#yes i know it's wonky and something's up with the text | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wasongo · 10 months

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I think I got a lot of new followers recently because twitter keeps going to shit. However, as you probably know I can't and don't post nsfw art here.

You can find my NSFW socials on my pinned post. I think a lot of people are hesitant to join platforms which aren't fully available to the public yet but if you'd like to keep up with my nsfw art I'd like to:

Urge you to visit my website and subscribe to my RSS feed for gallery updates!

Suggest you follow me on either Pillowfort or Cohost (18+).

In the last year I have started using PF and Cohost more than Mastodon, as they've implemented new features and their posting system is more in line with what I enjoy: robust tagging and filtering, ability to post MANY images, and readmores for long posts.

If you've been hesitant to join either of those platforms since you don't know what to expect here's a small-ish review of both purely from my experience as someone who: a) enjoys profile customization b) likes to have an organized art gallery that is filterable by tags.

This review is aimed at artists looking for NSFW spaces to post! UI screenshots might have suggestive terms and images. Proceed with caution.

Edit: Good grief tunglr, if you open this on the web dash the images aren't shown in the neat galleries I put them in to make the post shorter. Head on over to the permalink if you'd like a better looking post!

Let me just say that if you're looking for a review on more technical aspects of these platforms, like security and moderation policies. I'm not your guy. You'll have to look elsewhere for that. I'm focusing on QoL UI and community aspects.

Though both these platforms allow nsfw, please make sure to read their ToS/Community Guidelines for rules on what is and isn't allowed. Though as far as I'm aware they have pretty similar rules.

Pillowfort

Overview::

Pillowfort has more years under its belt being available to users than Cohost does, as such I THINK the artist/fandom userbase atm is larger, which means you might see more activity there. UI as of right now is very comfortable and the site runs pretty smoothly. Loading times are very decent. Posting is easy, though the image uploader is a little wonky (they are working on fixing this). You are able to create and manage communities based on interests or themes, which people can follow or join and all post in the same space. You can personalize your profile by adding images, links, and formatted text to your sidebar, as well as customize your own profile colors. Tag searches in my experience yield results of both art and aesthetic irl porn and gifs. If that's something you miss from ye olden tumblr days it might be worth a look.

Pros:

Posts have privacy options (everyone, logged in, followers, mutuals, only me)

Has a DM system

Posts have Commentable, Rebloggable, NSFW toggle

Can post MANY images on a single post

Readmore feature for long posts

Robust tagging system

Robust filtering system: hide or click-through warning (by installing Tassel userscript only)

Customizable profile colors, Light/Dark mode for whole website

Communities you can follow/join for shared interests

You can filter posts on profile by tag

You can filter posts on profile by "original poster" or "reblog"

Cons:

wonky image uploader, cannot upload multiple images at once

Cannot search for multiple tags at once

Search for terms with periods in them is currently broken (ex. "D.Gray-man" will not yield any search results)

Communities have few moderation features atm

Without Tassel installed the filtering system is pretty garbage atm (you can either show or hide nsfw or filtered tags completely, with no click-through warnings)

No multiple account/side blog feature yet

Some inline image formatting options are broken atm

Default endless scrolling

No progressive web app for mobile atm

For a more in depth explanation of PF's UI and features you can check out this official post.

Here are some images of the UI.

---

Cohost

Overview::

Cohost feels like it has a small artist/fandom userbase at the moment. However, to make up for that it has a pretty slick UI, it works great as a progressive web app on mobile, and it recently implemented an ASK system similar to tumblr's! Everything loads pretty quickly, and you can switch between your "latest posts" feed and your "bookmarked tags" feed. You can access your likes as a bookmark system, but as a whole "notes" and engagement numbers except for comments are not visible anywhere (this is wonderful for my personal mental health). It has a simple post editor and though the image uploader only allows 4 images that will load with lightbox, there's a workaround to upload MANY inline images if you want. The catch is you'll need to use a bit of markdown or html to do that. (more on that below) Though you can't personalize your profile colors, you can add personality to your page by making very cool pinned posts and adding images to your sidebar.

