallel posts]

TITLE (linked to where you can read the piece) / wordcount

a quote that is representative of the tone, themes, prose style, and/or the "promise of the premise"

A longer pitch, featuring the overall subject of the piece (transsexual reality TV drama), any comp titles (Detransition, Baby), the main draw (in this case, watching trans people be awful to clueless cis people), major themes (performance), and any other promises you'd like to make (food romance and tigers). You can see that the quote I chose delivers on the promise of trans people intellectually outperforming cis people-- if I were a reader, I would be more likely to trust that the rest of the pitch was accurate based on that assurance.

If you have any positive reviews on your piece, say so. If it has won any awards or contests, say so. If your work has made people cry, Doja Cat - Say So. Always. Generally speaking, more personal and more detailed is better, but keep it to one or two people-- e.g. "when I gave this to my S/O to read he shot milk out of his nose so far I had to go clean under the couch" or "my favorite review of this piece is the reader who said they read it chapter-by-chapter under their covers because they wanted it all to themself." This should be one sentence.

Depending on where the story is published, what you usually promote, etc., it may be worthwhile saying the story is free. Use your judgment on whether the reader can tell.

I also like putting my links at the bottom so someone seeing this on a friend's dash can easily track me around the 'Net. They make me look more professional (I now include a link to my website) and they visually balance the post, in my opinion. This post also happened to have some additional links for bonus content.

This is not as high stakes as it seems. I'm not 100% happy with the pitch here, and I'm not 100% happy with the graphics I've used in other cases. These are some bones that help to sell the piece even when the details aren't as sharp.

REBLOGGING

When is the last time you read something the first time you saw it on your dash? I schedule reblogs of all important posts at least twice over the next 2-3 days, often three times so I can get the morning/afternoon/evening reblog. If your followers tend to be more active at certain times, go ahead and use those. In the past I've intentionally scheduled posts for times I knew more popular mutuals were active, and it has paid off!

I also schedule a reblog for a week and a month and sometimes even a full calendar year out, because I know there is going to be that person who tags the piece '#to read' and instantly forgets about it, only to get excited when they see it weeks later. I am very often that reader. The goal is to catch people when they're ready to read immediately, and this is a game of chance.

Every so often, I go through my entire #writing or #important writing updates or even just #popular tag(s) and queue two dozen posts before shuffling my queue to redistribute matters. This keeps my older work circulating, ensuring new readers get a chance to see older pieces and giving those older pieces another shot at dashboard space. (More on #popular later.) This sounds like a lot, which is why you have to space everything pretty far apart. Fortunately, this is the world's best site for cool things to reblog. I guarantee you that you can find something new you love to post in the meanwhile.

COPING WITH FAME

The post above is what I, a published author, consider "doing well" for a post about my writing on Tumblr. As of October 10th, 2024, over two years after its initial posting and over five years into my posting doggedly about my original fiction, it has 77 notes. More than half (43) are likes. Around half of the reblogs are me promoting my own work or the same very sweet person dutifully reblogging me every time I do so. Glancing through the reblogs now, I know of four people whom I can confirm have read it. Presumably, there are more who are completely silent and have never interacted with the post whatsoever. Genuinely: wahoo!! I am so grateful and happy for the attention and reception of my work.

This is the number one thing I suggest: focus on what you have, and not what you lack. Imagine your post from the perspective of an outsider: even one reblog means you convinced that one person to spread your art! How cool is that! This is also good advice because moping is simply not helpful; it will not get you more reads. (And no, neither will guilting others. Kill that vent post in your head!)

GETTING FOLLOWERS

I don't have that many followers. Of the followers I do have, people are very unpredictably active. When I hear about other people's follower counts I am consistently surprised, because people with half of mine will have fans and haters the likes of which I could not possibly dream of. I follow 500-follower folk who post "I ate a strawberry today" and get 6 asks ranging from "Wow I respect you so much for eating that strawberry" to "I'm going to come to your address at [REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED] and shove bananas down your throat for hating on my favorite fruit."

I point this out to establish three important things. 1) Be grateful for what you have (in my case, 0 anonymous hate asks about fruitpinions), 2) followers have far less impact on interaction than one might think, and 3) followers don't engage with the things you might like them to.

Think about yourself. Are you more likely to reblog a photo of a cat in a pumpkin (alright, here) or something advertising fifteen minutes' worth of writing, which could be, for all you know, bad? Or, for that matter, by a person you should not like to support? Reblogs on generically interesting things are 'safer' (unfortunately) than reblogs on art, and it makes perfect sense that people are skittish around the latter. People don't often reblog things they haven't read, and nobody can reblog every artpost on their dash. Having someone else put it there, however, is incredibly powerful—someone's vetted this post as Worth a Reblog, after all. Having more followers allows for much more of this.

(Followers don't guarantee any one sort of interaction, but having more of them is rarely bad. Rarely.)

Across my most popular posts, one theme becomes very obvious: people like things that apply to them or their blog. I try to post writing advice/opinions/memes every so often, because I know I have a loyal base of writerfolk who like to see that from me, and it's "easier" to reblog than my writing. This is simply the nature of the universe. I used to pretty frequently go into the #writeblr tag and check out what was recently popular so I could figure out how to serve the same base, and from time to time it worked.

You're welcome to examine the list of #writing posts that made it to 100 notes, because each tends to have a notable reason behind its success: a reblog with an exceptionally good review, a contest win, a wordcount that lends itself to pasting the whole thing in one go.

(Posts about my book's release are a notable exception, in part due to Blaze and in part due to my absolutely relentless flogging of their reblog buttons during the ~year of promotion. Also in large part to a dedicated circle of friends who passed the post around nonstop! Thank you so much!!)

