#this has been in my notes app for ages so i'm leaving it on here now

[aliusfrater]

in relation to whether or not john would have killed or attempted to had he not died in 2.01, i think john himself was already living with the impression of/duty relating to the idea that he'd have to either save sam or kill him from whenever he'd found out about the special children and that sam was a special child to the point at which he passed on this revelation to dean. so the question becomes moreso akin to dean's own season two conflict after the job of 'save him or kill him' has been passed on: what is john's own dichotomy of monstrosity? as patriarch, is it or is it not it capable of being stretched to fit sam within the ideal of what is not monstrous (evil)? and the thing is that i feel like the remainder of the first season, as well as 2.01, past the point at which john is made aware of sam's abilities answers this for you: sam was capable of fitting within what john considered to not be monstrous/john did stretch the dichotomy of monstrosity to fit sam within those who are innocent/the victim because even with his knowledge about what happened to sam, he did not attempt to kill sam.

[yellowharrington]

wildflower and barley -- joel miller x reader

pairing + fandom: joel miller x reader, the last of us (hbo)

word count: 5k+ oops

warnings/notes: smut smut smut!!! minors DNI, 18+!!! no outbreak!au. age gap (it's implied reader is in her 20s while joel is 45) and mentions of joel being kinda perverted and liking it lol. drinking (both reader and joel, not excessive), use of a dating app like tinder but not specified, unprotected PIV w creampie and oral (m+f receiving), do not fuck your tinder hookups without protection i'm just horny and gross. excessive use of darlin' as a nickname. implied that reader likes men. she/her pronouns used, afab!reader (with mentions of body parts), no use of y/n. if i missed anything lmk!

a/n: heavily inspired by this post by @yesttoheaven about joel's tinder profile!! it has been rotting my brain since i saw it which literally inspired me to write my first fic in the tlou fandom ever so please be gentle with me. i imagined show!joel because i've never played the game so do with that what you will. please reblog and leave comments if u enjoy it <3333

divider by @cafekitsune

summary: after deciding to change your age range on a dating app in hope of a change of scenery, you stumble across joel miller.

No one likes using dating apps.

Swiping left, left, left mindlessly at troves of men holding fish, showing off their trucks, or with deer heads mounted to the walls behind their selfies holding guns.

This was Texas, after all.

Having just moved here, it was a little shocking, to say the least. But you were getting used to the “eligible” bachelors that were your age generally looking and acting the same. When you did end up finding someone of interest, you were usually turned off pretty quickly by whatever shitty pick-up line they had chosen. Or, your personal favourite, “wanna fuck?”

No thanks.

It was an idyllic summer evening, the hot stuffy air of Austin flowing in through your windows. You laid in bed, propped up on the pillows against your headboard and sorting through the faces that adorned your screen. No one particularly interesting, as usual, and every profile was starting to melt together to look the same.

You sighed, looking into your settings, adjusting and increasing different metrics to hopefully change the pool just enough for there to be someone new or interesting. 

Age range: 25-30

Your eyebrow cocked as you looked onto the screen, pulling the slider more to the right experimentally. No one was here to see you, and even though it was slightly embarassing to be interested in older men, you’d be lying if you said it didn’t pique your interest to imagine it. Even just to try, and see, if they ever really did grow up. You imagined it was wishful thinking, but increased the range anyways.

Age range: 35-45

Feeling the need to throw your phone across the room after doing that, you placed it face down under your pillow and slid out of bed. No use in swiping through them now, and you were getting tired of looking. A pint of Ben and Jerry’s and a new episode of your favourite show was waiting for you downstairs.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾

Joel Miller does not use dating apps.

He barely knows how to send a text on his phone, let alone navigate the world of online women. Not to say he didn’t explore the options, so to speak, but they usually were not ones that were single, his age, and in his area. Unless the ads on those sites were real, that is.

“It’s starting to get sad,” Sarah had remarked at breakfast, when they got on the topic, and Joel feigned hurt. Hand over his heart, he dropped his fork onto the plate. “It’s not sad, Jesus. I’m just busy, is all.”

“Busy not gettin’ busy,” Sarah remarked, and Joel’s eyes widened. “Hey now! None of that.”

A blush spread up his cheeks and ears as they continued to eat breakfast in slightly awkward silence, before Joel took his plate to the sink. “Okay, off to school, you. And no more conversations about my dating life. Ever.”

Sarah laughed as she finished off the last of the juice in her glass. “I’m just saying, dad. You can if you want to. Might be nice for you.”

Joel planted a soft kiss to her head before she bounded out the door, rolling his eyes and calling out a ‘love you’ before she closed the door swiftly behind her. Joel stared at his cell phone on the table. Maybe it would be nice.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾

The following evening, you were a little too excited to see the dating app specimens you had acquired. Not sure what to expect, really, and you went in with no expectations. It’s not like they’d magically all be tall, dark, and handsome, but some variety never killed anybody.

Paul, 41

Daddy, but not yours. No libs allowed. 6’ because that matters.

You sighed deeply. Some things never change. 

After swiping through much of what you were used to, a profile managed to catch your eye among the sea of disappointment.

Joel, 45

Just a Southern gentleman trying this out for the first time. Contractor of over 10 years. I love my daughter, BBQ, strong coffee, and sleeping in. 

Now that was the most interesting thing you’d seen in a while.

He didn’t look a day over 40. His eyes creased at the corners when he smiled wide in his photos. He looked tan, a product of the Texas heat and his job, you thought. His features were accompanied by salt-and-pepper facial hair and messy curls that looked soft and pliable. His photos showed off his physique incredibly, tight wash-worn t-shirts pulling over his arms and shoulders, looking big, broad. He was no doubt the most handsome man you’d seen on an app, maybe ever.

When you swiped right before you could think too hard, you were surprised to see the green “Match!” Flash across your screen.

Your fingers ghosted over the keyboard on your phone, thinking of a witty thing to say, probably for too long.

Your phone buzzed as you saw a notification pop up.

Joel has sent you a message.

Hey, darlin’. How are ya?

You felt your face warm at the sweet message, when was the last time someone had called you darlin’? Ever?

Hey cowboy. I’m great, how are you?

He was certainly an eager responder, taking only a few seconds to reply. You found yourself smiling down at your phone screen.

Cowboy… I like that. I’m better now that I’m talking to you.

Oh, Joel, who told you to say that? 😂

No good?

Not bad. 6/10. 

Only 6/10? I’ll work on it. I like to think I’m better in person. 

I would love to find out. 

You found yourself emboldened by how easy the conversation was flowing. Joel was certainly easy to talk to, easier than the other matches you had going for you, and infinitely more handsome.

Oh, would you? Alright. I’d love to take you to dinner sometime. If you don’t mind being seen with an old man such as myself in public. Or meeting a stranger from the internet.

He’s a very handsome stranger. I would love to go to dinner with you. Know any good spots? I’m new around here.

There’s a great barbecue spot in downtown Austin. If you’d prefer something fancier, let me know.

I love bbq. Just tell me where and when, cowboy.

Tomorrow, 7pm ok?

You sent him your phone number in the message. Fuck it.

Sounds great. Text me the address, I’ll be there. :)

Joel’s reply didn’t come. Instead, a text appeared at the top of your screen with an unknown number. 

It’s Joel. This the right number?

Yup. You found me.

Great. Talk tomorrow sweetheart. Looking forward to it. :)

He texted you the address of the restaurant, right before you opened the contact card, saving his name as “cowboy ♡”.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾

Cowboy. Cowboy. Cowboy. It was playing over in his head like a broken fuckin’ record. 

Joel was positively freaking out about this date.

Sarah had managed to secure a sleepover at her friend’s place, so the house would be empty for the night. He had been busying himself with cleaning the entirety of the house, even taking the time to mow the grass before work and vacuum the family room. He can’t remember the last time he vacuumed anywhere.

Would she even make it back here? How does this work? Will she want to sleep over or hang out on the couch or should he be making a dessert for after?

His mind was brought out of it’s craze by Sarah jumping down the stairs. She plopped her bag down on the freshly wiped countertop.

“Careful,” he warned, putting a hand up. “I just cleaned that off.”

“I can tell. It smells like the cleaning aisle threw up in here.”

He smirked before patting her head with his hand, as she aggressively smoothed out her hair. “Dad! Don’t!”

“When do you wanna go to Ellie’s?” He asked, more gaging how long he has left to get ready than actually asking.

“Probably soon. Why? Tryna get rid of me?” she poked her dad in the side, but when she flinched away instead, a large smile spread across her face. He was tense.

“What’s your deal?” Joel hated the way she knew him so well sometimes.

“Nothing.“

“Are you going on a date?”

Silence fell over the kitchen between the two of them, as Joel’s shoulders slumped in defeat. “How did you know?”

“Oh my god, you actually took my advice,” Sarah laughed, watching her dad’s face burn red with embarrassment. “Just don’t do anything weird on communal surfaces, please.”

Joel shook his head at her suggestion, already becoming annoyed with the whole prospect. He was so nervous, about what to wear, how to act, what the expectation was… let alone, what would happen if they made it back to his place at all. 

Although, when he was able to shake his nerves for a second, he was just really fucking excited.

“Wear those dark jeans, and that green shirt you wore to Tommy’s last week. Looks good on you.” Sarah smiled as she put her arms around Joel’s middle, while his worries melted away with her touch. “She’ll love you, I promise.”

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾

It had been such a long time since you’d been on a proper date, you were starting to lose your mind at the simple process of deciding what to wear.

Clothes were strewn across every surface of your apartment, shoes matching with jeans that matched with cardigans, tops that matched with belts and jackets.

It’s 87 degrees at 5 o’clock, idiot. You’re not wearing a jacket. Relax.

Exhausted of picking out outfits and making decisions, you collapsed on your couch and took a look at your options. You landed on an easy sundress, putting the rest of your clothes back in their respective drawers, and pulling out all of the products you were expecting to use to get ready.

You scrolled through your phone aimlessly as a notification bubble popped up on the screen.

We still on for tonight darlin’? Or did you change your mind?

No worries if you did. I respect that.

You let out a cackle at the message, thinking about how he must look right now. Was he nervous? Scared? Was he just looking for a controversially young fuck?

You weren’t… completely against that.

Didn’t change my mind, wouldn’t in a million years :)

Meet you there. Can’t wait to see you.

His eagerness to meet up would’ve been a red flag if it were any other run of the mill guy, but something about Joel felt special. There didn’t seem to be any funny business with him; too sincere to try anything other than just a good old fashioned date.

You too, cowboy.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾

When Joel showed up at the restaurant, he clenched a small bouquet of pink peonies in his right hand and checked his watch obsessively. The minutes ticked away, as he kept a high alert for anyone who could be his potential date. He knew what you looked like, of course, but this being his first time doing anything of this sort is making him hyperaware of anything going awry.

When he does lay eyes on you, his whole gaze softens. A pink sundress, hair pristinely styled and a bounce in your step that reminded him of summer. You looked like an angel, the sunset behind you painting the sky tangerine, which reflected off of the shine against your supple skin. So young, beautiful, it was taking his breath away.

“Joel?”

Your voice matched your sweet demeanour, and he was taken out of his waking daydream.

“Hi,” is all he can say, letting his breath out as he relaxed. “Yes, hi, sorry. I’m Joel.”

“Hi,” you laugh back, eyes darting to the flowers in his hand. They matched your dress.

“These are for you,” he gets the hint, extending his arm out, and you can see the veins bulging in his forearm. He looked so much stronger in person, it was making your knees go weak.

“Thank you, wow,” you held them up to your nose to smell the sweet aroma. “I love peonies.”

“Me too,” he smiled, showing off a string of pearly white teeth, that contrasted with the pink of his lips and the even tan of his skin.

“Shall we?” He extended his arm to you for you to grab onto, and you got to feel the warmth of his skin for yourself. Your hand wrapped around his forearm as he opened the door of the restaurant for you, leading you inside and catching a glimpse of the backs of your thighs as you walked in front of him.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾

When you were finally sitting, the conversation flowed easily. He was truly a Southern gentleman, like he had said. It wasn’t normal for you to open up so quickly, but Joel was so easy going and smart, he asked the right questions and knew when to listen. He knew how to listen, a warm gaze and a nod along, asking follow up questions to your answers and easily getting to know you.

You asked about his daughter, his family, his work. He was happy to tell you. 

“So, what’s a man like you doing being single in this city?” You take a sip of the wine in the glass in front of you, burgundy staining your bottom lip. 

He takes a bite of the food in front of him, a napkin pressing to his lips quickly after. “Been busy,” he started to say, honey brown eyes meeting yours for a second. His gaze sent an electrifying pulse down your spine.

“And, well, when Sarah’s mom left there was a ton to do,” he says it nonchalantly, as if that should be something normal to happen. “House, work, school, she keeps my hands full. Hasn’t been a lot of time.” His syrupy drawl is pulling you in, you’re enticed by the way he speaks to you. So easy, warm, soft. You wonder what his hands feel like on your body, lips pressed to your neck, torso pressed against yours.