Pros:

Animated avatars! (listen i like having my animated komui icon)

You can make multiple "pages" (blogs) which function independently for comments/asks. switching between pages is effortless

Ask system, with anon toggle (you cannot reply privately atm tho)

2 Factor Authentication

Progressive web app for mobile works like a charm

You can preview your post before you post it

Posts have a NSFW toggle and you can save drafts

Can post MANY images in a single post (bit of a workaround as you'll need to upload your images to a draft first and then add them to a new post with some markdown or html code)

Readmore feature for long posts

Robust tagging AND filtering system (show, click-through, hide completely), plus CW system to give your posts additional click through warnings you deem necessary

You can do incredibly cool things with HTML and inline CSS on your posts

You can filter posts on profile by tag, and you can have pinned tags

Toggles for hiding reblogs, replies, and asks on profiles

Paginated browsing instead of endless scrolling (things load faster)

No engagement numbers visible ANYWHERE

Cons:

Image uploader does not let you upload multiple images at once. Limit to 4 images (can upload more as inline images with code)

Advanced post formatting (ex. bold, italics, bullet list, inline images etc.) has to be done through markdown or html + css which is not the friendliest for those who don't know any code (there's a button for a markdown cheatsheet when you post tho!)

No dark mode, or customizing profile colors atm (however there are workarounds to changing site colors with Stylus extension)

Cannot search for multiple tags at once

Cool things you can do with CSS on your posts might look very bad on mobile

Since you can do some crazy things with CSS on posts, you might come across eye straining visuals and movement on some posts. There are settings to tone this down, and people are pretty good about tagging things, so with some good filtering you should be able to avoid this however.

A little quieter on the artist/fandom front (but we can change that)

Here are some images of the UI.

If you made it to the end of this review thanks for giving it a look! If there's something vital you might want to know that I missed in regards to UI and posting features let me know and I will try to answer. But again, this is not a technical/security issues/bugs review so don't ask me about that.

Lastly, I've been seeing a handful of NSFW artists I follow on twitter hopping on bluesky. I REALLY suggest you do a little research on the owners and platform to see if you think joining is worthwhile, since I have a feeling many artists might not want their alternative to be a site owned by crypto advocates (and also a billionaire). Some basic research will get you there. Just take heed and use your best judgement. On that note Cohost is strictly against crypto (I'm guessing PF might be too but I don't have a link that I can point you to confirming this atm).

I believe community driven and supported platforms are the way to go. If you end up thinking either of these two places are worth your time, do consider getting your friends and favorite artists on board or supporting them! You'll get added perks on both platforms if you become a supporter. PF recently added the ability to have MULTIPLE AVATARS (PFPs I think they're called nowadays) which I think is super cool (i really miss that from LJ days).

Again, thanks for reading and I hope to see some of you there!

#pillowfort #cohost

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ronearoundblindly · 1 year

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Hit By Fate

a Steve Rogers x Reader life lesson

[This is my own entry for my 1-1-1 Challenge, but also is a very belated gift fic for @itickledthesleepingdragon. May we all remember that we are worth care and consideration!💜] WC 2365

Recommended links: Habibi Through The Years--The Old Guard fandom, Joe/Nicky (Ao3) Invaluable--Star Wars fandom, dad!Obi-Wan

Summary: It's just an accident, and you're totally fine. One handsome man, however, does not agree.

It’s not their fault; it’s just bad luck.

You should have texted to confirm this morning, but since Syd told you she’d text you if anything changed, you didn’t want to pry. Your friends make enough fun of you already for never coming out. You didn’t want to give them one more story in their long list of times you bailed. They already think you’re allergic to fun, so tonight you were going to show them.

You’d rushed to the restaurant after work. You even woke up early to do your hair before work so that you’d still look nice. You brought a purse to transfer your wallet and keys and makeup into so as not to carry your much larger work bag around. You even drank less water the entire afternoon so you wouldn’t be rushing to the restroom and slowing down your cross-city commute.

But then you arrived and there was no reservation.

Not under anyone’s name.

The hostess seemed outstandingly indifferent to your situation. You stepped aside for other patrons, sneaking peeks through the wonky glass dividers to catch a glimpse of your friends at a table maybe, and you texted one.