A lot of people will tell you to attempt covert reciprocal promotion. You know—reblog a lot of stuff, in the hopes that people will reblog yours. If I could change one thing on Tumblr, it would be this: the culture that quietly encourages disingenously interacting with other people with a secret True Goal in mind. (On the autism website.)

Please, for the love of all that is good and holy, do not do this. If you comment on other people's work, do it because you're happy to do so. When I released Paper Tigress, I went through everybody else who responded to the same prompt and read their work, because I had the day off and I was curious. This has led to Paper Tigress having more comments on Reedsy than one of my contest winners, and even outranking the shortlisted story in the same prompt category. However, this would have been a waste of my time if I did not genuinely enjoy reading the other stories. I read 80+ stories, taking several hours, and gained 30 comments from the venture (half my comments are my responses).

Crucially, I do not promote other writers' work on Tumblr in the hopes of them reading or boosting mine. This is the #1 tip I see thrown around that I viscerally disagree with. While, again, I am grateful for engagement with my work regardless of the context, I do not want people suffering through my work in the hopes that I will promote them. I work a full-time job, and my reading calendar is perpetually overbooked, including with work by my absolute best of friends. Even if it wasn't, I think it would be quite insulting if I were posting works in the hopes that someone would choke it down like medicine. I post what I think is good so that people can read and enjoy it. If you are not enjoying it, I do not want you to feel as though you have to read it. My aim is to give to others what my favorite authors have given me, which is most certainly not A Bad Time Spent Being Dishonest In The Hopes Of Getting Something Back. You have better things to do with your time. Please be honest.

CONCLUSION

Realistically, the readers I have, I gained through being a published author for five years promoting my behind off on Tumblr, the least forgiving social media for promotion. People like it when you have a book they can buy, especially if it has Goodreads reviews that make it look like you have been vetted for them. Many people who follow me have read only Something's Not Right and nothing else. (Many people who follow me have read everything but Something's Not Right.) I have posted dozens of pieces on Tumblr and Wattpad (and AO3). I gained a small number of readers writing and posting fanfiction for the Locked Tomb Tri(?)logy, even though I marketed it absolutely terribly.

Just keep writing. Keep writing, keep posting, and keep making sure everyone who follows you knows you write. And keep writing because you want to. There's no better advice than that.

#writeblr #writeblr advice #writeblr tutorial #writeblr tips #writeblr community #writing advice #writers on tumblr #important writing updates #txt

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yourlocalstranger123 · 1 year ago

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Hello may I request a yandere Imbibitor Lunae (From HSR) with a reader who is a writer and very lazy doesn't mind getting kidnapped as long as the reader (You could pick the gender if u could a male) can write and very flirty and openly affectionate

Take care ❤

I'm not actually sure what you meant, but I'm just guessing that you'd prefer me doing a male so ima do it <3 of course, there isn't much details/words saying out-loud the reader is male so it can still be seen as any gender!

《 I am so sorry if you just wanted full fluff and ur a minor. If you do not feel comfortable with the pictures at the end, I don't mind taking it down!! Again, IM SO SORRY IF U DO FEEL UNCOMFORTABLE (つд；*) 》

Warning!: Kidnapping?, ofc yandere theme, broken stuff, stalking, containment, blood, murder, also slight sexual themes under the 2nd set of pictures(aka the mostly sussy one)

MINORS DNI Unless you are okay seeing some slight sexual themes. It's not fully smut, so it's okay rn.

A/N: I will still put gn, female, male reader tags but if you think that the reader is too manly or smt, I'll change it. And sorry if I used wrong tags ALSO ARTIST CREDIT IS AT THE END (except for the official art bc it's og from hsr so)

Info for reader's figure: SORRY IF U DIDN'T WANT THE MALE(or any gender since it doesn't clarify that the reader is a male) READER TO BE TALLER AND IG SLIGHTLY LARGER? IM SORRY. (´д｀|||)

–◇{Imbibitor Lunae}◇–

You simply went out for groceries. Buying some decent ingredients to make food. As you were walking back to your house, you felt someone was watching you. Looking around to see no one's eyes looked at you, you simply shrugged off the feeling and walked home tiredly. (If you had a sharp eye, you would've seen horns and a tail sticking out behind a tree....suprised that no one saw him)

You put the ingredients in the fridge, not feeling like eating dinner today. Yawning as you simply flopped down onto the bed, not even bothering to change clothes. As your eyes finally close as you drift off to sleep, you feel a figure hovering over you. But of course, you didn't get up since it was soooo comfy. Who wants to get off of bed when they FINALLY get a comfortable position to sleep.

So the figure took its advantage and....held your hand-? You feel the figure holding both of their hands to hold yours. You started to feel a bit uneasy. Maybe this is just a dream! Surely it is... you felt the other side of the bed droop as the weight of the person was on it. You can feel them trying to snuggle into your embrace, hearing them hesitantly sigh in delight as they get closer in contact.

This must be a very strange but nice dream..... The next morning, you sat up and stretched out your arms, then remembering that strange "dream" you experienced. Quickly turned your head to the other side of the bed, and you found nothing. Perhaps it was just a realistic dream! Surely no one broke into your house without any traces or not even do anything bad!(yet)

You heard something crashing, quickly running out of your room. You see a bunch of shattered plates, glasses, a broken chair, and....He even dropped the books you hard-workingly wrote on! Is he serious?! You went up to the figure, seeing his eyes widen, but you didn't care. You started lightly scolding him for breaking your books! Now you have to write the whole thing again!(the book wasn't totally a fan fiction, lmao)

His face clearly showed confusion as you continued lightly scolding him. Seeing his tail slightly droop, you stopped and sighed. Forgiving him, you were about to wave him off until you felt his tail wrapping around your leg before he crossed his arms. Frowning(pouting) at you and refused to let you go. You were about to try to get out of his grasp to re-organize the books that fell, but you soon felt dizzy, passing out before you felt him hugging you.

