#because i legitimately dont have the energy to reply | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nephrastar · 1 year

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Honestly convinced that, barring maybe tumblr, bigwig social media has collapsed damn near all of my social circles.

All this shit about figuring out the algorithm, all this shit about analytics, SEO, about view time, about follower count... I just fucking hate it all now. Social media basically turned the internet from a wild west with pockets of peaceful and interesting communes to a monolithic walled city where the only thing that matters is numbers. And if you get big numbers, congrats you get to be famous!! But only if you can keep those numbers going.

And let me tell you from personal experience-- 9 times out of 10, when you post something to social media at "the right time of day" with the intent of getting some clout, your post just... Does not get clout, most of the time.

Any post that goes viral is a benefactor of circumstance. In my almost 20 years of being on the internet, the one and only thing I've ever posted that went viral was a shitpost on Twitter of me memeing on a restaurant because they had a tip limit on their app and they along with many other food and adjacent companies were being criticized for not paying their employees a living wage. This was in 2022. Last year. I learned nothing from having hundreds of thousands of likes and retweets, and have not had anything nearly as popular since. I promoted my art Twitter in the replies, but you wanna know what that did?

Absolutely FUCKING NOTHING. I didnt make any money as a result of piggybacking that viral tweet. I didn't have people clamoring for what i had to offer. And it was then when I realized that getting big numbers anywhere will ultimately amount to jack and shit. And Jack had long since left town.

That may sound like i was upset that i didnt become internet famous overnight. I honestly wasn't, but there's a point to be made here-- the chances of your platform becoming big and internet famous are about as good as your acting landing you a breakout role in a Hollywood film. You're competing with hundreds of hours worth of content per second on most platforms, and depending on the site, their algorithm, which may or may not be controlled by real life humans.

Nobody can know for certain what types of videos will be hits on YouTube anymore. not even YouTube staff know what will be hits anymore because their algorithm is a machine learning AI, and creating any content at all with the intent of beating the algorithm or making faceless computers happy will lead to burnout. And when that content doesn't make the big numbers, you're probably going to feel like it's your fault when it's really not. this goes for any social media site that uses similar methods to "curate" their user's site experience.

And I've seen far too many people i know fall into this trap, which may as well be gambling. Getting good numbers so you can get that nice dopamine hit. Then maybe you hit a jackpot. Then you're just outright delighted. So you do the same thing you did before. But it doesn't make big numbers this time. Was it something you did? Ah well. Post again. Nothing. You adjust how you post and when to post. Maybe what to post, even. But still... Your content isn't doing well. You may as well be playing slots at a casino, except instead of losing thousands of dollars you're losing time. Time that, honestly, would've been better spent doing something you legitimately like to do.

The way i see it, make content like the algorithm doesn't exist-- make videos infodumping about your special interest like view counts dont matter, draw art and post it with the same energy a 5 year old has when they show off their macaroni art to their parents. Make the music you want to hear played during a thunderstorm.

Make the content that you want because you like the idea of it existing. At the end of the day, that content is FOR YOU! It has value because you poured your passion and love into it, and no amount of Algorithms or influencer courses or viral content will ever change that. And if that does eventually lead to you being notable and successful, then congratulations! You have a large audience that's cheering you on and encouraging you to do what you love.

#vent post #Neph does a vent

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cryptidshuffle · 3 years

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the less we say about it the better - chp 1

ao3

Rating: Teen Fandom: Half-Life VR But The AI Is Self Aware Relationships: Tommy Coolatta & Gordon Freeman, Tommy Coolatta/Gordon Freeman (pre relationship) Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Post-Canon, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Temporary Character Death(its benrey dont worry hes ok), meta about deaths and respawns, arguing about the rules of uno, gay pining, Mutual Pining, fellas is it gay to comfort ur friend who u love and are both boys?, also fair warning it'll eventually be a poly ship with benrey, Autistic Character, Autistic Tommy, ADHD Gordon, everyone is gay and trans, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

Summary: “after everything we’ve been through we deserve a few mental break downs.” they are trying to recover after black mesa, but recovery is hard. especially when one of you is still dead

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They had been out of Black Mesa for a few weeks now. It was difficult trying to acclimate to life after the incident, but they were all making it work.

The science team had gotten together for some sort of game night, something cathartic about being around others who share the same trauma. Anyways, snacks and Uno was just as chaotic as one would imagine with this group of chucklefucks, with competitive tensions high on the last round of the night.

“You can’t stack the draw 4 cards, Gordon,” Bubby argued, smacking Gordon’s hand just as he placed the card.

“Says who?”

“It’s literally against the fucking rules of the game,” Bubby said back.

Tommy agreed with, “It is in the official rules, Mr. Freeman, they- Mattel confirmed it on Twitter.”

“But that’s dumb!” Gordon argued back, “I’ve always played where you can stack those, why change that now?"

Bubby retorted, “Well maybe you’ve always been playing wrong, huh? Ever thought about that, smartass?”

Dr. Coomer chimed in with, “Well on the official page for Uno (card game) on Wikipedia, the free online encyclopedia that anyone can edit, it states that

The following official house rules are suggested in the Uno rulebook, to alter the game:

Progressive Uno: If a draw card is played, and the following player has the same card, they can play that card and "stack" the penalty, which adds to the current penalty and passes it to the following player.[4](Although a +4 cannot be stacked on a +2, or vice versa.)[6] This house rule is so commonly used that there was widespread Twitter surprise in 2019 when Mattel stated that stacking was not part of the standard rules of Uno.[6]”

“Well, there you have it,” Gordon exclaims, interrupting Coomer’s Wikipedia infodump, “Just because it’s a house rule doesn’t mean it’s not a legitimate way of playing."

“What if I don’t want to play with that rule, that’s fuckin stupid,” Bubby grumbles.

“Jesus ok, I'll play a different card, happy?” Gordon says dejectedly, taking back his controversial draw 4 card for a more innocuous one. “It’s your turn anyways.”

Bubby throws down his last card onto the pile. “I win fuckers!!!! Ahahahahaha!"

“You wouldn’t have won if you let me stack the fucking cards,” Gordon said as he threw his losing card pile onto the coffee table.

“Don’t fret Gordon! Bubby is just extremely good at card games,” Dr. Coomer replied.

“You're forgetting I’m a goddamn genius, that extends to my sick-ass Uno skills,” Bubby bragged.

Gordon chuckled, watching the two older scientists get up to leave, and watching Tommy remain, quietly cleaning up the uno deck into neat piles to place in its box.

“Well gentlemen, it’s been fun, though I think it’s time Bubby and I better get going!” Dr. Coomer said.

“No problem, don’t want you two to be late for your old man early-bird breakfast at Golden Corral tomorrow!” Gordon teased.

“Shut the fuck- I’ll kick your ass,” said Bubby.

“Hello Gord- Actually our old man breakfast is not until Saturday! It’s the one day a week I let loose and unhinge my jaws at the buffet like a Burmese Python!” said Dr. Coomer as Bubby grabs his coat and keys.

“That sounds absolutely horrifying,” Gordon laughs.

“It really is,” says Bubby. “Well, see you later asshole,” Bubby says, herding himself and Coomer out the front door.

“See you guys later,” Gordon says.

“Goodbye, Gordon! Goodbye, Tommy,” Coomer also says, before they leave Gordon’s apartment.

Tommy had yet to get up to leave, he stayed sitting in his seat staring into space, and fiddling with the Uno card deck.

“Hey Tommy, you alright man?” he asked gently. At the mention of his name, he was shaken a bit out of his stupor.

“Y-yeah I'm fine Mr. Freeman, why do you ask?”

“I mean you were kinda just staring into space for a bit, and you didn’t say anything when Bubby and Coomer left.”

“Oh shit. Sorry about that, I’ll get out of your hair,” Tommy said, starting to move to leave.

Gordon placed a hand on Tommy’s shoulder. “Hey, if something’s bothering you, just know I’m here if you wanna talk about it,” Gordon comforted.

Tommy blushed slightly at the contact and nodded.

“Thank you. I-uh… I’ve just been thinking about things that happened back in Black Mesa and, you know,” he pauses to think for a bit, and sighs, “honestly I’ve been thinking a lot about Benrey.”

Just at the mention of him, Gordon felt his stomach drop with the weight of too many emotions.

“Yeah...I uh… I understand,” he responds with a sad sigh, “anything in particular you’re thinking about him?”

“I don’t know just kind of- Earlier I started thinking about how much he would enjoy game night. And then I started to miss him and realize that- that he’s not here. I feel guilty about killing him and upset at what he did. He was still my friend and I just- I want to know why he did what he did. I just want to understand,” Tommy said.

Gordon looked away as he thought about his own emotions regarding Benrey. He was undeniably angry with him, for getting him ambushed by the bootboys, for getting his arm cut off, frustrated with the constant taunting. Yet… he also felt guilty for some reason and he couldn’t quite place why. Gordon really didn’t want to feel guilty.