>>Hey.

<<Whaddup? Tiff replies.

>>You guys here yet?

<<Where?

You give the name of the restaurant and feel your guts crash to the polished wood floor.

<<We were there earlier. Yeah. Why?

Your hands start to shake with anxiety and a touch of rage.

>>I thought we were meeting at 7

The dots show up and disappear. The hostess huffs, staring at you while striking through a line on her paper. You’re blocking one of four total doors to enter the building, but apparently, that’s still taking up too much space.

<<Syd and Karol got off at 4 so we just had drinks early

<<TGIF

<<On a pub crawl now

They know you still work tomorrow. They know you likely would barely drink at dinner. You know exactly why no one would bother asking you if you could get out of work early, and you know they would not try any spontaneous fun for your first time out in months. They didn’t ask because they knew you’d say ‘no,’ or even worse, they knew you’d say ‘yes’ but be uncomfortable the entire time.

You try to call Syd, a last-ditch effort to get a lock on just how drunk or how far away they are. You tell yourself that if they are close and seem relatively coherent (and if the bar serves some small plates of something because you are hungry) then you’ll go. You will absolutely go.

Syd doesn’t pick up. You try Karol. No dice.

Fine. You turn to ask the hostess if there is space at the bar to eat, but she looks at you with such annoyance and a raised finger while she handles a couple who clearly out-rank you in some way.

Defeated, you leave instead.

This whole thing has taken so little time that you’d have to wait another ten minutes for the next bus back. You just walk, staring down at your phone, willing one of them to talk to the other, willing one of them to realize they’ve left you behind.

Do they even care that they’ve done it? Are they even your friends anymore?

The sad part is that you don’t go out much, but these are the friends you go out with the most. It just so happens that’s a few times a year, and that is you trying. This is you pushing yourself.

It’s not good enough.

Just as the WALK sign lights up at the street corner, the dots show back up under Syd’s message, and you shove it closer to your face.

You don’t see it coming.

A cab’s bumper smacks your left leg and bats you sideways. The solid hit feels like a tumble on the ice rink. It spins you, your phone flying out of your hands, and you’re scrambling not to fall. Your muscles tense every which way that’s not natural, probably looking klutzy.

You shoot back up too fast and look around, wondering if people are staring at you now, but the few other people crossing simply walk on by.

The cabbie only rolls down his window.

“You okay?”

Not actively concerned. Not getting out of the car. Not even apologizing.

But if you’d kept walking, you’d be across already. If you weren’t just standing there, the cab would be able to turn and so would the several others behind him.

One honks.

“Fine,” you say quietly, waving him on for emphasis and stepping back to find your phone.

All the effort of the day, all the preparation mentally and physically, and you are stranded on the wrong side of the road, exactly where you started, metaphorically and near-actually run over.

You have to crouch down by the curb and pray your phone didn’t slide into the gutter, wincing at a particular angle that shoots pain up your left thigh. Maybe you aren’t fine.

“Miss?” a tentative, low voice calls above a classic pair of Converses on the sidewalk. “Think this is yours.”

A man in glasses and a ball cap hands your phone back, the screen mercifully intact.

It’s such a tiny blessing in this string of unfortunate events.

The breath you take turns into a whimper and ends in a sniffle. Tears sting your eyes as you start to think about what happened—what really happened—in the past minute.

“Thank you,” you choke out, snatching the device. The gesture seems aggressive after the fact. “Sorry. Thank you,” you try again.

“You okay?” How the same two words can sound so different from two people, you’ll never know, but the difference floors you harder than the car’s impact.

With the utmost care, the stranger’s hands lightly touch your shoulders and guide you out of the road.

“I’m fine.” You’re an automated recording, retreating to a quiet and lonelier space in your mind. “I’m fine. Thank you.”

“You got hit by a car,” he says bluntly.

“No, just a—“ you look up into the man’s face, his blond hair, his blue eyes, his strong jaw, his height “—graze.”

“Yeah, you got grazed by four thousand pounds.”

“You’re…” All you can do is point at Captain America’s chest and blink.

He frowns and whispers. “You recognize me?”

Somehow that’s the strange part?