You found yourself in a locked room(his room?) with chains that were tied onto the bed to restrict you going too far. You heard footsteps as you saw a head with horns peeking out of the doorway, then the figure finally showed himself. (why dies he have blood on him?)

You could see him hesitating but soon let himself lay his head on your lap. Tilting his head up to look at you, quietly asking what you want for breakfast. (he's quite cute even though he had blood on him, and the blood is slightly smearing on your shirt and pants) You simply ask for an apple.

He tilted his head in confusion, asking you again, what PROPER breakfast meal do you want. (Yeah, you should get a proper meal. You know who you are) You said again, an apple. He sighed and regrettably had to leave your warmth to give you an apple. (Why weren't you mad at him? Aren't you scared that he kidnapped you?)

Before he left the door, you asked him to give you a pen or pencil and a paper if he could. Which he complied and did, only sitting beside you and watching you write a story down. But as he tried to read it, you covered his face and put away the paper. He tried to move your hands, but when he did, he felt you kiss his forehead. He quickly scooted away, trying to process what had just happened. You kissed him???.....That means you love him, right? It has to be!

You could see the blush forming around his face and neck. Hearing you chuckle made him even blush more. "Oh my, you're red as a tomato!!" You said, slightly laughing. He becomes more embarrassed but so delighted because you love him! Surely, you even kissed him on his forehead! You won't go, you won't leave him or hate him.....right..? He held your hand, hoping for more affection from you. Seeking it, desiring it, needing it

Timeskip:

"Mine..." he mumbles as he snuggles against your palm. He shudders and lets out a soft sigh when you touch his horns. Rubbing the base of his horns, he watches you enjoy touching his horns as you smile. You were about to retract your hand, but he grabbed your wrist and begged for more of your affection and warmth.

Not wanting to let go of you, he wrapped his tail around your body and tightly hugged you in place. He looked so adorable when he frowns(pouts) as he looked up at you. You couldn't resist teasing him,

You held his chin and went closer to his lips. Which in return, his face becomes red as his thoughts explode and are scattered everywhere. He shuts his eyes, waiting for you to kiss him.....but you didn't. He opened his eyes after hearing you chuckle. How mean! You didn't give him a kiss :(

His face was full of shock and disappointment. He desperately tried to get a kiss from you, tugging your sleeve he politely asks for one. He was still satisfied when you smothered his face with kisses(except for the lips, sadly) he flinched when he felt your hands petting his tail. Covering his own mouth from letting out pleasurable sighs.

"You have such beautiful scales." You said, softly picking up the tail closer to your face and kissing it, making him feel flustered. You stared at the fluff on the end of his tail, so you softly pet it too. "It's quite fluffy and soft, I feel like I'm in some sort of paradise," you slightly laughed at the statement you made.

He retracts his tail, and he suddenly rips out a scale from it. He hissed at the pain but soon held both of your hands and put the scale onto it. It was a token of his love. "I would do anything for you to prove my love, even if I have to get my hands dirty, even if I have to injure myself too. So please love me back," He begs. His sanity and life are in your hands. You were still shocked and concerned as he said this. Hearing you sigh, he panicked. Did he do something wrong? He's sorry! Please forgive him, he'll try his best to fix it! :(

He becomes putty in your hands, letting you bandage his tail (although it was a bit hard since his tail was thrashing around as he was very happy for some reason.) You kissed the injury on his tail, making him tilt his head in wonder and blush....

Soon, he lets you out of the room and even outside! Of course not without him. He glares daggers into people. If his stare could kill people, the whole world wouldn't even exist. He was about to kill the merchant that touched your hand! How dare they touch you?! (Poor merchant was trying to give you a sample of food)

And he kills the people who try to flirt with you and dispose of their corpse. He comes home all bloody as you scold him. You had to take HOURS to wash the blood off of him. And it's even worse when it got on the fur of his tail! (One time, he whimpered and moaned by accident when you scrubbed his horns and tail....didn't appear for a whole week unless u were going outside)

But he becomes sooooo flustered when you flirt with him and especially in public. (He thought you were showing people that he was yours....I mean, I can't say it's not true)

He always whines and begs if you don't give him your attention and affection. And of course, all of your love within 2 minutes. And if you don't, you'll have to comfort him that you do love him because he starts over-thinking that you don't anymore or he has done something wrong.

He was getting some empty books for you to write on until he found a book with the exact same writing.....(he may or may have bought it) he definitely bought it. He read the whole context, and whenever you were near him lately, his face turned redder than red itself! (The book was about you and him love life)

Oh, how he loves you.....he wonders how you'll react when he gives you the heart of the person you hate..well, he won't do it now until marriage.

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janesurlife · 4 days ago

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Normally I'd see tweets like this and move on but Today I have my day off so I'm gonna deep dive into this "carlando has ruined f1" narrative and the particular part of fandom that's behind it. Spoilers alert it's charles fan aka lestappies

This bitch has the audacity to say this about carlando while posting this shit..ok sure ma'am, carlando is the one ruining the sport and not a fictional ship which has made it to top-65 of ao3 tags...sure it's carlando yeah

I mean I could be generous and say "enjoy your ship but don't be annoying" but I am not in a generous mood so I'm gonna spit facts. Carlando although is a ship that people like, it's actually a real friendship between two people who have been teammates with each other, know each other's family very well, went to family weddings together and have celebrated each other's wins without any malice (unlike sour puss). Meanwhile lestappen exists only and only in certain people's imagination and on ao3.