“Yeah…” Gordon sighed, “I'll be honest I do feel guilty about it too. I don’t know why because I feel like it should be justified since he did try to kill us. But there were times when him pestering me about my arm felt like… like sincere questioning? I still… I don’t know.”

“Yeah… I think-” Tommy cut himself off, staring at a fixed point in his vision, trying to decide whether or not to bring this up.

“I don’t think Benrey understood how human mortality worked.”

Well, that wasn’t what Gordon expected. “What do you mean?”

“Well, he was from Xen, Mr. Freeman, he wasn’t human. It was different for him. You remember he did die several times, but he came back eventually. He had to wait for his form to regenerate.”

“Wait-” this time Gordon cut Tommy off, “Oh shit, that wasn’t a joke? For some reason I just assumed his talking about respawns and shit was part of his Epic Gamer bit?”

“I mean it was a little but I think… there’s probably a reason Benrey attached himself to video games so much, yeah? He can see himself in the structure. Like, uh- something he can relate to.” Tommy says. “It doesn’t excuse what- what he did, but I feel like knowing why things happened makes- makes them more understandable.”

Gordon leaned back on the couch blown away by the revelation. In hindsight it wasn’t that surprising but it took him a few seconds to come to terms with the reality.

“Yeah, when you put it that way, I guess it does make a lot of sense. Wait though, I swear to god all of you have died at least once, but you guys aren’t from Xen?” Gordon said, now confused about the seeming metanarrative of the mortality of his friends.

“Yeah, but those were weird Black Mesa things, Mr. Freeman,” Tommy said, not elaborating any more than that.

Gordon waited a beat for Tommy to explain more but he said all he needed to.

“I will ask you more about that later, but I do not have the energy to unpack all that right now,” Gordon said with a gentle laugh.

“Wait, getting back on topic real quick, why couldn’t Benrey just... respawn now? Did we really get him that good?”

Tommy looked incredibly sad when Gordon said this, and he regretted it immediately. ‘Damn it Gordon, Tommy’s clearly upset about Benrey, you don’t gotta be an insensitive dick.’

“Well Mr. Freeman, that’s kinda why I’ve been thinking about him,” Tommy said, “I’m not sure. It shouldn’t have taken him this long to respawn. Depending on the amount of damage it takes longer but… It’s been a while and what if- What if he is back but he is mad at all of us and that’s why we haven’t seen him? Or what if it is taking a really long time because we hurt him a whole lot. Or what if we…”

Tommy got quiet for a few seconds, the silence in the room was deafening. For an instance Gordon felt as if making a sound would shatter the air like glass.

Tommy finally said with a whisper, voice thick with choking back tears, “What if we killed him for good? And I don’t- I never see him again?”

It honestly broke Gordon’s heart how distraught Tommy was. Pushing his own complicated Benrey feelings aside, he was gonna focus on Tommy here and now.

“…Tommy, is it ok if I hug you, man?” Gordon couldn’t think of the best way to comfort the other man with words, but physical comfort he could do.

Tommy looked a little surprised at this ask but nodded. Gordon leaned in to hug the other scientist and Tommy collapsed in his embrace, completely breaking down.

Gordon just sat there and held him as Tommy sobbed into his shoulder, trying to comfort the crying man by rubbing circles into his back.

Gordon’s brain processed the things Tommy had said. Was Benrey really gone? Why did he feel guilty about the idea of having killed Benrey, he was fine with the concept during the final boss fight on Xen but now… the thought made him feel… sad? Regretful? Even his seemingly rational justifications didn’t seem as clear at the moment, only thinking of his fonder memories with Benrey.

‘Fuck this,’ he thought as he felt his own tears well up, ‘this isn’t about me, I need to focus on being there for Tommy,’ pushing his own feelings to the back of his mind to be dealt with later.

Tommy eventually calmed down enough where his sobs turned into sniffles, and he started to pull away from the hug.

“S – sorry for having a – a breakdown on your- on your couch Mr. Freeman,” Tommy said, the post-crying mental fog making his stuttering more noticeable. Tommy didn’t really have the effort in him to care.

“Don’t worry about it, man, after everything we’ve been through we deserve a few mental breakdowns,” Gordon joked trying to lighten the mood.

“Oh, that was nothing, Mr. Freeman, in terms of mental breakdowns that was as mild as a first-grade pizza party in the eye of a hurricane,” Tommy compared in a way that made little sense to Gordon, yet ridiculous enough to cause the man to burst out laughing.

“Alright I’ll take your word for it,” Gordon said, still laughing.

“I’m serious Mr. Freeman, once you have a meltdown so intense that you accidentally teleport yourself to an inter-dimensional void, the rest is a cake walk at the school fair,” Tommy said.

“Waitwaitwait- teleport?” he leaned back to look at him in surprise, “Since when could you fuckin teleport!” Gordon asked caught off guard.

“You know, learned some things from my Dad,” Tommy said, again failing to further explain himself.

“…Well alright. Yeah that tracks.”

Gordon was quiet for a moment before responding with, “You know, Tommy, I want you to know I’m here for you if you need anyone to talk to. You were there for me when I was at my lowest in Black Mesa, and I wanna be that friend to you if you need it,” he said giving the other scientists hand a comforting squeeze.

Tommy smiled, “Thank you, that means a lot Mr. Freeman.”

“You know you can call me Gordon, you don’t have to be so formal all the time Dr. Coolatta,” he teased.

Tommy blushed, ‘dammit why did he have to be so cute?’

“Wow Mr. Fr – Gordon are you really gonna make fun of my doctorate that I worked very hard for,” Tommy teased back, still a bit sniffly from crying.

“Dude, I cannot imagine you in college for some reason, what was your doctorate even in” asked Gordon, semi-jokingly, but still a bit serious.

Tommy laughed a bit, wiping the remaining tears away with the back of his hand. “Bio-chemical engineering. Creating Sunkist was for my thesis project.” Normally Tommy would be more then willing to infodump about the topic but he found his energy to be draining fast.

“What the fuck, that’s cooler than mine was. Us nerds in the Theoretical Physics department didn’t do any crazy shit like that,” Gordon said.

“Bold of you to assume I was a nerd, G-Gordon. I was the craziest guy in the frat house,” Tommy said.

Gordon’s memory vaguely recalls Tommy’s insistence that he “do something crazy” when drinking Darnold’s Potion of Grow Gun Arm.

“You know what, yeah, surprisingly I can see that image vividly in my head,” Gordon said. “Real talk though…” he said changing the subject and putting his hand on Tommy’s shoulder, “Are you- uh, ok? Like feeling better?”

Tommy was quiet for a second, eyes flickering down to look at his fidgeting hands in his lap, before replying with, “I’m ok. N-not great, I don’t think, but I will be.”

Gordon nodded. “Tommy, if there’s one nugget of wisdom that I have to share, it’s that healing takes time, things usually turn out to be ok in the end. No matter what’s going on with Benrey…it'll be alright, I’m sure.” Gordon patted his shoulder for emphasis, “not the best advice out there but it’s the best I can come up with straight off the dome. And I don’t wanna seem like I didn’t try to help you out."

Tommy laughed gently, “Thank you Mr. Fr- uh, thank you Gordon. You did help. Even if- if your advice was a bit cheesy.”

“Whatever man, you can’t blame me for trying,” Gordon laughed, playfully shoving Tommy where his hand had previously rested on the other man’s shoulder. Tommy laughed in return. He only noticed the warmth of Gordon’s touch once it was gone.

Tommy absentmindedly noticed the time on the wall clock in Gordon’s apartment. Jesus, 11:30? When did it get so late? The older scientist really hoped he wasn’t overstaying his welcome; While he would love to just stay here and joke around, he had already bothered Mr. Freeman enough and was already exhausted.

“I- I’m probably gonna head back home now, I didn’t realize how late it was,” Tommy said, standing up from his spot next to Gordon.

Gordon nodded. He had the passing thought of offering for Tommy to stay but… maybe that was a step too far. ‘Tommy probably wants his space,’ Gordon rationalized to himself.

He nodded, “Alright, don’t let me keep you,” he said, getting up as well to help Tommy gather his belongings. Which, to be honest Tommy didn’t bring much but some snacks for the group, but Gordon just needed an excuse to do anything.

Gordon walked Tommy to the front door of his apartment, like the good host he was, opening the door for him.

“Thanks for coming over Tommy,” he said.

Tommy nodded. “Thank- thank you again for letting me talk about Benrey, I know it was kinda rough there at the end, but if you ever need to talk about anything… I'm here for you as well.”

Gordon smiled, “Thank you Tommy, I'll keep that in mind.”

Tommy smiled in return, “Have a good night G-Gordon,” he said turning to head to his car.

“Goodnight Tommy.” Gordon turns to head back inside, but before he does, he can’t resist one more jab.

“Thought you could teleport?” he calls out teasingly.