“Sorry, that’s a lot of information for a first date,” he laughs to cover the awkwardness, and quietly curses himself for going into so much detail about his precarious family situation and basically admitting to you that he hasn’t fucked anything other than his hand in the last 5 or so years.

“No, it’s okay,” you slide your hand across the table, palm up, urging him to slot his hand into it. He takes it, easily, enveloping yours. His fingers find the pulse point on your wrist. You let your eyes drift up to his, drinking in the way his chest fills out the shirt he chose.

“What’s your story?” He asks earnestly, giving your hand a squeeze. “Can’t imagine there isn’t a long line of people outside waiting to take my place, darlin’.”

You blush furiously at the nickname, and let your eyes meet his once again. “You have no idea the… mess that is out there,” the wine is calling your name to take another sip at the mere thought, but you refrain. “Certainly not too many I am interested in.”

“So, is that why you’re on a date with an old man on a beautiful summer night in Austin?”

You could tell Joel, in a twisted way, liked that you were younger than him. It made him feel younger by admission, that you’d want to spend time with him. 

“You’re not that much older,” you laugh, not even believing it yourself as the words left your lips. “And I like to try new things. Don’t you like trying new things, sometimes?”

It was his turn to let his face go red at your insinuation. If only you knew how ‘new’ this really was for him, how much he was pushed out of his comfort zone right now.

You didn’t notice. 

A little more polite small talk and exchanging of stories was all you could take before the tension was becoming too much. After another glass of wine and a shared plate of sky-high chocolate cake for dessert, you were enjoying his company and could tell he was enjoying yours all the same. When you met his gaze again, hands still intertwined, you could tell there was a question on the tip of his tongue.

“Would you want to…“ - a nervous pause, with a halo of lust - “come back to mine for a nightcap? I’ve got an empty house this evening.”

You couldn’t help but smirk, knowing in your heart that Joel must’ve made arrangements for his family not to be home in anticipation. He had to have planned for you, known in his heart you’d say yes.

“I’d love that.”

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾

Joel’s home is unmistakably him. It smells like a pine candle that sits near the front door and a faint aroma of laundry detergent. There’s photos everywhere, him and his daughter, his brother’s family. Big windows were letting in the twinkling lights of the city outside, the inky sky making them look brighter against its canvas.

“You have a beautiful home,” you say, although it seems a little formal for the situation. What else do you say to a grown-up in their house?

“Thank you,” he takes a bottle of whiskey from the bar cart and pours two rock glasses, handing you one. He flicks on a lamp, ambient light filling the room and painting his skin amber orange, as he joins your side by his kitchen table.

“I did a lot of the construction myself, the decorations are my daughter.” He points lazily to the trinkets on the shelves and photos on the wall. “I don’t really have a good eye for that type of stuff.” 

You take a sip from the drink and it coats your throat, burning down as you suppress a cough at the taste. You nod along as he explains the design choices he made in the home, and you play along, knowing it’s likely out of anxiety.

“What about upstairs?”

Your eyes are innocent as they meet his, although you understand the implication you’re making whole-heartedly. He puts his glass down on the kitchen table and you follow his lead, his strong hand around your wrist as he leads you up the stairs wordlessly.

“It’s not anything,” - he clears his throat - “special,” he shows you around the second floor, finishing at the door of his bedroom that has been left slightly ajar. 

You step in quietly, leading him inside as you take in the bedroom. Neatly folded clothes, a made bed that looks well loved. Blue sheets and fluffy pillows, big bay windows that let the moonlight in.

“I think it’s nice,” you say simply, letting yourself turn around to meet his broad frame. He looks down at you slightly, eyes meeting yours as your hand drops from his grasp and snakes around his neck. His hands come up the sides of your dress, pulling it up slightly, but landing on your waist.

“Is this okay?” He asks tentatively in the dark of the room, his lips so close to yours already you can practically taste the whiskey on his lips for yourself. You answer him by pressing your tentative lips to his, slotting them together easily.

Joel’s grip on your waist tightens momentarily as he takes you in, pulling you as close as he possibly can. He can smell the perfume on your neck and the wine on your lips from earlier, and it’s making his need for you increase tenfold. 

You pull him into you as you stumble back to let your knees hit his mattress, sitting down and letting your hands come to his belt buckle. Your hands came to undo it as he pulled his t-shirt off to throw onto the floor beside him, bending down to help you pull the dress over your shoulders to meet his t-shirt.

You made quick work of his jeans, pushing them to the ground and looking up at him with a keen glance. You could see the breath making his belly rise and fall, anticipating your touch on him any second.

When your hand wrapped around the base of his cock, his breath hitched and his head rolled back. He was already half-hard only from kissing you, so a few pumps made him easily ready for your mouth.

“You’re so big,” is all you can think to say, head spinning from the sheer size of him right in front of your face. Your mouth watered at the way his hand palmed through your hair, pulling you in closer to him for some relief.

It was intoxicating to him, the way your mouth fit around his cock. Such a beautiful sight to see, your head licking and sucking at his tip, gathering spit there to lubricate him. His knees were going weak as he watched intently, no thought able to cross his mind, other than maybe how long it had been since he’d had anyone to do this with. He was going to have to pace himself if it was all like this.

Your mouth constrained around the length of him, taking him deeper and deeper with every bob of your head. Filthy sounds were filling the room now, of your eager mouth pulling him in as best you could. His hand stayed steady at the back of your head, not pushing, just softly pressed there for support. His other hand found your shoulder, pushing down your bra strap.

“God, darlin’,” was all he could choke out, using his hand to pull you off of him. Your hand lazily stroked him as you looked up at him, spit collecting at the corners of your mouth. “I’m not gonna last long if you keep doin’ that,” his laugh eased some of the tension in the room, as you took your other hand and wiped the spit away.

He leaned down, pressing a fervent kiss to your lips before using his own hands to unclasp your bra and let your breasts free. His lips traveled to the side of your neck, before he was kneeled down between your legs, sucking your nipple into his mouth. He lapped at you, all consuming, as his hand came up to grasp the other breast that wasn’t being serviced. He moaned at the noises you were making, lewd whines into the night air that only encouraged him. 

His lips made their way down your body to your clothed centre, your back against his soft sheets. You looked down at him intently, watching as he pulled your panties down your legs and immediately delved into your pussy with broad strokes of his tongue.

Your body jerked upwards at the contact, hand fisting the sheet beside you as he lapped at you, like a man starved. His expert tongue found your clit easily, sucking and licking at you for what felt like hours. You thought about his heavy cock between his legs, begging to be touched, hard as ever as he licked at you desperately.

“Joel,” you whined out, feeling your hand reach down to grab at his curls and push him deeper into you. That only made him moan, one hand lazily fisting his cock as the other came up to dip a finger into you, allowing you to see stars when you screwed your eyes shut.

His fingers were so large, pressed into your core as you fucked yourself on them and his tongue in tandem. He was groaning and grunting, and you hoped his neighbours couldn’t see into the window at the desperate filth that was going on in his bedroom.

“Fuck, Joel, please,” you begged, but he had no mercy, and your orgasm was creeping up on you. He was ready to watch you come undone, pushing a second finger into you and furiously sucking on your clit. His other hand left his own pleasure and wrapped around your breast, pressing and playing with the hard nub there, pinching to provide a little bit of sting to it. It was sending you into another dimension.

“Come for me, sweetheart,” and his voice is gravely and debauched, enough to send you into your first orgasm, chanting his name and pulling on his hair. He was happily licking at you, fingers still pressing in and out as to not mess up the rhythm, as you rode out your orgasm against his face. 

When you started to come down, he finally detached himself from you before standing up between your legs and pressing his broad palms to your thighs. He stayed there for a moment, cock still hard and heavy between his legs as you gazed up at him, out of breath from his work.

“You’re really good at that,” was all you could think to say, head clouded with arousal. You moved up on the bed a little, opening your legs and pressing your knees apart to show your pussy to him again.

“Please fuck me, Joel,” you breathe out, letting your hand find your own clit to rub it teasingly for him. It was still so sensitive, but the way he was looking down at you, eyes dark and stormy with need, you could almost come again just from that.

He put a knee down on the bed and crawled on top of you, his lips finding yours once again as your hands found his face. You held him there, savouring the kiss as his tongue crashed against yours, all warmth and spit and the taste of you. His hand found your breast and continued to play with your nipples, softly, coaxing more moans into his mouth from yours.

He leaned back and slipped his cock inside of you, filling you up immediately and making you gasp. He groaned into the side of your neck, tonguing the side of your ear and kissing you feverishly as he pumped in and out of you.

Your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him impossibly close, your moans filling the room as he rocked in and out of you. He kissed your jaw and chest, before reaching down between your bodies and pressing his thick finger to your clit again, using the wetness there to draw circles around your sensitive nub.

“So pretty,” he smiles into your neck, your hand on the back of his, playing with the now-sweaty strands of hair on the nape. “So pretty for me, taking my cock,” the dirty talking is welcome as he continues to bring you closer to a second orgasm, your breath hitching once again.

“Come inside of me,” you say it like a whisper, a secret in the stillness of the room, and Joel is unsure he even heard you correctly.

“Are you sure?” He says it not accusingly, but in a way that conveys he feels like he just won the lottery.

“Yes, please, fill me up.”

You can see the way his eyes darken more, shifting so he’s on his knees and using your body to fuck himself on his thick cock. His hand continued to play with your clit, bringing you so close to your orgasm that tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. His cheeks were getting hot as he thrusted in and out furiously, and you could almost see the stress melt off of his face as he came close to his own undoing.

The white-hot feeling washes over you once again, eyes shutting before you’re back on your elbows and watching intently. Your whole body feels like it’s on fire as his thrusts become sloppy, your name pouring out of his lips like a prayer. You’re clenching around him and letting him ride out his high alongside you, slowing after his hot cum coats your walls and leaves you full of him.

He collapses on top of you, cock softening inside as you both catch your breath together. Your chests are sticky with sweat as you breathe, taking in the smell of him, and the feel of his warmth on your body.

He pulls himself from you and flops beside you, still taking a moment to admire you. You look over at him, a lazy smile on your face as your hand reaches out to caress the skin of his chest. He takes the time to run his fingertips up your arms and back as you lay there in silence together, just soaking in the moment in a post-sex glow.

“I guess I should get going,” you say after a few beats, sitting up to grab your dress off the floor. You cringe at the thought of throwing your underwear on and leaving, this being just another random hookup for you that never lead to anything. Joel was sweet.

A confused look spreads across his features and his brows knit together, before sitting up next to you at the edge of the bed.

“I mean, I don’t know how these things usually go,” he laughs, as his hand finds your lower back. “But you don’t gotta run outta here like a scared animal or somethin’.”

You look up at him again, unsure of what to do next. In your, albeit limited, experience with dating app hookups, you were expected to leave pretty much right after.

“Oh, um,” you look around the room at the soft worn-in sheets and the TV across from Joel’s bed. You take a look at him again, your eyes meeting his to match his gaze, where you can tell he’s mentally begging that you’ll stay the night.

“I mean, if you don’t mind, I’d be happy to stay.” Joel smiled lopsidedly and let his hand rub soothing circles at your lower back. 

“I’ll make it worth your while,” he laughs, stepping over to go into the bathroom and warm up a cloth for the mess spilling out from between your legs. “I wouldn’t mind wakin’ up and doing all that again tomorrow.”

You laugh and lay back onto his bed as he presses the warm cloth to your pussy, his lips once again finding yours to pull you in for a sweet kiss. 

You nod, sliding between the comfortable sheets as Joel runs downstairs to grab your abandoned drinks as well as a couple of bottles of ice cold water. He slips into the sheets next to you, not bothering to throw on any pajamas (not that you were complaining), and settling in beside you. After a few gulps of water, you nestled into his chest and let your hand find his tummy, resting on it as you listened to the even pattern of his breath.

“We should do this again. Like, after tomorrow morning.” you say quietly as you’re drifting in and out of sleep. His fingertips continues to slide across your arm and give you goosebumps as you snuggled closer into him, hearing a laugh exhale out of his nose and feeling a kiss press to the top of your head. 

In his sleepy, deep southern drawl, he replies. “Don’t have to ask me twice, darlin’.”

[v0idim]

Idk where the art is someone drop the art credit in the comments 🙌😜

Small Encounters

Itadori Yuji x Reader

!Basketball College AU!

You walk out of class and see Itadori ready to pick you up. What is he doing here?

2/?

☆*:.｡. o(Second Small Encounter)o .｡.:*☆

You walk up to Itadori's car, watching the tinted glass roll down. "Pleasure seeing you again, but why are you here?" You hunched over so your head would be in view of the window. Itadori smiled showing off his pearly white teeth at you, getting out of the drivers side, grabbing your bag and placing it in the back seat before opening the passenger door for you.

