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jeongin-lvr · 6 months ago

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OK ok, but yk that fic about jeongin and beomgyu? Now, imagine jeongin pulls the “I’m going on tour” card and your bestie beomgyu pulls up and reader can’t HELP but want some of that d and lil beomgyu gets revenge on jeongin girlfriendddddddd?

I love your brain mwah… for those interested this is the original ask :p

Jeongin didn’t like it but it had to be done; he had to leave for tour. It was only a few short months but to him it felt like an eternity, and he was sure that he’d die in that little span of time. He’d told you with his whole heart that you’re his even when he’s away, whispering late at night the few days before he had to leave that, well, he loves you but also that you’re forbidden from doing anything without him. And by anything he means touching yourself, even if you’re desperate. And you could tell by the stern dimness of his eyes that he meant it. “Don’t even think about it, baby,” Jeongin demands and for a second you pout, wondering what you’ll do when times get needy for you. Jeongin was strict, very, very strict. Honestly it was a little cruel but he was set in his ways. And if he says no touching yourself, he really fucking means it.

The thing about Jeongin is that he knows you too well— he knows when you’re needy and he definitely knows when you’re aching for him. So he wasn’t worried about anything like that. He knew that you were very obedient (most of the time) and you always managed to do as you were told. However, he had the complete opposite feeling toward his supposed best friend. The same man who spent hours yearning for you; groaning into his hand as his fingers wrapped around himself, pretending it was you. Oh, Jeongin knew it all. Beomgyu was more than willing to pounce as soon as Jeongin was away. Jeongin found himself demanding another thing of you, “And while im away, love, don’t even think about talking to Beomgyu,” to you, that was simple. You never truly longed to converse with your boyfriend’s friends, but when Beomgyu received a text from the very same man, he was livid:

“Dont touch her,” Beomgyu read with a sneer on his face, grimacing as another text loaded, “Even when I’m away she’s still mine.” And Beomgyu suddenly had it set in his mind that he didn’t just want you anymore; he needed you. Not only that, he needed to prove that Jeongin didn’t have as much control over the two of you as he thought.

Quite frankly it was easy. You were dumb, he was conniving. So it didn’t take long before he’d weaseled his way into your life; meanwhile Jeongin sat in a hotel bed across the world, oblivious to how Beomgyu had you bent over the bed right now. Oblivious to the way Beomgyu’s name rolled off your tongue between indecent pants; hips rolling along with every little thrust forward he made into you, drool pooling on the side of your cheek and into the thin fabric of your bed sheets. It really didn’t take long; Beomgyu had you broken for him in a matter of days.

“You dumb fuckin’ girl, going stupid on my cock,” Beomgyu berated between breathless groans. He’d wanted this for so long; now there was no one in his way to stop him from finally having what he wants. He possessed his prize, he didn’t intend on letting this moment go to waste, “Doesn’t that feel nice? Better than your stupid boyfriend, yeah? He can’t make you feel this way— this good.” Beomgyu’s words did nothing but egg you on, cunt clenching around his length— it was so different from your boyfriends. Beomgyu was a little longer, curved different and the lewd stretch of his cock was dizzying. Your boyfriend would just about lose it right now if he saw this; you moaning another man’s name, taking another man’s cock. “Say something, baby, c’mon,” Beomgyu bent to your face, pressing his chest into your sweaty back, aching to hear your voice.

You nodded stupidly, jaw hanging open and eyes fluttering as his big hands came to grip yours; the touch was nothing like Jeongin’s either. Beomgyu’s fingers were colder, his palms bigger and the grip he had on you was harsh. You moaned into the mattress, too dumb to even think about regret. “It’s— fuck, mm, it’s so good! Gyu—“ Beomgyu always loved when you called him that, now he found another reason to love it. His hips smashed into yours quicker, not caring how overwhelming it all was for you. He needed to memorialize this moment forever; capture it not just for himself but for a particular someone who’s kept you away from him longer than needed. Beomgyu’s eyes drifted, falling to your phone that lay unattended a few spaces away from your head. Oh, it was sick, it was borderline evil. But Beomgyu grinned like a mastermind as he let go of your hand and reached for the phone. Your mind was too hazy to realize but he’d swiped left on the screen and opened the camera, giggling slightly as he pressed the red, enticing record button. You didn’t realize he was recording so you moaned his name, and you moaned desperately, wishing he’d moved his hips again with that same needy vigor he had before. Now he was simply rolling your hips against his, the phone stuck on where you sucked him in so good.

“That’s it, say my name,” Beomgyu grinned, moving the camera to sit on the pillow beside your head, getting the view of your fucked out face and his own evil grin. You saw yourself, dumb expression embarrassingly staring back at you, then you saw Beomgyu, wrapping his hands around your waist as he pulled out, leaving just the tip in, eyes falling to the camera again, “What, shy now? Baby, c’mon, don’t be scared…” Beomgyu slammed himself inside of you and this time, the embarrassment you felt melted away, your nails clawing at the sheets. Beomgyu had no shame in this; if anything he felt glee. Pure pride that he’d finally gotten you.

When he saw that video Jeongin sent him a few weeks prior he swore he’d never felt a rage like that; this was just revenge, and it was better than heaven. He hoped that Jeongin would receive this at the worst time; he hoped that he’d feel even a fraction of what Beomgyu had felt just a few weeks ago. Jealous didn’t even begin to describe it.

#౨ৎ. dee’s hard hours #feat. beomgyu .ᐟ #txt smut #txt x reader #beomgyu smut #choi beomgyu #beomgyu hard thoughts #beomgyu x reader

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yourheart-inmyhands · 1 year ago

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I’m here to add onto the idea/request of a previous fic with the archons with a reader who is a fallen god/archon. So instead of reader being banished or overthrown like how the archons may think.. turns out reader/old text books were keeping something from them. Reader faked their death (like another certain archon *cough* *cough* zhongli) and when pressed into why they faked their death. All that reader says is ‘I fell in love with a human centuries ago yada yada and gave up some of my powers and status’ yeah turns out they��ve been human for a couple hundred years and still held onto their god like powers and life span😭. So reader is all like ‘I can be an archon if I do desire again. BUT I grew used to living as a human and I’ve gotten used to you 🫶’ (totally not because they don’t want to resume their duties and explain to their citizens why they were “dead” for a couple centuries)

hi i only did venti and zhongli for this because i'm trying to cut back to 2-3 characters per post so if you want to see the other two feel free to requests them! i'll be sure to attend to it quickly since i technically shorted you on this one, which i apologize for, i hope you still enjoy it :D

Warning: this post contains yandere-themes, including delusional behaviors, obsessive behaviors, mentions of implied violence, mentions of nations being destroyed, and other potential topics. Please read at your own risk!

Yandere!Venti feels jealous at first, you had loved someone else? But he quickly gets over it, focusing on the fact that you were in fact, technically an Archon. He couldn’t guess which one you were, so you’d have to tell him, but he’d be fascinated to hear about the stories of who your people used to be. It’s pretty clear that wherever you used to is no longer an existing place, the Archon war having wiped out any nation and their God that could not hold themself up against the powerful beings. Venti feels a sick satisfaction at the idea that he may have been responsible for destroying your previous region, he thinks it’s funny.

Venti listens as you tell of your previous home, your people and their land, your first love. He doesn’t care to think of who your first love was, praising the fact that they were dead right now and he was alive and here with you. He tries to remember back to the Archon War, trying to think of who had been responsible for wiping out your nation. It was a long time ago and with many smaller gods culled so that the strongest seven could remain in control. Venti hopes it was him who had the pleasure of destroying your lands, he thinks it would be a cute little coincidence that he had destroyed your people whilst you pretended to be mortal and ran around with a human man. He tells you that you don’t need to return to Archon status, that no one was waiting for you, and if you weren’t careful one of the others might step out of line and execute you. He would never let it happen, but he uses it as a scare tactic, wanting to keep you weaker and more human, below him.

Yandere!Zhongli would find it curious, his extensive memory bringing back the exact playthrough of what had happened back then. He remembers hearing of a lesser god passing, he remembers smiling, taking advantage of your ‘passing’ back then to overtake your land. He doesn’t bring it up to you, not wanting to tarnish his perfect image of himself in your mind.

It was kind of sickening, that Zhongli could remember way back, back when he still went by Morax, back when killing off weaker gods was something more commonplace. You had passed mysteriously, leaving behind a godless nation with no one to protect it. And Morax was all for having the upper hand. He didn’t bring it up as you reminisced about your days in power, contemplating about returning. “Who left is there to return to? In this day and age you couldn’t gather a following without it being seen as a declaration of war to one of the currently throned seven, me included.” It’s a subtle way of putting it but Zhongli made it clear that it was best you continued to lay low, lest physical action need be taken, Zhongli included. The man much preferred that you say weaker and below him on the food chain, in your place, where he could easily assert his control over you.

#genshin x reader #genshin x male reader #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin x male reader #venti x reader #venti x male reader #yandere venti x reader #yandere venti x male reader #zhongli x reader #zhongli x male reader #yandere zhongli x reader #yandere zhongli x male reader #yandere venti #yandere zhongli #yandere genshin

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goldsbitch · 9 months ago

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Here I go again

part 4 to I gave so many signs

summary: Afternoon talks are harder than late night fucks.

warning: present + flashbacks, mentions of cheating and typos

song fic (disclaimer: rights belong to the respectable owners)

The Louvre - Lorde Mamma Mia - ABBA (shoot me, I heard an amazing slow piano version of it and got obsessed)

"We heard some noises on the stairway, were you alone?" her mom asked first thing in the morning. The irony that her mom would actually approve of Charles maybe a little too enthusiastically was not lost on Y/N. "Yeah, alone. Bit tipsy, so sorry about that."

Our days and nights are perfumed with obsession

He stared silently. Monitoring actions of his girlfriend and having absolutely clear on the mind what to say to her. Part of him wanted to leave the premise immediately. Part of him wanted to scream out his confession. Part of him was astonished that she absolutely did not acknowledge his absence - did she not notice anything? He must have had Y/N scent all over him, punching through the quiet living room. He wanted her to say something. But she just grabbed her workout bag and casually got to the gym. Left him there, bewildered. He wanted to feel guilty, but the lack of emotion from her part was making a really hard thing to follow through. Was he just an asshole? Or someone who forgot to get out of a relationship at the right time and lived in a stale water?

His now fully developed brain decided to jump on the train to the past and he spent his entire morning checking his phone for a text - and not from his girlfriend. For a man who slept about an hour last night, he was surprisingly fresh and energized. Must have been the three orgasms. A lighting of excitement ran through him whenever he came back to those. And there it finally was, his catalysis for a guilt trip.

I am your sweetheart psychopathic crush Drink up your movements, still I can't get enough

Mood swings were the one to rule Y/N's day. She felt like dancing around. Woke up to an empty bed, which was a shame, but it saved from potentially an awkward conversation, so maybe she actually appreciated the gesture. With a lazy day ahead of her, she could replay yesterday's night over and over all day. Rarely would the sun shine so brightly through her window. But - mood does swing. Even though he was the one to cheat, she was the one cursing herself over and over again. Not because she felt any sympathy for his girlfriend, on the contrary, the thought that this girl got to have, what Y/N only experienced for one night, anytime, was infuriating. Fuck any girl power bullshit, she was jealous and angry at herself for crumbling so easily. She had been happy, content, on the lookout for someone available to date for fun and maybe love. Not fucking with her old best friend only to develop a crush so massive her apartment felt small. Y/N was content yesterday morning. This morning, she was satisfied, and anything but content. And yet, she couldn't help but smile into her morning coffee, while trying to remain casual and normal in front of her family.

Blow all my friendships To sit in hell with you

"We need to break up," he found himself saying in the early afternoon. There was no plan from his side, no agenda about getting with Y/N or anything like that. He just had to get out of a relationship where he managed to be the cheater. The decision was suddenly so simple, just hard to execute. There were tears. Not his. Mutual understanding is the hardest thing to fake.

Y/N really tried to go about with her day, having lunch with the family, catching up and just generally free Sunday vibes. Only problem was that she was all over the place mentally - short attention span, distracted and having trouble keeping up with longer conversations. Head over in the clouds, fingers tapping nervously. In some ways, she couldn't wait to get back to he daily life in London filled with work and array of distractions. There was no hope for her in this town. Guilt and desire punching through her own integrity. It was in the late afternoon when disturbing messages appeared under Charles Leclerc tag on socials, which she monitored in every available moment. When she saw her own front door on one of the headline photos, that's when she lost it completely. Panic set in when she finally came to a photo that the two of them talking in front of the bar, with speculative headlines.

But we're the greatest, they'll hang us in the Louvre Down the back, but who cares? Still the Louvre

She sat in her room, tired, confused and lonely. Social media doomscroll it was then, trying to desperately ignore any photos of them. Her brain got stuck in a loop when she stumbled upon a slow piano cover of Mamma Mia. Not particularly her favorite song. But it spoke of everything she couldn't put a name on. Their joined history, the change of course, the inevitable return and the sudden urge to get it right this time. It was like being possessed. She had to act this time. At least let him know that she got it wrong the first time. She had loved him. The feeling was just so common in her life that she didn't recognize it only after it was gone.