Tommy flips him off, which causes Gordon to laugh harder. “Gives me a headache,” Tommy called back, trying and failing keep a straight face.

Gordon laughs as he waves a final goodbye, turning back inside and closing the door after Tommy waves as well. His thoughts race as he gets ready for bed, trying to ignore his fluttering heartbeat as he lays down for the night.

Tommy shuffles his thoughts in his head as he drives home. The emotional rollercoaster of his already draining social interaction meter from the science team, his Benrey guilt, and his small crush on Gordon was just too much for one day. His hands clench and unclench the steering wheel, looking forward to collapsing in bed for the night, hoping his dad won’t notice he'd been crying.

Somewhere, in an interdimensional void far away from this reality, someone begins to shift awake.

#fanfic #hlvrai #half life vr but the ai is self aware #freelatta

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pandemiart · 4 years

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This is a rant for why I distanced myself from a lot of ppl and the positive changes in I saw in myself afterwards.

The last few months have been an exercise in self love and prioritizing happiness for me. After literally years of me consistently putting out more than I got back in the sense of effort and priority, I just decided in October to completely stop that shit and focus on what drives my happiness.

Like in the past I was always breaking my neck to help ppl do this, that, and the third not really caring what I got out of it. Or allowing other ppl “space” because I felt like I was trying too hard to have fun or hangout with them and it was off-putting. Which I linked to the sparse (meaningful) communication or hangout sessions.

And I completely understand that ppl have their own lives and all. But what got me was the fact that with those individuals it was like I’m the on-call supportive friend. And almost expected me to prioritize their needs over whatever else I was doing. And like a dickhead I’d go in most cases 😪... even if I didn’t fully want to. Because you’re supposed to be there for your friends and I thought well I’ll go to this thing and I’ll have some fun (never happened) and invite them to my things so win-win. But naw. Like any request I’d make would be met with excuses as to why they couldn’t hang or couldn’t game or didn’t want to go this place or didn’t really like this person or this venue etc. and if in the rare case they did participate they’d be fucking buzz kills or if in group things hating o the other ppl having a good time. Like wtf?

So I cut that part out of myself. I used all that focus and energy I’d put into those ppl on finding or / remembering what makes me happy and rediscovering what activities I liked to do before I stopped caring about my intake of energy and legitimate enjoyment. I stopped inviting, I stopped offering advice, I stopped checking up, I stopped reaching out all together. And I started only doing so when I WANTED to. Instead of because I was free.

So after months of little to no communication on my part and the clear fact that I wasn’t prioritizing them, those individuals would try SO fucking hard to like reconnect. And it was always the same formula... maybe I’d like a nice picture or post something and then they’ll hop in my dms like “omg we need to hangout” or “wow that (whatever) looks so cool! Are you (some shitty ploy to spark conversation)?” I’d reply short and sweet, if at all. Then they’d try to roll right back into that shit dynamic of trying to force me into like pitying them, or helping them solve some issue that they are poorly handling. And I end the conversation. Because naw son. Can’t get me again 😂 lol. Literally fuck y’all.

Now that I have this new mindset I’ve been noticing positive changes. Like my hair is getting thicker (thought I was thinning for a year yo), my eating habits are better, I’m playing my instruments more and actually learning and enjoying the process, I’m more active and going to the gym or like working out at home more, I’m painting and drawing more because I’m inspired more often and have the energy. Like I fucking rediscovered my love of dancing. I caught myself dancing while cleaning and I’m like wow, I was a good dancer and did it a lot when I was like 8 - 16yrs old. Like what happened? And I’m like oh, I started devoting my time to other people’s needs instead of my own passions.

So if you’ve read all this, thanks lol. I needed to rant a bit and celebrate a bit. Because I should have caught on earlier, but it’s better late than never. If you think it’s about you, it’s probably not because I dont talked to many ppl I know irl that are also on tumblr... But if the fucking shoe fits 🤷🏾‍♂️

#personal #fake people #rediscover #self love #self worth #priorities

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hotseok · 5 years

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1Hey thanks for listening sorry its so long! So basically i had this group in hs,it was me,D,E,and C. We were all best friends. Then we graduated, moved out to the same city in a new country. First two weeks,me and D are inseparable,We got even closer than we were in hs. I should mention E and D had been best friends for 10 years and when D was going through some shit in senior year,we were all there for him,but especially C,but as soon as he starts making new friends he slowly distances himself

2from us. I’m talking like every weekend we invite him to go out he was “busy with school” (we went to different unis) yet we would see him on snap go out three times in one weekend with his uni friends. We invited him to this restaurant but “he was too broke” yet a couple days later we bumped into him coming out of it with guess what? his new friends. This goes on until october until E decides to talk to him, he came over and we called him out, he madebullshit excuses but we let it go. Couple 3Couple weeks later he starts doing the same thing, this time we dont react and we dont see him until april when E wanted her jacket back. We go to his place, he comes out with his friends (why??)who just stand far watching us and giggling,while we have the most awkward 30 second convo of all time. He didnt even try to make it work. Few days later, E texts him to meet up bc she was going to have a semester abroad and wouldnt be n the country for a few months,no reply. Summer passes, she contacts 4him again, they eventually smooth things over. I talked to her a couple days ago and she said he was depressed, he realised his new friends were extremely toxic, dragging him into bad shit, etc, etc. Parallel to this, I had plans this week to have lunch with a mutual friend of all of us, M. She just texted me saying she bumped into D and invited him. And she talked to me about patching things up with him before. E wants the same. I was very angry with him for a while,but i’ve moved on now. But 5But it doesn’t mean i wanna patch things up. I don’t know why but i just don’t care enough to make any sort of effort. Like, he was going through some shit last year ? So were all of us. I feel kind of bad, i intend to be honest and tell him what i just said, but i don’t want to come off like this attitude is my punishment. I legitimately have no energy and zero fucks to give, one because of what he did but also bc my life is really falling apart and i have a lot of shit to deal with. 6 Do you think i’m right or that i should try making more of an effort ? (again sorry i tried to make it as short as possible it's a long story but thanks for reading)

---- wait okay sorry it took me so long to reply firstly I fell asleep yesterday and then got swarmed with uni today but anyway,, if there's one thing ima say it's that you come first always. and honestly if you can't be bothered to patch things up then don't force yourself. like of course if he was going thru things and distancing himself from you as a result that's fine like I guess everyone copes different but doesn't mean it doesn't hurt?? and if after all that you don't want to patch things up then like tbh imo it's fine. & if you do wanna tell him everything for closure to get it off your chest then do so especially if all of your og group of friends will be there like it might be a great time to hash things out and see where they go. maybe talking about it would even change your mind or just get you closure either way once again you come first I suck as hell at giving advice lmfao but yeah---

#asks

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moonbeammuses-a · 6 years

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Mobile Rules

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I have tons of things going on with life and can't (unfortunately) RP with everyone I meet. I wish could, but I don't have the time nor the energy.

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I'll keep them as simple as I can. Lots of clarification in the details, but at LEAST read the main points.

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This blog WILL have smut. I am 26 and all of my muses are adults, though I do have teen/childverses for most of them.

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HOWEVER, I am always down to plot a relationship between our muses, so we can send memes with abandon!

"But I've already sent you a meme!" Great, SEND ME MORE. More asks means more chance one will inspire me. I always feel really bad when I get just the one meme from someone I REALLY want to play with, but am uninspired for how to reply. You can always send multiples, and I encourage it.

Do NOT overload a meme with muses/questions. Be considerate about how many things you are asking for per ask. There is no hard line for this, but I'd prefer a max of 3 "parts" to an ask. An example could be one question for three muses, or three different questions for one muse. but don't send me several questions for several muses. I will ignore and delete the ask.

"But I've never sent you anything!" Great, let's start now. If we are Mutuals, I WANT TO PLAY WITH YOU

"But our characters are from different fandoms!" Great, let's see what happens when they meet! did one fall through a wormhole and end up in the others' universe? Was one cryo-frozen for centuries? Is it an AU? LETS FIND OUT! Just, again, no pre-established ships without chatting with me via IM! I won't bite if you wanna ask aout a pairing or a ship!

-SPECIFY WHAT MUSE YOU ARE SENDING THE MEME TO OR IT WILL BE DELETED. THERE ARE NO EXCEPTIONS TO THIS RULE.

-NO NSFW ANONS

If you’re an adult, there’s no reason you can’t send me an NSFW ask as yourself. Tag it OOC if you need to, I dont care, but no anon NSFW.

-Yes, you can turn the Ask into a thread, but MAKE A NEW POST

It's frustrating as hell seeing the exact same grey blocks of text on every single post in a thread, ESPECIALLY if it was an ask with a long answer. Be considerate of me, and help me be considerate of my followers, by turning asks into new posts if you want to continue a thread. I will endeavor to always follow this rule, as well.