"I told you I was going to pick you up. Wheres the gratitude L/n?" He chuckled a bit before ushering you into the car. "I have a game today and I have to be there in an hour. I don't want to rush you but I really do have to get ready soon." You stared at him in confusion, thinking to yourself 'Why would he pick me up if he has somewh-' your thoughts get interrupted as Itadori begins to ramble again.

"Can I get ready at your place? I'll take you to the game, Nobara said you were coming so why not just come with me to the game. We're both going to the same place, less gas, better for the environment ya know. Don't want these happy trees to wither up because I decided to drive around my car. You get me?" Your mouth gapes as you stare at him. He sheepishly smiles at you.

"No offense Itadori, but I just met you and you already want to come to my apartment? You seem chill but are you sure you want to come to my place?" You strapped on your seat belt, you really wouldn't mind his company. You make a mental note to text Kugisaki that someone else is giving you a ride to the game, you'll just meet her there.

"If you're fine with it, I would love to get ready at your place! I really do wanna get to know you more L/n" You sat in your own thoughts for a while as he started the car, feeling the engine pur beneath you. He handed you his phone so you can type in your address into the maps app.

'He's not a bad guy right? What's the worse he could do? I would like to get to know him better too. Everything is gonna be fine.' You thought to yourself. Looking out the window as the cars seem to blur right pass you.

After some time, you arrive to your apartment, you show him to the parking garage that lies beneath the complex. Having rich siblings was a great benefit because they seemed to pay for the expenses that were out of your budget, for example, your apartment.

"Woah I didn't know you were rich like that dude. This garage is so dope and it's only the parking garage!" He slightly glances over to you as he pulls into one of the guest parking spots.

"Eh I'm not rich, I don't pay for my apartment." This confused Itadori a bit, he shrugged it off as he went over to your side of the car and opened the door. After you exited the car, he went to the back seat and collected his and your bags. "But anyways, you have a nice car! Probably cost a fortune." Matching Itadori's pace, his long strides were hard to keep up with but you managed.

"My sensi bought it for me. He's hella rich! He bought it for me when I became a starter on the basketball team" Once again, Itadori had managed to shook you again. Leaving you in confusion as you enter the elevator door. You pressed the 6th floor and stood in a nice peaceful silence as the soft jazz played in the background of the elevator.

"So what position do you play?" The elevator dings, you watch the doors open slowly. Stepping out and grabbing the keys to your apartment out of your bag.

"I'm a point guard, but I'm pretty good at all positions." He stretches his arms over his head, cockiness lingered in his tone. "I've been playing since grade school, so many years ago I dont remeber the age I actually started playing." You arrived to your apartment, unlocking the door and letting Itadori in first since he was carrying quite a few bags.

"Dude your place is sick." He wonders around the kitchen and living room after placing the bags down near a chair. He looks at all the pictures you have around your living area, all the trophies you had on display. "Who's B/n? And damn are they good at volleyball! National champions is so impressive!" You walk towards Itadori, placing your slippers on your feet.

"That's my brother, not sure if you heard of him but he plays Volleyball professionally." You grabbed a small rag and cleaned off any smudges the trophy had. Since your siblings were always away you only had small memories of them.

"WAIT DAWG YOU'RE THE LEGENDARY B/N SISTER?" He grabs your shoulders and shakes you violently, Itadori had seem to become comfortable around you... and you were glad.

"Yea, I don't tell many people about it." You rub the back of your nape as he loses his grip around your shoulders. "Too much attention and some people take advantage of me having a 'famous' brother" You sighed as you walked over to the fridge. Silently mumbling some words to yourself, wanting the topic to change from your brother and his achievements to something else.

"What do you want to drink?" You yell over your shoulder towards itadori who was now sitting at the small dinner table that stood in the middle of the dining room.

"You have hi-c or redbull?" he yelled back slightly, turning his head to the side. His eyes land on the upright steinway and sons piano that leaned against the wall. You walk in with many juice boxes of Hi-c fruit punch, just incase Itadori wanted more. "Yo L/n" you hummed in response. "You play piano?" You slightly nod your head, walking back into the kitchen to grab some protein bars and snacks for Itadori.

Once you sit down, he calls out your name, grabbing your attention. "Can you play something for me?" Although you always hear this question, it always makes you nervous. Itadori notice you tense up a bit. "You don't have to play if you want though!" he grabs a juice box and stabs the straw in the top of the box.

"Its fine, I have to practice playing in front of people more anyways." You wipe the sweat on your pants before taking a seat on the piano bench. "Anything you want to hear?" You glance over your shoulder at Itadori, he had move closer to you, pulling up a chair right behind you.

"Play runway by Kanye!" He crossed his legs on the chair, now sitting cris-cross, as he watched your every move precisely. You pressed the E key on the piano, then letting your fingers run across to play the song. Letting your fingers glide across the keys like butter. Itadori watched in silence, amazed by your captivating skills. The song comes to end end, turing your body to face him.

"So did you like it? I messed up a little. It's been a while since I played that, sorry." I gave him a tight lipped smile. He had his mouth slightly open.

"L/n.... that was so beautiful." His voice was a meer whisper. "You're playing is so beautiful and elegant." He locked eyes with you. "I saw you walk out of the music building. Do you major in music?" Itadori seemed interested in you career, which was rare to you. Kugisaki hates it when you talk to her about music, but Itadori seemed to actually pay attention.

"Yea, I'm a Jazz studies Major. Nothing flashy but it's pretty neat." You stand up from the bench, walking over to the dinning table and grabbing a juice box.

"Do you have a concert or something coming up? I would love to see you play again." He followed you arond with his gaze.

"Yea I have a recital in three weeks. You should come!" You look at the time on your phone. it was 4:36 "Um.. Itadori what time do you have be at the gym?" You looked at him, once again you were running late.

"I gotta be there at 5, Why?" He pulls out his phone to check the time. "Oh my god! Where's your bathroom I have to change!" He rushes around your apartment.

"Its down that hall to the left. Im going to get ready real quick, knock on my door when you're ready to leave!" You walk into your room, slipping into a different outfit before putting on some more chapstick and a light layer of mascara. You fix your hair and put on new socks, opening the door of your room. You walk into the living room and see Itadori slipping on his slides, he was wearing his basketball shorts and a black hoodie. "I'm almost ready, let me just put on my shoes." You tell Itadori as you sit on the floor, shoving your foot into your shoe aggressively. You walk to the kitchen counter and grab your keys, a pack of gum, some water, and a hair tie. After grabbing all your necessities you walk out the door.

"Okay let's go, do you mind if we drive fast?" Itadori says in a rushed manner, you finish locking the door. Speed walking to the elevator as Itadori just takes longer strides.

"Nope, as long as you make it on time." You decide to take the stairs instead. It would be faster and its good for cardio. Itadori takes the lead as he skips multiple steps at a time, you rushing behind him. Finally making it into the parking garage, he unlocks his car with a click. Opening the passenger door for you, you let out a small thank you as you get into the car. He enters into the drivers side, throwing his bag to the back and starts the car.

"Just making sure, you're fine if I speed right?" Itadori quickly pulls out of the garage, heading onto the highway towards the school.

"Yes I'm fine with it, now step on it bro!" The car roars loudly as he shifts gears, the lights from the outside turn into flashing streaks. You take a look at the speedometer and see Itadori is going 110 MPH/177 KMH.

You make it to the school campus in a blink of an eye. 4:56. Just on time. You and Itadori rush into the gym, you take a seat on the bleachers, watching your pink hair friend lace up his shoes.

Suddenly your phone rings. Looking at the contact name, your heart drops a little.

INCOMING CALL : NOBARA

A/N

Sorry for the short chapter :( Anyways I hoped you like the ff so far. IK THEYRE MOVING KINDA FAST BUT TRUST ME IT WILL SLOW DOWN

[beansnpeets]

Hi friends. Personal stuff under the cut, as per usual. I may be asking for dating advice. 😬

How flirt??? How do I make it clear to a man that I would like to Smooch And Stuff Maybe?? Without explicitly telling him??

I would very much not normally ask this kind of thing here, but I do not know who to talk to about it. I already talked to my bestie and she is bolder than I and has more or less told me to just suck it up and tell him, but uh. I don wanna 😵‍💫 because FEAR.

I have been out of the game for so long. The apps were already getting bad when I met Jon more than 6 years ago, but I hear they are Super bad now and I'm not really interested in wasting my time. I already have my eye on SDG, obvs. It would be NICE to do a little dating before I get into something with him, but I already know I am not meeting anyone anytime soon so I may as well just skip that part since it isn't important to me, just could be fun. I am pretty sure he likes me back, but he is being RESPECTFUL and giving me space post-breakup with Jon and I have already been dropping hints at him, but perhaps it's just not clear enough.

I gifted him a photo album with a few photos he had mentioned once he wanted printed out and I hand-wrote a note thanking him for the help moving and letting me be a part of the kennel and I signed it "yours, Blair 💙" and he messaged me afterward "I love it 💙 lol", and said it was a good trade for the collar he gave me for Rollei (he also gave me a hoodie with his new kennel logo on it, which I did not order, he ordered one for me specifically and gifted it to me) and idfk where to go from that. Everything since then has been normal. He DID linger and follow me around a little last weekend when I was there to brush dogs again. We usually end up chatting whenever I am there, it's always been like that from day 1. I have told him stuff I haven't talked with a lot of people about, in terms of my family garbage. He has told me some of his also. He was one of few people I told about Jon before I bought the house. And every time we talked after that he asked me if I had "had the difficult conversation yet" (dumping him).

Anyway, yeah idk how to flirt with this guy. I am getting a failing grade in Flirt I think. I had an opportunity to make a move last time I was there, but I was too chicken to be that bold. Might try next time, but idk if I can get up the nerve.

And here is the tmi/nsfw part pls don't perceive, but I need to get it out.

I know it is quite soon still, after Jon. I was trying to leave Jon for more than a year, though. I was ready to get out a while ago. Um but I am really craving that partnership and companionship that comes with a relationship but also I would reeeeeally appreciate getting laid sometime soon because I haven't for MANY MONTHS and now that I am free from the tension of my ex I am finding I do in fact have a libido. But, again, I ain't meeting anyone here. I don't like bars and there isn't exactly a roaring dating scene for 30+ people in this tiny town. Unless I wanna go after older men, but.....ew.

Like idk where to meet people? There is no recreation here!! And I'm not just chasing SDG because he's around my age, single, a dog person, and convenient. We get along well and I am interested to get to know him and see what this could be. Also VERY attractive man. Ngl. God. The one day I showed up there and he was doing chores with his shirt off and WOWIE I melted. And those hazel eyes 😍😍

But anyway. Um. Yeah. So. I am A Yearning Mess right now and have been super unsure how to deal with it. I am terrified to be too bold, but I am thinking maybe that is the next step here. Idk how much time he is going to give me post-Jon or if he is just going to wait for me to make a move anyway to be respectful. I am tired of chasing men, I would like to be pursued by someone I like just once 😮‍💨

[cconfusedkat]

Hello. Please don't feel required to answer this publicly or anything of the sorts, at most read it. I'm not sure if you remember us, if memory serves correctly I used to date one of your alters. but I found a bunch of our ex friends usernames and all that in our notes app and instructions for us to reach out in case our host goes officially dormant and apologize. Well that's happened. I figured I'd try tumblr first so I made this new account just for this. If I have the wrong user my deepest apologies. I just wanted to apologize to you on behalf of our ex host, he's done awful things to us and I assume you as well. Around the time before he went dormant we had been basically put into two sides of our system and we're put against eachother, I was on the opposite side of his. For a short while I was on his but later on "switched sides". He had attempted to manipulate us all into thinking what he was doing was normal and had even threatened the body's safety if we didn't do what he had wanted.. which led to me faking his dormancy and him having us run off of our main account on twitter at the time. This had turned into our mental health, especially his, rapidly declining. This, resulted in his dormancy. To be quite honest we're all relieved he's dormant. I just hope you see our side and forgive us, while our ex host can't apologize for what he did, we are taking accountability as a system for what he did and letting him do it. If you can't find it in your soul to forgive us, especially him, I understand. Please have a good day and everything else. - 🎞️

this ask was enough to give me a panic attack. i hope that gives you your answer on wether or not id forgive the rest of you.

i retyped this OVER and OVER but i cant genuinely express the fear instilled into me. from preventing me trusting all my friends, struggling with dms and keeping close relatjonships, being scared of. Every. Single. Person. I interact with.

and wondering if I should forgive you? your ex.host? the proshipper who engaged on tcctwt and encouraged minors for shotacon stuf? the motherfucker that traumatized his own system and has the lot of you mentally scarred? the man who gives my very own brother meltdowns from remembering the friendship he had with him? the man who i had a relationship with and regretted every single fukckign day of those nine momths? the man who we bogh encouraged our mentally ill bejaviors towards onr another? the man who i struggle to get over bevause everything i do is correspondent to him? leaving me and my brother mentally scarred because.of him?the man who ruined mh social life because i cant fuckign cope and heal with the immense betrayal there was of finding that twitter thread made about him?

im sorry he was a piece of shit to you all i knew something was up in the beginning. but i. I cant forgive you guys. not even him.

actions can be explained. trauma responses can be explained. but i will never—EVER—EVER FORGIVE HIM FOR THE SHIT HES CAUSED FOR THE OTHER CHILDREN. ME. MY BROTHER WHOS THE SAME AGE AS THOSE CHILDREN. GOD KNOWS WHAT ELSE HES FUCKING CAUSED HUH

you will never understand the pain ive been put through because of him. im not just someone behind a screen. my social skills worsened, my trust issues worsened, everything worsened for me bevause the one true person i thought was a perfect match for me ends up a pedophilic fucker and betrays me beyond belief. i knew since day one may 2023 that was my biggest mistake of meeting him.

ill never be the same again. ill never remember who i was in the past. you sending this ask aleady fuckign triggered me to think about him again and freak out. im sorry that happened to you guys but im never fogiving him nor your system.

please never show up here again. not through an alt account. never cyberstalk me. nothing. none of that. i dont want your pity. i dont wany any other explanation. nothing of it.

i just need to lay down and go to the nurse.