Look at me now, will I ever learn I don't know how, but I suddenly lose control There's a fire within my soul

She had to see him and it had to be NOW. Powered by the lyrics praising delusion, she was not going to let it slip through her fingers this time. Not even sure his old number was still active, she called him, only to end up in a voicemail without any message. His private socials were deleted or replaced and she could't just walk over to his flat. His girlfriend would be there and the thought of it broke her heart. Was her current state of mind only make things explosive and worse for everyone?

There had been many times she'd let her chances pass her by.

So I made up my mind, it must come to an end

Only once she was standing before Charles's childhood home, ringing the bell, she realized that zero thought went to what she actually wanted to say to him. Fear hit her hard. Seconds turned into minutes and she realized that nobody was probably home. Heart sank low. What was there to do now? She had no idea where he to find him.

They'd walked together for hours. It felt so intoxicatingly refreshing after all those months of no contact. If one got lucky in life, they'd understand the type of connection that does not go away with time. But there was something different in the air that evening, as if their usual hang out spot, just above the town had a different vibe that day. She looked him in the eye and saw a look she's seen countless of times on his face. There was a shift in her mind and out of nowhere - what if the line got crossed? Would it be such an issue? She knew Charles would never make the first move. What if? Just to know how it feels. Curiosity got the better of her. This was not the first time she glanced at his lips, wondering what they tasted like. But she knew the feelings he might still have for her was something she could not respond to properly. The thought of hurting her best friend was stopping her from ever actually exploring this idea. But, what if? Just this one time.

Thousand of quick thoughts passed through her mind in that one moment - the last few seconds before they kissed for the first time. She was nervous, but it didn't show. Confidently put her hands on his chest, stepped on her toes and put her lips on his. If she was scared, he was borderline terrified. Never expected her to actually do it. Her warm lips touched his own, but he was still trying to process that her hands rested on his chest tenderly. Stiff and shocked seventeen year old boy stood like a rock, trying to catch up with what was just happening. Both of them have had their fair share of kisses and make outs with other people in their life, but this was one different. Somehow, it was harder to kiss someone who actually knew personal things about you. It was no romantic kiss, once Charles finally started to respond, both of them picked up quite a quick tempo and all of that was more close to a drunken teenage make out rather than an honest vulnerable kiss. And still, his soft lips felt really good, her tongue exploring his mouth was sending him to highs unexperienced before. Just as he started to relax and stopped fathoming what was happening, she pulled away. It was all too much, too real and scary for her unsure self. Afraid of loosing her fake confident mask, she had to stop before she lost herself in this. What even was this? She'd be leaving for university soon, so what was the point.

"Sorry," she said immediately and looked anywhere else but his eyes. Stepped back away from him in order to gain more socially acceptable distance. "I dunno, guess I hadn't kissed anyone in a while, so yeah... But this is wrong, sorry for that." There is heartbreak and then there is heartbreak. Charles felt betrayed, she didn't even give him a chance to kiss her properly. He wasn't ready, didn't expect it and now it felt like his one chance got slipped away from him. Once again, he stood there, frozen and processing. She couldn't stand silence. Scary thing to experience in a difficult situation. "I should not have crossed the line, we're really good friends and-" "No," he cut her off, not letting her play this game again. "That's not true and you know that. I never told you in person, which is a really coward move, but that's on me. But you know how I feel. That hasn't changed and I can't imagine it ever will." His words burned like hot sand. "You're right, yes," she replied quickly and wished she could just make herself invisible for a moment. This was all too much to handle. "And that's why I'm saying I'm sorry. I thought ignoring the subject would help you..." "Help me? Help in what, getting over you?" he had to laugh. Where did her delusion end? Was it truly endless? "I don't want that. Definitely not from you. I want you to open your eyes and give us a chance." One thing she couldn't stand was to be pressured to something and this was strongly resembling that. How could someone else try to say what she wanted when she herself wasn't sure?

"Charles, I can't. I need to leave this place and figure out who I am." "Why can't I be a part of that journey?" he said, broken once again. "We would only end up hurting each other and lose our friendship, can't you see that? I want you in my life permanently, so we can't date." "How does any of this make sense in you head," he replied bitterly. While she waved around these big concepts, the one intrusive thought he had was that she was just trying to avoid telling him, that he was just a bad kisser. Her gut was telling her to run away from this. How is one suppose to resist that? "Charles. This whole thing is a mistake. You don't love me and as much as I'd like to, I don't think I love you." The word think punched through Charles like a knife. She wasn't even sure of that... "Well that's it then," he said, knowing the last thing he wanted was to talk her into being with him and have her run to someone else at the first opportunity. He was trying to control the emotional cocktail mixing within him. Trying get his anger, disappointment and wonder lust in check. He tried to read her facial expressions, but the only thing he finally saw was a little girl running away from mature feelings. Suddenly, he understood. She wasn't ready and there was nothing for him to do with that. His job now was to work on his attachment to her, because relying on her was only blocking his own development.

"I think I should get going, big day tomorrow," he lied and waved awkwardly instead of their usual hug. "Yeah, you're right. I'm gonna stay here for a while, if you don't mind," she said and turned her attention to the stunning view on the mountains, sea and the city below them. To Charles, their favorite hang out spot was ruined. Forever the place where his worst kiss happened. His stomach turned at the thought of that and he knew he needed to get out of there and far away from her immediately. "See you when I see you," he said, walking away. She watched him, hoping the weight on her shoulders would disappear quickly. They didn't speak to each other for more than two years after that.

It was hard to believe, she only came to their favorite spot to reminisce about one of her greatest misjudgement and dwell in her sorrow. But, to her luck, he was already there, looking over at the sea as they had countless times together. Walking towards him felt like walking on a tightrope with the chance of falling down getting bigger with every step.

Mamma mia, here I go again My, my, how can I resist you? Mamma mia, does it show again My, my, just how much I've missed you?

Charles didn't come there to meet up with her. His intention was to run away, to clear his thoughts, come to terms with the fact he had just cheated on someone. Take in the feeling Y/N made him burn with last night. Like some sort of breakthrough - this was they were all singing about. This is why people were able to drop their while life and follow love. It was an old and new love at the same. And that created a complete mess in his head. But when saw a figure coming his way, he knew immediately that she chose this place as well. Charles hadn't been at their spot since the time they first kissed here. Unlike Y/N, who came here anytime she was back in Monaco. She truly didn't expect him to be here - but took it as a sign that there was no way but forward for her. She walked towards him and sat on next to him, joining the view he was getting lost in. No words were shared for the first minute.

Y/N found out only after her university years that physical communication was her way of expressing feelings. Words were a little too messy and hard to put together. So she reached over to gently put her hand over his. She felt him shake a little, but he kept his hand below hers. Which she took as a good sign. Charles was the one to break the silence. "I hope you won't have much trouble online. There are pictures of us circling around," he said bluntly. "I have a very average face, I think I'm good." Charles laughed at her response. "As if." She really wanted not to ask. But the words just slipped out of her tongue. "Will your girlfriend mind?" And immediately after that, she wanted to shoot herself.

Charles took a deep breath. Then smiled bitterly, because what else was there to do. "Do you think so low of me that I could stay with someone once I'd cheated on them?" "Every couple goes through a crisis..." Charles chuckled again. "Have you ever been cheated on?" "Yes," she did not have to think twice about that. "But strangely enough, it was a relief when it finally happened." "See, so you understand." They sat in silence again. There was a feeling in the air like rain was coming. Neither of them moved. "Are you sad about it? Do you regret it?" She took Charles of guard. "Look at you, asking the big questions. What happened to you?" "Grew up, you know. You're not the only one. But don't get me wrong...it's still very hard. Talking." "I can see that," he replied, somewhat amused by her red cheeks. "To answer your important question," he highlighted, making her feel like a school girl passing a test, "I guess I regret the fact I wasn't honest enough to myself before something like that has happened." Y/N got a sudden influx of insecurity. Could it be that he was just unhappy in his relationship and it wasn't about the two of them? She pulled away a bit. Charles picked up on that. But this time, he couldn't put himself on the line first again. Not after what she said all those years ago. "Regret is the worst feeling. I think." "Why would you think?" "It's really hard to get rid of it. It lingers. Stays on." "Is there something you regret?" Somehow, he knew the answer before she did. "Of course. Everyone does." "You're avoiding again." "I know. I am perfectly aware of that." "At least something has changed."

The mood shifted and there was no way back. Charles was about to push like he had never done before. "Y/N. Why did you come here tonight. And be clear, blunt and honest or just leave now. It's been confusing enough even without you." She did not expect him to talk to openly. But she came searching for him, to do the leap, so it was actually appreciated. She started speaking, very slowly. "Um. I was looking for you. Wanted to say...not sure what exactly, but...I guess to let you know that I'd changed my mind. And I understand, you're somewhere else in your life now. But I need you to know." One very impatient Charles spoke when she took a break to breathe. "Know what?" "Charles, you keep interrupting me! Let me just...you know." He nodded in understanding, amused by her giddiness. "I just need to say...When were young, I never realized that the connection we have is special and rare. Stupid as I was, I thought it was just normal and common. And I don't regret not dating you back then. I had to take some time to grow up and understand more about the world. But now I do - and even if you've moved on, I feel like I'm just about to get on this train." He took in everything she said carefully. Tried not to get to ahead of himself.

"Did you ever think of me? Or it this just because last night." This time, it was she who smiled with a sad undertone. Did she ever think of him? Her? Had she spent nights and more nights wishing he'd call? Had she walked aimlessly around Monaco just to run into him? Did she compare every guy she shared a bed with to the times Charles made her feel like she was the only one on this planet that he could see? "One would say it's alarming how often I come back to the days we spent together. How hard it is to be so raw with someone in the same way as I was with you." Charles was slightly overwhelmed by her words. "Look, Charlie, I don't want to put any pressure on you. I had many chances and blew them all. I get it. Just want you to know that this was not a random encounter with an old friend for me." She'd been so focused on the right words coming out, that she missed the moment when Charles got close to her, so his kiss that followed was a surprise to her. Soft and sweet lips touched hers and it was like a release from prison. This time, it felt so right and safe. She didn't want him to end this. But once he inevitably did, fear came in like an unexpected summer storm. Would he be as cruel as she had been back then? Sharing a kiss with her while knowing that he was going to break her heart?

He took a breath in order to speak again. She stopped him with her finger. For just a minute, she wanted to keep this moment intact. To have this possibility of him still having a trace of the love he once had and she now bared as well. "Charles, I know what you're going to say. I can taste the words in your mouth. Please, don't." "So tell me, what am I going to say?" She sighed, slightly annoyed with him pushing her. "You're going to say that you'd moved on and this was just to have some fun. And you know what? Maybe it really is for the better, it was never-" "And this time, I am really going to stop you," he said, staring deeply into her eyes. "It's even harder now that we're adults. I understand that, understand the hardship my lifestyle can bring to the ones closest to me...My love for you never left. Yes, it's way less destructive and I've come to peace with it. But I am also not a scared boy anymore. Y/N, I would like to see you again and not as a friend. I don't think you ever were my friend. But you need to brave and honest too this time. Are you ready for that?" "I want to have all the hardest conversations with you, even if that's all we'd be doing," she laughed, taking in the fact he did not reject her. "I sincerely hope we'll be doing more than that," he said and joined her in easing the tension. "Is this really happening?" she whispered, as if it was a dream. "Yes, I believe it really is."

Mamma mia, here I go again My, my, how can I resist you?

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@linnmee @itsjustkhaos @rhythmstars @blueflorals @janeholt3

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc x you #song fic #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc x female reader #ferrari f1 #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 smut #best friends to lovers #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fluff #f1 fluff #charles leclerc x y/n #f1 fanfic #formula one x reader #friends to lovers

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findmeintheferns · 2 years ago

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your bestfriend’s roommate

(part one)

𝓢𝓾𝓶𝓶𝓪𝓻𝔂: you’ve had the same plug for years, but he wasn’t replying & you were desperate. your bestfriend had been wanting you to switch to her roommate for ages so fuck it. problem is though, you weren’t expecting her to be this attractive…

𝓦𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰: a lil bit of smut, drug use (weed), slowish burn, kinda boring sorry lol writers block

𝓦𝓸𝓻𝓭 𝓬𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓽: 2.2 k

𝓟𝓪𝓲𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰: dealer ellie williams (TLOU) x reader (y/n)

You stare down at your phone for the 100th time only to once again get met with a blank screen. It had been 5 whole hours yet still nothing. You tried not to let it bother you but at this point you were well and truly feeling impatient. You groan, flipping the phone over so you can no longer fixate on it.

Dina notices your frustration, “I’ve told you so many times that my friend is a way better plug, she replies almost instantly. Plus, she’s in my dorm, you can visit me & stock up at the same time.”

You’ve heard this spiel before, but you weren’t sold on it. You liked having a dealer that was strictly business, you’ve never been one to want to stay and chat, you just want to get your weed so you can go home & get high as soon as possible. Plus, you’ve had the same dealer for over 2 years now, going to someone else would be like a betrayal.

You go to reply but Dina beats you to it,

“Yeah, yeah I know. You guys have an unbreakable bond or whatever.”

You give her a small smile, “I mean hey if he doesn’t reply in the next hour, I might get desperate. I told Alex we could smoke & get ice-cream tonight.”