“Shoot. The glasses usually work. Don’t…please don’t make a big deal, but I…I’m sorry I couldn’t pull you out of the way.”

Steve Rogers buries his hands in his jean pockets, folding himself more into the cover of his hoodie and leather jacket.

“You wanted to help me?” you croak.

He ticks his head in confusion, respectfully indicating that you’ve asked the one and only dumb question known to mankind.

“Why?”

You don’t even know what you’re asking about now. Why me? Why today? Why now? Why not? You don’t notice your hands are shaking until he grips them gently.

“I can take you to the hospital,” he offers.

“I’m fine.” The repeat earns you another frown. “I’m not…hurting,” you clarify.

“That’s called shock, sweetheart.”

Steve seems to catch himself and sighs.

“Sorry. What I mean to say is let’s find you some water and somewhere to sit, okay? I’ll check you out then.”

You nod immediately. He’s only half-turned when Steve spins back around.

“Not check you out check you out,” he mumbles, “just like a once over. No, not…” he sighs harder. “I am going to make sure you are alright.” Every word is strategically emphasized.

He leads you to the nearest bench. His head stays down the entire way to a newspaper stand to buy you a bottle of water.

You can tell by the way Steve monitors every move of the bottle to your lips that he fights doing it for you. From his overly attentive posture, you’re surprised he waits a whole minute to ask how you feel yet again.

Still stunned, honestly, but it’s not just your left leg that aches, it’s your whole body. That seems too pathetic to admit aloud, but if you say the ‘fine’-word one more time, he’ll surely carry you to the dang ER. He has that look.

Instead, you admit, “I’m hungry.”

A smile blossoms over his features. “I can help with that.”

The boyish glee with which Steve Rogers walks you (gingerly) to a nearby, hole-in-the-wall pizza parlor is endearing. You’re not a patient for those minutes, and when he orders for you both (there are three lines on the board and that’s the menu) while you claim a teeny tiny booth, you’re not a victim of your day.

When he tells you how he found this place originally, how it’s almost like the pizza he remembers from long ago but better, you’re not alone anymore.

“Were you going to get food when…” Steve trails off.

Maybe it’s the shock wearing too thin to mask the rest. Maybe it’s the hot cheese warming your insides and melting your anger. You spend the next ten minutes blabbing about what happened with your friends and explaining what you were doing when the cab hit you.

“So you weren’t even okay before the car?”

His words throw you for a loop.

“No, I mean, it was just a misunder—“

“You’re doing it again,” he cuts in. “You’re diminishing you in the picture.”

You take a long swig of your soda while staring blankly at him. You watch Steve realize you aren’t even going to impose on him for an explanation. He drops his slice on the plate and holds out his huge hands as props.

“The whole picture of your day, right?” His arms are wide, then he points at things on the table. “You told me about Syd and why it’s ‘fine’ that she changed plans for her own convenience. About Tiffany and Carly—“

“Karol,” you sputter mid-sip.

“Carol, right, sorry. Everyone has a -y in their names now. I just assumed.”

“Karol with a -k,” you add.

Steve…ponders whether that’s some sort of joke before waving his hands to regroup. “You told me how your other friends—using that term loosely—rationalize leaving you to eat or even navigate the city alone—“

“I don’t need a chaperone.”

“Debatable,” he chuckles. “And then you tell me about how the cab driver probably didn’t need the hassle of dealing with some minor injury he inflicted on—and I quote—‘someone.’”

His eyebrow pops up over the rim of his glasses as if that will drive his point home, but you’ve got nothing.

“Where are you in the picture?” he finally blurts. “It’s your time and your effort and your body and your safety, and you just told me everyone else is more important. They all deserve consideration before you in your own life. Including some driver who could have killed you!”

He’s getting visibly agitated the more he talks, and you shrink in the seat, not out of fear but out of guilt for taking an evening of Captain America’s time to yourself. If your friends couldn’t even stand to spend a meal with you, it makes sense that Steve would be annoyed with your company.

“Wait, there,” he points directly at your face, “what was that thought? What did you just think?”

“I—I’m sorry I—“

“What do you have to be sorry for?” Steve asks bluntly.