[callmejudgement]

UA University Script

About Me

Name: Mako 魔子

Trickmaster hero – Miss.Magician

Age: 18

Birthday: ??? Letting fate decide fr.

Height: 5ft 7in

Quirk: Magician - which provides me with 8 tricks to fool reality. Flame jumping,illusions, historical projections, damage transfer, steel card, air bullets, paper figurine substitutes, underwater breathing trick (more on my quirk here)

Physical abilities: incredible balance, coordination, flexibility and agility. Danger intuition.

Backstory: I literally just grew up in a happy family. Living rich and lavish. My dad is a retired top pro hero and my mom is an underground hero that works for the government. I have an older sister following in my mom’s footsteps and older brother whom is a researcher. My family often trains together and we do a lot of family activities together. I’ve been friends with Shinso since middle school and I was close with Shotō for like a year in elementary school. We’re literally twins with our heterophobia and dual color hair 👁️👅👁️.

My goal in this reality it literally to be my silliest, most autistic self. Literally me if I never started masking so people wouldn’t call me weird.

Plot (or the lack there of)

The war arc doesn’t happen. I’m not dealing with allat.

Bakugou doesn’t get kidnapped and faces appropriate consequences for his actions and behavior (I’m talking about him being a bully).

The other students quirks are stronger (I hate that Bakugou had it easy. I’m a purebred hater).

Momo was trained and is more skilled at using her quirk (she’s rich why didn’t her parents hire a trainer for her canonically?)

Tenko’s mom leaves with the grandparents and his sister before he loses control. He now attends UA.

OFA is still out there plotting I guess.

Fusions (borrowed idea from priicklleshifts on tiktok).

Overhaul is good and works at UA in support heroes/medical.

Eri is not abused and has a decent relationship with Chisaki even though he is an overworking germaphobe.

Events like the sports festival only starts to happen at the second trimester (bc why tf did it happen on like the 2nd week of school?)

Japan

Due to its high safety and previously low birth rate, Japan now has many immigrants from all over

Super high tech I’m talking holographic screens, robots in the streets, virtual reality, etc

There’s a National and international tournament where schools compete to see who has the best upcoming heroes.

UA

UA is a university because why are them kids fighting?

Amenities

Along with what appears in the anime there is:

A spa on campus that is free for hero course students. They offer normal and medical massages, mud baths, meditation, sauna, steam room, lounge, ice fountain, treatment rooms and other beauty and wellness services (yes, I'm going to abuse this).

There is practically an extra little town on the mountain with the school due to all the school amenities and staff.

Massive library with study rooms n stuff.

Lots of school festivals, dances and other events.

Classes

UA Departments: Hero, Support (fashion, tech, etc), Business, Gen Ed.

There’s home room which is where you spend most of your time. We do gen Ed and hero law stuff with our home room.

Students can take any electives ranging from costume design to home ec, Solo training to costume engineering.

Students are encouraged to try out things through electives and clubs.

There are free lifestyle classes on weekends so you can take a quick class on cooking, sewing, gardening, first aid without the commitment or worry of grades.

Everyone gets a free holographic tablet thing for the schedule, note taking and to access the school app thing.

The app lets us access the dorms if we don’t have a physical I’d on us, order at the school restaurants with free delivery from the campus delivery bots. It’s just has a bunch of handy features.

Class 1A

Shinso replaces mineta.

There are also 5 exchange/international students in our class.

We go on a few international field trips throughout the year.

There’s a pool table and conversation pit in the dorm.

Mina is blasian, Midoriya is half Yemeni and Sero is Latino because I said so.

Merch

School spirit became a big thing with the influence of American immigrants and exchange students (America ya! :D).

UA has school jackets, shirts, jerseys, etc.

The gym uniforms come in different styles and lengths to suit the wearer.

Food

Instead of one lunchroom there are many dining halls around campus. If you’re a boarding student then food is free.

The restaurants have a certain numbers of items you can pick from to create a reasonable meal. Anything extra you have to pay for.

Some of the halls have larger portions or all-you-can-eat to accommodate for stunner quirks and different bodies.

Diverse food culture. (Indian, American, Chinese, Japanese, Mexican and other style foods)

There are mini break rooms around campus for students to relax,study or mingle between classes. They have free snacks (onigiri, chips, fruit, juice,etc).

There are self driving busses that drive students to the area in 10min max.

There’s also food trucks on campus (I am not being greedy. This is 100% necessary).

[bakedbakermom]

Wattpad's New AI-Review System and "The Purge"

source

What's Happening?

The past week or so, there have been reports of user's stories getting shadow-banned (delisted from rankings) and sometimes even removed. This is due to Wattpad's recent deployment of an AI-powered tool used by their support team. (Source) The tool is designed to aid Wattpad in flagging guideline-breaking content with manual reviews of the stories flagged. When a story gets flagged, it is "shadow-banned" (i.e. removed from rankings and searches) until it's been reviewed by staff.

If your story has been removed, you can contact Wattpad Support to appeal the decision.

Also important: Wattpad's "age of consent" rule has been updated. Previously, it followed the Canadian federal law of sixteen (16) years or older. On April 15th, 2024, the guidelines will be updated to reflect the new age of consent requirements of 18+.

That means for content including sexual acts between characters, both characters must be eighteen (18) or older. More tame acts (i.e. kissing, holding hands) between underage (16+ years old) characters is still fine and sex can be alluded to, but may not be described. Please review the News and Updates channel for the full text.

What Is The "Wattpad Purge"?

The "Wattpad Purge" is one of the terms given to Wattpad's recent surge in removing stories.

As mentioned above, the AI tool flags the content for manual review by a human. This simply means that it's the same process as before, just faster. Most likely, users will continue to encounter the same roadblocks they have before - little to no information about why their story was removed, no notification of removal, etc.

If what they said is true, the AI has no connection to the removal of content beyond flagging it.

Is this only targeting LGBT+-related content?

At the moment, this is only a rumor. There are a few reports of non-LGBT+ stories being shadow-banned. However, plenty of authors have reported their LGBT+ stories have been affected. I, personally, have had my LGBT+-related content shadow-banned, though I've noticed my favorite author's are not (albeit, they are popular stories).

What can I do?

Realistically? Not much. Wattpad's support team are notoriously slow and often times actually unhelpful. You can contact Wattpad Support and ask about your works being shadow-banned, but nothing is guaranteed.

But, what you can do - and this is unanimously recommended by old-timers like me - is, please for the love of God, BACK UP YOUR STORIES! It is the most important thing for you to do for any kind of projects, not just writing. Back it up! Save it on a flash drive, the cloud, on an external hard drive, CD, tape, whatever you have! Heck, write it down in a notebook if you have to!

Write it off Wattpad, copy and paste it to there later. (Related: u/Anna__V's "PSA: Don't Write on Wattpad") There are a variety of programs you can use! Microsoft Office (Word online is free), Google Docs, Apple's Pages app, LibreOffice, etc. Someone was even advertising a program they were working on (Sonovel), and it cloud saves! For more recommendations, please check the Writing Resources document.

Forget it, I'm leaving Wattpad!

Looking for alternatives? (Related: Popular platforms that arent as bad as Wattpad) Here's a small list:

RoyalRoad

Inkitt

Tablo

Writer's Cafe

Penana

Archive of Our Own

Important to note: Users will be able to download a copy of your works.

For those looking to move to AO3, please see these related posts: [AO3 Etiquette] | [1] | [2]

[theladymuses]

Author Portrait

get to know the author behind the blog! repost, do not reblog.

Basics

Name/nickname: Wayna Age: 21 Pronouns: she/her Years of writing: 8-ish 

Reflection

Why did you pick up writing? I used to write fanfiction in my notes app at school until one of my friends recommended I post it on Wattpad. I discovered RP-ing on one of those book-comment RP things they used to have on Wattpad. I'm here because of Levi, Esmé and me discovering I wanna be a published author one day, to be honest.

Do you have any writing routines? Not really. I need my laptop (I cannot write on my phone tbh) and sometimes I'll listen to character playlists and/or grab tea, but it's not exactly ritualistic. I do tend to write in bed, though! I look through my notifications here and answer asks, comments etc. while feeding my draft stash, then jump into writing responses!

What's your favorite part about writing? The partners, the headcanons. I LOVE befriending people I write with and then jumping down the rabbit hole of getting to know their portrayal of a character and just,,, rambling. I also really enjoy rambling about dynamics between our characters, or even what my partners think of dynamics with other characters. I JUST LIKE RAMBLING—

Three things you like about your writing:

O1. Character voice. I try to change the style I write in based on character! I alter elements like vocabulary or metaphors to fit the characters and the way they perceive the world based on their lives. For example. Bianca's a forensic expert, so she tends to compare/reference a lot of forensic jargon or make really morbid statements, particularly in her thought process. Also, another example is how Es (in her AOT verse) has never seen the ocean, so I try to be conscious of not using statements/metaphors that reference the ocean because she would have no clue what that'd mean.

O2. Description (?). I'm not sure what else to call it actually, but I like that I (at least try to) paint a setting and body language between dialogue and internal thoughts without dumping them all in one place. I used to do that as a separate paragraph in the past, adding all the surroundings and things and then adding dialogue and inner thoughts, and now I re-read those and find I have much improved in that regard.

O3. That I try to emulate/experiment! I read a lot of novels, fanfiction and, of course, writing from all of you so I get a ton of inspiration and new ideas I want to try my hand at. Like, sometimes I see something described really uniquely or the flow certain writers have that's almost poetic etc. And, so I try to emulate those favourites and see how they feel in my writing. It's fun and experimental and keeps things interesting with even more mundane/routine-type replies that may pop up in threads (that's not to say the whole thread is boring, but one or two replies may pop up with nothing particularly interesting happening, if that makes sense).

A question for the next person

write a question for the next person to answer. once you've answered it, leave a new question for someone else to answer.

Venus's question: What's the most challenging thing and character you've written, and why?

Action. And Bianca.

Action is something I really struggle with! Like, battles and spars and training sequences. I am still trying to improve in writing those and sometimes feel kind of embarrassed when I write threads like that on here instead of discord, but I try to think of it as a challenge and not get too self-conscious.

Bianca has been my most challenging OC, especially in vulnerable settings/threads. This is because she doesn't have an obvious "shell" or facade like Es and Miha do. Es views everything as fake because she's a spy; Miha's selfishness and hedonism overrule just about everything else. It's easier to write them in vulnerable situations because feeling is almost novel to them. They have to let their walls down. Bianca? She's a feeler. She's soft and gentle and caring majority of the time and feels everything very deeply and openly. So, I feel as if I really challenge myself when I write her in a vulnerable settings because, comapred to the others, she has next to no walls. I can't tell if this made any sense LOL.

NEW QUESTION: Are there any authors (published or any of your writing partners) that you try to emulate in your writing? What do you find most fascinating about their writing style?

Tagged by: @predvestnik (I am genuinely so happy???)

Tagging: @longerhuman @moonrisenmuses @calamxty

[the-art-in-arthesia-is-loud]

Immortality

smth i randomly came up with just now, which is why i am WRITING TJIS ON THE SPOT. LIKE I'M NOT WRITING THIS ON MY NOTES APP FIRST OR SMTH I'M JHST. STRAIGHT UP WRITING IT HERE. GOD.

———

Being a God...is definitely nice.

But then immortality comes into the conversation.

And I immediately try to derail the topic.

I guess for my...what was it, nearly six years of being the God of Destruction, I always enjoyed my position as a God in general to begin with. As a God, I can do whatever the fuck I want. It's simple, it's fun.

But there comes the burden of living...forever.