So tell me, dear viewers which one of these two is ACTUALLY the k-popification of f1 and ruining the sport? I think we all know the answer and it's not carlando.

saying "carlando was a mistake" as if that's something fans have "created" and not an actual friendship between two grown ass men (lestappies can dream).

The reality of the hate behind carlando is the fact that Charles fans LOVE to blame carlos and Lando for everything and anything that goes wrong in the sport. They hate those two drivers and go to stupid lengths to justify that hate. Bitch grow some balls and own it!

They have this delusion that "everyone loves charles cause he earned it" and I'm gonna tell you a very harsh but true fact and it's that most of you like Charles cause he's a decent looking white man who drives for a prestigious f1 team. If he wasn't in ferrari his fanbase would be half of what it is now or maybe even less. Although it's not a crime to like someone for their appearance but trying to say that it's not what it actually is, that's the problem. So please go ahead and write lestappen fics on ao3 and leave Carlos and Lando out of your delusion.

I would also like to address something here that's been bugging me for a while. These people in their attempts to make carlando the big bad evil of f1 take the conversation away from the real evil of f1 that's fia and liberty media. Fia being inconsistent in their penalties and trying to control very personal aspects of drivers like what they wear and what they speak, is doing more damage to f1 than two men being nice to each other. The rich countries throwing money at fia to get a grand prix without caring about the fact how dangerous it could get for drivers like Qatar was. And fia continuously allowing more and more GPs to be held in US even after the absolute cluster fuck that miami and las vegas was last year. The increasing number of street circuits even after knowing how unsafe they are IS THE REAL EVIL not carlando you fucking dufus.

#carlos sainz #carlos sainz jr #lando norris #f1 2024 #f1 twitter #formula one #fia #liberty media

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sineala · 3 months ago

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I subscribe to the newsletter of an author I like who wrote a book about 9/11 and the War on Terror and the security state in the US and how it led to the election of Trump, and it's all very serious but apparently the author is writing an Iron Man comics series. I don't read the comics, and a lot of what I know about them comes from your fic, so I'm honestly not sure how much fanon vs canon knowledge I have. 😂 But the series sounds like it might be interesting I think? The author talked about it in his newsletter today. (This link should work. Probably.)

https://www.forever-wars.com/iron-man-how-to-blow-up-a-pipeline-succession/

I am actually really excited about this run! I try not to get excited about new Iron Man runs because chances are high that my hopes and dreams will be crushed, and I know that just because someone writes, say, stunningly excellent non-fiction, it is not a guarantee that they will be great at writing fiction at all or superhero comics specifically (cf. Ta-Nehisi Coates on Cap), but judging by everything Spencer Ackerman's been saying in interviews, his run sounds like it's going to explore a lot of interesting themes.

The post you linked links to an AIPT podcast that he was on a few days ago to talk about his new Iron Man run. For those of you who don't listen to podcasts (this is also me), the Iron Man subreddit has what seems like a fairly comprehensive summary of the interview, and I am really looking forward to the run. Issue #1 apparently hits stores on October 23.

But I will tell you why I am actually now really excited about this run. It's not relevant to anything about the comic itself. I am nonetheless very excited.

Last month, after he was announced as the new Iron Man writer, in order to hype up his run, he posted an offer on his blog: if you add the run to your pull list, and you email him proof that you're pulling his run and include a snail-mail address, he will mail you some cool Iron Man stickers.

I eventually got around to doing this last week. I was assuming he didn't actually pay attention to any of these emails so I dashed off a couple sentences about how I was looking forward to his take on Tony because he'd posted a photo of the Iron Man comics he was reading for research and several of them were among my favorites. And then I went off to get bagels.

By the time I had come back with bagels, twenty minutes later, he'd written me a very nice reply substantively engaging with the content of my extremely off-the-cuff message -- geez, if I'd known he was going to be actually reading them I would have put a lot more thought into it, you know? It was very kind and I was not expecting it.

He spelled my first name wrong in the reply, despite it being in the email header and also the name I had signed the email with.

This happens to me a lot. I have a first name that is very common in a lot of languages, but none of those languages are English. I'd say there's a 50-50 chance that a native English speaker will spell or pronounce my name wrong. This is unfortunate, because I live in the US and mostly interact with native English speakers. (My wife @lysimache immediately knew how to pronounce my name. I mean, it wasn't why I married her or anything, but I feel like it was a big plus on a personal level.)

If I have to give my name for something, I will reflexively spell it. The second-to-last time I voted, they'd switched voter lookup to you giving them your name rather than you giving your street address, which was a surprise that filled me with dread. My wife was in line ahead of me and she was completely finished voting by the time the poll workers had finished correctly spelling my name. (The last time I voted, I just handed them my ID, which is not required in my state, but I really wanted this to go faster.) I went to the doctor last week, and when they called my name in the waiting room, they said it wrong. I corrected them. They said it differently wrong a couple minutes later. I corrected them again. They said it wrong again. At that point I gave up.

(If I could think of a name I liked better that I was absolutely sure that most people could spell and pronounce, I would change my name. I still have not found one.)

So, you know, I'm used to it. It happens. Frequently. I was not at all surprised that he spelled it wrong.

He then emailed me again to apologize for spelling my name wrong. Like, immediately. One minute later. He said he was sorry and he knew a lot of people with a similar name.