BE AWARE: I will drop a thread that began with an ask when I lose interest UNLESS you tell me you want to keep it and there is mutual interest/inspiration. I have so many small threads going that came from asks, that i will 99% likely NOT remember to say anything. If you want to turn something into a plotted thread, TELL ME

-NO GODMODDING OR METAGAMING

DO NOT PLAY MY CHARACTER FOR ME UNLESS YOU ASK ME. want my character to auto-block a hit? Ask me. Maybe they’re in a different mindset than you think and wouldn’t see it coming. I don’t care how small the action. ASK. ME. FIRST.

Also, in the same vein, don’t do a multitude of things without giving my character a chance to respond to any of them. Maybe they would have grabbed your character’s arm instead of just letting them storm off. Maybe they would have said something before your character made it across the room and out the door.

DO NOT try to force my muse to harm or otherwise take advantage of yours. Take a hint. If my muse is specifically avoiding hurting your muse, do NOT pigeonhole them into injuring your muse. Do not injure your muse because my muse refused to do so. Get your hurt kink BS somewhere else.

In addition, do not punish my character for inaction. If them not moving will lead to your character harming themselves, warn me first. Don't punish my muses for not knowing what to do by hurting your muse.

-Don't Auto-Ship

If you want a pre-established relationship, whether it's romance, sex, family, or even friendship, talk to me first. If you assume my muse knows yours, that your muse lives with mine, anything like that, there is a 100% chance I will get uncomfortable and drop the thread, likely also unfollowing you.

IN ADDITION, Don't force ships. My character is not required to fall for yours, or even like them. If I feel you are forcing a ship, I will stop replying.

-BE ADVISED THAT THIS IS AN NSFW BLOG WITH POTENTIALLY TRIGGERING CONTENT

I am saying this again because it’s important. I am open to roleplaying with such content as torture, abuse, trauma, sexual assault, character death, etc. Please be advised of this, and use caution if any of these topics bother or trigger you. I do not Romanticize any of these things, but I have mature-themed threads where these things may occur.

IF ASKED, I will TRY to tag content that may be triggering, but do not always recognize potential triggers. I have ADHD and do not always tag before posting. Please be advised of the potential that something may not be tagged.

If you have specific triggers WARN ME. I will do my utmost to be respectful of your triggers but I cannot read minds.

-Contrary-wise, Respect My Triggers

I ask that rape, non-con, sexual assault, be tagged PLEASE. just because I can RP it doesn’t mean I am ok with being surprised by it on my dash.

-Give Me Something To Work With In Your Reply

I understand that there aren’t always multiple paragraphs worth of information to contribute in a scenario. I don’t always expect as much. But I cannot do one-line RP. Nothing against those who can. I won’t.

-DO NOT, DO NOT, DO NOT REBLOG MY MUSE CONTENT

If I have created something specifically for MY muses, such as an aesthetic/moodboard, or a discussion of their psyche, or even a drabble, DO NOT reblog without getting my permission first. If your muse or blog is tagged in the post, you are more than welcome to reblog it and share it. Otherwise, ask me first. Content I put my heart and soul into writing out for my muses is important to me, and is not for others to use with their work.

#{{ Mobile Rules }}#Kitty says Meow #Long Post

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woodsens · 4 years

Text

The 12 Worst Types best beginner keyboard piano

Correction Appended

On an album of bittersweet childrens music that she wrote more than a decade back, the lady who arrived to get recognised only given that the piano teacher available what, in hindsight, seems like an eerie glimpse of her personal foreseeable future.

Im moving absent nowadays to a location so far-off, the place nobody knows my title, she wrote from the lyrics of a song referred to as Shifting.

When she wrote that music, she was young and vivacious, a piano teacher and freelance audio writer who liked Beethoven and jazz, sunsets and river Appears, lengthy walks and every little thing about The big apple.

On a kind of beloved walks, via Central Park in the bright Sunshine of the June day in 1996, a homeless drifter conquer her and tried to rape her, leaving her clinging to life. Once the assault, the terms to her music came legitimate. She moved absent, away from Ny city, outside of her outdated lifestyle, and all but her closest buddies didn't know her title. To the rest of the environment, she was — like the much more well known jogger attacked in Central Park seven yrs before — an anonymous image of the city nightmare. She was the piano Instructor.

Now, within the 10th anniversary of your attack, she is celebrating what seems to be her total Restoration from brain trauma. She is forty two, married, with a little baby. She is Kyle Kevorkian McCann, the piano teacher, and he or she hopes to explain to her Tale, her way.

Her medical professional explained to her it will take ten years to Get well, and Sunday was that talismanic anniversary. I come to feel my everyday living continues to be redefined by Central Park, she claimed a number of days in the past, her voice delicate and hopeful. Just before park; following park. Will there at any time certainly be a time Once i dont think, Oh, this is the 10th anniversary, the eleventh anniversary?

She spoke in her modest ranch household in a very wooded subdivision inside a The big apple suburb. She sat inside of a eating area strewn with toys, surrounded by images of her cherubic, darkish-haired 2-yr-aged daughter. A Steinway grand stuffed 50 percent the room, and at a single position she sat down and performed. Her playing was forceful, but she seemed humiliated to play various bars, and shrugged, as opposed to answering, when asked the title from the piece. She requested that her daughter and her city not be named.

She calls that day, June 4, 1996, the day when I was damage.

Hers was the very first in a string of assaults by precisely the same man on 4 women about 8 times. The last sufferer, Evelyn Alvarez, 65, was crushed to Demise as she opened her Park Avenue dry-cleansing store, and ultimately, the assailant, John J. Royster, was convicted of murder and sentenced to life in jail.

Still the assault over the piano Instructor would be the one particular people feel to remember probably the most. Part of the fascination must do with echoes in the 1989 assault over the Central Park jogger. But Additionally, it frightened men and women in a way the attack within the jogger didn't simply because its situations have been so mundane.

It didn't happen in a very distant part of the park late during the night, but in close proximity to a well known playground at 3 inside the afternoon. It could have occurred to anybody. The stress was heightened by the thriller with the piano teachers id.

For three times, as law enforcement and Medical doctors experimented with to see who she was, she lay inside a coma in her clinic bed, nameless. Her moms and dads were on trip and her boyfriend, also a musician, was in Europe, on tour. Last but not least, among her pupils regarded a law enforcement sketch and was able to detect her from the clinic by her fingers, mainly because her face was swollen beyond recognition. The law enforcement did not release her name.

The very last thing she remembers about June 4, 1996, is offering a lesson in her studio condominium on West 57th Road, then Placing her very long hair inside of a ponytail and going out to get a walk. She won't try to remember the attack, Though she has read the accounts from the law enforcement and prosecutors.

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To me its similar to a actuality I learned and memorized, she said. Just as if I have been a pupil in school studying record.

She won't take into consideration The person who did it. I may need been angry for any minute, although not much longer than that, she mentioned. How could I be offended at John Royster? He was declared not crazy, but I assume by our expectations he was.

Dr. Jamshid Ghajar, her health care provider at Ny Healthcare facility-Cornell Healthcare Heart, as it was identified in 1996, informed reporters that she experienced a 10 per cent possibility of survival. Medical practitioners experienced to get rid of her forehead bone, which was later replaced, to produce home for her swelling Mind. When her mother manufactured a community attract pray for my daughter, countless numbers did.

Soon after 8 times, she arrived outside of a coma, to start with inside a vegetative state, then in the childlike state. As she recovered, she slept minor and talked consistently, sometimes in gibberish. I used to be having mad at folks after they didnt reply to these words and phrases, she claimed.

Like an Alzheimers affected individual, she had very little brief-term memory and would ignore guests once they remaining the space.

More than various months, she had to relearn the way to walk, gown, examine and produce. Her boyfriend, Tony Scherr, frequented every day to Perform guitar for her. He encouraged her to Engage in the piano, in opposition to the recommendation of her Bodily therapists, who believed she would be pissed off by her lack of ability to Enjoy just how she at the time had. Mr. Scherr performed Beatles duets with her, participating in the still left-hand portion though she performed the correct.

That was my best therapy, she said.

In August, she moved again residence to New Jersey, together with her father, an engineer, and mother, a schoolteacher. She visited outdated haunts and named friends, striving to restore her shattered memory. I used to be pretty obsessed with remembering, she mentioned. Any memory reduction was to me an indication of abnormality or deficit.

Her therapists believed her development was fantastic, but her two sisters protested that she wasn't the deep thinker she had been.

What bothered her most was that she experienced lost the opportunity to cry, just as if a faucet within her brain had been turned off. A person evening, 9 months just after she was harm, she stayed up late to look at the John Grisham Motion picture A The perfect time to Get rid of. Just immediately after her father experienced long gone to bed, she viewed a courtroom scene of Samuel Jacksons character on trial for killing two Gentlemen who had raped his younger daughter.

The faucet opened, plus the tears trickled down her cheeks. I thought about my mom and dad, my father, and what they went by means of, she explained. Minimal by tiny, my experience returned, my depth of mind returned.