Awhile back, I did talked about this with Callima and Teravolt. Tera said something along the lines of, "Well look at the bright side! At least you won't die twice!" or some shit like that. Like fuck off. It's way more deeper than that.

Because recently, I've been bonding a little more with the people around me. Yeah, crazy, I know. I don't seem like that type of person but I did it! I'm bonding with people more! I'm actually trying to make connections! How fucking wild.

Ars is annoying, Trojan is the most annoying of them all, Primeval is...meh. Shifta is boring, etcetera etcetera...

But if you're going to mention the name Technicolour to me, I'll immediately take interest.

Because honestly, unlike everyone else, there's just something so interesting about him. This guy has me on a chokehold every single goddamn night and I don't know how to feel about that. It's like my brain is constantly rotting because of thinking about him.

Why am I even thinking about that dumbass, anyways?

How...weird.

So fucking weird.

It's not like I like him in that way, but then again, it's weird to even make an assumption like that to begin with.

I don't like men. But I don't recall having a crush on Lumine or Fate like...ever.

Alright. This is actually fucking stupid.

I don't know, maybe it's that stupid smile? Or his cool demeanor? Or...him in general? What the actual fuck?

Whatever. I don't give a shit. I've been pondering on my position as a God lately for some fucking reason. I guess this is all because of Techni. He's probably the only other person who actually gives a shit about me other than Fate, and he even admitted to wanting to be my friend.

I'm literally his first friend to him! What the fuck?!

I always ask myself every night whenever I think back on that conversation, "Why me of all people?" It's just so strange that he'd just...choose a literal God to be his first friend instead of people like Primeval and the other guardians who will actually grow old with you. That's just something I'm questioning for the longest fucking time.

I mean, yeah, Techni does has Primeval and everyone else as his friends, but his first friend was me. Destonio! The God of fucking Destruction! A God! A God, who will NOT age, who will NOT grow old with you, and a God who will NOT die with you!

What the FUCK is his problem?!

———

...On second thought, maybe I should reconsider the idea of even making that dumbass immortal with me.

It's kind of odd, because I considered that method to solve my problems, but I know damn well Techni wouldn't like that idea, so I'll just...cancel that for now.

I just-

...

I just don't want someone to leave me alone again like how Lumine did.

[fairyysoup]

ROSEROSEROSE I'M HERE AND I ADORED I CAN SEE U LIKE I EXPECTED AND I'M HER ETO TELL U WHAT I THINK LIKE U SAID SKDJGHSKJFGHFDKLJGH <333

(copied and pasted from my notes app ksdhgfkj)

He cracks a lopsided smile, one that he uses to charm people, you know- you’ve seen him use it on teachers and cute girls alike. “I’m always late to the party. But I get there, eventually.”

>> the things I’d do !!!!! to see that smile !!!!!

He’s wearing a uniform gray P.E. shirt and gym shorts that don’t leave a lot to the imagination, and you fixate on his thighs more than you should. He has sweat dripping down his neck, wetting his hair on the sides of his face and the seam of his shirt. It shouldn’t be attractive. He shouldn’t be attractive. With his face a mess. And his hair limp, and looking bedraggled. Truly, you make a priceless pair, being the only two people in the hallway.

>> rose I’m not normal about him oh my god

But something in the back of your mind says that the maneuver was too purposeful, immediately after he laid eyes on you. 

>> what if I died. right now.

You can’t help the smile that springs onto your face. It’s incredulous, of course, but he can’t know that. Keep trying, baby. You’ll get there, eventually.

>> he’s this big 🤏 he’s pookie 

“Why, what’d he do?” Steve sounds perturbed. You look up to find him scowling already.

>> i want to squeeze him like bubble wrap you don’t understand

Steve’s gaze lingers on your face for a moment, and then he says, “You’re so beautiful.”

>> screams sobs throws up

He’s even prettier up close, his rosy cheeks framed by sunkissed, wavy hair. When he sees you he stalls, going a bit wide-eyed and then seeming to realize he’s supposed to do his job.

>> he’s so babygirl

“I said, ‘the king of cream,’” he groans, digging his knuckles into his eye sockets. “Kill me, Robin. Load me into the freezer. Bury me at the fairground.”

>> he’s so dramatic I adore him

His hair’s a little longer, his eyes a little darker as they rake over you, in return.

>> i’m literally munching on him

Slamming open the door, he nearly shouts, “Do you have a doubloon?!”

>> babygirl <3

If only you knew how hard it actually is, to act like he’s not just fucking melting right in front of you. When he hangs on every word you say, and every other thought he has is about how badly he wants to tell Robin to get lost and take you in the back room.

>> dude the things do to suck his dick omg

 “Welcome to Sur La Table. I’m Steven, I’ll be serving you this evening. Before we begin, are there any questions about the menu?”

>> steven !!!!

If there was any doubt in his mind that you are who he thought, it’s gone now. “Interesting. We’re the same age.”

>> rose I want to crack open his skull and slurp it up like a smoothie you don’t fucking understand

You don’t have a neapolitan truffle- you have a single golden chocolate coin.

>> I’m unwell. I’m not okay. I want to eat him

What would you do, baby, if you only knew? That I can see you throw your jacket on the floor, I can see you make me want you even more…

>> off topic but I read this is as this part came on in the song (bcos I put it on loop when I started reading this LMAO) and it was so delicious omg <3 

Steve tilts his head to eye you meaningfully, and he smirks. “Always have been, honey.” His thumb rubs a little circle on your thigh that has you squirming in your seat.

>> HONEY!!!!!

Steve takes a break just long enough to grin evilly up at you, because he’s been waiting for five years to tell you to, “Breathe, sweetheart.”

>> I love him and I hate him I’m so confused what the fuck

Steve quirks an eyebrow. “Y’gonna bite me about it?”

>> I want to consume him 

Your teeth latch onto his shoulder and you bite, probably harder than you should, but you just can’t refuse the urge to mark him the way that he’s left his mark on you.

>> I just want to gnaw on him. Just a little.

KSJHG all in all this was a 10/10 experience 5 stars would recommend to a friend <3

^^ that is how i feel right now okay i love u xoxo <3

— @inkluvs (pretend this is on anon the picture wouldn't let me 😔)

I AM SO GLAD YOU LIKED IT BESTIE truthfully i am so happy you put the song on repeat while you read bc i think it makes the experience like 10x better but maybe i'm biased

you pointed out all my favorite parts!!! esp the part about him waiting by the fountain bc that was 100% inspired by a real thing that happened to me in high school lol but it was way more mortifying 💕

[pepperpottes]

Hey. It’s me, Anon again. I don’t honestly think you’d remember me - I was in when you were From Decimated Dreams, but we drifted a while back. I wasn’t so much a fandom person to be honest. Plus I was going through a horrible time around 2015 and left the app entirely. I was an awful person to be around / interact with then, I’m sure. Falling out of touch was probably my fault. But it still makes me nostalgic sometimes when I watch a movie or go to a concert that reminds me of you (went to Green Day this summer and had a lot of feelings about being a teenager while we’re on that theme). I’m actually at the gym right now, listening to Black Veil Brides on the treadmill, if that tells you how far back this goes (and how I am still cringe).

I read your post about life and your teenage self and I really felt it deep in my soul. I wanted to say that even though it’s been awhile, I never thought you weren’t smart or successful or interesting. You were (and are) a fantastic writer. I always admired how when you liked something, you LOVED it. Like your move, falling in love with something and going on a whim - that’s dedication and commitment. It’s what makes/made you such a good friend too. We knew you cared for us, fiercely. I’m sorry you couldn’t see it yourself back then.

(On a side note, I hope your mother is okay. My mother had cancer too recently and while we don’t have quite the same closeness as I think you and your mother have, that sort of thing happening to a parent is hard. I can’t even put into words the combination of existential dread and anxiety and fear and worry it’s left me with. You’re not alone in that.)

I guess what I want to say is you mattered back then and I’m glad time has helped you. You deserve it. (I wish I had the perfect fandom quote or emo song line to end here in the spirit of teenage angst and adult recovery, but I suppose you’ll just have to fill it in yourself if you think of it, alas.)

The BVB reference just did it for me. I'm like, 99.9% certain who you are, Anon (actually more like 100% certain, but I always doubt myself so I'm leaving that little 0.001% there). I won't drop a name for the sake of privacy on here but let me tell you I absolutely DO remember you, specifically as one of the best friends I ever had, and I've thought about you many, many times over the years. I've always wondered where you ended up and how things turned out for you. Falling out of touch is no one's fault--believe me, I'm terrible at keeping up with friends (and I wasn't exactly a peach in 2015 either!). I feel like i'm one of those "out of sight, out of mind" kinds of people who no one thinks about unless I'm literally standing in front of them, so I think no one remembers me, and I don't reach out. Weird, because I'm constantly thinking of people I've known and friends I've had, but there's that self-doubt again.

Speaking of BVB, it's crazy you mention that because I actually turned them on the other day for the first time in ages... on the treadmill, ironically. I think because the email I use for my AO3 is named after The Mortician's Daughter and logging back in reminded me, lol. (Or maybe it was the universe at play, knowing that we were going to reconnect like this.) And I'm still a HUGE Green Day fan too! I love that you still love them too and I bet you had a blast at the show. I haven't seen them in years, the last time actually was in DC many moons ago.

Fortunately yes, my mom is doing better now, and I hope the same for yours. You don't have to put any of it into words because honestly I can't either, but the words you did use describe it to a T. It's one of those things that's just always going to be there, I guess, and we just have to figure out how to rebuild our lives around it. Not a lot of people understand it, and I'm so sorry that you're one of them who does.

Yet again, you've got me a tad misty-eyed over here and I've been sitting for the last half hour or so trying to put into words how much this means to me right now. Those things you mentioned--those are the things I always thought made me weird or flighty, or too intense and unlikeable. I spent a lot of time trying to tone it down and I wish I hadn't. For what it's worth, I always felt the same about you. I wished I had even half of your smarts and talent and guts to go after what you wanted, and I knew you didn't see that in yourself either, but I did. I really, really hope that life has treated you well, because you also deserve all the good that the world has to offer. And seriously, if you ever want to come off anon and catch up, I would absolutely love that. If not I understand. But I'll be here, and I'm still on Facebook too.

I'll fill it in with a couple verses from 'All Signs Point to Lauderdale' by ADTR, which I always had on repeat in high school. I listened to it again recently and it hits different all these years later.

I hate this town, it's so washed up / And all my friends don't give a fuck Don't tell me that it's just bad luck / When will I find where I fit in? My world cannot ever bring me down / Gave everything I had to turn it back around Cause our time's worth something / Bigger than both you and me I can't live my life always backing down / I gotta do this right, then they can't make a sound Cause I'm not here for nothing / At least I can say I stand for something

Thank you for reaching out, my friend. <3

[oranges-for-calico]

okay so I kind of just did a long bullet point list in my notes app, so i'm just going to pick some of them and copy them here! spoilers for Broadchurch season one! :) also like.. source material typical content warnings apply. and these were as I was watching so I got a little heated at times sorry about that

also these might be like not entertaining at all. I really don't know

also the dog ends up being okay so don't worry

EPISODE ONE - i looove the trope of somber/creepy music over happy scene. - i like the detective lady so far she’s so passive aggressive. also she’s returning from maternal leave or something - ALEC HARDYYYY

- “cameraphone” what decade is this - 2013, presumably

- “go down to check it out get yourself some fresh air” SENDS HIM. TO THE DEATH SITE OF A CHILD - JACOB ANDERSON AKA LOUIS IS IN IT WHATTTT

- fucking asshole. of course it was fucking twitter this is why twitter sucks. not fucking cool - GO OFF ALEC. BLOODY TWITTER - he’s a little shit is fucking right. die olly - wow the news industry seems very exploitative.

- “why didn’t you look in on him last night” WOAHH THERE - “why didn’t you” - “where were you last night” OOP - YOU HESITATED

- news lady fucking die. heartless fucking asshole who would do that. i hate you. the entire news industry should go die actually how disrespectful can you get

EPISODE TWO

- cctv footage hell yeah alec - alec are u ok - character trope: you think he’s mean but he’s actually just fucking miserable 24/7 - beth is not doing okay omg - rory!!!:)

- who asks a 15 year old for a light - oh she gave the stuffy back oh aw okay she’s kinda sweet fuck. sorry i told you to die reporter lady - “so you’re snooping on me now” SMOOTH LMFAO - how tf can you not remember your mates name. his story has so many holes - i think it’s a red herring though ? dude idk how this show works - you are not slick bro - why is he making that face - HIS PRINTS ARE THERE HAHAHAHHA

EPISODE THREE

- dude i could not commit a murder for many reasons but specifically i would not be able to come up with lies like that

- “you overcompensate” “i know”

- ur alibi is rubbish - there’s bloods in the boat mark. - eeee i’m scared of fishing hooks. that one time we looked at them in girl scouts scared me - “because i’m ashamed innit”

EPISODE FOUR

- nice to see alec in a good mood

EPISODE FIVE

- they’re making tom act as danny in the reconstruction ??? brutal - i keep forgetting this shows from 2013 - okay i hate the fact that the age of consent is 16 there

- awww look at them gossiping - bro i’m sorry i just *can not sympathize with a man who married a 17 year old when he was 40* - oh—

EPISODE SIX - why the creepy music? is toms dad sus - “i’m always alright” that’s a very The Doctor thing to say

- “i didnt assault him it was a joke gone wrong” that’s not a great sentence - WHY do people get so defensive when they’re being questioned. IF IT WASNT YOU JUST PROVIDE THE EVIDENCE . YOU DONT NEED TO GET ANGRY

- oh boy tom what have you got. i mean you’re very sneaky so good job on that but girl please just tell the police what’s going on………..