He must see your eyes glisten with more unshed tears because his whole body visibly softens.

“You showed up at the place you all agreed on—“ he counts on his fingers “—at the time you were told, and walked across a street with right of way.” He does what you are beginning to think of as his signature sigh. “Am I missing something?”

All you can do is chew on your bottom lip.

It takes you what feels like an eternity to notice. “I could have really been hurt,” you mumble finally. “That’s not okay.”

Steve stretches his long arm across the tiny table, opening his palm to await yours.

“I hate to tell you this. You don’t have to be torn open to be ‘really hurt,’ sweetheart.” This time he says the nickname with firm intention. He squeezes your hand. “Now, I’d appreciate it if you’d come to the infirmary with me and get some industrial-grade salve on what’s sure to be a nasty bruise.”

You smile sadly, still pushing away errant thoughts that you’re imposing on the Captain.

“And by the time that’s over…it’ll be time for a late-night dessert before I take you home.”

In the fluorescent light, you can see him blush fiercely.

“As an escort—escort you,” he corrects, “to your door, I mean. For safety.”

He shrugs uncomfortably to adjust his layers of disguise, hanging his head, this time to hide his face from you.

“If you ever wondered why I’d go out to pizza alone,” Steve whispers, “wonder no longer.”

He scoots across his side of the booth to stand.

You think for a long moment.

This is important. This is one of the most important men in the country—nay, the world—begging you to be the protagonist in your own life. He wants you to want that.

You deposit the last grease-crumpled napkin onto the stacked plates and clear your throat. “I like this picture,” you say first, but it’s not enough. It’s not loud enough. It doesn’t hold weight or take up its due space.

You try again.

“I like being in this picture.”

He’s tall and his gleaming white teeth are perfect and his bright blue eyes are framed by long lashes and he’s staring right at you. How could you not shoot your shot?

“I’d—“ you fight the urge to look away “—consider seeing a sequel, too.”

Steve pushes up his fake glasses and nods, still pink in the cheeks. His hesitation reads as shy, not polite, not dutiful.

He juts out an average, hoodie-covered elbow for you to balance on.

“S’pose that means I should know your name, miss, and what your favorite flavor of ice cream is.”

Ro's 1-1-1 Challenge Details

A/N: In case you were wondering, the life lesson I wrote Steve Rogers teaching us is one that I constantly struggle with, too. This is an everyday, uphill battle to recognize our own worth and know that taking care of ourselves is not selfish. I hope this serves as a wee reminder!

Taglist: @supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @yiiiikesmish @bucky-fricking-barnes-reads @fallinallinmendes @deandreamernp

[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

#Ro's 1-1-1 Challenge #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers x you #steve rogers angst #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers fic #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers one shot #marvel fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #mcu fic #captain america fanfiction #captain america x reader #captain america x you #captain america angst #captain america fluff

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7ndipity · 1 year

Text

On your period

Hoseok x Reader

Summary: Hobi tries to comfort and care for you during your time of the month.

Warnings: insecurities, menstruation, mention of bad past relationship

A/N: Thank you for the request! It came at ironic timing for me, so if it's a little wonky, I'm sorry, just know that I was fighting major brain fog for this.

Masterlist

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

When you'd texted Hobi and told him that you weren't feeling well and couldn't go out that evening, you had thought that would be the end of it, plain and simple.

In truth, you had started your period and were feeling pretty shitty, but you didn't want to tell him that, fearing that he would turn squeamish the way your ex always had when the subject came up.

What you hadn't considered was the fact that Hobi was, well, Hobi, which meant that he was immediately calling you trying to find out exactly what was wrong.

"Baby? Are you okay? What are your symptoms? Do you have a fever? What about-"

Although you knew he meant well, his flurry of questions was beginning to make you budding headache even worse.

"Hobi!" You finally interjected, making him fall silent. "I'm fine, I'm just-" You took a breath, "I'm on my period, but it's nothing you have to worry about, so you can just-"

"Wait? That's what's wrong?" He said, relieved. "Why didn't you just say that?"

"I didn't want to make you uncomfortable." You said quietly.

"Why would I be uncomfortable?" He asked, confused.