Dina lets out a snort, “Oof yeah, you’ll definitely be needing the weed if you’re spending the night hanging out with him.”

You roll your eyes, not wanting to reply to her snarky comment. You had nearly been dating for nearly a year, but she still hated him. She never really liked him in the first place, she says ‘his vibe is off’, whatever that means. After a little incident with his best friend Mia however, her dislike turned to hatred. Nothing bad even happened, you overreacted. They hung out, you weren’t aware, and you walked in on them hugging. You got upset at first yeah, but he reassured you that it meant nothing, that she was having a bad day and it was just a simple hug. You believe him, so that’s that.

Dina grabs your phone from off the table, distracting you from your thoughts.

“Just let me put her number in your contacts in case okay? Her name’s Ellie.”

“Fineeeee. I need to go anyway. If I don’t study for this exam I’m screwed, I slept through like half of the lectures.” You sigh, stressed about all the content you have to somehow remember over the span of a few days.

Dina pulls you into a hug, “You’re terrible. Good luck with that, I love you dumbass.”

You pull away and laugh at your brutally honest friend as she begins to walk away, “Yeah, yeah, I love you too I guess.”

You grab your bag, placing a tip under your now empty coffee cup before leaving the little café.

You stare at the clock, it’s an hour before you’re meant to meet Alex and your dealer still hasn’t replied.

“Ughhhhhhh. Whatever. Fine. Fuck it.” you murmur, pulling out your phone.

You really didn’t feel like texting a new dealer, you’re pretty introverted already and it seemed like a lot of effort. But what were you supposed to do.

You unlock your phone and open contacts, Ellie’s profile popping up straight away. You send a short text, introducing yourself as Dina’s friend and asking if she had anything to sell tonight, you weren’t in a place to be picky.

To your surprise it was only 5 minutes before you received a reply. Her response was short too;

ellie: yeah, i’ve got a bunch. do you want to come here & pick up? that way you can decide what you want

y/n: oh okay, sure. what time?

ellie: now?

y/n: okay. see u in 5.

ellie: you know where to find me

You did appreciate that she didn’t drag out the conversation, but you were still nervous about meeting someone new. Dina’s dorm room is only a short walk from yours which you couldn’t lie, was pretty convenient if Ellie did become your new dealer. Once you arrive at the door you stop for a moment and take a deep breath in, hoping the conversation would be as short as it always was with your normal dealer. If only Dina was here to make things less awkward, but she had volleyball on tonight.

You knock and the door opens instantly. Suddenly your whole body completely stiffens as your eyes meet the girl opening the door. You know you should be speaking right now, but you’re weren’t mentally prepared for this. She looked absolutely nothing like you had imagined. You don’t know why but you kinda assumed she’d be on the gross & dodgy side. She was in fact the complete opposite. She was wearing baggy grey sweatpants and a tank top that hugged her body. Her short brown hair was half tied up in a little knot, her fringe falling over her face. She must of been getting ready for bed. You really wish Dina had gone into more detail when describing her, you weren’t prepared for her to be this…well, attractive, for lack of better words.

“Y/n? You here to pick up yeah?” Ellie’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts.

“Hey, yeah, sorry. Yes I am” you quickly respond, kinda embarrassed about the pause.

“All good, come in and I’ll get you what you need. Sorry about the mess.”

You walk inside the dorm, you had been in there before obviously, but not while Ellie was there. You never even really payed attention to her side of the room yet now you can’t take your eyes off it.

“So, what are you after? I’ll see if I have some.” Ellie asks

“Honestly I don’t mind. Whatever’s your favourite at the moment”

You don’t want to drag this out, you need to head to Alex’s soon and you already feel awkward from the previous interaction.

“Hmmm. Probably blue dream then, it’s mostly Sativa. Really helps with relaxing.”

You shrug “I trust you.”

She puts your weed into a small ziplock baggie and you pay. You quickly try and say goodbye as you walk towards the door but she stops you

“Yeah you’re gonna have to stay at least for a little longer.”

Confused, you stare at her blankly, “Umm, why?”

She returns your glare, “Have you never picked up before or something?”

This kinda offends you and you don’t really know why.

“Yes I have. For your information my dealer just isn’t responding tonight. This is a one off.”

Ellie scoffs, “Huh, lemme guess. Derek is your dealer?”

This takes you back for a moment,

“Yeah… how do you know that?”

She laughs, relaxing her stance and moving to lean back onto her bed.

“Makes sense why you don’t know pick up etiquette. You need to stay here for a little so it doesn’t look sus. Otherwise cops will catch on, just like with your friend Derek. He was lazy and now he’s screwed. You definitely won’t be hearing from him for a while.”

Great. Well that makes sense why he wasn’t responding. You sigh and flop down onto Dina’s bed, staring up at the roof. You really don’t feel like staying here for any longer.

“Aww, am I that terrible to hang out with?”

You roll your head to stare at her, but she’s already looking at you. You wonder what she’s thinking.

“It’s not that” You lie, because it kinda is. “I’m just meant to be meeting up with Alex right now”

She laughs to herself again, “Oh that’s right, Alex, your boyfriend.”

“What’s funny about that? How do you even know that?” you retort, pissed off at this point.

“No, no, nothing. Dina told me is all.” She smiles

You sit up, ready to leave, “Right, well, I need to go. Thanks for the weed.”

You move towards the door but once again Ellie stops you before you can open it.

“Hey, I’m sorry” She says softly “I didn’t meant to upset you, stay a little longer and have a joint.”

The way she’s looking at you makes your stomach churn, but not in a bad way. There’s something so endearing about her, even when she’s pissing you off.

“I really should go, I’ll be late” You respond, trying to not be tempted by the offer.

“It’s on me, just because I annoyed you” she smirks.

You know you should decline, but it’s a lot harder than it would seem.

“Fine. One joint”

So, you didn’t just have one joint, you both shared quite a few. You weren’t sure if it was just the weed that made being around Ellie more manageable, but you were actually having fun. You unintentionally lost track of time, talking about anything and everything. Ellie told you all about her Astronomy major and her favourite astronaut, Sally Ride. You told her about how much you hated math and your inability to focus during lectures. You had moved closer together so that you were both laying down, squished on the same bed staring at the roof. Ellie turned her head to face yours,

“You look pretty stoned” she whispered, a big grin on her face.

She was so close to you it made you nervous, but also kinda excited. She looked incredibly attractive, you kept trying to deny it, but you couldn’t help it. The way she held herself, the way she spoke, her looks, all of it was pulling you in even though you knew it shouldn’t.

You giggled, wanting to reply with a snarky comment but being too high to think of one. You went to take the joint from her, but got distracted by the tattoo on her arm. It was pretty big, it was some sort of moth and a fern. You followed it down until it ended, stopping at her hand. You intertwined your fingers with hers, lifting it up so you could get a better look.

“What?” she laughed, confused as to what you were trying to do.

You didn’t think, you just spoke, “You have really attractive hands Ellie”

For a moment she looked taken back by your comment, but she was too high too overthink it. She moved so that her body was on top of yours, your hands still connected. You felt yourself getting wet, too horny to think about the consequences of what was happening right now. She grinded her thigh into your pussy causing your eyes to roll back as you let out a soft moan. She leaned down and pushed your hair behind your ear.

“Oh yeah?” she whispered, replying to your previous statement “You should see what they can d-“

Ellie was cut off by the sound of ringing. Fuck. You jerk up, grabbing your phone. Surely enough, it was Alex calling. What had you done.

“Fuck, fuck-fuck-fuck” you mumble under your breath, picking up the phone call.

Alex: “Y/n? You okay?”

Y/n: “Alex I’m so sorry I was studying and I must have fallen asleep.”

Alex: “Ah, no weed then?”

Y/n: “No weed, I’m sorry. Rain check?”

Alex: “All good, love you.”

Y/n: “Love you.”

You felt incredibly guilty, probably the most guilty you’ve ever felt in your life. How could you lose track of time like that? How could you act on impulse like that?

Ellie broke you out of your train of thought “Shit. I don’t even know how that happened. Y/n? Are you okay? Fuck I’m sorry.”

You knew you had to leave before you made an even more regrettable decision. Quickly grabbing your stuff you began to walk to the door,

“All good. I need to go. Thanks, erm, for the weed”

Ellie tries to say something else but it’s too late, you are out of the dorm in no time, almost sprinting back to your room.

That night you got barely any sleep, mad at yourself for taking things so far. You knew it was wrong, so why did you feel yourself wanting more.

#ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams #wlw smut #smut #the last of us hbo #the last of us #wlw #fanfic

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oneknightstand-if · 3 months ago

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I've seen lots of people mention this already but the sheer amount of variation in your game is absolutely insane, you have to account for so much, how you're able to keep track of everything is beyond me. Not to mention the ROs and their routes, 5 possible dispositions towards each RO? Amazing. Possessed route and sabotage, besides normal routes with their own tons of variations and mute and cloudcuckoo text flavor. Fears and vices, mc backgrounds. Simply amazing that one person can do this much work and in such a short span of time. Great job!! 👏 I also keep seeing some people ask you to write the book club route despite you saying that you're tired of that chapter, and as much as I'd like to play it as well, please, don't feel pressured to do so anytime soon, just keep working on what you want and know that the majority of us players don't want authors to burn out, we can wait! No need to reply to this, just wanted to say how impressed I am as well. Take care!!

Thanks for the comments! Yeah, all the variations are very time consuming, and while I have a pretty detail-oriented brain, inevitably I'll ultimately screw up some coding here or there or forget to cover a particular version, but hopefully all of that will be caught during the beta testing process.

Otherwise, thanks for understanding about the Book Club. I went ahead and added a question regarding Book Club updates to the FAQ and so will no longer be responding to any further update requests regarding that either here or on the CoG forums.

#oks-asks #oks-logistics

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v1leblood · 2 years ago

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Sincere question: I remember you talking about retcons to Amy's character in Ward at one point. As someone who also basically despises what was done to that character in that story, I'm curious as to which specific retcons you mean? Was it that she was made into a *literal* rapist on top of all the other stuff, or was it a different thing? Apologies if this brings a maelstrom of Ward discourse your way, I'm just interested in your take.

cw: rape

I was going to write a longer and more thorough reply to this, but wanting to do that has kept me from actually Answering It, so i'm going to forego being thorough and not let it sit in my inbox til next week

the long and short of it is that amy as she's depicted in ward has very, very little resemblance to the amy we see at the end of worm -- and the contrast is intense, because the reader spends a cool 4 arcs with post-birdcage amy during the events of gold morning. i don't have specific citations to pull because i'm Not being thorough, but like... open any chapter after arc 25 where amy appears and it should be pretty obvious.

then there's also the fact that the wretch incident (which was unto itself a horrible, traumatizing violation of bodily autonomy) wasn't written to be Literal rape, despite later insistence in wog that this is the case.

...because wildbow of Back Then said he wouldn't be including any form of sexual assault in the text of worm

I mean, maybe he changed his mind within the span of six months (time between this post and the carol interlude), but... that's not great for credibility, either.

and if we run with the assumption that amy Was a (literal, not just figurative or allegorical) rapist throughout the entire run of worm, then it's just... extraordinarily strange that we spend So Much Time with her over the course of the book, including after she goes to the birdcage -- where we get continuous glimpses into how she's coping, growing and otherwise developing -- And in the finale, where she's framed as having changed for the better and being more grounded than our protagonist is

ward is a huge change to the direction her character seemed to have headed and reads as an overcorrection borne of the post-worm fandom being incredibly nasty towards victoria and too charitable and whitewashy about amy. wildbow said that he wasn't taking fandom reactions and junk into consideration when writing ward, but he also made a point of explicitly describing number man's boring trousers after the joke about him having his dick out got big, so... yeah

so the answer is like. when talking about retcons i'm talking about both of the thing? amy changed a lot insofar as Who She Is and What She Does in ward and the rape thing is contradictory, unnecessary, and really just a big mess

other amy posts that touch on similar topics and i broadly agree with here and here (rip brockton-breakers you are missed). there are others out there i think but i'm too lazy to look them up, sorry!

#parahumans #amy dallon #asks

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hopeswriting · 4 months ago

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Not the same anon as before but I have a question about Sephira and Luce. Would Sephira becoming the Sky arcobaleno not defeat the whole purpose of the pacifiers being made? Kawahira states they were made because the earthlings could not maintain the balance themselves anymore. I know people in her family eventually became cursed but it doesn’t seem like she is? In that picture you show her being normal sized and not a baby too.

My question for Luce is that I swear we see her become cursed on the mountain and become a baby. Why did she become a baby if she got the curse from her mom but not Aria or Uni? Why did she bother going to the mountain? To keep up appearances?