- dean lives on a farm haha nerd - wow alec is not doing well

- “he used to be my friend” interesting wording tom

- girl nigel did you just steal the dog - that’s not nice - FIND HER BASTARD DOG. NAEW - NON NPLEASE DONT KILL THE DOG - NINOJIJNNO - NOPE

EPISODE SEVEN

- “you nearly died on me” “neowww” - alec you are literally out of breath pleasee go back to the hospital - i love how alec wears a button up over another button up that’s so gay

- OMGGGGGGG SUSAN KNOWS WHO IT IS!!! - tbh i bet it’s nigel, he’s mean and (probably) killed the dog

- ?? - actually do tell alec i’m really curious - oh?? were you having an affair? - OH. SHE WAS HIS WIFE

- FUCK NO NOT THE DOG NO NO - fuck no. no no no no - the dog is okay as of now

EPISODE EIGHT

- OKAY. - NOT THAT IM SURE YET BUT. TOMS DAD IS THE PERFECT KILLER. HES BEEN HERE IN THE BACKGROUND THIS ENTIRE TIMR BUT. HES NEVER BEEN A PRIME SUSPECT - SHOE SIZE MENS TEN FUCJ YEAH - “you’ve done good work on this miller, well done.” - THE SUSPENSE OMGGG - allllec.

- 59 DAYS EARLIER THIS WILL BE GOOOOD

- SHUT UUUUP HES INTERROGATING MILLER LMFAO - it was indeed joe. harsh though lol - can alec get some proper medical attention now

- and i thought they’d hug - FINISHED:)

if you found this entertaining lmk and I will post my notes from season two and three maybe :3 also I took notes while watching deadloch too

i watched Broadchurch last year and took notes like the entire time, would anyone be interested in me posting some of the funny ones?

[1ightcap]

trying to enjoy the brief window of non-snowbound landscapes in my area by engaging in amateur geology and botony: a shitty field guide to the side of the hill i can see out my window

What its says on the tin. The tundra is hostile, rough terrain ass landscape where the lack of trees or cover makes this doofus ass qallunaat feel like a little mouse about to get swooped down on by a bird of prey. That said my cardio is a little better and I can't spend the summer just taking walks to the airport so i downloaded a plant ID app and took it up the hill towards the lake/reservoir

this hill. but instead of a majestic sunset it was threatening to drizzle (and did profusely on the way home)

I found this map on gov of canada's website and guess-timated about where I was during this jaunt. Basically this patch is on the southwest facing side of the hill, where there is some shallow boggy silty dirt covering the bedrock interspersed with a ton of boulders.

A little grass, and flowers. Despite the thinness of the soil the mossier patches hold water really well making it really easy to take a step andd land in a springy soggy patch

Pre Cambrian bedrock. Old as balls. Like 2 billion years old. I want this info to move me more, to experience wonder, but these juts of dark, rounded rock are everywhere here. More lichen with patches of moss

on to the flowers. Caveat that these are the best guess of my app, and i am not a plant expert

A Rhododendron, *probably* the Canadian Rhododendron. Its get confusing when the the azaleas show are a huge puffy bush and every plant here creeps a few inches from the ground. It like consistently damps soil which might make it a good indicator of which bits of ground are secretly planning to make my shoes soggy

Pincushion Plant or Arctic Diapensia. If I was a *good* fake botanist I would have brought a little ruler for scale bc a lot of these plants are dinky little guys. Apparently these are circumpolar, and I probably saw them the most so they gotta be very successful at what they do

Hookers Mountain Avens, the national flower of Iceland and the plant of our neighbors in the Northwest Territories. An old ass species that apparently has been so prevalent between between ice ages that it's pollen almost acts like a sedimentary layers in ice cores and helps date them :o

White arctic mountain heather or arctic bell heather. I don't know if the silver sprigs are part of the same plant, or a different heather. Apparently a very resinous evergreens that making good kindling even went wet, which is good to know if I ever get lost out there, I guess!

Moss campion. Also popular down south in rock gardens as they are pretty low maintenance. App notes thier long lives span as individuals in Alaska have been found to be over 200 years old. I am going to have to look up if a layperson can date them, moss doesn't seem like it would have tree rings?

Clubmoss? This one I'm not sure of, the examples in the app looked much greener. It kinda looks like it might be some kind of heather. Or a lonely patch of the next one:

Juniper Haircap an evergreen moss. Those are not flowers but modified leaves on the male plants.

BONUS ROUND

Not seen out on the land yet but the hot air coming out the vents of the office building adjacent to my apartment complex has cultivated some early Fireweed, the showstopper imo of the arctic windflower season :)

[dexilou]

Ok so I have a thing where I just write random one-off stories down in my note app. I really enjoyed making this one and thought it was cute so I thought I might as well post it to my tumblr. Keep in mind while reading that it wasn't intented for posting anywhere. Just a wholesome little folksy story I guess?

Run. Run. Run. Chase. Chase. Chase. That's all he knew. The late summer sun gazed down and watched the peculiar sight. A sandy-haired boy, kissed by the sun itself. He quickly weaved through the vibrant grass. It was all so familiar to him. His pumping arms, the grass tickling his legs, the sun warming him inside out. He runs for hours, always chasing. He has chased a variety of different creatures. Birds, squirrels, deer, and even a wolf occasionally. But his favorite were rabbits. They ran the fastest. You might only see a little glimpse of there hazelnut fur and they're off down a trail they've run many times before. He's never caught a rabbit, never caught anything. He doesn't run to catch, however, he runs to live. To breathe. To be himself.

The golden-haired, freckled boy, chased a flash of white fur into the woods. Legs pumping and heart drumming in his chest, he fell into a rhythm. He weaved through trees and ducked branches only to get just a glimpse of white fur bounding away again. His lungs struggled to keep up his pace. He slowed down. His strides became sloppy, legs unwilling to cooperate anymore. He stopped. Gasping for breath, the small tanned boy searched his surroundings. Tall oaks stretch high above him, their canopys forming a leafy green sky. Patches of sun did poke through the leaves however, making strange light shapes dance on the ground. Spots of sun drifted, becoming orange at his feet. The trees' shadows snaked their way down, claiming more ground. The boy's breath quickened but he wasn't running. Spinning in a circle he searched for a familiar rock, a crooked tree, the meadow in the distance. But he didn't recognize this wood. He ran one way passing identical trees, racing along undisturbed ground. The sun began to drift away, hiding itself for the night. The sun was gone, and night had arrived.

The freckled, sandy-haired, sun-kissed, boy stopped running. Tears began to flood his eyes and cascade down his cheeks, dampening the soil beneath him. Defeated, he slumped down against the base of a tree scrubbing at his eyes. A wimper escaped his lips as he pressed his back to the cool bark.

"Hello," a voice said, startling him. Wiping his eyes, he saw a girl standing before him. She must've been his age, with bronze skin. She was petite and limber, dressed in a simple peasant dress. But her hair, it was all white, pure, pearl white.

Afraid of the stranger, the frightened boy pressed himself into the tree trying to make more space between them.

"Don't be scared," the girl said softly. "I can help you." She offered a small hand to the boy.

Carefully, he reached out and took her hand, letting her pull him up.

"I'm afraid I'm very lost," he said. "I don't know the way out of this wood." He noticed he had to look down to meet the girls eyes, which were a warm golden brown.

"Don't worry, I know the way. I've been through here lots of times." Without letting go of his hand, the strange girl with the pearl hair lead him through the woods. The night was quiet, neither child spoke as if it would wake the forest.

The freckled boy didn't know if he trusted this girl. She had just appeared in the forest. Her hair was white as snow. Perhaps she was a witch. But witches he heard were quite mean and ugly. This girl was neither of those things. He trusted this girl. He couldn't place why. Still, he found himself gripping her hand as they neared the end of the wood. She stopped at the edge of the meadow, gazing up at the moon.

"Thank you for helping me." the boy said, finding he didn't want to let go of her hand. "I never would've made it home without you."

The girl mearly smiled at him. He found himself smiling back. After a moment he faced the meadow, her hand slipping out of his. He took a few steps out of the woods, towards his home. He turned again to forest expecting the girl to be there watching him go. But the girl with the hair as white as the moon was gone. He frowned scanning the woods for her. He couldnt see her. She had disappeared.

The sun-kissed boy, under the light of the moon, began to run. He ran all the way home, imagining the strange girl disappearing into the air. When he got home to his worried mother he told her everything. The rabbit, the woods, the girl. He then realized he hadn't asked what her name was. He decided he would go out tomorrow and find her again so he could learn her name. The sandy-haired boy fell asleep that night dreaming of running through the woods with a mysterious pearl-haired girl.

[musings-of-a-rose]

All I can think of right now is Lu Fox meeting an eccentric writer who's just the oddest person he's ever meant and always seems to make him laugh or smile. They both end up helping each other (the reader helping pull Lu from the edge and Lu helping the reader voice their ideas and get their book written) and maybe falling for each other along the way. Who knows? Just an idea. Also, Garrett Hedlund is very attractive.

I'm Here

Pairing: Lu Fox x f!reader

Word Count: 5500+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. 

Notes:  Anon, I’m so sorry this took so long! I hope it’s what you were looking for. And you are correct - Garrett Hedlund is very attractive. I hope you follow him on Instagram if you need further proof. 

**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!

Main Masterlist

Lu Fox Masterlist

“Oh fuck this!” I shout, as I shove the computer away from me. Not enough to break it but enough to let out a little of the frustration I have with not being able to write anything.

Not a single word.

My friend’s husband had inherited a home in the middle of nowhere Australia, some small fishing town on the west coast. He had convinced me that what I needed to finish writing this God-forsaken novel was a change of scenery, set away from the city. Since nothing else was helping, and I would be able to stay in the house free of charge, I figured why not? 

I arrived 2 weeks ago and have written exactly 23 words. And that was my name with a series of expletives after it. 

I’m putting too much pressure on myself, I know it. It’s just that I’ve been trying to write this thing for what feels like my entire life and I know people are waiting for me to just get it out already. 

That’s the problem with imposter syndrome when it teams up with your crippling perfectionism. 

I know this place has beach access, having briefly seen it in the distance when I hauled my suitcases inside. Changing into my bathing suit with a simple tank top and shorts, I pulled on some shoes and headed outside, pausing only to grab my sun hat and to make sure my phone was in my pocket.    

It took me a few minutes to find it, but the little “private” beach was there, white sands and beach grass swaying slightly in the wind coming off the water. I walk close to where the surf comes up on the sand, tossing down my beach towel that I had remembered at the very last second, sprinting back to the house to grab it. 

I settle down on it, taking in the view briefly before pulling out my phone. Flipping to the voice recorder app, I make sure it’s working before simply holding it in my hand, eyes turning back to the beautiful water view. Several minutes pass before I finally put the phone to my face, holding it close to my mouth.

“Day…I don’t even know. Same story. Should the main character go off on some quest to find herself? No that’s too cliche. What if they return the stone but it doesn’t do what it’s supposed to?” 

Groaning, I stop the recording and hold the phone away from my mouth for a brief moment before speaking into it again.

“Or maybe they would tell everyone to shove it in their asses and leave them the fuck alone.”

“Sounds like a cheerful story.”

A deep voice speaks from slightly behind me and to my right and I jump, brandishing my phone like a weapon at the intruder. He’s tall, about 6’3 or so, sandy blonde hair that comes down to about his eyes, his annoyingly bright blue eyes. He’s tan but not overly so, has some muscle to him and I can see the swell of a small stomach beneath his nearly form fitted white t-shirt, paired with a simple pair of shorts and…are those flip flops?

“Who the fuck are you?”

He’s put his hands up in a surrender position, trying to show he means no harm. At least that’s the vibe he gives off.

“Who the fuck are you?”

“I’m the fuck who’s private property this is.”

He tries to hide a chuckle at my choice of words, but I wave the phone at him in what I hope is a menacing way and he at least tries his best to choke back the laugh.

“You’re staying at the old Allen house?”

Shit. I didn’t think this through and now he knows where I live. Not that I’d kick him out of bed. Not the point.