Urged by her sisters, she went back to highschool and acquired a masters diploma in tunes schooling.

Not every thing went nicely. She and Mr. Scherr split up 5 years following the assault, even though they continue to be good friends. She dated other Guys, but she usually instructed them regarding the assault straight away — she couldn't aid it, she mentioned — they usually hardly ever known as for the second date.

We have to uncover you anyone, her Mate David Phelps, a guitar participant, said four yrs ago, in advance of introducing her to Liam McCann, a pc technician and amateur drummer. For once, she didn't say just about anything with regard to the assault till she acquired to grasp Mr. McCann, and after that when she did, he admired her strength.

Mayor Rudolph W. Giuliani, who had normally frequented her at her bedside when she was inside the healthcare facility, married them in his Times Sq. office. She wore a blue gown and pearls. Whilst she was pregnant, within a burst of creativeness, she and her mates recorded Even though Were being Youthful, an album of childrens songs that she experienced prepared ahead of the attack, including the tune Transferring. Her ex-boyfriend, Mr. Scherr, developed the CD. On it, her partner plays drums and she plays electric piano.

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Is her life as it absolutely was? Not accurately, nevertheless she's unwilling to attribute the discrepancies to her injuries. Her previous two piano college students still left her, without the need of calling to explain why, she stated. She has resumed taking part in classical new music, but simple pieces, for the reason that her daughter would not give her time and energy to exercise. As for jazz, I dont even attempt, she claimed.

She wish to generate far more, sensation stranded within the suburbs, but she is definitely rattled. She tries to be articles with staying dwelling and caring for her daughter.

Dr. Ghajar, a medical professor of neurological operation at what is now identified as New York-Presbyterian Hospital/Weill Cornell Clinical Center, who operated on Ms. Kevorkian McCann after the attack, said last week that her amount of recovery was rare. Shes basically usual, he said.

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Other specialists, who're not personally accustomed to Ms. Kevorkian McCanns case, are more careful.

Regaining the ability to play the piano might contain an Practically mechanical method, a semiautomatic remember of what the fingers ought to do, mentioned Dr. Yehuda Ben-Yishay, a professor of scientific rehabilitation medication at New York College School of Medication. When brain-wounded, you happen to be always brain-injured, for the rest of your lifetime, Dr. Ben-Yishay stated. There's no overcome, There exists only intensive compensation.

The greater telling Portion of a Restoration, in his perspective, is psychological, and on that rating he counts Ms. Kevorkian McCanns relationship and kid as a major victory.

For her aspect, the piano teacher understands she has changed, but she has designed her peace with it. I was type of a hyper —— I dont know if I used to be a Type A, but I was bold, she claims. Why was I so formidable? I used to be a piano Trainer. I dont really know what the ambition was about. I actually did return to the person Im purported to be.

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thisnerdsadventures · 4 years

Text

how operating systems went for me

the beginning

In the beginning, there was doubt. And fear. But mostly doubt, because I “sort of” knew C, and I could /kind of/ figure out page tables, and I took the prereq for the class, so it shouldn’t be that bad? Well, I was expecting it to be bad, but absolutely nothing worse than 046 right? because that was known to be the worst of CS at this school, so nothing could be worse than that....right?

Wrong. WRONG! First class I was like, ah you know, i know Linux. I’ve OPENED A FILE BEFORE. I know what a FILE DESCRIPTOR IS. (wrong. i truly did not know what a file descriptor was, in all of its essence.) If you read my Admissions post, you’d know that my life was in the process of being truly wrecked by my paper revisions, so I wasn’t able to start on the first lab until the weekend, and it took me around an hour to do the first exercise, which was really one solid line of code, and I was like well ok, there’s only like five exercises, shouldn’t be too bad.

WRONG AGAIN! the last exercise will forever be engraved in my brain as xargs because it took me and my friend K a solid TEN HOURS. to do the last exercise. JUST THE LAST ONE. It was the first time in maybe like a year I went to an office hours. I had never spent so long thinking about recursion in my life. I have really vivid memories of sitting at the rooftop garden with K at the poolside chairs near the Marriott staring back at the googz office, tear streaming down my face, as I thought ahead about whether I should drop the class early. (ok it wasn’t this dramatic, but I was definitely staring longingly at the coffee baristas through the window.)

And after we finished the lab, we thought, oh maybe this is just a poor learning curve. Maybe it gets better from here.

the crisis begins

*say it with me this time* WROOOOONG - we really thought the next lab would be better because it seemed like the last exercise of the last lab, but slightly expanded. but L o L! we had spent a solid five hours with no progress up until like 3am, when I lied in bed in the dark and panic emailed my advisor, asking to meet the next day. There is a calendar event in my calendar called Cry to John (john’s my advisor). I spent perhaps the entire next day up until my meeting at 4pm working on the lab, making a bit more progress after going to office hours. During my meeting, I relayed how hard the class had been so far, and whether I should drop it to the undergrad version of the class, and it got to the point where I was just like “but its just. SO HARD” and he replied “....it’s a grad class dude”

After I returned home, I consulted my head of house and he also suggested I either drop the class or drop it to the undergrad version. I really was like “lol my dude, I’m already only on 42 units, I can’t really just drop this class. it’s already like two and a half weeks into the semester.” So I ended up dropping it to undergrad status.

A few more late nights pulled because I *surprise* have OTHER CLASSES other than this one, and I still ended up staying up til nearly 3am the night before career fair finishing up the lab. A total of more than 20 hours spent on this lab, and I thought, maybe just maybe this would be the hardest lab.

And the next lab wasn’t too bad. I had spent a solid 12 hours on it, but got it done pretty efficiently. Unfortunately, it was still the time in the semester where I was doing like 1923819238 things and catching up with 1928319238 people, so it felt overwhelming, but wasn’t /that/ bad. so i thought things were turning up! I also met up with my old googz team at around this point and told them that it was a hell class, and they relayed their sympathies.

lazy_alloc

So was it in fact, getting better? WRONGGGGGG. the next lab was perhaps the WORST LAB OF THE ENTIRE CLASS. By this point, we had hit the first week of october, and I had deleted instagram off my phone in an attempt to better focus on classes. due to other things happening, like various house gov events, an 18.06 exam, and another pset, I was only able to put in around 6 hours of office hours time on this lab before Wednesday night, where K and I quickly realized that this shit was no joke, unlike the last lab. We had also met our other friend at office hours who would become the third member of our group chat kalloc==0 (iykyk), and we befriended her after including her in our sarcastic comments about lazy allocation. It was maybe four hours into an all-nighter that we went to Verdes, realized Verdes was closed, and proceeded to sit on the floor of the student center and yell about how hard this class was.

It was then like 5am, and I decided to sleep and wake up in the morning to look at it again. It was then 8:30 am, and then it was 12pm, and then it was 4pm, and I had mandatory class. My friend passed me in Stata and asked how i was, and i replied “look at me. LOOK AT ME”

It was then 6pm. I had spent 20 hours of the past 24 hours doing this lab. and the most extraordinary thing happened -- I got the OK. I cried. I weeped. I texted my friends and let them know I was alive. And I slept for a long time.

exam szn

Ok truly, things could not get that much worse after this right? WRONGGGGGG. the first exam was just around the corner! After maybe a week of rest, I started the grind, a painful realization that I knew nothing, I did not truly know what a page table was, I had no idea how a system call worked, and the throwing shit at the wall style of doing the labs was indeed going to catch up with me. It was the long weekend, but I was still studying 4-6 hours a day on top of everything else I was doing, and many nights in the student center were spent in sadness. I barely remember anything from this caffeine/adrenaline fueled week. And I got a whopping 40% on the exam! yay me

All I remember after the exam was crying from shock in Stata after the exam because it was so hard, eating too much at hot pot and nearly throwing up in the Uber, and almost punching a hole in the ceiling because I was so happy that my score was not single digits. I was actually so tired after a week of studying nonstop that I had to S^3 one of my other psets because I legitimately could not think nor read. My friend was then like why dont you just yeet to new york for a break, and i was like who in the right mind would do that??? and then i yeeted to new york (as you can read about in another post of mine). Truly an amazing decision because I really needed a break from that craziness. After that, the learning curve did chill a little. My life though? no, I went to Princeton for a hackathon, stayed up all night doing stuff for our party, and then managed to finish the very last lab of the class right before Thanksgiving break.

the finish line

This brings us to the last week of the semester, where I thank my lucky stars I dropped to the undergrad version of the class, because I watched K suffer through a whole week of all nighters for the final project, in which I definitely would have straight up had a mental breakdown, because that week was still somehow one of the worst weeks of the semester for me (two poster sessions, exam, two week pset). But luckily I was straight up j chilling until the final because i had finished the last lab before break.

obviously, this takes us to last week, which was our finals week, where I spent 40-50 hours over the course of a week just studying for this exam, which features a day where I had done a midterm from 9am-12pm and then proceeded to study from 2pm to 2am for this operating systems class, and I had had three cups of coffee, which I don’t strongly recommend as a life decision. But after much strife and anxiety, I had mustered out a 60/76 on the final exam, which I thought was a solid B, but much to my shock and my other friend’s delight (she checked my class grade for me), I actually somehow got an A after this shit of a class, despite not knowing how to use a pointer 3 months ago, despite trying to survive against grad students, despite having to pour 18239128983x energy into understanding lectures??? somehow. anyways, now i am absolutely sure I have gone through the worst thing you could ever go through in this school. if anything turns out to be harder than this, i’m pretty sure it’s not worth it lol

#m #it is truly amazing people follow this blog

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emberprince · 7 years

Note

Arthur

aw yiss

Why I like them

Arthur is so young and naive but he’s also so kind! He has to run a goddamn kingdom at the age of 16! I think it’s amazing that he’s able to handle so much responsibility. You can tell that he tries so hard (to the point of saying he doesn’t have a favorite food because dignified kings don’t have favorite foods). He has a lot of energy and, like Diane, is incredibly positive all the time. We very rarely see him down, and he has so much on his shoulders, being a little stressed now and again is entirely reasonable.