Dude. Nobody does that. Nobody actually apologizes. Especially not in an email to a rando like me. He did not need to do that. At all. I was not expecting him to do that. He did that. I was honestly touched. No one bothers to do that. But he did.

I got my stickers in the mail yesterday.

I have redacted the portion of the note that has my name in it, but he absolutely spelled my name correctly.

Mr. Ackerman, sir, I hope your comic sells a million copies.

#replies #celticjade13

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thegeorgiatennantblog · 3 months ago

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*Clanking pots and pans together *

I have a message for all the tin hatters and misogynists in the Tumblr fandom.

28th August, The Year of Our Nerd 2024

To Whom It May Concern

It has been precisely one year and one month to the fact that I first came across this malady that has been plaguing our fandom. Other fandoms have been more or less unfortunate in this regard. What started as a lighthearted joke has now turned into a toxic, vile, festering wound. For a long time I either ignored these blogs and their opinions or very politely tried to dismiss them. For an even longer time I was made to feel that I was in the wrong. After all we live in a free society and all of us believe int he idea of freedom of speech, freedom to hold whatever views and beliefs, and freedom to express those views and beliefs. But the very same citizens of these free society's in today's world are also facing a dilemma: how far does this right go? Is it unconditional? Is it absolute? Or does it qualify to some form of check or some form of necessary derogation under exceptional circumstances? When do those circumstances arise?

Most of us have come to an understanding in regard to the question, though all of us may not agree to it: it is understood that where your right to exercise your freedom offends and restricts my right to do or causes in any way for me or anyone else to feel endangered, then that is where we draw the line.

Reading @do-angels-dream-of-starry-seas 's post today I have come to the conclusion that the time has come to draw that line. It is a question on where we stand as a fandom if we let such bigotry and such hate prevail any longer.

I want to let everyone know where I stand. I have nothing against fanfiction. I have nothing against RPF. People have been creating RPF since time immemorial. If not for RPF a large amount of literature, film, music and other forms of art would not exist. Shakespear's Histories are essentially RPF, Hamilton is RPF, Netflix's The Crown is RPF, Le Morte d'Arthur is RPF, Baz Luhrman's Elvis is RPF and so is Andrew Dominic's Blonde. You may like some of it, you might dislike some of it. You might even be vehemently against some of it. But that's all it is at the end of the day; fiction. It doesn't hurt anyone. The real problem arises when people start becoming unbale to differentiate between fiction and reality. And that's no better than thinking that just cz someone played a serial killer in a movie means they're evil irl too.

It becomes suffocating for others to exist in these spaces when the delusion that the RFP is real transcends to take an even worse shape namely hating the real people involved in said person's life. How could you justify hating on their real life partners just so you can satisfy your delusional belief that these men are actually in love with each other.

Maybe it springs from a need to justify our lives in terms of conspiracy theories in this growing pandemic of untruths and fake news. Maybe it springs from some deep rooted internalized misogyny. Who can say?

Before I move on I want to highlight some problems with the wntire tinhatter discourse.

The existence of a PR. I want to clarify this here and now. PR works for important, famous, insanely rich people whose global fame makes their identity a part of the public domain so much that their entire image needs to be curated to meet certain requirements. PR works for Taylor Swift and Leonardo DiCaprio and Barak Obama. Who is does NOT work for are people who are only locally well known, live reasonably ordinary lifestyles, and have a painfully insignificant following outside their own cultural context.

The idea that one picture or a five second video can tell the truth about someone's entire personal life. It cannot. It never will. Body language is not even a science. Body language is misleading. Facial expressions are misleading. I am writing this right now with the most bland expression on my face. People around me think I'm writing an email. My internal emotions right now are another story. Moreover no one owes anyone any sort of information on their personal life, their love life, their mood, their life choices or whatever. Their lives are not public property. Please respect that.

The women are the villains. This blatant misogyny has become intolerable as the days go by considering most of these posts are written by women themselves. The whole controlling wife, poor meek guy trope is so fckng infuriating. When did we wake up to a world where women hold the reigns and an adult white upper middle class male cannot tell her that he wants a divorce. I thought this only happened to unprivileged women in third world countries who cannot file a divorce bcs then she will be left penniless and socially disgraced. The women baby trapped them. Of course they feel responsibility for the kids now. Child birth is the second most painful experience after being burnt to death. No woman does it for the pleasure of it nor for some strategic benefit that it will serve her. And giving birth to not just one but many. And then raising them. That's not easy! Secondly, having children is a mutual decision and process. If only women could make babies, we'd get rid of men for good lol! (this is a joke plz don't @ me) If someone decides to have children with someone, and we're not talking just one accidental pregnancy or sth... we're talking several kids over the years.... then they probably have that level of attachment, love and commitment to their partner. It's just common sense.

Absolute cynicism. Anything Georgia and Anna do is met with cynicism and their words are deliberately twisted to mean the opposite. While D and M will be applauded for speaking up for a cause, when G and A do the same, they are shouted down as pretentious or that PR made them do it. When D and M show affection towards each other that's all real and true but when G and A show affection to their partners it fake and a PR stunt. Moreover, the way they interact with their partners is also completely misunderstood. Anna is more private and subtle about her gestures of praise and affection. But from what she does show publicly we know that she absolutely adores her partner and her kids. Georgia on the other hand has her own way. She teases, makes jokes, pokes fun at him, but she's also literally the woman that is being ultra-horny for him on Twitter and Instagram in front of everyone else. And I think that comes from the fact that they were friends first and lovers second and they have maintained that playful friendly relationship with each other. Still, she is accused of never being appreciative, being cringey, possessive, creepy and always bringing him down. Oh, and we never talk about how Michael next to never promotes Davis's achievements. In fact, no one else I know does it. Literally the only person is Georgia jumping up and down going "This is my partner! Have you seen them! Have you seen how awesome they are! I love them!" Not just that, these tinhatters have such double standards that while D's neurodivergent traits are being praised, G takes the rap for it. She's a careless mum, an unworthy partner; none of her professional achievements matter. She is fighting her dyslexia and neurodivergence to achieve something but the tinhatters will make ableist remarks to bring her down. But they don't just stop there. They accuse her of abuse, rape and cyber harassment. Pray that she doesn't find out because accusing someone of that can get you behind the bars hon!