I hope all the questions are okay. These are questions I’ve always wondered and you seem knowledgeable

[in reference to this ask]

hi nonny, thank you for the ask!

yeah we're all good with all your questions, no worries haha. to answer them in order, i do get why you'd think that about sepira. like you said, as the numbers of earthlings started decreasing, eventually they weren't enough of them left anymore to be able to keep sustaining the seven stones that was originally the trinisette by themselves. so they took some of the stones and broke them down into seven more parts (the pacifiers), so they could use the help of humans to keep sustaining it.

but it still doesn't change the fact that it's their duty to look after the trinisette, right? and as earthlings, they're the ones most suited to do it and likely can do it the more safely/longer/while feeling minimum side effects from it. so i can see sepira ending up with the sky pacifier/choosing to become its bearer as her caring to keep doing her duty for as long as she can, but also as some kind of safeguarding of some sort. because like, humans weren't supposed to be the ones to look after the trinisette nor are they naturally suited for it. and the sky pacifier being a particularly important part of the trinisette, they choose one of them to be its bearer, give the six other pacifiers to humans, and keep looking after the remaining stones themselves. (because remember, but at this point there's still five earthlings left, including kawahira and sepira.)

and yes, sepira isn't a baby in that panel, but it's because none of the sky arco are ever turned into babies! i know in the anime luce is shown being turned into a baby, but it's during the arco filler arc so, you know, it's not canon. and even in the manga there's some cover pages where amano drew her as a baby too, but i really think it's just for aesthetic purposes so she doesn't stand out from the rest of the arco she's drawn alongside with. because as far as the manga in and of itself says, in the rainbow arc byakuran explicitly says the sky arco aren't turned into babies, but in exchange their particular curse takes the form of a short lifespan.

[ID copied from alt-text: Panels from the manga Katekyo Hitman Reborn. Byakuran says, "The Arcobaleno of the Sky's curse is different from all the other Arcobaleno's curses... Their forms can't be changed. Luce, Aria, and Yuni... All of them are connected with the same... short life-span. /End ID]

as for the way luce ended up cursed compared to aria and uni, bermuda explains to reborn and tsuna that kawahira chooses/curses the arco through two different methods. i'm not gonna put all the relevant panels because it's basically the whole of chapter 386 lol, but yeah, here:

[ID copied from alt-text: Other panels from the manga. Bermuda says, "A passing on to the next generation is set up. Sometimes as a contracted job, sometimes as a representative war. These two things happen once, spread out far apart in a cycle so that it doesn't remain in people's memories. The Rainbow Representative War and the Fated Day." /End ID]

so basically, kawahira either gathers the next generation of arco under the guise of gathering the seven strongest, giving them missions so they can prove themselves worthy of the title, until eventually he gives them a last mission to gather them together so he can curse them. or he baits them with the possibility of earning their freedom from the curse by winning the representative war, making them (which is so sick of him now i think about it actually) gather the current strongest of the next generation so he can choose among them who are the most suitable to become the next arco.

so luce ending up cursed through the fated day is because by then, the cycle of choosing/cursing the next arco was just back to happen through the fated day. and meanwhile aria and uni inherited it from their respective mother, because the sky arco's curse is a short lifespan, and so there's the need of multiple sky arco for one generation of arco until the time to choose the next generation of arco altogether comes around again. or at least, that's how i personally make sense of the arco lore haha.

hopefully i managed to clear things up for you some nonny!

#katekyo hitman reborn #khr #khr ask #khr meta #khr headcanon #khr luce #sky arcobaleno #arcobaleno curse #khr arcobaleno #image id #anonymous

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humaforever · 2 years ago

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Huma relationship Questions

1. Acts like they’re dying when they have a cold.

Harry of course. He just knows that his dramatics will get Uma's attention. He doesn't really care if that's not always a good thing.

2. Gets mad at the TV.

Uma, because people are dumb. She can't stand stupidity.

3. Gets the worst road rage.

Uma does most of the driving, but probably Harry because he will blame all his mistakes on the drivers around him. It's simply easier that way, especially when he's explaining himself to Uma. Just blame everyone else and don't take the fault for anything.

4. What do their text messages look like?

Probably something like this-

5. Packs the whole closet for an overnight trip.

Harry would for sure do this. He can't look imperfect, c'mon! He would probably even pack some of Uma's clothes, for her but also, mostly for himself.

6. Hates the in-laws.

Harry def hates Ursula more than Uma hates James Hook. But let's not make it a competition.

7. Hits the snooze button…11 times.

Both, but probably Uma more so. She likes sleep okay! Who doesn't?

8. Makes the other late for work.

Harry. He needs the kisses and cuddles and it would be rude of Uma to deny him of that. But also Harry will make himself late for work because he can't bear to leave Uma.

9. Who wants multiple kids

I feel like Uma doesn't like the thought of kids just because she's scared that she'll hurt her kids. But I think they'd eventually have kids. Harry probably wants multiple just because he loves his siblings a lot.

10. Takes in the stray dog.

Uma, cuz she's a softy

11. Suggests a 3am trip to McDonald’s.

Uma would suggest it but Harry would encourage it with every fiber of his being and be so excited to go on a date at 3am

12. Who takes longer to get ready

Harry. We all know this.

13. Can’t make up their mind when it comes to dinner.

Probably Uma, I feel like Harry is just down for whatever.

14. Needs to be reminded of all their appointments.

Harry. He has a short attention span and his mind wanders.

15. Bribes the other into doing chores.

I feel like this is kinda canonically Harry right? Like he has no chores on the Lost Revenge in Uma's book. But then again I think he's a hard worker so neither maybe.

16. Picks the movies.

They take turns picking the movie

17. Takes the safety steps when building a pillow fort.

Not the safety steps but Uma is very strategic about how she builds her fort

18. Kisses the other’s injuries better.

Harry. It makes Uma smile and he loves having the extra reason to kiss her

20. Kills the spiders.

Harry's scared of spiders so Uma takes them outside. She'll kill a person but not a spider.

21. Hogs the blankets.

UMA! Girlie needs all the blankets

22. Takes pranks too far.

They don't do pranks. Mal took a 'prank' too far and they were both traumatized from it

23. Makes the dirty jokes.

Harry makes dirty jokes at inappropriate times. He just likes to let the whore in him loose sometimes

24. Keeps a piggy bank.

Harry, it's good for him to keep track of his finances. Plus he has a cool octopus one that reminds him of Uma

25. Has no problem having ice cream for breakfast.

Yeah neither of them care what they eat for breakfast. They were robbed of all the good foods, they don't follow social standards

26. Gets a tattoo when they’re drunk.

Harry's probably done it more times but it's a close race.

#huma #harry hook #uma #it's all true

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cryptidsurveys · 25 days ago

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Thursday, October 17th, 2024.

Do you know anybody who is ambidextrous? My sibling was somewhat ambidextrous when it came to sports, but I think they were otherwise predominantly lefthanded.

Have you ever been 4-wheeling? I haven't, but it sounds like a fun time.

What’s the weather been like today? Cloudy and breezy and currently 75*F. Ideal weather for hiking at the Mountain Park. The leaves are really starting to change now, and I felt fully immersed in the autumn spirit.

What was the last exam you sat for? I'm not sure.

Will you be attending any weddings in the near future? No.

Do you currently have any unread text messages, and who from? I have a technically unread message from Oliver on Instagram, but I already know what it says because it popped up on my phone notifications.

Speaking of text messages, what colour is your cell phone? Black.

Do you live anywhere near the woods? We live a couple of blocks away from the Fountain Creek, which does have some woodsy areas, but I don't think I would call it "the woods."

Would you ever consider a career in the tourism industry? No.

Do you have any important anniversaries you celebrate? There aren't any that I celebrate, but speaking of anniversaries, today marks one year since I started driving again.

When was the last time you used q-tips? I have no idea.

How does your hair react to humid weather or rain? It doesn't. Even when I had longer hair, I didn't notice any reaction.

What’s your favourite flavour of iced tea? Just plain ol' regular iced tea is fine with me.

Do you understand music theory? No. Well, that is to say, I've never learned about it. I might understand it just fine if I cared to.

How many hours of sleep did you get last night? Somewhere between 8-9 hours.

Are you expected to act professionally at your job? I'm not employed at the animal shelter, but I am "basically staff" at this point. I'm not expected to behave super professionally around my immediate coworkers (in fact, there are times when we can get downright ridiculous), but with most of the rest of the staff/management, I try to maintain a fairly professional standard.

Infomercials: entertaining or stupid? They were my source of late-night sanity during my late teens/very early 20s when I couldn't sleep and nothing else was on TV.

What’s your favourite brand of energy drink? I don't have one.

Do you have (or have you ever had) acne? Yeah. My skin is looking pretty good lately, though. I swear it's that new lotion I bought. It's made a remarkable difference in such a short time span.

When was the last time you got pins-and-needles? A few weeks ago, I noticed that my hands were ever so slightly tingly. At the time, for lack of a better explanation, I figured it could be anxiety-related. However, things have calmed down significantly since then, yet the feeling still persists. Now my best guess is the way I rest my forearms on the edge of the computer desk while typing - which I just noticed thanks to this question. So, thank you, lmao. You may have just solved this mystery. ;D

Why did you click to take this survey? It's one I haven't taken before, and the questions looked interesting enough. It's also a good length; something I can finish before having my afternoon snack.

If you have glasses, have you ever smashed them? No.

How do you get new music? Buy or download or what? I don't buy or download music. If I want to listen to something, then I just use YouTube.

Have you ever sent someone an abusive text message? Yeah.

Do you require a lot of time to do things or are you quick? It depends on what it is. It takes me a while to read a book or fill out surveys (always pondering/getting nostalgic/etc), but I'm fairly quick when it comes to housecleaning or tasks at the animal shelter (unless we have more than adequate staff - then I tend to replace efficiency with attention to detail because I know I have the extra time to do so).

What will be the next concert you attend? Concerts aren't really my thing.

Turn the nearest television on, what’s on? I doubt the nearest television even works anymore. It's the one in the living room and it hasn't been turned on for years now.

How often do you “wake up on the wrong side of the bed”? As in grumpy? Almost never. But exhausted and a bit sad? Almost always.

Can you rap? Naw.

What do you usually order when you’re at McDonald’s? I don't have a usual order, but if I was to order something now, it would most likely be something Halloween-themed.

Are there any textbooks near where you are right now? No.

What’s the time? 2:43pm.

Do you know how to use a DSLR camera? I've never used one before.

How’s your body temperature right now? My hands are a bit cold, but the rest of me is comfortable.

Do you use Celsius or Fahrenheit? Fahrenheit.

What was the last thing you got a really good deal on? I'm not sure.

Have you ever studied any ancient societies? Not seriously, like not on a scholarly level or anything like that, but I love learning about ancient history, so…!

Do you like to wear long, dangling earrings? No. My ears aren't pierced.

What was the last reason you took medicine? Oncoming migraine.

Do you exercise regularly? I get a fair bit of exercise at the shelter because I'm on my feet for most of the day, but as for deliberate/specific exercise, no.

What is your coffee of choice? (flat white, cappuccino, etc.) If I'm ordering it from somewhere, then probably a cappuccino or macchiato. At home, either black or with almond milk + creamer.

Do you pay any attention to your country’s politics? A bit.

Are you feeling worried about anything right now? I'm not worried about anything related to the near future.

Are you a gossipy type of person? Sometimes.

When will your next meal be, and do you know what it will consist of? Dinner, and it will most likely be a chicken salad.

Tell me about the sickest you’ve ever felt. Probably the flu I had in late 2016.

What’s your opinion on your in-laws, if you have any? I don't have any in-laws. My sibling does have a partner (not married), but I've never met them.

Do you make excuses often, or do you just get things done? I've started making more excuses when it comes to housecleaning. I'm tired. I'm busy. If I do that, then I won't have time to do this, etc. Aside from that, I tend to just get things done.

Have you seen your best friend today? We chatted briefly over IG.

What can you smell right now? Nothing in particular.

Any important birthdays coming up? No.

Fireworks: yay or nay? I am fully aware of the reasons why they're awful, but since I can't stop them, I just enjoy them.

Do you have any plans for the rest of the day? Nothing much. Just the usual activities, plus finishing up the rest of the most recent Belief Hole podcast.

How about tomorrow? Any plans? I'll be at the animal shelter all day.

Do you know how to do your own laundry or does someone else do it? I do it.

If you could eat or drink anything right now, what would it be? I'm going to make a fruit and yogurt bowl after I finish with this survey.

What colour are your headphones? Black.

Think of the last long car trip you had, where did you go? I'm not sure.

Do you have a Twitter account that you use regularly? No.

Have you ever seen a horseshoe crab? They’re scary, right?! Only in pictures/videos.

What was the last movie you saw at the theatres? Wild Robot.

Are there any new movies that you’d really like to see? Wicked.

If you could play one instrument flawlessly, what would it be? Guitar or harp.

Do you overthink a lot of things? Unfortunately. I wonder what it's like to not overthink everything to death.

Is there anybody you miss but can’t see again? Yeah.