Why I don’t

God. I made up stuff for Diane and King but I legitimately can’t think of anything I don’t like about Arthur. Every character is flawed but that doesn’t mean I dislike the flaws!

Favorite episode (scene if movie)

Chapter 179, where Arthur, Nanashi, and a bunch of the knights are fighting the demons near Baste Prison. It’s such a good scene with a lot of good dialogue. I also like the scene in the maze when Arthur confessed to Meliodas that he envied him for having people that care about him so much, and after Meliodas replied “It’s not what others think of you…It’s what you think of others that matters”, Arthur’s determination to save Merlin was so nice!!

Favorite line

”Be that as it may, somebody has to do it! As long as we never give up, one day, the light will shine through!”

Favorite outfit

armor + cath

so for some reason the image I tried to add didn’t load, here is the url

OTP

I want to ship Arthur with Nanashi but I don’t know Nanashi’s age yet so…none I guess

Brotp

Arthur and Cath!!!!!!

Head Canon

Like my King and Helbram headcanon, Arthur often talks to Cath in his spare time. Like. Let’s be honest, if you have a cat, you talk to them all the time. I think Arthur does this with Cath, which is how Cath picked up the speech patterns so quickly.

Unpopular opinion

Are there really any unpopular opinions about this boi

A wish

Go back to camelot and kick Zeldris’s ass!! I hope Arthur takes back Camelot and rules with Cath

An oh-god-please-dont-ever-happen

Anything bad. Ever. Please. Don’t let anything happen to this lil king… I love him so much,,,(actually the angst would hurt me but like I’d be happy abt it..kinda)

5 words to best describe them

Bright

Dignified

Noble

Cheerful

Committed

Nickname

So I don’t have nicknames for like…any characters…maybe something cheesy…mac n’ cheese boi

Send me a character!

#arthur #cath #nanashi #merlin #nanatsu no taizai #the seven deadly sins #gowther

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rpf-bat · 7 years

Text

The Ghost Of You

Pairing: Gerard Way x Reader

Genre: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Summary: Request fic for @bipolardonnie. “okay! can i request a non-sad oneshot about ghost!reader and revenge gee? i dont have any specific ideas in mind so anything is good! xx”

A/N: Not sure if I delivered on “non-sad”, but here ya go.

“Wow, this venue looks like it’s really old,” commented a loud voice, drawing your attention.

So another group of musicians had come to the place you had called home since your death. There hadn’t been a show here in a while. The throng of young, living people here for the concert tonight would certainly make your haunt less lonely.

“Yeah, this bar was originally a speakeasy in the 1920’s,” the owner of the building said informatively as he unlocked the door.

“That’s so cool,” another voice said excitedly. “So, why isn’t this space used more often?”

“Well,” the owner confessed as he opened the door, throwing bright sunlight into your dusty abode, “some people say it’s haunted.”

“…..Haunted?” repeated the first speaker as he walked in. He was an oddly dressed man, with a partially shaved head and a bulletproof vest. Was this the fashion in the land of the living nowadays?

“Yeah,” the owner said nervously, entering second. “Why, does that make you want to reconsider performing here tonight?”

“Not at all,” grinned the second man you’d heard speak, and your eyes widened when you saw how handsome he was. He had long, black hair, and he wore a black suit with a red tie that was much more in line with the fashions you remembered. “We all love horror movies, so haunted’s a plus!”

Movies, you thought. Those had been a new invention when you’d died. Were they still silent? Or could actors talk in them now?

“Think we’ll see any ghosts tonight?” wondered a third man, who wore glasses and a nervous expression, as he entered the building.

You very much doubted it. Nobody had ever been able to actually see you. For the first fifty years or so, this had frustrated you immensely. You’d wanted to communicate, to tell people that you were here. But, most of the people you’d known in life were dead now. They had rushed onwards to the Other Side, not sticking around as you had. It was a lonely afterlife – but, by now, you were used to it.

“We don’t have time to chase ghosts,” a fourth man, with wild, frizzy hair, said as he entered. “We have to get started with soundcheck.”

“I’ll get onstage in a second,” the handsome one shrugged. “I gotta fix my makeup first, though.”

Makeup? you thought curiously. In your day, makeup was not something worn by gentlemen. You weren’t against the idea – you just wondered how much times had changed since your demise.

“All that white face paint makes you look undead,” the loud man chuckled.

“Yeah, that’s the point,” the dark-haired man grinned.

This comment perplexed you. Why would anyone aspire to be undead? You were undead yourself, you supposed. A soul that had died, but hadn’t moved on to peaceful rest. Some might even call you damned.

You hadn’t wanted to haunt this place for eternity. When you’d died, you thought you would find nothingness – an absence of all feeling. That was what you craved. You hadn’t believed in life after death until you saw it. If you had known you’d end up stuck here, perhaps you would have tried harder to cling to life.

As the other men left the backstage area where you sat, carrying their equipment towards the stage, you watched the handsome brunette as he applied face powder in the mirror. You’d used this mirror yourself, many years ago. Now, the cheeks you’d fastidiously kept soft and rosy had long since rotted, leaving only a skull behind. You shuddered when you thought of your body in the cemetery across town, vacant of the soul that still remained in the room where you had breathed your last.

“Ooh, it’s cold in here,” the man muttered to himself as he opened a palette of eyeshadow and placed the brush in a red hue.

Was it? you wondered. Neither cold, nor heat, nor pain had touched you in decades.

That was one of the advantages of being dead, you supposed. Another was that you could stare openly at handsome strangers without being caught. You drew closer to the man, waving a hand in front of his face. He didn’t blink. You weren’t surprised.

You looked him up and down as you watched him brush the shadow onto his eyelids. He had large hands, and what looked to be a strong body. If you were alive, you were sure your face would’ve become flushed.

“Hurry up, Gerard,” shouted the man with the glasses.

So, his name is Gerard, you realized.

“Sorry, I’m coming, Mikey,” Gerard apologized, walking out onto the stage. You floated behind him, following him. You remembered the jazz bands you’d watched perform on this stage once. You’d foxtrotted merrily across the dance floor, having the time of your life.

Those were good days, you thought nostalgically. I wish I’d lived to see more of them.

The music the strange men began to play as they checked to see if their instruments were working was nothing like the tunes you remembered. But, as you listened, you found that it was still rather beautiful.

“This night, walk the dead….,” Gerard crooned as the band launched into another song.

You have no idea, you thought to yourself with a wry smile.

“…..In a solitary style, and crash the cemetery gates,” Gerard continued to sing, “in the dress your husband hates….Lay down, mark the grave, where the searchlights find us drinking by the mausoleum door…..And they found you on the bathroom floor!”

It was coincidence, surely, but the irony was that you had been found dead on a bathroom floor. The floor of the women’s restroom in the back of this bar, to be precise.

It wasn’t a very dignified place to die, you considered in hindsight. You wished you had chosen a better one.

“I miss you,” Gerard sang. “I miss you so far…..”

You became melancholy, for a moment, as you wondered whether there was anyone left alive who still missed you. You were aware that your younger sister had died ten years ago, at the age of eighty-six.

You tried to distract yourself from these thoughts by listening to the rest of the band’s practice. A lot of their songs, you noticed, seemed fixated on the concept of death. It troubled you – as someone who had experienced it personally, you didn’t find death to be all that appealing.

“Hey, boys,” the owner shouted to the band when they were done. “People are going to start arriving soon, so if you’re done rehearsing, you can go backstage for a while until the show starts.”

“Alright,” the peculiarly-dressed man from earlier shrugged, setting down his guitar. “Wanna have a beer with me before the kids get here, Gee?”

“In a minute, Frank,” Gerard replied. “I gotta talk to Jim about something.”