I know that none of this is going to disappear over night. We fight the fight every day and we hope that tumblr goes back to being the safe space it once was. But till then, it is important that we stay strong and stay together. I have had people come into my ds with links and other stuff that made me want to jump off a cliff. I have been subjected to some horrendous lies, all in a bid to 'convert' me. Sadly that's not happening babes.

So I just want these tinhatters to know that if you're here, then we're here too. And no matter how much of this toxic bile you keep spewing we'll keep washing it away. And that @dtmsrpfcringe and @goodomenswarning don't have to do it alone. If you wanna go at them then come at me bitches!

And I'm not scared to call y'all out @ingravinoveritas @letscoffeebreak @nightgoodomens

@invisibleicewands @climb-dtennant-like-a-tree @thetardisisbluandroseistoo and others but mainly you guys cz you're the ring leaders. Go on block me if you want to I don't care! Or better, send me some of those creepy asks you guys send Tori. At least it would take the burden off her!

Oh and, before I go, @dtmsrpfcringe you're a champ and we love you and we stand with you!!!

Yours Sincerely,

Meena. x

curator of TheGeorgiaTennantBlog

#why don't you pick on someone your own size #waiting for the day when the rpf tinhatters get their heads out of their a$$#georgia tennant #anna lundberg #michael sheen #david tennant #rpf #the damned rpf discourse #tinhatters #good omens #staged #bbc staged #sheenbergants #the tennants #sorry for the rant guys but i really had a lot bottled up

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antimony-medusa · 1 year ago

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Is that— bells ringing? Keyboards clacking? The sound of two thousand stressed writers pancing furiously about the floor? Ah yes, Yuletide.

Hello. MCYTblr. I am back again.

You are looking fine today as we move towards the end of the year. Is that a new cologne you're trying? New shirt? New glasses? It's working for you. How have I been? Well.

Well.

*I smack the wall, curtains spring aside, revealing my flip chart presentation that I've had lying in wait*

It is time for me to talk to you about Yuletide again. I was here earlier during tag nominations, but it's sign-up time, and I want to make sure everybody has a change to participate in this if they want to.

What's Yuletide?

Yuletide is an annual mega-exchange for small and rare fandoms. It runs in the close of the year, with a 1000 word minimum for gifts, with gifts revealed anonymously on the 25th of December and de-anoned on the 1st of January. It is easily the biggest exchange in multi-fandom-exchange-world, and last year more than 1,350 people signed up.

Why does everyone sign up?

Well, it's tradition, for one. There are a lot of people that only do Yuletide as their big exchange every year. It's a big holiday spectacle, it's really fun to see it operate and see pinch hits come out and get nabbed in minutes, and people kind of put on their holiday outfits and turn out for it.

For another thing, if you are in a small fandom, it's the one exchange where you can actually have a shot of getting a gift for an obscure manga fandom, or an out-of-print book, or a tv show from the eighties. If your fandom has five people in it, the odds are higher than average that two of them are signing up for this exchange, and hey presto, suddenly you're matchable in your fandom for an obscure podcast.

For another, and this is the biggie, the fact that this is an exchange for small and rare fandoms has led to a certain tradition and vibe for the fandoms that people nominate. People bring their most obscure and fun ideas, going, "hehehehe wouldn't it be fun if someone wrote a story about this", and into the tag set it goes. There is SUCH a spectrum of fandoms in the tag set.

This year there are 4,263 fandoms and 16,735 characters in the tag set. Let me just skim through and look at some of them.

There are commercials, web sketches, art pieces, songs, music videos, board games, podcasts, a dizzying assortment of anthropomorphising different places, items, and ideas, and RPF from a marvelous variety of historical periods (so, y'know, historical fiction if it was published professionally). There are people who nominated tik tok sketches. Twitter threads. A bridge. Book binding techniques. You ever wanted to write a romance between Knitting and Crochet? That's in the tag set, and someone wants to prompt you to do that. Happy Yuletide.

So if you are at all the sort of person who likes a prompt challenge, BOY is this one just a MARVELOUS one. I know I personally am going to be signing up for Humans are Space Orcs (tumblr post) and Fandom Exchanges (Anthropomorphic) amid my more traditional fandoms.

And as for my more traditional fandoms, and the reason why this post has the tags it does (I would get to it eventually)— there is a lot of MCYT in the tag set! I put out a post saying GUYS, the smaller fandoms might apply for this, and BOY did people show up for it. I scanned through it, and the MCYT (and adjacent) that made it in is:

Karmaland SMP

Legacy SMP

Lifesteal SMP

Moonlight SMP

New Life SMP

Outsiders SMP

Rats SMP

SMPEarth

SMPLive

Witchcraft SMP

Pirates SMP

Mianite

Slimecicle Cinematic Universe

SBI Rust

Generation Loss

You could make an entire sign up, 3 minimum requests and 4 minimum requests, and only select MCYT fandoms. The wild thing is that you can only select a max of 10 fandoms to offer, so you actually couldn't offer all of the MCYT. ZombieCleo Witchraft SMP is in. Tommyinnit SMPEarth. Clownpierce Lifesteal. Tubbo SBI Rust. Oli Rats SMP. A wealth of options for the block folks.