"I-, I mean, E/n always was." You mumbled, a sudden wave of understanding hitting him at your words.

He knew from what little you had shared with him about your past relationship that it hadn't been the best, to say the least, but the idea that they had made you feel so uncomfortable about something so normal with your own body was heartbreaking for him. He wasn't a particularly aggressive person, but in this moment, given the chance, he would've gladly taken a swing at them for the shit they'd put you through.

"They were an idiot." He said firmly, catching you off guard with his sudden change of tone. "You have nothing to be embarrassed or ashamed of, you hear me?"

You started to nod, before remembering he couldn't see you and muttered a small "yes."

He wasn't satisfied though. "I'm coming over."

"What? Why?"

"To take care of you!" He insisted.

"You don't have to do-"

"I know, but I want to."

Which was why he was now standing on your doorstep with multiple shopping bags and reassuring smile on his face.

"You said you didn't feel like going out, so I thought we could have a night in." He said as he entered the apartment and began to unpack his purchases, which seemed to mainly be your favorite snacks and candy.

"You didn't have to do that." You said again.

"I wanted to." He said, catching your chin gently in his grip so you would meet his eyes. "I mean it, I like looking after you, okay?"

"Okay." You said, letting him pull you into a hug, which you quickly melted into, immediately feeling so much better just from his presence.

"Are you okay? Are you hurting?" He asked as he pulled away, ghosting his hands over you sides, trying to find a way to ease some of your discomfort.

"I'm okay, just tired." You assured him.

"Should we take a nap then?" He asked.

"You didn't come all this way just to take a nap?" You looked at him.

"If that's what you want to do, then yes I did." He grinned down at you before poking you in the ribs teasingly.

You happily spent the evening dozing in and out with him while watching movies, feeling like maybe you'd found your home, with him.

#hoseok x y/n #hoseok x reader #hoseok #hoseok fluff #hobi fluff #jhope drabble #hoseok drabble #bts x y/n #bts x reader #bts drabble #jhope oneshot #jhope fluff #bts requests #7ndipity

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finn-m-corvex · 6 months

Text

Whumptober Day 18: Hunting

Day 18! And using a substitue prompt just because I thought that it would be easier at first and then it most definitely was not easier. This one is kinda wonky, but I didn't really know how to fix it so, meh. Here it is! Also movie-verse because yes even though there's a lot less of it in this batch than there was in the last one.

Taglist: @splinnters @abigailxoxo @tornoleander @mondothebombo @ghostwalloper @toastingpencils37 @lightning-chicken

Words: 2.4k

He didn’t know why he woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning, but he could already tell that it was going to be a bad day.

Jay didn’t realize how much he had been running his hands through his hair until he started to get dressed for school, and he flinched from the whiplash of feeling the softness of his hair to the grossest sweater known to mankind. Suppressing the inner urge to gag, Jay ran his hand along everything hanging in his closet, finally finding a shirt that didn’t make him want to jump into the ocean. Putting it on made him cringe, and he whipped around when he felt eyes staring at him from the open closet door.

But there was nothing there.

It was going to be one of those days.

Anxiety was something that he somehow coped with every day and yet could never quite overcome. He was tense as he ate his breakfast, waiting for his pa to whack him with his newspaper or his mom to take away his cereal or someone else to come breaking through the window or for Garmadon to attack—

“Kiddo?” Pa said, putting down his paper. Jay flinched when a hand landed on his back, and Pa pulled his hand away. “Is something wrong?”

“Bad day,” Jay said softly, shoving his cereal away and laying his head on his crossed arms. Guilt flooded his stomach and made him feel sick, and he wanted his pa’s hand back.

Ma looked up from where she was washing the dishes, a worried frown on her face. “Are you sure that you should go to school today, honey?”

Even if his anxiety made him feel like he was being hunted for sport, the thought of staying home and being alone made him feel even worse. “I’m sure. I’ll be okay, Ma.”

“Is touch okay?” Pa asked, and Jay picked his head up.

“Yeah, Pa. Can I have a hug, please?”