#survey #surveys #personal survey #survey blog #random survey

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grape-jelly-lite · 10 months ago

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Creation is not ethical or moral. It is human.

feeling so much angst about this.

a friend of mine loves John Fahey and showed me how to play part of Sligo River Blues. obviously i want to learn the whole song and search up the tab online, and hit the jackpot with a scanned copy of an official tab book for his top hits (i'm also a fan of Sunflower River Blues). he's got a nifty introduction with cool typesetting and the headings are great: "HOMOSEXUAL GUITAR PLAYING", "GUITAR ANGST", like yeah i fuck with that.

and then he drops a passage comparing guitars to women and bad-guitar playing to homosexuality (the inability to "handle" a woman) and homosexuals to nazis and the drivel he spouts makes you remember he grew up in the deep racist southern america and you feel a little bit disappointed.

the parts under question (text under cut):

[text id: HOMOSEXUAL GUITAR PLAYING | You must play until you are no longer afraid of the guitar. Many players are afraid to touch the guitar, and they will act like it. You must create an intimate relationship with your guitar. Getting over your fear of it is much like a romantic-sexual conquest. It is no mere poetic metaphor when some songs refer to a guitar as though it were a woman. Mastering a guitar is really very similar to conquering a woman, and when you fail to master it, like when you fail to master a woman, you have the same feelings of humiliation and violence.]

[text id: GUITAR ANGST | Those who fear their guitars are essentially cowardly faggots who have allowed themselves to be conquered by perverse tendencies. They are unable to sit anywhere for six hours under any circumstances. Their span of attention is short, but what is much worse is that they don't care. They don't even care to learn how to lengthen it. They have constituted themselves essentially as hatred, opposition–pure negativity. They are not feminine men. Homosexual guitar playing is an imitative gesture of the non-essential (i.e. temporary) characteristics of women–bitchiness, frivolity, flightiness, and super-sensitivity. These superficial characteristics are not the essence of the feminine. Look at the homosexual guitarist pick up the guitar–he is afraid to touch it. He is afraid of it. He thinks it hates him because he hates it so much. He has constituted his spirit against–he is against life. He is a Nazi. His politics are against freedom. He is a totalitarian at heart, but he has no power. He must overcome his fear of the guitar. And he can. The guitar must be his secret love, narcotic, whatever image he prefers. But, he cannot forget to abuse it also, to learn to bang in it and to make a percussion instrument of it, to play hard on it, and bend it to his will.]

I think we need to get more comfortable with the idea that sometimes shitty, racist, homophobic, bigoted people are still incredibly talented.

I feel like every time I see a post addressing someone’s shitty behavior the post also takes the time to mention that they’re not even good at [x] anyway. And that’s just not always true? Equating being good at a skill as being morally good is just not necessary. Someone can be a fantastic writer, can have a beautiful singing voice, can create breathtaking artwork, and still be a horrible person.

I know part of this is probably just the instinct to dislike everything about a person when you dislike them, but I also think this mindset leads to people defending creatives way past where they should, because if bad people create bad art, then if this person creates art that I like and resonates with me, then they can’t be a bad person!

And you know. That’s just not true. Those two things are simply completely unconnected and I think it’d be healthier if we all started disconnecting them in our heads.

#grape rambles #sounds like fahey is a wee bit afraid of women himself #gonna be the best homosexual guitar player out there #gonna love and treat my guitar with the love and respect it deserves #using my feminine frivolity and flightiness to fuck out of your orbit

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cryo-regalia · 2 years ago

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ahri / evelynn + not saying “i love you too”

characters: all out ahri, all out evelynn.

— themes: fluff, sfw + very suggestive (evelynn), gender neutral reader.

— note : there’s no 4kidz-ing our way out of this one, evelynn. but yeah, i was gonna do all of kda but then i got tired and didn’t want to work on this anymore LMAO

“When I get back we can spend as much time as you’d like together.”

AHRI’S WORD TOOK THE FORM OF A SMOOTH PROMISE that had you incapable of looking away from where she stood across room, not that you would want to. It was one she had yet to break and you doubted she ever would if the span of time since the two of you met had anything to say about it. Hidden within it was a small apology that you only picked up on because you knew her well enough to hear it, but if you knew her any less then you would have surely missed it. She shrugged one of her many luxury jackets on over her shoulders as she spoke, pulling pink-tipped hair from beneath it with a simple flick of a manicured hand and letting it cascade down her back.

Brilliant blue eyes outlined by sleek eyeliner and a modest amount of sparkles peered behind her to hold your gaze captive through strands of blonde. It was a shame that she’d have to hide her makeup behind cute sunglasses after she spent an appalling amount of time perfecting each line and swipe of her brush and dab of her egg-shaped sponge, but it wasn’t a thought you lingered on for long. Her heels clicked against the tiles and became louder the closer she got with each steady and practiced step, taking long but patient strides across the room until she was right behind where you sat. Her arms slithered over your shoulders until they knit together over your chest and you could practically feel her lipstick staining your skin with each kiss pressed to your cheeks.

You were sure the position wasn’t comfortable by any means, but she didn’t say anything about it nor did her face betray her if it was digging painfully into her torso. You could feel her vibrate against your back in the form of a rumbling purr resonated through one ear, a light breeze brushing against the back of your legs from what you suspected to be her tails wagging. The instinct to turn your head away had ceased sometime ago (when specifically, you weren’t sure) and instead was replaced with a smile, but it didn’t fail to ignite a comforting warmth deep within your stomach that reminded you of many things: I’m yours. You mean everything to me. I love you.

You weren’t sure how long you two stayed like that for, but a voice in the back of your mind insisted that it wasn’t long enough. You could have drifted off into sleep like that if she didn’t draw away from you and take her warmth and cloud of perfume with her. It was then that you realized just how relaxed you were against her and leaned forward to make yourself comfortable. You had half the mind to reach out to stop her, beg for a little bit longer, but you knew her responsibilities as an idol couldn’t be put on hold forever. Still, you swiveled around in your seat to watch her as she drifted across the apartment and towards the front door with her bag in hand.

“I’ll be back soon!” Ahri called. “I love you!”

Now this was the hard part. You had to bite back a different response before it could slip out of out habit. “Be safe, and text me when you get there!”

The click of the door never came nor did the fragrance of her perfume fade with her, but her shoes came to an abrupt standstill that you almost threw yourself out of your chair thinking she tripped. You waved away the growing cloud of silence to call her name to snap her out of her short-lived stupor, where she did a one-eighty to face where you sat in the connecting room. She stared you down in visible confusion and her ears twitched, daring to lower against nicely brushed hair. She was too damn cute for her own good and this prank you saw online—which was probably staged, in hindsight—was already eating at your conscience.

Being an idol, she had to keep up a mask of composure to maintain her new image after K/DA’s foundation and return. The practiced smiles and dances, the perfect appearance and beauty that could allure anyone and everyone to her if she so desired it, everything. Now, you could practically see every thought flit across her face as feline-esque searched you for answers to whatever questions were being tossed around in her head. Her tails, once in the process of disappearing behind her, abruptly returned in a crystalline collection of nine and hung low by her ankles. She tipped her head to the side and her brows raised in concern that caused you to melt in your own guilt.

“Darling?”

“What’s up?”

“I love you.”

Quietly cursing yourself, you responded: “I love you, too.”

“C’mon, Ev. You’re gonna be late.”

ALONGSIDE A DRAWN OUT SIGH AGAINST YOUR SKIN, Evelynn rolled her eyes with the amount of sass you expected from her and more. You weren’t oblivious to how much she wanted to play and was trying to do so to guide your thoughts elsewhere while her wants and responsibilities as an idol clashed. Not that that stopped her before, but you were trying to drag yourself out of the spider’s web before you could be stuck and finally give in. She must have sensed your continued insistence because her lips contorted into a scowl that wasn’t as harsh as it felt like or was portrayed to be. You knew her long enough to know when she was really annoyed and now wasn’t one of those times.

She eventually detached herself from you and raised her head, taking all of the time in the world to do so. Her eyes—a wondrous amber that you could have gotten lost in if you looked too long—lingered on your throat with a smirk that she didn’t try to hide other than sinking her teeth into her bottom lip. She finally met your gaze and raised a perfectly trimmed eyebrow, as if silently asking you to weigh your options and if you really wanted her to leave. No, obviously, but she had things to do. One arm draped along your shoulder as her opposite hand traced your neck with a slowness that made a shiver run up your spine that you desperately bit back before she could notice. You’d never hear the end of it.

“Fine,” she eventually resigned like she was wounded.

She pushed herself up and off of you with no real hurry behind her movements until she was on her feet with quiet clicks of her heels. Her hands lingered on you for a few moments longer than totally necessary but you weren’t complaining. She stretched out with an intentionally low groan that you would be lying if you said didn’t have some kind of effect on you and she knew as much. Then her focus was back on you, fluttering her lashes as she gazed at you down the bridge of her nose. She bent over with one hand on your hip and other cupping your chin between her fingers, brushing your skin with a deceptively gentle touch while she tipped your head up slightly.

“But this isn’t over, darling.”

To anyone else, it may have sounded as though there was an underlying threat to her words. To you, however, there was anything but and she was just pulling your leg. For now. You grinned into the kiss to your lips and could practically feel the smear left behind, if most of it wasn’t on your neck.

“Until later, then. I love you so very much.”

Your response instinctively sat on your tongue and were ready to slip past your lips without so much as thinking but full of meaning and genuine feelings, but were abruptly bit back before they could form into words. You stilled yourself before you could jolt in place at her unintentional reminder and draw attention and suspicion to yourself, but she must have noticed something because she rose a brow for a few seconds before stalking towards the door with intentional sways. She was making this difficult and you considered throwing your self-imposed game for all sorts of reasons, but you forced yourself to persevere.

“Alright,” you merely said. “See you, Ev.”

The world stopped in place within seconds of your response processing in her pretty head until it was terrifyingly suffocating that you could have sworn she snatch all of the air from your lungs. She stopped in place and turned around to stare down her nose at you with such a scrutinizing glare that you struggled not to shrink under yet couldn’t look away from, even when the tapping of her shoe echoed through your ears and the still air of your shared apartment. She cocked a hip out and learned on one heeled foot, arms crossed along her chest and her fingers drumming down her arm.

“Excuse me?” She finally asked.

“What?” You blinked innocently.

“Is this some sort of joke?” Your girlfriend inquired and drummed her fingers along her arms. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

“I...don’t think so?”

“You’re sure?”

You glued your mouth shut as you bobbed your head, unconvinced you wouldn’t give yourself away if you gave her a vocal response.

“Well then...”

You knew that look in her eye the second you saw it and realized you unknowingly trapped yourself in the spider’s web. She was in front of you before you knew it, but there wasn’t an ounce of impatience. She nudged you back down onto the couch with enough force to get you to move but to comply if you weren’t in the mood or up for it. Her arms slipped around your shoulders and her nails grazed the back of your neck, pressing her knee between your legs and leaning against you. Her breath ghosted along your ear and you couldn’t hold back the shiver that raced up your spine or the quivering breath that slipped past your lips. She must have noticed because she barely restrained a low chuckle that certainly didn’t help you in your current situation.

“I’ll just have to remind you myself, darling.”

#°༺ glacial song! :: my works #kda x reader #kda #league of legends x reader #kda ahri x reader #kda evelynn x reader #league of legends #lol ahri #lol evelynn #kda ahri #kda evelynn #x reader #lol x reader #gender neutral reader #tw suggestive

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captain-kelli · 3 years ago

Text

Publicity Stunt // 02

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader Summary: Plans are made for your first date, but Steve flips the script. Will it work out in your favor? Word Count: 3.8K Warnings: Language A/N: A few things:

I no longer do tags. If you’d like to keep up with this story, follow @captain-kelli-library and turn on the notifications!

There are some images with text, as will be the case throughout the series. You can find the descriptions for them in the comments for accessibility!

Since this is apparently needed - do not share my work anywhere else. Period.

You could ignore the gossip rags, but the tweets annoyed you. These people weren’t being paid to assault your character and upend your life.

“Who does that kind of shit for free?”

Standing in your lab coat next to the quantum computer, you tweaked the position of the microwave lines. The rest of the team already left for the day, so you had the lab to yourself - perfect conditions for venting to an inanimate object.

“If all of those women actually knew Raheem, they wouldn’t want to be within five feet of him. He lowers the IQ of any room he’s in.”

Along with a team of first-rate scientists and cutting-edge technology, you were able to make considerable upgrades to Paradox in a short amount of time. You were proud of the early progress and expectant of what was to come. Every day was a reminder of the opportunity you earned.

“So then why am I still so damn mad?”

You knew the answer to this question, of course. You were mad because Raheem soured the deal. He stole your joy and sowed seeds of doubt amongst the public and your peers. And he was a fucker for that.

Straying away from the quantum computer, you walked to the chalkboard. You had to beg Tony to install it, declining multiple offerings for holographic screens spanning the whole room. You wanted to kick it old school. The chalkboard was where you learned advanced physics from your favorite professor at MIT. It’s where you wrote the first line of the algorithm for Paradox. It’s where you wanted to continue to work.

The chalkboard appeared on the big, empty wall the next morning.

You were working out a calculus problem when you heard the door to the lab open. Ignoring the new guest, you curled your tongue over your upper lip in stern concentration as the chalk scrawled across the classically green board. The newcomer wordlessly found a seat in your desk chair, the wheels squeaking as they rolled around in it.

Minutes passed by, though you weren’t sure how many, and your frustration with the math’s lack of cooperation grew until the piece of chalk you were holding finally snapped in your hand. A variable was missing. And it should’ve been obvious.

But you were thinking about Raheem.

“Damn it. That stupid motherfucker, piece of shit, no good…”

The whistle was low and descended. “Haven’t heard that kind of language since Germany.”