So come, join me! What's that? You say this sounds excellent, you're in? You want to know how to sign up? Well this post is already long enough so I'm putting the rest below a cut.

You sign up on the collection here, using fandoms listed in the tagset here. Before you do so though, I'd recommend you check out the blog, especially their "how to sign up" post here, because even if you're used to exchanges, the way Yuletide works is a little bit different. Let me do a quick breakdown here.

Requests

# of Fandoms

You have to select a minimum of 3 fandoms that you are Requesting (a gift that you want made for you), up to a maximum of 6 fandoms. Each fandom has to be unique. For each fandom, you can request between 0 to 4 characters in that fandom, and 0 means "literally you can hit me with anybody", and the up-to-4 characters are the people you definately want to show up in the fic.

AND MATCHING

This is one of the things that Yuletide does differently, because most fandom exchanges do "or" matching, where they match you on either characer A OR character B, (maybe you only offered character B) and you can pick among any of the selected characters on the person's request to write for. Because Yuletide does AND matching, you will only be matched if you offered every single one of the characters the person has selected, and then you get to write for every single one they have listed in their fandom, unless they say differently in their letter. If they requested character A and Character B, you get to deliver a gift that includes them both, according to the rules.

Bu like, in practice, a lot of people are a bit more like "you can pick only one of these guys if you'd like", because that is how everyone is used to things running in most other exchanges, plus people don't want to be too picky, so you can specify in your letter if you definately 100% want characters A, B, and C, or if you're fine with just A, or just A and C, or whatever constellation of characters you're chill with.

This year they have added optional freeform tags you will click on, that will specify either A) use every single one of these guys I selected. B) I have specified in my letter which guys I need for sure and which ones you can swap, C) Dealer's Choice Of Guys Go Crazy.

DNW and Optional Details

Yuletide is an "Optional Details Are Optional" (ODAO) exchange, so technically you could request (or receive) an offer that just has the characters and then you get to go absolutely buckwild for the two month writing period. Most people, however, do not want to do that, so that is where you'll put in Do Not Wants (anything that would ruin the gift for you, from major archive warnings to kinks that you don't vibe with to headcanons you loathe), and some prompts and/or likes for your person to jump off of.

DNWs absolutely must be abided by, and breaking a person's DNW is grounds for getting turfed from the exchange. Following a person's prompts or lists of likes is technically optional, but definately best practice, and y'know, part of the whole spirit of the exchange. Most people are doing their best to adhere to both the DNW and the Optional Details when they do their gift.

You can just format your DNW and Optional Details on the Ao3 signup page (easy, fast), or you can link them offsite in a letter (fancy, you can do formatting, people do them in google docs or dreamwidth pages (the traditional and more accessible option)). There's a tradition of people posting their letter links here, so that people can get an idea for what sort of prompts and signups people are offering, and make sure they're matchable to people with especially fun ideas. Note: you do have to duplicate the data if you're doing a letter, cause if you put your DNW in your letter but NOT in your Ao3, the mods won't enforce it.

And while we're here, that last link is to a community blog that includes a place where you can promo your fandoms to lure people into signing up for your guys, or participate in mini-challenges within yuletide for people who specificially want poly relationships (Three Doves Challenge), or characters of colour (Chromatic Yuletide), or horror/darkfic (Crueltide), or smut (Yuleporn), or art (Wrapping Paper), or even more. There's even a poetry challenge!

Offers

# of Fandoms

You have to sign up with a minimum of 4 fandoms, to a maximum of 10, for fandoms you are Offering (a gift you are willing to make). You must offer at least 2 characters for each fandom, to a maximum of 20— but there's also an "any" tick box if you want to go full "hit me, I like a challenge" and you'll write anything (in the tag set) within a fandom. Each of your fandoms must be unique.

Writing Period:

Signups are open through the 21st, with assignments out by the 23rd, and then you have until the 18th of December to deliver your gift.

Important Notes

You must be 18 or over to participate in Yuletide (because you might be matched with someone who requests smut), and signups close on 9pm UTC on Saturday, 21 October.

There's a known issue where the safari browser isn't letting people sign up properly, (when you get an exchange this big sometimes things break), so they say to either sign up on mobile or use a different browser. So that will be fun for me.

And that's it! Yuletide! Just under a week left to sign up, and 351 people have signed up as I write this letter at 1:30am. I just refreshed it and now it's 352. You can sign up on the Ao3 page here!

JOIN ME EXCHANGES SUCH FUN LETS GO.

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hobisstar · 1 year ago

Text

blue | y!taehyung x fem!reader

summary: breaking up over difficult reasons was always tuff to handle. Everyone had their different ways with dealing with them. But, Taehyung wasn’t everyone, and he be damned if the love of his life thought it was okay to say such a thing.

warning: nothing too bad! light cursing, a little bit of angst, Taehyung is a little bit of a manipulator in this, tae is a painter in this. possessiveness.

tag list: none!

a/n: Hello! i’ve been on a role but this one will be short! just wanted to get an idea out before i go to bed! if you like this short one, let me know if i should make a longer version of it! enjoy!

disclaimer: as always, i do not intend to say that anyone i write open are actually like this. this is purely fiction and i would like to only keep it that way.