“Does it matter?”

He doesn’t answer me right away. Instead I see his eyes rake over me, but more in an assessing manner than being attracted to me, and it wasn’t threatening. 

“It hasn’t been lived in for a while. Everything still work or you taking cold showers?”

“They keep me clear headed.”

He laughs now, his teeth on full display as he lights up the entire area with his smile, shoulders bouncing slightly with his laughter.

“It’s gotta be freezing.”

“I’ve survived worse.”

“I’m sure you have.”

“Why are you on my beach?”

His laughter fades but the smile lingers slightly, but only slightly. “I uh…I go fishing sometimes and my truck is parked just over that sandhill.” He gestures behind him towards a sand bank. 

“Aren’t there docks you could park at?”

His eyes suddenly don’t meet mine and it clicks - he’s not supposed to be fishing whatever it is that he fishes. I know the people in this town are weird about their fishing spots so I’m not surprised. 

“I like the fish on this side.”

I put my arm down, deciding that he wasn’t a threat. “Or you’re not supposed to be fishing here.”

The smile is gone and the light that had been in his eyes fades. “Used to be we could fish wherever. But then they went and made you get a license. Little piece of paper that says you could do what everyone’s been doing since the beginning of fishing.”

I nod. “So…get a license?”

He chuckles, but there’s no laughter in it. “I tried, but they wouldn’t let me.”

“What? Why not?”

He studies me again befire speaking. “Does it bother you that I use the beach?”

“Should it?”

“It should if you intend on making friends here.”

“With these people? Pssht. They don’t want to be my friend. I’m an outsider. And an American at that, no matter how I try to assimilate.”

“Yeah, they don’t care for me either.”

“And why’s that?”

He sticks his hand out. “Name’s Lu. Lu Fox.”

I shake his hand and give him my name. “But everyone calls me Jane.”

“Jane?”

“Yeah. I’m a writer and was always a big reader. First big book I ever read was Pride and Prejudice and I was sort of obsessed. Wrote my own stories about it. The nickname stuck.”

“Oh that’s why you were talking into your phone. Makes sense. You writing out here?”

I laugh darkly. “I’m trying to. Writer’s block is a bitch.”

“Might help if you could take a nice shower instead of a cold one.”

I chuckle again. “Well…you may have a point there, Lu.”

His blue eyes are like the water behind him and he looks at me again, as if he’s finally fully judged me. Or seen me. 

“Well…it was nice to mee you, Jane.” He turns to head back over the bank, his broad shoulders flexing slightly as he runs his fingers through his hair. He disappears and my beach feels a little more empty without him here.

I head back inside and write the most I’ve written in a very long time.

—----

I don’t see him again for a couple of weeks, but then again, he could be hiding from me. Or whomever told him he’s not allowed to fish.

God I wish he’d come back. Not just because I find myself suddenly able to write when being around him, but his presence just…I’m not sure. There’s also this layer of sadness and guilt to him, hiding just behind those baby blue eyes. It’s fascinating, from a human study perspective. Although I’m sure he wouldn’t want to hear about that. 

Sitting on a towel on the beach is getting old so I explore more of the house. Opening a small shed outside, I find some old patio furniture, a small table with an umbrella and a couple of chairs. They’re a little banged up and dirty, but a quick inspection and cleaning tells me that I won’t fall through the chairs. At least not yet. 

I bring both of the chairs to the beach, intending to use the other one to rest my feet on. Or to offer to Lu if he happens by. The table, however, is the bane of my current existence. It’s heavy as fuck and my arms are straining with the effort of pulling the damn thing towards the beach. Once I hit the sand, it all but gives up, the groaning of the metal mocking me. 

“Need a hand?”

I jump, not realizing anyone was there let alone watching me. 

“You gotta stop sneaking up on me, Lu.”

He smirkls. “Next time, I’ll just watch you suffer then.”

I roll my eyes but I can’t hide the small smile that creeps up. “Next time?”

He blushes, pink cheeks radiating out from his beautifully tanned skin. “I..uh…d-do you need help?”

I watch him for a moment, deciding now wasn’t the time to push the topic. “Fuck, yes please. This table has it out for me, I swear.”

He grabs one side of the table and I grab the other. Together, we manage to get it by the chairs, Lu sinking it slightly into the ground to help stabilize it. After, I gesture towards the second chair. 

“Have a seat? I can go grab us some drinks.”

It’s my turn to be analyzed, and he does it well. I feel like I’m being judged, but not in a harsh way. More like someone trying to figure out any hidden agenda. 

“Sure. I got a few minutes.”

I head back inside and make up a quick tray of small snacks, sandwiches, and drinks, heading back out and placing it on the table. A small bowl containing food for his dog is placed on the ground, with an additional bowl for water and the dog looks extremely grateful as he chows down.

“So what made you drag all of this down here?”

I shrug. “There was too much crap in storage. And I was getting tired of sand in my lady bits.”

He laughs but it almost looks like his body isn’t familiar with the action, shoulders tensing with the unnatural release. 

“You’ve got a point there.”

“I don’t want anything in me that I didn’t invite to come inside.”

The words leave my mouth before I realize the double meaning. I take a quick drink, trying to see him out the corner of my eye, hoping he didn’t read too much into it. 

No such luck. 

“Invited in, huh?”

Ok, trying to play it cool here. I wave my hand as I swallow my sip. “Sand? Not invited. You? Open invitation.”

What the fuck did I just say?

Apparently I’ve left my mouth under the control of someone else but now they’ve turned control back over to me after saying basically, “you can fuck me whenever you want.”

Lu chokes on his drink as the words leave my mouth, coughing and sputtering, but also holding back a smile as he regains his composure. 

Before he can say anything I stand, knowing my cheeks are burning and my confidence in myself has been swept away into the water. I almost start to run, anything to get away from the situation that I have opened myself to. I mean, I would never say no to that situation coming up but…that’s so not the point. 

I make it to the screen door, pulling it open and letting it slam behind me as I walk the 2 steps to the main door, fumbling with the handle. Suddenly, I feel him, standing on the outside of the screen, hesitant to open it to make me feel obligated to something, but wanting me to know it’s ok, that I didn’t just embarrass the hell out of myself and that he’s ok with moving on. It’s almost as if he enjoys his time with me too, despite how limited it’s been. Why else would he put up with me?

I turn, slowly, bracing myself to meet those piercing blue eyes that can actually see me. And when I do, I can’t stop myself. 

I open the screen door, staring up at him as he looks down at me, his eyes flicking between mine, trying to read my intentions, letting me know nothing has to happen. Ever. He’s content with just being around me. But one thing’s for sure - he’s leaving it all up to me. 

Gently, I take his hand and pull him inside, the screen door slamming closed behind him. He’s still watching me, his eyes studying my entire body for cues, not wanting to push. But there’s a growing intensity there, a need, a desire that he’s trying to push down in case nothing happens. 

But I need his consent too. And silently I receive it with a quick raise of my eyebrows and a small nod from him. 

I have to stand on my toes to meet his lips, which are surprisingly soft and gentle against my anxiety bitten ones. His hands find my hips and lightly settle there, a soft grip on them as he pulls me closer to him. His tongue licks lightly at my lips, still asking for the permission I have already granted him, not wanting to overstep. My tongue darts out to meet his and I feel his fingers tighten on my hips, his body trying to close any space between us. 

I take a step back, my fingers finding his belt loop and pulling him along with me. He gets the hint and moves me forwards, pushing my ass into the door behind me as he deepens his kiss. I shift my leg up his thigh and he swings his arm around it, pushing it up higher to loop over his own hip as he lightly grinds into me. Breaking the kiss, I whine into the humid air, Lu taking full advantage of my exposed neck to kiss and bite me there, groaning when my fingers find his hair at the back of his neck, tugging slightly. 

Then the tension pops.

He slides his hand up my leg, feeling for the ties at the hips of my bathing suit, quickly undoing them and letting it drop to the floor. My hands fumble at his shorts, but I manage to pop the button open and slide them down just enough for him to spring free, dick lightly slapping against my wet cunt. 

He grips the back of my other thigh and pulls it up around his other hip, helping me to straddle him as he pushes my back into the door. One arm wrapped around his broad shoulders, I use the other to grip him, lining him up as he slides me down onto him, both of us moaning out as he inches his way inside me, stretching me in the best way possible. Our mouths are still attached, open and breathing into the other as he pulls out and pushes back in, setting a pace that has him hitting some spot at the very back of me, stars erupting in my vision as I come, crying out his name as he prolongs my release. A few more hard thrusts from him and he moans into my shoulder, coming hard as his hips sputter, trying to fill every corner of me. 

We stay like that for a few minutes, just breathing heavily and feeling the other. He quietly slips from me, placing my feet back on the floor before gripping my hips and pulling me to him again, kissing me deeply against the door. 

It’s now that I realize the groan isn’t coming from me or him, but from behind me.

Lu must relize this too as he pulls me off the door and to him, just as the door takes one last creak and falls backwards into the house, the bottom hinge attempting to hang on, the top half of the door slamming loudly on the wood floor.

“I can fix that.”

I look at Lu and we both start to laugh, his smile just barely reaching his eyes as it stretches across his face, lighting up the porch. 

“I’ll hold you to that, Lu.”

—-----

True to his word, Lu repairs the front door that day, taking some additional time to see what else needed repairs. I’m not sure how much of a handyman he is, but I decide I don’t really care because that next day he fixes my hot water heater and I can finally take a hot shower again.

Lu takes his time fixing up my place. I assumed it was just for the amazing sex, but when I ask him, he says he likes hearing me mutter to myself about my book because nothing ever seems related as i only verbalize less than half of what I'm actually thinking. He likes watching the process.

I’m just glad there’s an actual process to observe.

Lu’s presence inspires me and I find myself able to write more and more with every passing day. It���s not that he’s in my book, but more that he somehow gives me the confidence I need to actually write something that’s not entirely shit. 

I wish I could do something similar for him. The sadness in him is still very much there, always present in his eyes and hunched over posture, like it’s literally weighing him down. I don’t dare ask him outright, not wanting to intentionally hurt him. 

—----

The townspeople are talking now. Before, they’d mostly ignore me, maybe giving me a rolled eye here and there, but mostly just smiling long enough to take my money. But now, it’s like they’ve all taken an interest, telling me I need to “Stay away from that Fox boy” because he’s bad news. But when I ask how, no one can really give me an answer. They glance around and say something about “Buckridge”. I’m pretty sure that’s the top fisherman around here and he’s some sort of local celeb.

Like I give an actual fuck.

—----

A few months after my arrival, I’m sitting on my back porch towards evening, sipping on some homemade lemonade I’d managed to perfect, gazing out over the sand banks towards the beach. Lu was off fishing or doing whatever it is he does to make money, which always gives me time to sit and think without the presence of another human or animal. I thought I’d hate living so far from a city, but it’s growing on me.

Or at least a certain someone is.

I hear rustling in the brush near my house and it sounds big. I know Australia has some very unique animals, but I’ve been here a while and I’ve never heard anything this big. I still my movements, thankful I’d been sitting out here a while for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. Those movements are definitely not an animal. They sound like a person. Is someone from town lurking around my house?  

Silently, I reach for the baseball bat Lu had placed next to my front door a few weeks ago in case I needed to look larger to local wildlife. I never thought I’d have to use it on a person.

Just then, a body falls out from the brush, hitting the dirt with a pathetic “oomph”, barely moving after the fall. I grab my flashlight and shine it towards the person.

“Lu!”

I dart out of the porch door, full out running towards him, dropping the bat to his side where I also lay the flashlight down, touching his shoulder to get him to turn. He jerks back, unsure of who I am.

“It’s me. It’s Jane. You’re at my place.”

This seems to calm him down, his eyes finally able to actually see me and take me in.

“Jane?”

I hate how forced his voice is, hate the violent cough that follows. I coax him to stand, having him lean on me as we shuffle to the house. I manage to get him inside the porch on the patio couch. He stretches out, taking some sharp breaths and groans as he grips at various parts of his body. 

“Let me look at you. Ssshh it’s ok. You’re gonna be ok.”

He’s already shirtless, cuts and scrapes and bruises adorn his torso, matching his face. His shorts are torn in places and I realize now that he doesn’t have on any shoes. His feet have major blisters on them, as if he’d been walking barefoot for a while.

“Let me call an ambulance-”

“No.”

It’s quiet, and choked out, but it’s a strong reply regardless.

“Lu, I don’t know if you’re bleeding internally or something is broken, I-”

“No hospitals. Nothing broken.”

I’m not going to win this one, so I make do with what I can. 

“Well if you get worse, you’re going. No fighting. Now, I’m going to grab the first aid kit, hold on.”

Sprinting inside, I grab a small first aid kit that I’d stocked up when I got here, fully knowing my own clumsiness would require me to have a good supply of ointments and bandages. I also grab a bowl and fill it with warm water and toss in a clean rag. I set the bowl gently down on the floor next to Lu, taking the cloth and wringing it out. 