When you turned around, you saw Steve Rogers sitting at your desk, leaning back in the chair with one leg crossed comfortably over the other. If he was offended by your colorful words, he didn’t show it, so you didn’t bother apologizing.

“Just having a hard time cracking the code,” you said as your thumb gestured back to the chalkboard. “It’s all a part of the process.”

“Yeah, sure. I have that reaction to calculus all the time.” The right side of his mouth tugged up into a grin with his gentle sarcasm and it eased your anger.

Dusting the chalk off your hands with the help of your lab coat, you walked away from the board and closer to your desk. Closer to Steve. “How can I help you this afternoon, Captain?”

His hands pushed off his knees as he stood up. “Please, call me ‘Steve.’” He was charming, you’d give him that. “I was in Stark’s office before this, chatting with him and his publicist. It seems they’re eager to get this whole thing moving.” His hand motioned between the two of you.

“Oh, is that right? What do they have planned for our first outing?”

Steve spun around and walked to the chalkboard. “See, that’s the thing. I don’t really like their idea.” He considered the available pieces of chalk and continued, “that’s why I came to talk to you.” When he found a suitable piece, he began sketching on a blank part of the board.

“What do you mean you didn’t like it? How bad could it possibly be? And don’t get too close to the equations.”

He kept his visual attention entirely focused on whatever it was he was drawing. “Tony wants us to go to a new restaurant opening in the East Village. The publicist, I think her name is Miranda, says a lot of big names are supposed to be there. It’d be easy press.”

It was clear he had no intention of turning around and you were tired of standing, so you grabbed your chair and wheeled it over to the board. “What’s wrong with that?”

The chalk scratched in repetitive strokes as he spoke. “It’s a little obvious, don’t you think? It’s a lot for a first date - especially after you got dragged in the press.”

An indignant eyebrow shot up. “Hey! I didn’t get dragged.”

At that, he looked over his shoulder at you. “You did. Not your fault, but you did.” Back to the drawing. “The press is smart enough to put two and two together. And if they’re not, Twitter will. If we’re actually going to do this, it should be believable. That’s all I’m saying.”

You and your brain full of post-quantum physics spun in the chair, thoughts of Raheem dissipating by the minute. Instead, you were wondering when the old man learned the subtleties of social media. “Alright then, Steve. What do you propose we do instead?”

Steve returned the piece of chalk to the basin, dusted off his hands, and revealed his drawing. “I’m told first dates are casual in this century, so let’s get lunch. Since you’re still new to the city, I thought it’d be fun to check out the Loeb Boathouse.”

On your board, he drew Central Park’s reservoir with the boathouse restaurant in the background and it was beautiful.

“A working lunch. Okay.”

“Schrödinger, come to the robotics lab. We need to talk,” the text read.

Tony started Friday morning scrolling through social media, looking for evidence of your appearance at Urban Seed Kitchen. When he couldn’t find anything, he had JARVIS scour the internet for any hint of your outing with Rogers.

Nothing.

He remembered concocting the idea with Miranda. The publicist connected with the restaurant owners and secured a table for the two of you. She made several calls to journalists she had relationships with, tipping them off that you’d be there. He slowly and articulately explained the plan to Cap.

So, what was the issue?

There should have been stunning pictures of the two of you everywhere. Unless the two of you didn’t go. Which Tony suspected.

The question was, “why the hell not?”

“Because Steve came up with a different idea. I thought he would’ve told you,” you explained when you arrived at the robotics lab 15 floors above yours. Tony realized then that you hardly knew your imitation boyfriend - this was exactly his style.

“Well - he didn’t. Care to share?” Tony popped jellybeans into his mouth while awaiting your answer.

It was an effort for him to maintain his composure as you recounted Cap’s idea. If he was being honest, Tony would have had to admit it was a good idea. A perceptive strategy. He might have even gone so far as to confess that he wished the plan was his. But he was annoyed, so that wasn’t the way it went.

“...so we’ll be going to lunch in Central Park tomorrow afternoon,” you said as the explanation came to a finish.

Tony put the half-eaten bag of jellybeans down on his desk and picked up a screwdriver. It danced between his fingers before he clapped it against his palm all the while wishing he could put together words like he could a machine.

“If the two of you had talked to me about all of this, I could’ve pointed out the massive flaw in your little plan.” There was an edge to his voice that he didn’t attempt to hide, his frustration growing.

“Okay, Einstein. Fair. What are we missing?”

It wasn’t meant to be a confrontation. Your tone was light. And you were open to feedback. Without the tension of an argument, the two of you could just solve the problem. The strain in Tony’s shoulders eased and then he continued.

“If we don’t let the press know you’re going to be there, the two of you are just going to lunch. We’ve gotta loop Miranda into these decisions so she can work her magic. Luckily, a 24-hour notice should be enough.”

His phone appeared from out of his pocket and he punched out a text to the publicist. It was such an easy fix that Tony was suddenly glad he heard the news from you just so he didn’t have to fight with Rogers. It made for a nice change of pace.

You were walking out of the lab, presumably to return to your own work, when Tony stopped you. “One more thing, I got word back from legal.”

With the door handle in your grip, you spun around. “And?”

“No dice. The non-disparagement clause only covers Paradox and Stark Industries, not your personal relationship. We’re sending a cease-and-desist letter as a formality, but it’s not exactly enforceable,” he explained.

You frowned and pushed further. “Can we sue him for defamation? If for no other reason than to rack up his lawyer fees?”

“Not if you want the press to like you again. Like it or not, he looks like the victim here, so our best bet is to move on from it. Give them something else to talk about, remember? Starting with lunch tomorrow.”

Tony watched as you nodded your head in defeated agreement. “Starting with lunch tomorrow.”

The motorcycle’s engine came to a whisper as Steve parked it on your block. You had offered to just meet him at the restaurant, but he insisted on walking through the park together. Sliding off the bike, he walked the short distance to your doorstep and rang the buzzer.

“I’ll be right down,” you said over the intercom.

Steve stood at the bottom of the stairs of the stoop, hands stuffed into the pockets of his black bomber jacket. Unsure of what to wear on a fictitious first date, he kept it simple with a white t-shirt and jeans, so he was relieved to see you kept it simple, too.

The army-green utility jacket and ripped jeans said, “casual,” he thought. Though, the black heels caught his eye.

“It’s a twenty-minute walk to the restaurant, you sure you’re good in those shoes?” His eyebrows rose as he pointed to your feet and you looked down.

“What? Don’t like ‘em?” Twirling at the top of the steps, Steve got a full look at you and had to do his best to keep it professional.

“They’re nice - just not the shoes I would’ve picked for a long walk.”

“We don’t have to walk, let’s hail a cab if you’re that worried about me.” You came down the stairs now, meeting his gaze with a wink.

“I have a better idea.”

Moments later, Steve was cutting through New York traffic on his Harley with your arms wrapped around his waist underneath his jacket. You had complained about the lack of helmets and threatened to kill him if you died, less than subtle ways to demonstrate your feelings on motorcycles. In a calm, if not teasing tone, he assuaged every fear. Somewhere on Amsterdam Avenue, he silently grinned as you clung to his body even tighter.

As far as missions went, this one was certainly the most fun. The least life-threatening. Still, he lost sleep the night he volunteered. He had been convinced that Raheem was a dick and you needed help, but the plan was inherently dishonest. He questioned if there was not an honorable way to garner the positive attention from the press that Tony insisted you needed. He doubted the willingness of the public to believe what he thought was such an obvious lie. It was a decision made in haste and it worried him. But he trusted Natasha and Tony. And he already liked you.

Hours after he agreed to the arrangement, he made a silent promise to himself - if he was going to do this, it was damn well going to be believable. Otherwise, there was little point in doing it at all. That’s why he walked into your lab and flipped the script.

It did not, however, account for the pleasant flutter in his chest at the feeling of your hands on his body. He elected to ignore that altogether and focused on the mission.

He nestled the bike in a small, empty spot on the corner of 74th and Central Park West. The warmth of your arms disappeared as you climbed off the back and he quickly followed. It was only a matter of minutes before you were in the park and deep in conversation.

“You actually met the codebreakers at Bletchley Park? I don’t believe it.”

It wasn’t often that Steve shared stories from the war - it felt like an entirely different life and version of himself - but when you were explaining how that moment in history impacted your decision to found Paradox, he saw an opening.

“Scout’s honor. The invitation came after B.P. intelligence helped us take out three HYDRA bases that weren’t even on our radar. Monty was over the moon when the call came.”

The two of you walked side-by-side, passing the Bethesda Fountain, and you continued to interrogate Steve.

“Did you get to go into any of the huts? Did you see any of the ciphers, the bombes? Did you get to meet Alan Turing?”

Steve smiled wide at your enthusiasm, enjoying the way your eyes danced between each and every thought. He pushed that sensation down and answered your questions.

“No, nothing like that. Even though we signed the Official Secrets Act long before the visit, they kept every secret compartmentalized well. We did get a tour of the grounds and lunch in the mansion though. And Dum Dum Dugan disappeared with one of the girls from Hut 8. I remember that.” The memory made Steve laugh and miss his old friend.

The Loeb Boathouse came into view along with a spray of daffodils and cherry blossoms. Spring in New York had become Steve’s favorite after he came out of the ice. Like him, the city escaped from winter’s chill and sprung back to life. The kaleidoscope of colors renewed his hope in his newfound existence and eased the loss of a former life unlived.

To Steve’s delight, it was warm enough to sit on the restaurant’s patio overlooking the lake. You thanked the hostess after she shared the specials for the afternoon along with a recommendation of her favorite plate and then settled into your seat. Steve screened what he could see of the restaurant and park from where he was sitting.

“You said Tony made the arrangements for the photographers?” His voice was low as if he was on a covert mission somewhere in Eastern Europe. This was, after all, a job. Or so he kept telling himself.

You, he realized, seemed unfazed. Ignoring his question, you continued to study the menu, only looking up to ask, “do you think the panccheri pasta is too heavy for lunch?”

Instead of meeting his eye, you were looking past him at the dock full of rowboats and gondolas. Among them, Steve saw a man with a camera and understood your silent message.

“After that walk? No, I think the pasta is perfect.”

The rest of lunch was a show. In between over-the-top smiles and brief touchings of hands, Steve shared a few more stories from the second world war in exchange for the history of Raheem.

“It wasn’t some big love story. I could probably count on a single hand the number of times we ever muttered the words, ‘I love you.’ It was mostly business, although I wouldn’t have admitted it at the time. Our relationship served a purpose.”

Steve listened intently, recognizing the same could be said about your own pseudo-relationship together. He was lost in that realization when you asked, “what about you? I’m assuming you’re single now, otherwise, this arrangement would be problematic. But what about before? Have you ever been in love?”

Looking back over to the rowboats, Steve noticed the photographer had left and allowed his face to fall a bit. “Not in this lifetime.”

Thoughts of Peggy drifted lazily into his mind and a fondness bloomed within him.

“What happened to her?”

When he looked back to you, your elbows were on the table and your face was in the palms of your hands. You were leaning in. It wasn’t the best topic for a first date he could admit, even a fake one. But for once, the vulnerability didn’t unsettle him.

“Exactly what I would’ve hoped. She lived a beautiful, meaningful life and found love again.” Steve’s eyes went back to the lake as did yours and it was quiet for a time.

Eventually, the sound of your voice broke the spell of the exes. “Well, how do you think we did on our first mission, Captain? Objective complete?”

His face warmed when he looked back to you. “I suppose we’ll find out tomorrow, but I think it was a solid effort by the team,” he said, trying to sound serious while furrowing his brow.

The lighthearted tone of conversation returned on the walk through the park and back to the bike. And when your arms wrapped around Steve’s waist for a second time, he allowed himself the briefest of seconds to enjoy it.

You woke up on Sunday morning in a daze.

Buried deep in a sea of pillows and a comforter, you soaked in the events of yesterday. Steve Rogers, as it turned out, was every bit as wonderful as the world suspected. New York felt more like home than it had since you moved here. And, for the first time since Boston, you felt in control of your future again.

If you still held any skepticism for the plan after yesterday, it disappeared entirely the moment you picked up your phone.

Over 400 Twitter notifications. 15 missed phone calls. 192 unread emails. Scrambling to open a browser, you quickly searched for your name and, sure enough, half the internet was talking about your date with Steve. After perusing four or five articles, you felt it safe to say that the reception was positive and you breathed a sigh of relief.

It’s working.

Closing the browser, you noticed more than a few notifications in your texts. The first one you opened was from Steve. “Objective officially complete. Well done.” You laughed at the winking emoji he used, continuously impressed with his determination to assimilate to this century. You shot back a response, “thankful for the strategic direction of army command.”

The second text you read was from Tony. “If you ever tell him this, you’re fired, but Steve was right. The pictures really sell it.” Though you promised to keep your lips sealed, you planned to tell Steve the moment you saw him next.

There were a few other texts from friends, shrieking that you didn’t tell them you had a date planned with Captain America. In an effort to keep up the charade, you indulged them with details of the lunch, acting as if it were real.

The last unread text was from Raheem. An aggravated sigh fought its way out of your throat as you finally opened it. “Can we talk?”