Jim, you remembered. That was the owner’s name. You really should know this by now, but he came around the building so seldom. Even less than his father, or his grandfather (the original owner of the building) had done. Perhaps he was scared of ghosts. If he was, that was silly – you couldn’t even muster up the energy to make yourself visible, let alone perpetrate poltergeist activity. Not that you wanted to hurt anyone, anyway. Mostly, you just wanted someone to talk to.

You hovered curiously by Gerard’s side, wondering what it was he and Jim needed to discuss.

“You said this place was haunted, right?” Gerard asked.

“That’s right,” Jim nodded. “There hasn’t been that much ghost activity here, to be honest, though. People mostly just say that because a young woman died here, back in 1924.”

“Oh, yeah?” Gerard raised an eyebrow. “What was her name?”

They’re talking about me, you thought. It was nice to hear someone ask your name first. Normally, people’s very first (and often only) question was, How did she die?

“They say her name was Y/N,” Jim explained. “She was real young when she passed, too. It was a tragedy.”

“Did she work here?” Gerard wondered.

Jim had to think about this. He was used to being asked about the grisly details of your last day, not about the regular circumstances of your life. Part of you kind of hated that almost all of what people remembered about you anymore was how you’d died – not how you’d lived.

“Yeah, I think my grandpa said she was a cocktail waitress,” Jim recalled.

You hadn’t originally planned to be a waitress your whole life. You’d wanted to eventually leave that line of work for a more glamorous career. Maybe if you’d lived a little longer, you would have.

“She was dating a singer in one of the bands who performed here,” Jim illuminated.

“Like me,” Gerard smiled.

“Nah, nothing like you, son,” Jim shook his head. “He was in the Mafia, I think. A real bad fella.”

He was a jerk, you frowned. You hadn’t realized this until long after your death. When you were alive, you’d loved him – and you’d thought he loved you.

“He got angry, because Y/N had brought a guy friend ‘round to the bar, and he thought Y/N and this man were sneaking around together behind his back,” Jim revealed.

We weren’t sneaking around at all! you thought angrily. We were just friends! Why wouldn’t he just trust me when I said that?!

“Did he kill her out of jealousy, or something?” Gerard asked, alarmed.

“No,” Jim said sadly. “He killed the young man, and, well…..Y/N thought it was her fault. She couldn’t live with herself after that happened, and so, one night, she went into that washroom over there, and well……she took her own life.”

“That’s so sad,” Gerard gasped. He looked like he was legitimately about to cry.

“Well, it was a long time ago,” Jim said, patting Gerard on the shoulder. “In fact, since it’s 2004 now….it’ll be eighty years ago this year.”

Eighty years, you thought, stricken. Have I really been dead for eighty years?!

Jim walked away, but Gerard remained alone on the stage, looking out towards the dancefloor like he was trying to imagine you, and your best friend, and your awful ex-boyfriend, standing there.

You saw him wipe his eyes on his sleeve, and you realized he really was crying.

“Why are you crying for me?” you muttered softly. “You didn’t even know me……”

Gerard’s head jerked up, as if he’d been shocked, and his eyes went wide. “H-hello?” he stammered, clearly unnerved.

Wait a minute…..No. There was no way.

“Did you just……hear me?” you gasped.

Gerard’s eyes darted around the room, like he was trying to find the source of your voice.

“…………Y/N?” he asked finally, almost not willing to believe it.

“Yes,” you said softly, in shock. “It’s me. Hello.”

“……Hi there,” Gerard greeted, still looking freaked out. “Um…..my name’s Gerard?”

“I know,” you said softly. “I heard the others talking to you.”

“Oh, umm……ok,” Gerard said, trying to figure out how to possibly converse with a ghost as if it were perfectly normal. You were surprised he hadn’t run away screaming. Or run to tell his friends that he’d heard a voice from beyond the grave. Instead, he seemed to be legitimately trying to communicate with you.

It was a surprise – and it was all you ever wanted.

“Where are you?” Gerard asked. “I still can’t see you.”

“I’m standing right beside you,” you confessed.

Gerard whipped around, looking to his right.

“On your left,” you chuckled.

Trembling, Gerard glanced to his left side. He seemed to look right through you. You didn’t doubt that he saw only the dusty curtains behind you.

“It’s alright,” you shrugged. “Nobody’s ever been able to see me before.”

“Has anybody been able to hear you, like this, either?” Gerard asked.

“No,” you answered. “You’re the first one.”

Gerard sat down on the floor of the stage, as if he were still trying to process this. “Lucky me,” he murmured, running a hand through his jet hair.

He stuck a finger into his ear, like he was trying to clean it. “……..Maybe I’ve gone nuts,” Gerard said to himself. “Or maybe just done too many damn drugs.”

“You’re not nuts, Gerard,” you insisted. “I’m real.”

“And the story Jim told me? Is it true?” Gerard demanded.

“It is,” you frowned. “Every bit of it.”

“But, you probably don’t want to talk about that,” Gerard said immediately. It amazed you how he just understood.

“You’re right,” you agreed. “Let’s talk about music. I thought your band sounded really good.”

“Thank you,” Gerard said sincerely. “I wasn’t sure if you would like our genre, since you died a bunch of years before it was invented.”

“What do you call this type of music?” you wondered.

“Um…..I guess you would call the music we make post-hardcore?” Gerard surmised. “Though that label probably doesn’t mean a heck of a lot to you, since you died before regular hardcore really became a thing, either, huh?”

“I’m not familiar with the term,” you admitted. “But, I like the way it sounds.”

“I’m glad,” Gerard smiled. He had such a cute smile. You wanted to talk to him more……

But, suddenly, the frizzy-haired man from before walked out onto the stage. “Gerard, who are you talking to?” he asked.

“You can’t hear her, Ray?” Gerard asked, standing back up.

“Hear who?” Ray said with a confused look. “Are you ok, man? I heard you out here, talking to yourself, when there’s clearly nobody here. Are you……on something?”

“I’m not high,” Gerard snapped. “I was……”

He looked to his left again, as if he were wishing you would suddenly appear, so he could prove that what he’d heard wasn’t simply in his head.

“……Nothing,” Gerard said finally. “I’ll be backstage in a minute, ok?”

“Alright,” Ray shrugged, and walked back off the stage.

“Why do you think you’re able to hear me, when Ray, and the others, can’t?” you asked Gerard, perplexed by why he was different.

“Maybe it’s because I’m closer to the Other Side than they are,” Gerard confessed sadly.

“What?” you gaped.

“That is…..” Gerard took a breath, as if he were unsure whether or not to admit this. “I’ve been thinking about dying a lot lately.”

“Like……hurting yourself?” you guessed.

“Yeah,” Gerard confided. “I just…..I got all these kids depending on me, telling me I’m their inspiration. It’s a lot of pressure. And they all want me to be this crazy, debauched rock star. And so I try to be who they want me to be, and, well….getting into character for these songs means focusing on everything negative and bitter in my life. I already struggle with depression, so that’s not helping it. Not that you probably know what depression even is, Y/N. I don’t think they had a word for it when you were alive.”

“I know how it feels to want to make your life end,” you said sadly. “I know, because I did. I want you to know, Gerard, something I’ve never been able to tell anyone……I regret it. A lot. I wish I’d lived. I wish I had done more with my life, instead of throwing it away. I don’t know if you even care to listen to some dead stranger’s opinion, but…..I don’t think you should do it.”

“I think your opinion does count,” Gerard said, like he was beginning to think hard about this. “Because, you’re the only one who can actually tell me if it’s worth it. If I’ll get to see the people I love, like my grandma, when I die. If I’ll still be suffering, on the Other Side.”

“I haven’t really been to the Other Side, myself,” you admitted. “I just stayed here. There’s no guarantee you’ll be able to cross over, ether.”

“If I got stuck here like you,” Gerard considered with a bitter smile, “maybe we could be together. Maybe I could finally see your face.”

“No,” you shook your head, although you knew he couldn’t see it. “As nice as it would be to have a companion, you don’t belong on my plane, Gerard. You belong with the living. You’re just beginning to do the things you’re meant to do in this world. I can tell.”

“You really think that?” Gerard asked vulnerably.

“I really do,” you said. Your eyes would have been wet with tears, if you were still capable of such physical sensations.

“Ok,” Gerard decided. “If a dead girl’s telling me death ain’t a good look on me, I’ll listen.”

He got up, and strode off the stage, leaving you to your eternal quiet.

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

You watched him as he talked with his bandmates. He didn’t say a word to them of what he’d experienced with you. It was like your little secret.

Soon, the room was filled with teenagers in rebellious clothing, with Xs on their hands. They cheered as Gerard and his friends took the stage.

“We are My Chemical Romance!” Gerard shouted, pumping his fist in the air. “And this song goes out to Y/N! Your memory will carry on, sugar, I promise you that!”