Blue.

the color that y/n thought explained her relationship deeply. it was the color that she picked out in each apartment she shared with her lover, Taehyung.

She loved him… at the start. she really did. But once his career started to take off, he changed and for the worst. he constantly was coming home late after hang out with some painters, constantly smelling like someone else’s perfume, constantly sleeping in on days that the both of them planned to go out and see the world, see the blue.

this time, it was the last straw. taehyung had come back at 3 am with some girl and a guy that was carrying him inside. she promised herself that in the morning she would leave and never return. tired of living the life of a famous man’s forgotten girlfriend.

morning comes and y/n was awaken by the smell of coffee and breakfast but also by the sound of smooth jazz playing. She assumed Tae was in one of his many paintings moods. When he was hungover, coffee and painting was his remedy. Always came up with a beautiful painting that he described as “ lady” who he said always was made in the thoughts of Y/N.

as she got up, took a shower and did her daily morning routine, she remembered her promise. This ends today, now, right now. Yes, she loves him or loved him. But she couldn’t continue to live like this anymore.

She walked to the closet and grabbed the nearest duffel bag and packed most off her clothes shoes and under garments. Lucky for her, her best friend lived not too far from here and always offered her home to her.

Once everything was packed she was heading down the huge staircase and realized that Tae must of been in the kitchen painting this time. She put everything of hers in her car and walked back in ready to end this, no matter what he said, Y/N was completely leaving.

She walked into the kitchen hearing the sweet deep hums of her now mentally but not physically ex boyfriend. His back facing her, she cleared her voice.

“ Tae, do you remember anything about last night?” she asked sitting at the island. “ No, All i remember is that Jimin and Amy carried me home last night. Im sorry, Mi amor, for coming in so late..” he said smiling lightly. he was truly sorry even if it didn’t show. That was Taehyung.

his answers seemed cold, heartless even, but mistaken his love for Y/N. He loves her with his life.

“ Taehyung i can’t do this anymore.” y/n blurted. While still painting Taehyung answered “ Hmm? Do what my dear?” he softly put the paint brush against the canvas. He was painting an image of what their intimacy looked like in art form. Though he had plenty of these paintings, it’s the only thing he would paint after being drunk.

“ Us. Im tired of the drinking, the partying, the coming home at whatever time of night, the ditching me, the canceling dates for the faulty friends of yours. Im tired of sitting in this colorless home when our love is supposed to make it colorful. Im done, Tae. I want to break up.” You stated and took a breath that you didn’t realize you held in. Being this honest felt so refreshing. “ I don’t need your answer, i already packed my things and i’m going to stay with my family for now until i find me a place permanently.” she cut in.

nothing. Taehyung said nothing. but oh he was thinking it. his mind just running on thoughts. he wanted to be okay and accept her choice like a normal human, but he damn sure wasn’t normal. he’s always had the thoughts of locking Y/N up when the day of her maybe wanting to leave came about. he didn’t know it be that fast.

why does she want to leave him so bad? when did y/n have all these issues with his lifestyle? why is it just now coming up? why doesn’t want to talk about it? all of these of examples of what is running through his head. instead of actually letting out a answer, he lets a huff out as he puts his paintbrushes down.

“ Why are you trying to leave?” he asked lowly, “ why is my lifestyle all of a sudden a problem for you?” he just wanted answers. Though he was really trying to add time so he could think about ways to keep her locked her.

He always has bodyguards at their house in the entrance, he could have them bring her bags in and get her car towed. Have them get their food, send out his newest works while he stayed in the house with her. Yeah, he thinks he’ll do exactly that.

“ Trying? oh no Kim, i’m leaving. All of sudden? i’ve mentioned your drinking and party habits plenty of times but you thought i was just nagging you so you ‘mi amor’ d your way out of it,” Y/N stood up and walked out the kitchen to the living room. Taehyung took this time to text his body guards to grab her things out her car, bring them to the back, take her car somewhere far, sell it and put the house on lock down.

He smirked and walked out of the kitchen and stood at the door way between the living room and kitchen, watching her walk to the front door but only to freeze.

Y/N saw the blue light on security system, the light means that the house was on lock down, no way in and no way out, unless you have the code which Taehyung changes every month. He just so happened to had change it earlier this morning. Good choice he was thinking.

“ Taehyung, take off the lock down.” Y/N stated while standing by the door, waiting. He smiled and walked close to her and leaned against the wall.

“ Y/N~, Mi amor~, i find it absolutely entertaining that he had any hope in assuming i was going to let you out this house. You don’t make the choices for us, baby. I do. I decided when you can walk away. And i decided you can’t-“ - “ you can’t force me to stay in here,” “ Cut me off again and i’ll lock you up without any food or water for the next two days until you learn your lesson.” He walked away and sat on the couch organizing the table in front of it.

Y/N was trying to figure out the code. she tried her birthday, nothing, his birthday, nothing, their anniversary, surprise, nothing. “ There is no use, princess.” he turned to look at her. “ It’s not Yeon’s birthday either or the day we got him. You should be a good girl. maybe i’ll let you out early.” he smiled, the smile you used to love.

y/n didn’t expect this. she never thought Tae would do something like this. locking her and hisself in the house for god knows how long? maybe months, maybe years…

“ Let’s go paint something, baby. And don’t be so blue, i won’t hurt you…” he mumbled the last part while staring at her.

Blue.

the color y/n now understands why she thought it was their color. Taehyung always had a way of making her feel stuck. Defeated. Lost with no where to go. he made her feel…

Blue.

#bts x reader #bts taehyung #kim taehyung #thv #bts v #yandere taehyung #taehyung x reader #taehyung #taehyung angst

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