The two of you hadn’t spoken in months. The master tactician walked away from the acquisition a multi-millionaire and a media darling. You heard it through the grapevine that he landed a job as Chief Operating Officer at one of the leading hedge funds in Manhattan, a position that he undoubtedly bought and would use to line his pockets. He had a rotating roster of models that clung to his arm every weekend, or so it appeared on social media.

Can we talk?

What the fuck did the two of you have to talk about anymore? He got what he wanted from you - fame and fortune. There was nothing left to discuss.

“No. Delete my number.”

The phone pinged not a second later. “If you really didn’t want to talk, you wouldn’t have even responded. Come on, let’s work this out.”

He had a point, so you opened his contact profile and blocked his number.

Rolling out of bed, you decided to head to work. Yeah, it was the weekend and you didn’t have to, but you felt inspired by your afternoon with Steve. There was an incomplete equation left on your chalkboard and you had a good idea of how to solve it. The missing variable wasn’t such a mystery anymore.

On the way to the tower, you snagged a copy of the New York Bulletin and laughed when you found yourself on the front page. Life had flipped upside down in a matter of months, but it wasn’t all bad.

In the lab next to your unfinished equation was his chalk drawing. You always liked a clean board so you grabbed the eraser, but paused as it hovered over the sketch. When the idea occurred to you, you dropped the eraser in the basin and grabbed a pair of scissors.

The blades made quick work out of the article. Taking a magnet from your desk, you rushed to the board to hang the clipping that told the story of your first date alongside Steve’s drawing.

Then and only then were you able to finish the equation, no longer distracted with thoughts of Raheem.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers fanfiction

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beels-burger-babe · 3 years ago

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Hi! I saw that requests are open, if it's not a problem could i request Satan reacting to MC coming to him with new books every time they hang out because they want him to read them out loud since they have a short attention span? Like, Satan would be reading said book while MC is drawing or doing something else.

I have adhd and reading books that are not digital is a nightmare for me, so him reading out loud would be pretty relaxing.

Btw it's up to you if you wanna do headcanons or a oneshot!

ABSOLUTELY!!! So this is actually my first request and I'm super excited because as someone who also has ADHD I can totally relate! I hope you like it!

Too Still, Too Quiet

GN!MC with ADHD Summary: Satan notices that MC seems to have a hard time hanging out with him; he's determined to get to the bottom of the issue and find a solution.

After living in the House of Lamentation for nearly a year, you've grown accustomed to the many quirks that came with living with the seven Lords of the Devildom. You had gotten close to the brothers, and as they picked up on your symptoms for your ADHD, they each found their own ways of being helpful. Lucifer had always known, as it was written on your file, and made a point of sending you subtle reminders throughout the day to keep you organized and on task. He brushed it off saying that it merely prevented him from having to go after you later on if you forgot or did something incorrectly. Mammon was no stranger to having a hard time prioritizing and staying focused and took pride in lending you some of the different tools he used to fidget with. After all, his human deserved the best, and you couldn’t get any better than using something that belonged to the great Mammon. Leviathan’s room provided a relaxing atmosphere with just enough stimulation to keep your brain satisfied enough to focus on your school work and tasks. The sounds of the aquarium provided a fantastic back ground noise, and Levi always took caution in wearing his headphones when he gamed if you were working in his room to not add to the distractions around you. Asmodeus had a good eye for when you were growing too frustrated by the regular chaos that tended to fill the House of Lamentation and would pull you aside to his room for some self-care to help calm you down. There was nothing like a head message and face mask from Asmo as he happily gossiped about the latest drama in The Fall to help ground you. Beelzebub, on the other hand, was great at noticing when you were starting to grow restless. In those moments, he’d not-so-subtly state that he was heading to the gym and it’d sure be nice if he had someone to join in before very obviously making eye contact with you. At first you had a hard time figuring out a good balance between a work out that satisfied Beel while also not killing you. But now the two of you easily worked with each other until you were both sweating, smiling, and happy. He also made sure to remind you to eat through out the day whenever you went to a round of hyper-fixation on something. Belphegore wasn’t particularly helpful when it came to your forgetful spells or disorganization as, being the Avatar of Sloth, he would normally encourage such behavior. Instead, he did what he did best, and helped put your wandering mind to ease whenever you were trying to sleep. The only person, and not for a lack of trying, that you just couldn’t seem to find a flow with was Satan.

He was too quiet and organized for you to be able to stand being around him for long periods of time. You had tried hanging out with him a couple of times, but after a few minutes of him silently reading or him explaining whichever text he was currently studying, you would grow restless and distracted. Which brought you to your current situation. Satan had invited you to come relax in his room with him, as the rest of his brothers were dealing with the aftermath of their most recent dilemma. It wasn’t so bad at first, some light conversation here, some banter there, but soon your mind started to wander off to the spines of the endless books around you as you pondered on what might be inside them. “MC?” Your attention snapped back onto Satan, who stood frowning at you. You blushed and scratched the back of your neck. “Oh, I’m sorry. I got a little distracted. What were you saying?” Satan sighed as his frown deepened. “I’ve noticed that tends to happen a lot with you. Not that there’s anything wrong with that!” He quickly amended raising his hands in defense. “But it seems particularly bad when you’re with me. You get quite jittery and I don’t think you’ve ever stayed in my room longer than ten minutes,” for a second his eyes almost looked sad as he looked over at you, “Is it something I’m doing? Do I make you uncomfortable?” “No! Satan, no, it’s not you I promise!” You quickly reassured moving closer to him. “It’s just well I have a hard time staying still and focusing on things and when it gets too quiet it bothers me because then my brain is like hyper fixating on the smallest noises in the room, even though I’m supposed to be focusing on what you’re saying or my work, and it’s like, is that a page a turning or a something scratching at the door and then I start wondering about what kind of things could be in here and-” “MC.” Satan cut off, though he didn’t seem annoyed. In fact, his eyes now gleamed with a sense of understanding. “Do you happen to have ADHD?” “Yeah, I thought you all knew? Lucifer told all of you when I arrived right? That’s why everyone is so-” you moved your hand in a vague gesture that even you weren’t entirely sure what it was meant to symbolize. Satan huffed and shook his head. “Lucifer did no such thing. I imagine he would’ve told us if it came to be a big enough problem. But you know him. He takes pride in being the only one to know certain things. “ You frowned and tilted your head in confusion. “But then what about the others? They’ve all been helping me out for months now.” Satan placed a hand under his chin in thought, “They most likely took note of individual symptoms and decided to help. Belphegore, and possibly even Leviathan and Asmodeus may have put two and two together, but the rest probably think you’re just forgetful or that you’re restless,” he smiled reassuringly at you, “but that’s besides the point. Now that I know, I can help make you feel more at ease when you’re with me. What’s the main issue that you-” “It’s too quiet!” You quickly cut off, causing Satan to raise an eyebrow. “When we’re in here relaxing and you’re just reading and I’m supposed to be reading too, it’s too quiet. I try to focus on the book, but my mind keeps jumping around to other things. And I want to read all those books you’ve recommended to me, I really do, but I start feeling bored after a little while and next thing I know I jumping sentences without noticing and then I’ve gone an entire chapter with no recollection of what I’ve just read because I wasn’t really paying attention to the words at all I was just flipping pages without realizing it, so I have to go back and re-read the whole thing all over again!” You throw your hands in the air in frustration. “Is exhausting and makes me feel dumb, so I get up and do something else instead.” Satan nodded, taking in every word carefully. “Well first of all,” you yelped as he flicked your forehead. “Ouch! What was that for?!” The demon smirked and crossed his arms over his chest. “For calling yourself dumb. Just because you have more difficulty with literature than others, does not mean you’re dumb. You simply require a different reading strategy than what most consider “usual”, and I believe I have a solution that would suit both of us,” you perked up at his words. “I recommended those books to you because I greatly enjoyed them myself. How about, when you’re here, you can choose a book you want to read, and I will read it out loud for you? That should help, yes?” A light airy warmth filled your chest at just how accommodating Satan was willing to be. “But what about the books that you were reading?” The demon shrugged, “I can always read them in my spare time.” He moved closer to take your hands into his, silently demanding your full attention. “I want to spend more time with you and get to know you better. I want you to be comfortable and be able to be yourself when you’re around me without feeling stressed. This is honestly the least I could do for you, MC.” Blushed rushed to your cheeks as you felt your heart flutter in your chest. You awkwardly cleared your throat and took your hands back, rubbing them on your legs as you noted how clammy they were. “I think I-I would like that a lot” The grin on Satan’s face widened as he took one of your hands and lead you deeper into the bookshelves of his room. “Splendid! Then why don’t we get try right away? Take you pick, MC, I will be your narrator for the evening and for as long as you wish.” ***** I hope this was something along the lines of what you were looking for! It is a little short, but I hope you like it. Thank you so much for the request, I loved it! Requests are OPEN and I would definitely love to complete some more if anyone has any ideas or prompts that they’d like me to complete. Just send in an ask and, if I feel comfortable with it, I’ll do my best to make a fic for it!

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thecurioustale · 1 year ago

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Thank you!! This is super appreciated. As someone who has no networks and no following, getting feedback of any kind is actually even harder than raising money (!). It's absolutely bewildering to do stuff in a public-facing way for years and years and hear almost nothing but crickets. The feedback I do get is rare enough that individual instances of it visibly move the needle.

So! First things first; I'm delighted to hear you enjoyed the Prelude to After The Hero!

Mainly, however, I wanted to use a few of your points as springboards to raise some issues that I didn't touch on in my original post.

I think it's pretty natural for you as an author to engage with Tumblr primarily through longform text, but it is countervalent to the local culture.

This is something I thought about prior to my return to Tumblr. Most online spaces, just like most real-life ones, have a prevailing etiquette that one declines to comply with at one's own risk. And I explicitly thought about the fact that a lot of the posts I see on here are very short. In this and other respects, I was aware that I might very well return here and come across like a carpetbagger who knows nothing of Tumblr's ways. For all I know, some people did take away that impression.

I didn't act on my concern because, really, what can you do? Be passive for a long time and learn the ropes? All you really end up doing is letting other people live your life for you. As someone who's had a lifetime of not being accepted, I've gotten pretty good by now at just being myself. I figured the basics of good manners would get me by: Put a "keep reading" on super-long posts; provide hyperlinks where beneficial; don't go making trouble for no reason.

But, yeah, one of the impressions I've taken away from my six weeks here is that multiple long-form (or what we call "long-form" nowadays) posts per week is probably more than I need to be doing, and could actively be putting off people who want to read my posts but don't have five minutes a day to do it. (Though that's just speculation because, again, very little feedback!)

However, as a counterpoint to that:

another part is that terrible thing that happened to all our attention spans in the 21st century.

I am one of the few people to whom this didn't happen, and I've decided over the years to more or less be a bastion for others who don't consider a couple of full-figured paragraphs to be "a novel." Though I use the word "essay" casually nowadays, in my heart of hearts I think the only true essay I've written since returning here is the 7,000+ word essay on fat liberation; everything else has really just been casual light reading. My fiction likewise is very much a monument to the long attention span, with its indulgently slow developments. It's not written to be long on purpose, but rather I've consciously chosen to refrain from heeding most of the customs and conventions that would make it shorter, so as to be truer to myself in writing it.

So who knows; maybe it's just as well that I post longer stuff on here. One thing's for sure: In lieu of more data, I don't know!

A Homestuck fan can and will read Ulysses if it's mixed in with a brightly colored collage of jpegs!

This I fully agree with! I'm a writer myself (as in for work) and it's a basic truism that if you want audiences to read your content you should include pictures. I haven't really done any of that here on my return to Tumblr (and I rarely do it in general) because if I'm honest I have a hard time going through the rigmarole of it. But your feedback is a reminder that I really should be doing this.

The biggest problem with Tumblr, as I mentioned earlier, is that trying to get money out of it is absolutely squeezing blood from a stone. The userbase is aging, but it's still dramatically skewed towards people that don't have a lot of disposable income or social prestige

Yeah, for sure. Thankfully, my goal here isn't to get money, because as you say I would expect nothing at all to come from virtually any amount of effort toward that end. My purpose here is just to build my audience. (That's one of the principal reasons I haven't hawked more of my crap here, lol!) I would love to get to a point where I'd be able to reliably get feedback on anything I care to. I would then hope that, from there, the money would eventually take care of itself on the strength of my content here and elsewhere.

Anyway, thank you again very much for the feedback. At the risk of sounding trite, but for the sake of being earnest, "it means more than you know."

My 6-Week Tumblr Return Trial Period Is Up

Happy Autumn! Today is the Autumnal Equinox. (That is, if you're in the Pacific Daylight Time zone or earlier; it's actually tomorrow, the 23rd. The moment of equinox is 11:49 pm PDT this year.)

I came back to Tumblr six weeks ago (actually a little shy of seven weeks but six is the highest whole number) and said that I was going to give it consistent effort till the Equinox to see how I felt about it. Well, that day is today!

I've decided to significantly reduce my Tumblr presence, but not go back to zero like before. I still plan to post at least once or twice a week, and more whenever the fancy catches me. I don't want to slow-roll you, so there's the bottom line.

For those interested, I thought I would talk about my experience since returning.

Why I Came Back

A few years ago on my birthday I set myself a challenge of posting in my journal every day for a year—which I more or less did, and then promptly stopped because it had been a laborious thing for me with limited rewards.