The crowd and his bandmates alike stared back at him, as if wondering who the hell he was talking about. But, you were touched.

Ignoring the confusion he’d caused, Gerard began to sing again.

This night, walk the dead…….

#gerard way x reader #gerard way imagine #revenge gerard #ghost reader

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thefutureisu · 4 years

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xxiii - “P”

it’s been days, but i am still quite pissed with this one guy whom I’ve talked to for almost a month.

so we matched on bumble during his bday (which i just learned later on that day) anw i was talking to a lot of ppl then, and i didn’t give him much attention……? but turned out he was an art guy /and I’m a sucker for art ppl duh/ so ayun i was asking stuff

then turns out it was his bday??? and i got intrigued bc if it was other ppl, first thing that they’ll say is HEY it’s my bday greet me, or whatever

anw i said lets switch to tg since i wasn’t that much keen on opening bumble na much bc i feel guilty of the ppl i stopped replying to (hey I’m trying 2 be better)

THEN to my surprise, he invited to call. i was dreading it at first. i dont want another “S" mishap. but then i agreed bc i felt lazy in typing na ren, but i told him first if he was sure bc I’m fucking awkward w calls, i can’t get my charming self out w calls lmao

anw, ff to three week, we were calling almost every night. like even when he was at parties, or w his friends he called pa ren. BUT it was nothing, just yknow normal talking?? wait HOLD UP, i feel kinda oa bc when we were talking, he was always keen to call. like ill try to say i might not b able to then he’ll say aww or aw ok or basta after i say no, ill feel bad. i seldom left him on read at times BUT he was often double texting me, which was nice. he actually reminded me of S at times, he was an open book too. he shared a LOT haha, even sent me lots of photos.

SPEAKING OF S, they know each other!!!!!! they were classmates b4 wtf. smol world tlaga, dude. he asked kasi how i knew S, then i told him a bit of what happened. anw, w this guy. he seemed ok? nice. we had a lot of common in music and films and fash0wn and he was basta okay lng.

plus he was convenient to talk to. madalas nga i was the one sleeping on him lmao. like he really helped me sleep sum nights. he was ok w him talking the whole time, which was half great..? i was often tired w work thts why i didn’t share much (plus he was a stranger) wait HAHA his name is really long so he has this card-related nname that also begins w an ’s', but ill just call him P (his other name).

there was one time pa nga when our call reached 10 hours. tangina, idk how i stayed up that long. from 8ish until almost 7 am. that was both our longest HAHA WTF 10. both xmas celebs, we called din. which was weird since it was xmas. but this is what’s bothering me. last time we called, it was ‘k naman. i was kinda drunk kaya i dont really remember…………….thts why I’m slightly bothered baka i said something not nice ???

after that call, he didn’t messg much na. i did, i sent him a meme vid but our talk “down spiraled”, which ended up in me being super irritated cause he said that i was overthinking stuff again, like i did it often (i mean i do) but i dont think he was at the place where he could say it na? like we weren’t in that place yet. his choice of words were really offensive i swear. so i told him he was an ahole, then after non he was replying na lang w one words. he didn’t even apologize, sarap manapak.

anywaaaaay, new yr i greeted him. he greeted back. being such a ppl pleaser, i was irked that he had the audacity to be like that when he was the one who did “something” to irritate me.

but i still asked, like after NY. i said sumthin like "hey whats w the sudden change etc etc did sumthing happen" ganon TAS HAHAHAHA DO U KNOW WHAT HE SAID? he said no nothing happened, he just can’t reply much because he’s been talking to someone else na lmao

i mean ok???? but the way he said it, it was in a v apologetic tone!! it had the same energy w “um I’m not tlking to u anymore bc i have a new one now” i was so offended, it was like i was bitch slapped!!!

eh kasi naman hahahaha we were just friends-ish. but parang iba to him, i mean he could’ve laughed and said hey cha i have a kalandian now but yea whats up w you na, ganon. idk iba kasi tlaga pagkakasabe nya sksjddjdkdkdk like he turned me down ganon.

i was trying 2 b “friends” legitimate haha i have other friends whom i made na at bumble, & i thought ganon den so i replied "what??? haha i thought i offended u kasi kaya i asked, anw gl (good luck)" tas he seened me ????? sayang oras ko sa’yo, P. sayang puyat ko sa’yo lmao i should’ve slept. ass.

& the thing thats been bothering me is his SUDDEN change. ugh boys. it’s quite scary hahahah to trust ppl. maybe he got scared na i invited him on art fair lol i remem inviting him sa last call. maybe he thought i was asking him out….,,,,,,,,,eh i invited him bc i have free tix from my comp & all my friends have weekend jobs tas art stud sha so it was convenient bc he’d be able to “get it” i mean the stuff there. lol ewan, basta he changed agad, kay parang i was super surprised. one min, he’s like this tapos biglang BAM ok bye

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mmiblog1 · 5 years

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feitanswife · 6 years

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Very good character development things for when you need to fill out scenes but don’t know what to do:

1. What’s something your character ADORES but would never actively share with most people? Nothing incriminating, just a guilty pleasure cartoon or something. Got it? Good, now figure out how every other central character would react to learning that, do some share the interest? Do they judge them?

Example: one of the leads of my novel has a secret love of country music, due to growing up in a family that listened to it, but never mentions it because of her general obsession with being perfect. Another main character is from Tennessee, and of course likes it too, and until this point he and the girl have been at odds for various reasons. One day when they and a newer character are awkwardly eating lunch after basically saving the friend’s life, the fast food place is playing country radio, and the girl begins to hum along with a song without realizing, prompting a very important bonding moment between two characters who really only tolerated each other before.

2. Think about your character’s hygiene and appearance routines, and factors that may play into them like race, mental health, financial situation, ethics, etc. What are the ramifications of it changing? How can it play into inter-personal relationship ships?

Example:

Perfectionist girl from the other example has autism and severe anxiety as well as a bunch of other stuff that the writing makes obvious but in-universe has gone unnoticed or ignored. Due to this there are several places throughout the book where stress or absent-mindedness makes her neglect her hygiene. Early in the book her roommates attempt to force her to shower during exam week, to disastrous results, but in a scene later, after they all know each other better, they allow her space while she gets over a stressful event and things are fine. Not only does it reinforce her characterization to have it happen multiple times, but it can be a mark of other characters understanding her better over time.

3. Call me crazy, but you need to know your character’s relationship to caffeine.

Example: We’re just gonna keep using my girl for an example cause I love her, she’s my baby, so here we go: the lead of my novel cannot exist without coffee. Not due to energy, in fact more than once in the book she forgets it entirely! But she remembers later when she’s nearly incapacitated by a headache and ready to kill a man. It sincerely affects her mood, but not much else. Her energy levels stay exactly the same, if not lower. And it wouldn’t be hard for her to detox, but the entire reason she started drinking coffee was because she likes it and decaf just isn’t the saaame, plus Starbucks doesn’t do decaf and she goes full out during peppermint season. Seriously, she eats sleeps and breathes peppermint.

4. GIVE CHARACTERS WHO DONT GET ALONG COMMON INTERESTS it’s the funniest shit I promise you.

Example: Tennessee boy and one of the lead’s roommates absolutely HATE each other and for legitimate reasons on each side. Both have acted out of line and it shows. But by god they like all the same shit! The school they’re at operates like a college so they keep accidentally choosing the same classes because they just like the same shit. History, Philosophy, Religion. And they’re the top students in their field.

I never run out of shit to start conversations about cause whenever intrest fades I can just have a door bust open like

*slam* (fading southern accent) “PAAAAIISLEY, ROSE CALLED ME A TRACTOR FUCKER AND THREW PENCILS AT ME ALL CLAAASS!!! CAN WE PUT HAIR DYE IN HER SHAMPOO?”

To which Paisley, the lead from all the other examples, replies “Liam NO! IM- WHA-YOU GET TO GO BACK TO YOUR CABIN, I HAVE TO LIVE HERE. YOU THINK HAVING THREE CLASSES WITH HER IS BAD? SHES THE FIRST THING I SEE EHEN I WAKE UP IN THE MORNING! SHE CALLED ME A BOOTLICKING VIRGIN AND A DELUSIONAL BITCH, AND THAT WAS JUST THIS MORNING! ALSO YOU PROBABLY DESERVED IT.”

And then Liam, “...IRREVERENT. I THOUGHT WE WERE ON THE SAME SIDE!”

“IM ON THE SIDE OF WHOEVER IS RIGHT, which to be honest isn’t either of you but I side with her on principle and out of fear. I still love you like a brother, but I fear her more than I love you.”

“... that’s fair, I’d do the same.”

And then the OTHER roommate, resident tough-love mom friend type chimes in “wait, I LENT HER THOSE PENCILS, OH SHE’S GONNA GET IT-Wait in the interest of fairness, Liam what did you do?”

“Got a higher score than her on the test.”

“... yep I’m whooping her ass.”

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