“Of course, kiddo,” and Jay finally relaxed when he felt his father’s strong arms surround him, warm and solid and smelling of the motor oil that never failed to make him feel safe. Pa squeezed, and Jay got out of his chair to give his dad a proper hug. He was almost as tall as Pa, the perfect height to rest his head on his dad’s shoulder, feeling the soft flannel under his cheek. “Is that better?”

“Better,” Jay confirmed, wishing that he could just stay like this for the rest of the day, but his dad did still have to go to work. “I think I missed the bus, though.”

“That’s alright,” Ma reassured, her voice washing over him like honey, “I’ll take you today, since Ed’s gotta get to work early. Are you all ready to go?”

Jay picked up his backpack after breaking off the hug, turning around to face his mom. “I’m ready!”

The drive to school put him more at ease, even though nobody texted him back when he dropped a message in the groupchat saying that he would be late. Normally Zane would be the first one to text back, scarily fast for someone who insisted that everyone put their phones away during class, but even he was silent. Jay chewed on his lip for a while, trying to let his mom’s reassurances help him feel better. Maybe they just got their phones taken away, or they were doing something super important in class. It wouldn’t be the first time.

Gently taking his hands from where they had been worrying at the hem of his shirt, Ma kissed his forehead. “Have a good day at school, dear. Remember to call me or your dad if you need to get picked up early.”

“I will, Ma,” he promised, even though he had no intention of burdening his parents like that. And just like that, watching their car pull away from the school and back down the road, all of the pent-up feelings inside of him burst like a balloon.

There was nothing to protect him out here, and he clutched his orange scarf as he walked down the hall to the secretary’s office. Normally the object would’ve brought him some sense of comfort, but now it only made him more nervous, feeling like someone was going to pop out and take it from him. He didn’t have his friends there to protect him; if he was jumped, then he was fucked.

Shadows seemed to stretch from the floor to the ceiling despite the morning sun, and he flinched every time he heard the squeak of a locker or footsteps in another hall. He kept his head down, feeling the tingle indicating that people were staring as he walked past. Focusing on the floor tiles didn’t help the impending nausea, and Jay focused on the rhythm of his footsteps to keep from vomiting all over the hallway. First period was just letting out, the cacophony of voices and shoes squeaking grating on his ears, and Jay hurried to make it to the office as fast as he could.

“I’m here,” he said as he entered the room, and the secretary looked at him with such a scathing look that Jay flinched back. “I-I know I’m late—”

“Mr. Walker,” she said harshly, and Jay felt the pit in his stomach grow even wider, “what is your excuse this time?”

“I missed the bus—”

She waved him off and handed him the late note, which he quickly took before scurrying away. Some of the other kids were snickering in his direction and he flushed, making a beeline for his locker down the next hall.

To his relief, everyone else was already standing there, chatting away like they didn’t even notice he was gone. Jay’s heart sank and he visibly wilted as he approached, not noticing the footsteps following along behind him change as a person hid in the other hallway: out of sight, out of mind.

Cole greeted him as he walked up, turning away from Kai and pulling his headphones down. The gesture made Jay feel a little better, and he thanked Cole quietly as the older boy went ahead and opened Jay’s locker for him. He leaned into Cole’s side as he rearranged his books, taking the stuff out of his bag and putting it in its proper place. It was calming, and his hands rejoiced at finally having something to do other than picking at the loose threads in his sleeves.

His lack of talking didn’t go unnoticed for very long. “Are you alright?” Cole asked, raising an eyebrow at Jay’s shrug. Jay didn’t really feel like talking, but he didn’t want to leave Cole waiting for an answer either.

“Did you see my text?” he asked, and Cole fished out his phone to check. So he hadn’t. Jay didn’t know how to feel about that. Part of him had been hoping that Cole had read the text, had been mulling Jay’s absence over in the back of his mind and feeling sad that he wasn’t there.

Was Jay a terrible person for thinking that? Probably.

“Jay!” Nya exclaimed, rushing over to wrap him in a big hug. “We missed you! What happened?”

“H-Hey Nya,” he stammered, blushing as he returned her hug. “I just woke up late and missed the bus, that’s all.”

He must’ve not been doing a good job at hiding his anxiety, because Nya pulled back and looked him up and down. “Are you sure you’re okay? I saw your text, and it’s not like you to be late.”