“I’m going to clean you up a bit but we need to get you in a bath. Ok?”

“Mmm.”

Gently, I dab at all of the cuts, taking note of the ones that looked deeper and the bruises he winced over. It’s obvious he’s exhausted, his muscles probably on fire from doing whatever he needed to to survive. I get him as clean as I can before tossing the rag in the bowl. I take his hand carefully and give it a light squeeze, waiting for him to turn to me. He does but he keeps his eyes closed. 

“We have to get you in the bath, Lu.”

He groans but nods, knowing he’s going to have to endure some amount of pain. I help him up and he nearly falls on me. Luckily, I have my feet planted and am able to support a little more of him as I guide him inside and down the hall, grateful for the giant soaking tub in the bathroom not too far from the front door. He sits on the closed toilet seat as I pour the water, making sure it’s a nice warm temperature before turning to him. 

“Let me help.”

He nods and attempts to stand, but I place a hand on his shoulder. 

“Just lift your hips when I say, yeah?”

He nods again, waiting as I undo his shorts and pull them and his boxers open. He lifts his hips so I can slide them down and off his legs, tossing them by the bathroom door. He pulls himself up and I help him in the tub, listening to his whimpers and groans as his body aches and screams out at him. 

Finally, he’s seated in the tub and I can clearly see all of him. He’s got more cuts and scrapes than I saw before, bruises springing up almost before my eyes. His feet are more of a mess than I anticipated and I know he’ll be out a few days recovering. I grab a washcloth and some soap and get to work, gently scrubbing away the dirt and grime from his skin and the saltwater from his hair. 

“It was some of Buckridge’s men.”

There’s that name again.

“What?”

“Was out fishing and I saw 2 boats heading my way. I looked in the binoculars and saw them. Buckridge’s men heading straight for me. I tossed my shirt and dove in, swimming far and deep. They destroyed my boat.”

Anger courses through me at this. “They could’ve killed you, Lu.”

“I don’t think they’d have minded if they did.”

Silence for a few minutes before he speaks again.

“I wound up on shore but a lot farther out from where I started. No boat. They probably got my truck. But I knew you weren’t too far. Or I thought you weren’t too far-”

“Wait. You swam for miles, then walked here?”

“Mmm. Had to take the brush in case they found me on the road.”

“Fuck, Lu. We gotta go to the police-”

“No. It won’t help anyway.”

“Lu, this was attempted murder! They could’ve-”

“Wouldn’t be anything I didn’t deserve.”

It was so quiet, nearly whispered, and I almost missed it. 

“You don’t deserve any of this.”

“You don’t know what I’ve done.”

“Is it why you’re always so sad?”

He doesn’t say anything, but the tears building in his eyes confirms his answer. I don’t say anything, quietly washing his hair and the rest of him before helping him out of the tub and to my bedroom, helping him to laydown after I dried him off. I get him under the blankets, propped up slightly on some pillows. 

“You need water.”

I get him a glass of water and grab some extra bottles along with a light snack and bring it to my room. Setting everything on the table, I help him sit up slightly to take some sips of water before he lays back, groaning into the pillows. I go to stand up but he places his hand on my thigh, silently asking for me to remain seated at his side. 

“She died. And it was my fault.”

“Who?”

“Bird.”

Then he tells me everything. How he used to be a singer and played in a small folk band with his brother and his brother's wife and their daughter Bird. There had been an argument between his brother and his wife one night after a show, his brother getting in a physical fight with Jim Buckridge himself. Bird was allowed to attend that show, so she and Lu sat in the backseat, the silence between the two adults in the front seat thick with tension and accusations of infidelity. His brother tried to put on music but she yanked the tape from the deck.  

Suddenly, there were honks and bright lights coming from behind them and his brother sped up. Lu tried to get him to stop but he wouldn’t. Before Lu could get Bird’s seatbelt on, the car flipped and he blacked out. When he woke, he realized he’d been thrown from the car, which was now laying on it’s roof. He found his brother and his wife in the car, upside down and already gone. That’s when he saw Bird, thrown several feet away from the car. He had stumbled towards her, promising her to get help. Help eventually came, Bird having to be hooked up to several monitors. Many doctors repeating the same thing, about how she was physically here but she would never wake and how he needed to decide whether to pull the plug or not. Eventually, he did, but instead of feeling like he let her move on to the next life, regret came pouring into him.

“It’s my fault. My fault she’s…she’s…”

He sobs, turning his head into the pillow as years of regret and anger towards himself flow out. Without thinking, I slide under the covers near him, pulling his face to my chest while cradling his head and lightly rubbing his back with my free hand. I let him cry, wailing into the night for the guilt he thinks he deserves for several minutes before I start to hum, some mindless tune. Eventually his shoulders stop shaking and his breathing levels out and I pull him just a little closer. 

“It’s not your fault, Lu.”

“I pulled the plug. If I didn’t, maybe she’d…”

“No, Lu. She was only there because of the assholes in the other car.”

“If I could only have gotten help sooner-”

“Look at me.”

He turns his head, looking up at me with eyes red and puffy with tears. 

“You did absolutely everything you could do. You took care of her as best as you could. Better than anyone else, I would say. Pulling the plug…that was a selfless act and you allowed her to move on. Death is hardest on those who remain behind. But you can’t live your life with the what-if’s. And I’m sure if Bird were here now, she’d tell you that exact same thing. The only one who has to believe it, is you.”

Silent tears well at the corners of his shining blue eyes, and he nods, slowly.

“When they came after me today, part of me thought I should just lay down in the boat. Let them take me. But….but then I saw her. I saw Bird. She basically told me it was time to move and I realized I didn’t want to die. So I swam. And swam and swam, all the while hearing her. And when I got to shore, all I could think about was getting to you. I think she’d have liked you.”

A sigh of relief leaves his mouth, his entire body relaxing from it and I realize he’s falling asleep. I let him hold onto me for a while before I quietly leave the room, cleaning up the porch and making sure I have food lined up for breakfast.

—----

I know he’ll be sore this morning. How could you not be after swimming that far and then walking even farther? I make a light breakfast for him, not wanting to overload him with food, and arrange it on a tray with some juice, water, and painkillers, heading to my room. He blinks awake when I enter, a small smile appearing when he takes me in.

“You brought me breakfast?”

“It’s nothing big. But if you want more, just say so and I’ll whip something else up.”

Setting the tray on the side table, I help prop him up, setting the tray on his lap once he’s comfortable.

“You gonna sit here too?”

“I don’t want to impose.”

He gives me a look. “Sit.”

I perch myself on the side of the bed, picking the skin on my fingers. 

“Jane?”

“I finished it.”

He sets his fork down and looks at me. “You finished?”

I nod. “Yup. Last night. I couldn’t sleep and got inspired to write. And…I finished. I mean, I’ll have to get it edited and such but-”

“Can I read it?”

I know my face is hot again. “Oh you- you don’t have to-”

“I want to. If it’s ok with you?”

His bright blue eyes find mine and they’re genuine. They also seem…lighter? Than normal. Like he’s not weighed down with as much grief as he was last night.

“I- yes. Of course.”

I bring my laptop over and sit next to him on the bed, pulling up my finished work. As I pass him the laptop, I feel open, on display, like he’s inspecting every corner of me. 

“Don’t worry about accidentally deleting anything. I have it backed up in several places.”

“Smart idea.”

I can’t sit here while he reads it. Not just because it’s long but I’m nervous. I always get this way when people read my work, published or not. I just want to hide sometimes. 

Lu takes the rest of the day to read and to relax and heal. I bring him meals and helped him walk to the bathroom once before he waved at me and said he’d be ok. That night, I fell asleep next to him as he was still reading, and I have to admit that I love the feeling of him in my bed.

Even if I do want to throw up at the idea of him reading anything I’ve written.

—----

Soft lips brush against mine as my eyes blink awake. Lu pulls back and studies my face, pushing hair out of my sleepy eyes.

“I finished it.”

I’m awake now.

“You..you did?”

“It was amazing, Jane. I’m not just saying that, I mean it.”

He goes on to give me a surprisingly in depth analysis of it, offering feedback and what his favorite parts were. He also left comments if he saw any typos, which I profusely thanked him for.

“So I guess this means you’ll be heading back to the States?”

“What?”

“To get it edited and printed or..or whatever happens.”

I honestly hadn’t thought that far ahead. I wasn’t even confident I’d start writing, let alone finish.

“I’ll send the manuscript to my agent and they’ll pass it on to the editors and all of that.”

“And then what?”

Then what, indeed.

“And then I have to head back to the States.”

He offers me a sad smile. “I’ll be sad to see you go-”

“Come with me.”

He sits up more, his eyes flicking between mine, searching for any sign of a joke. “What?”

“I’m serious. Come with me.”

“Jane, I-”

“You’ve been telling me how you’ve wanted to get out of Australia. That…that you don’t have any ties here any more. Come with me. And if you decide you hate it, then…then you can come back and I’ll buy this house from my friend’s husband and-”

“Wait, wait. You’d really want me to come with you?”

Time for a confession.

“I can’t imagine my future without you in it, Lu.”

That following week, we close up the house and pack our things, ready to close the chapter on our past and move on to the next one together.

—----

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[petro1986]

Spitballing here: answer machine, perfectly acceptable! As your phone was a landline, therefore immovable, and while you're away you get messages throughout the day to be addressed once you return... When the first brick size/weight "mobile" phones came up, it became the "I can get this yuppie to quickly answer my question"

As mobile phones got smaller/cheaper/popular (onto 2G digital frequencies) it became more important to have features to make your phone distinct from the competition (Nokia were like the kings of this, 3210 and 5210s, then an 1600 I think we're my Nokias until I got a fruit phone (once)) and for carriers now serving areas well enough that now they need to compete... So you get SMS text messaging, WAP internet, and of course; voicemail! Features that are nice to access via cellular systems...

Then the smartphone nation invaded!

Your phone was no longer your phone, it was a camera (one you'd actually use!) a MP3 player! Diary, and has the proper web now¹, this motivating new modes of service... Unshackled from a cellular provider for adding features to your phone, given how everyone wanted to be "The Next Facebook!"

...or depending on those in the know, "the next pdf!"

So now there are evolutions of MSN and Skype, broadening out, along with logging into your Facebook profile and having access to your emails, the communication avenues are getting to be really powerful, so powerful that companies start monopolising your attention... Wait, wasn't this about voicemail?

And here's my thesis to this post: we can do better than voicemail now, if you NEED to talk to someone, you phone them on your their mobile! If they don't pick up, you ring them again, or shoot off a message, either SMS, RSC, or across the various apps that Facebook do and don't own! The person will get back to you!

My guess is that you don't know (I'll enjoy watching this post age like milk behind a radiator) but if I'm right, it's a feature that has atrophied, as previous to this paradyne shift, answer machines were a good enough solution to the state of the art. But for the most part we simply wish to know if something time sensitive is happening. Phone calls for me in a subjective sense can function as alert barks, as interest in checking phone plummets if it's the same tone over and over².

So what can we draw from this? Should mobile providers dump voicemail? No! It's better to have it Vs expecting everyone to move over to a walled garden messaging service! But what would I suggest? As much as it pains me to say this, but: there is a possible place from speech recognition software to transcribe some/all to become a text message, as a possible option... Now if you think that's "let AI type out someone's text message" then you are very bad and I use my spray water bottle on you³

Voicemail is a remnant of a time past, and while I'm sure there are advocates, it's important to understand that if you do phone me and it goes to voicemail, just please, hang up! It'll take longer for me to answer your queries if you do leave a voicemail Vs not.

- if you've made it this deep into this ramble, thank you! I don't expect reblogs or comments, but if you do, I'd be very flattered!

- if you resonate with this post and switch it to a different medium (animation, dramatic reading, comic, stage play) I'd deeply appreciate you linking back to this original post⁴

- I wish you a lovely day, no matter how you find this post

_appendix under the break_

¹: note that certain manufacturers chose to neglect various popular web protocols that had been well established for years, thus driving people to only support what they deemed worthy, cutting out a huge amount of web 2.0 history that is harder to access now for those with only smart phones/similar devices.

²: I understand if someone messages like they did on MSN or AIM but, for me you have to get a reply from someone before you both can start quick fire message each other, but this is a Me problem and I don't expect anyone to change, just know your priority drops if your last message to me makes zero sense with 4 messages worth of context.

³: AI today is how people used Cyberspace in the late 80s and early 90s to talk about getting online, so throwing AI about without deep clarification is a huge red flag my dudes/dudettes/non-dudes

⁴: if you James Summerton this post, I will curse you to the knowledge that the entirety of what makes you a thinking person is a similar texture and odour of blue cheese, and is just about as mingin' to touch (talking about your thinking brain)

SPLINK!

I'm all about preserving tech, but one thing that doesn't need to exist in [current year] is: Voicemail