This year on my birthday I decided to try that challenge again, except this time "soft": no formal public announcement, and no penalty if I missed a day. Good thing, too, because I missed a day right away! 😅 But I definitely was doing more and better writing on my journal than I had been, and I liked that. Maybe there was a sweet spot between the strict artifice of one journal entry every day and the sad default of no entries for weeks.

Then, a few days into the challenge, I got the idea of diverting this energy away from my journal and into social media, to try and begin the long process of building an audience for my creative works. I recognize with some dread that when I eventually do finish my next novel, no one is going to read it—because no one is going to know it exists. But that's not set in stone; this is something platforms can help with! And you can't just build a platform overnight. You have to start well in advance. In this post-mainstream-publishing era where independent artists' only hope is to create their own following, I knew that I would have to at least try, if I wanted people to actually read my work.

Building a platform is something I had done years ago, around the time the Prelude to After The Hero was coming out, and I was hugely successful at that time in creating lots of content and lots of channels—i.e. the platform part. But I didn't actually get anywhere in building an audience. Then my life fell apart from multiple catastrophes in a short period, and for many years I had no ability to pursue "platform growth" at all.

But I have that ability again, at least temporarily, and maybe this time I could do better.

Marketing and being social are very hard for me. They don't come naturally to me and I am not good at them. But what I can do is write about my creative work, my life, my take on the world, and anything else that comes to mind. With any luck, that would attract some eyeballs. It's the same thing I was doing eight years ago in my platform-building work, but I could be smarter about it this time, and learn from my past mistakes, which involved a lot of wasted effort that no one ever saw. This time I could try going specifically where the people are: social media! Social media was a part of my original platform-building push eight years ago, but only on the periphery. This time I could put all my platform-building into it, and not all the different channels at once, but just in one single place. Concentrate all my effort on a single point!

So I chose Tumblr: the only social media platform that still seems to reward long-form, thoughtful content. (Not counting YouTube video content.) Facebook is definitely on the way out as a relevant social media network, Twitter was unusually toxic even before the idiot took over, and TikTok to put it politely is not my jam. But Tumblr...I still use Tumblr! I still read several people's pages, and have done so for many years.

I was never actually active on Tumblr as a creator myself. As far as posting my own content goes, my social media home has always been on Facebook (and, for a while, Google+). My "return" to Tumblr this summer wasn't really anything of the sort. Even though my account is many years old, this summer was my first time making a big effort here.

And here's what I learned.

What Worked and What Didn't

I went in with very low expectations. In other words, I didn't actually expect anyone to see my work. I expected to put in my six weeks, toil away in obscurity the whole time, and leave.

But a couple people did notice my return, and reblogged my early posts, and between them they had enough followers that their reblogs got me a small influx of followers. (Hi!) So there were eyeballs, at least. I wasn't talking to the wall. It was a good bet that anything I wrote would at least have a chance of being seen by multiple other people.

A good start!

I set about trying to learn about the Tumblr algorithm and people's usage patterns. I learned that there is a very strong signal to set apart the content that people enjoy seeing and the content they don't. On the scale of Zero to Fire, a lot of what I wrote was either hard Zero or pretty decently Fire.

In the Zero category: My short-form humor was dead on arrival. So was my Tolkienian vocabulary series. My fat liberation essay—by far the biggest effortpost I made during my six weeks here—attracted a single troll and no legitimate engagement whatsoever. At 7700 words I doubt many people even read it. Cool art reblogs were also pretty much a Zero. The people in my tiny audience don't want to see any of this stuff, at least not from me.

In the Fire category: People liked my hot takes on copyright law, left-handedness, rationalist-adjacent topics and framings, some personal anecdotes (but not others), and—most promisingly—some of my discussion about the mechanics of authoring and writing, including topics such as redemption arcs, body diversity representation, losing interest in one's own stories, and long sentences. To the extent I am going to attempt to build a larger Tumblr following over time, this "mechanics of authoring" area is probably where I will focus my primary aim.

Not everything was Zero or Fire. There were also some posts in the middle. My posts actually discussing my own work, The Curious Tale and Galaxy Federal, landed in this space. They mostly fell flat for my general audience, but did noticeably better than the hard Zero stuff due to the consistent engagement of a tiny handful of fans. (Thank you, especially you Fip!)

In terms of financial support, six weeks of content creation on Tumblr yielded no book sales and no new patrons on my Patreon fund, though I did get one pledge increase from an existing patron! This isn't a big surprise, since I didn't make any push to attract new patrons and have made no attempt to hide that my book is also available for free. Still, zero is a noticeable number.

What Tumblr Feels Like

I'll be honest with you: I don't really "do" social media. I never have. I don't like social media. I am a creature of individual websites, web journals / blogs, and message forums. Facebook is the social network I use most (if you don't count YouTube), and my Facebook is set up more like a walled garden than a social network node—i.e., it is almost completely restricted to the people on my deliberately-short friends' list. I use it to look at cool pictures of clouds and landscapes, learn about things going on in my city, and keep in touch with friends. I've never really been one to use social media the way it is intended these days.

Nevertheless: Of all the social networks, I've always had a comparatively positive view of Tumblr. Tumblr is where freaks and weirdos come to be freaky and weird, and I love it. (Sometimes in principle more than practice, but still.) There used to be a tumblr called "Fuck Yeah Fat Upper Arms," and that was what I would point to whenever I had to explain to someone why I love Tumblr.

I also know there are notorious amounts of drama and pettiness on Tumblr, but in my experience it isn't so hard to just sidestep it most of the time. Also, I don't follow all that many people, so I probably just don't see much of this stuff in the first place.

When I returned to Tumblr I am pleased to say that it was basically what I hoped for: lots of wonderful niche and countercultural stuff; really thoughtful discussions that get a lot more depth here than almost anyplace else I've seen; and amazing art and fanart. There were lots of takes I didn't like, of course. Lots of stuff that rubbed me wrong. And the drama is definitely alive and well. But that's just life, right? As amplified by social media in all its unnuanced might. On the whole, I have enjoyed my time spent browsing Tumblr these past six weeks.

One thing actually did bring down my spirits about this place, though, and it has nothing to do with drama or takes I don't like: Tumblr feels kind of addictive. Like a giant industrial vat full of churning slurry, and if you fall in there's no getting out. I have an addictive personality, not to booze or drugs (as far as I know) but to content sources, specifically "content-firehose" websites that always have new things to read. I was stuck on GameFAQs for years back in the day, long after it had become a net-negative for me. Right now my big content addiction is Reddit, and it's definitely a net negative in my life for all the time it wastes for so little in return. And there have been many other content addictions in the years between. It's very hard for me to leave a content-firehose website once I've gotten sucked into it. And I really, really don't want to get sucked into Tumblr.

Like, this place is genuinely cool, but it doesn't "do it" for me like it did the last time I paid close attention to it. Fuck Yeah Fat Upper Arms is gone, and with it the innocence of my youth. Social media just isn't my scene, and returning to Tumblr has definitely given me the impression that I've "outgrown" it altogether. (I wrote a few days ago about one of the reasons why I think this.) I don't particularly want to spend a lot of time here. I don't have that content addiction to Tumblr yet, and I can feel myself actively straining to avoid developing it every time I'm on here. That's why I've only been reading my dashboard a few times a week.

I'm not saying social media is something juvenile that everyone is supposed to outgrow; I'm just talking about my own preferences and issues. My ideal use case for Tumble is to check in with Tumblr periodically and see new Samus Aran fanart and hot takes on cool things I've never heard about or thought deeply enough about. But, in practice, reading my Tumblr dashboard feels like dipping my feet in that vat of slurry I mentioned: It's very time-consuming and a lot of the stuff I see I don't really "need" in my life.

This six-week experiment has actually helped me to realize that, going forward, I should be looking to use social media less in my life, not more. It isn't just all-consuming and energy-draining; it has become kind of evil over the years. Tumblr isn't nearly as bad as some of the worst offenders, but on the whole we're slowly being pushed to use these services in very particular ways, ways which degrade us, and it's nefarious. Not just the abuse of our personal information and privacy, but the way we spend our time and think about the world. Social media seems to be making society actively worse on the whole, and that's down to the profit motives of the people who make the rules about how these services operate. It's probably not a coincidence that Tumblr, as one of the least-problematic major social networks, is also not particularly profitable.

I have lamented for years that I wish we would go back to individual people's websites and enthusiast–owned-and-operated message forums. I really think that this viewpoint is not just my nostalgia glasses talking; I think the individual websites paradigm was a better way of experiencing the Internet and interacting with each other. But while I can't do much to change society's patterns in general, I can at least be deliberate about how I engage with social media myself. And I think I'm going to be doing less of that as time goes on.

My actual public face is my Live Journal, even though it has languished for years. Either it or some successor blog is likely to be an ongoing constant for the rest of my life. I hope people will gradually find me there.

The Long Game

You're not gonna build an audience in six weeks. I know that. Also, in my time here, I've only done one of the two things that one needs to do to build an audience on social media: I've created content. I think my content has been more or less decent. (You can tell me if you think otherwise.)

What I haven't done is heavily engage with other content creators. I haven't done many reblogs; I've done zero asks; and I don't follow other tumblrs in a businesslike mindset of network—I only follow the ones I think I might like to read.

If I were to continue, the next step in my trial period would be a 3-month experiment. I've had enough success here in the past six weeks to justify dedicating another three months of my life to daily Tumblr posts if I want.

In that time I would need to focus more on the "networking" side of social networking. On the content side, I would continue trying to figure out what people like to see and what they don't. But it's the networking stuff that would be next in line for my full attention.

I'm also aware that all of my data are biased by the small size of my audience and the nonrandom composition of it. There is a danger in optimizing for that, from a long-term scalability and optimization standpoint. My social networking efforts would have to be geared toward diversifying my audience as much as growing it, because the truth of the matter is that I don't know yet who "my" audience truly is. Most of the people here now are people who are here because they like other creators and respected those people's recommendations—not because they necessarily like my art. The poor showing of my posts discussing my art kind of speak to that point.

So the question is, do I have a 3-month trial period in me? Or even just another 6-week period?

And that's a really tough question. I need to be writing my books, and I need to be paying my rent, and when I'm here on Tumblr I'm not doing either of those things. The best-case scenario is that by being here I'm setting myself up to pay future rents and have more available time for future creative writing. But in the meantime there are rents coming due in the immediate future, and my mental bandwidth is sickly and limited.

Is Tumblr even the place to build my audience? It might not be! It might be YouTube. It probably is YouTube. But Tumblr isn't nothing, and writing short essays is a hell of a lot faster than producing videos. A few loyal Tumblr followers might be just the pop I would need to get a future YouTube effort off to a running start.

One of my flaws as an entrepreneur is that I hate thinking like one when it comes to this whole sales / engagement / audience-building / marketing stuff. I like thinking about people as people, not as economic partners whose tastes and needs I must carefully accommodate to in order to hopefully earn a living from this someday. And I don't like thinking about my own content here as "content." I hate that word. But I am under no illusions about why I am here. I am not here for fun. I've done my Live Journal "for fun" for twenty years (as of last month!) and I have no audience to show for it. Growing an audience is not about having fun. Bonus points if you can manage to have fun along the way, but what it's really about is giving people an experience that they enjoy and want more of.

Social media is a hungry beast, a dehumanizing force (in my view), and an algorithmic rat race. I would much rather create content on my own terms, rather than try to play the social media game. This is one of the many reasons why I am so bad at the whole marketing side of building a business. Successful entrepreneurs dive right into it and give the people what they want. Like that "emotional damage" mate on YouTube: He gave an interview talking about how he just tried different schticks, not even comedy per se, until he found something that worked on people.

In an ideal world, when my next book is finished I could just press a button and everyone in the world know about its existence, and everyone who is interested could buy it and read it. But in the real world, you have to peck and scrape your way to attention, and I'm just so bad at this that it discourages me from even making the attempt.

So, adding it all up, what I come up with is that it would be wasteful for me to just abruptly give up on Tumblr as suddenly as I returned to it. I've started a ball rolling here, and I can build on that beginning if I want. But I also don't think that people need to hear from me on a daily basis. I'm probably not doing myself any favors by posting effortful content every day, not just in terms of my own sustainability but in terms of the algorithms of Tumblr and the mental bandwidth of my readers.

So I've come to the conclusion that Tumblr is probably not where my audience is going to be built, if indeed I ever manage to build one. But there is some potential here, and, more importantly, this is where the vast majority of my current fans are.

Ergo, going forward I will be reducing my posting frequency to a target of once or twice per week, plus whatever extras I see fit to add. I will continue to test out different types of content to see what catches interest. And I will start playing that social networking game that I dread so much, and try to engage more with others and hawk myself far and wide without looking like I'm trying to hawk myself, because for all that we claim to live in an age of sincerity we absolutely don't, and we will see where things go.

I will revisit this at Halloween, and see how I feel about it.

In the meantime, I will try to take some of this bandwidth I am freeing up and allocate it to other audience-building work. More on that as I have it for you!

If you made it this far, thanks for reading and for giving me some of your time. Please please please do give me some feedback if there's anything you want to know or want to see me discuss.

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