“I’m sure,” he lied, swallowing thickly and pushing his anxiety down as far as he could. She couldn’t know how antsy he was feeling, how deep the pit in his stomach was when he thought about how his absence hadn’t affected them in the slightest. “How was first period?”

And that was that. She walked with him to biology, bidding the others a quick goodbye that Jay quickly replicated before catching up to her. For someone who was a good five inches smaller than him, Nya had a very wide stride. He listened as she talked about her math class, describing the inverse functions and graphing equations they had to learn about, her tone as excited as it could get when it was describing her least favorite subject.

“I think I’m going to struggle with this unit,” she sighed, tucking a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. Jay wanted to do it for her. “Which, you know, I know I struggle with all of them, but I think this one is going to give me a run for my money.”

“Do you want me to help?” Jay asked; he was already in an accelerated math class, so he was pretty sure he could handle whatever she threw at him.

Neither of them turned around to see the figures trailing behind them in the shadows, too caught up in paying attention to each other.

Until Jay felt the eyes on the back of his head again.

Hairs rose along the back of his neck as he whipped around, staring down the hall and taking in every available detail. It felt like someone had electrified his senses, and his eyes zeroed in on a leg disappearing around the corner. Someone was there, following them. And it wasn’t one of the guys.

Now that he was paying attention, this hallway was oddly desered for nine in the morning. Where was everybody?

“...and I’m sure that you would be a great tutor,” Nya was saying, stopping when she noticed that he had stopped walking. Turning to look at him, she raised an eyebrow at the way his face tightened with worry, pivoting on his heel and walking down the hall.

“Keep walking,” he hissed, and she did so, even though Jay always made sure to keep his footsteps a beat behind hers.

Concentrating, Jay ignored the way she shot worried looks back at him, only focused on noticing anything behind them. Just as he thought, there were footsteps, multiple sets of them and hard and heavy against the tile. He should’ve noticed them before. Someone was hunting them.

Eyes widening, Nya finally saw the people behind them, while Jay doggedly kept his eyes looking straight ahead as he pulled out his phone. Quickly dialling Cole’s number, his anxiety started spiking, oscillating back and forth like an out-of-control metronome. The mental school map floated around in his head, and Jay traced around the routes until he found one that should lead them back closer to the crowds. Biology could wait until he was sure that Nya was safe.

Honestly, Nya was not the one that needed protecting here, but that was beside the point.

“Left,” he whispered, already making the turn and slowing so Nya could catch up. They both sped up, Nya having long given up on trying to ask him any questions, and Jay’s heart stopped beating when they walked straight into a dead end.

Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit—

“What do we have here?” said a voice behind them, and both of them whirled around to see Chen the Cheerleader standing in all of his pompish glory. Two lackeys flanked him on either side, devilish grins on thier faces as they snarled; they were wolves hungry for their next meal.

Jay instinctively threw his hand out in front of Nya, even though the limb was trembling. “What do you want, Chen?”

Said boy snorted. “Wouldn’t you like to know, junkyard boy?”

“You better scram before I rearrange your face, Chen,” Nya growled, pushing against Jay’s arm to try and get past him. Jay locked his arm, determined to keep her back, but unfortunately that just left him wide open to an attack from the front.

A baseball bat collided straight with his head, making his vision go dark as he collapsed onto the ground. Nya tried to catch him before he hit the ground, but his sleeve slipped through her grasp and his head was crashing into the tile. Disoriented, he laid there on the ground and tried to get his bearings, but that was hard with a blossoming pain on the side of his head and the trickle of warm blood making its way down his temple.

The bullies were gone; they must’ve gotten spooked after seeing him go down like a sack of bricks. Nya was tilting his head up, and the anxiety that he had been bottling finally spilled over the edge as his eyes failed to focus on her face. Her touch was gentle as she helped him to sit up, looking over him and trying to find the spot where the bat had gotten him.

“I lied,” he gasped, clutching at her arm, “I lied, I’m not okay, I’m not okay and I’m sad and I can’t breathe and you guys didn’t miss me and I want to go home—”

“Jay,” she said quietly, closing his mouth with a soft click with a finger under his chin. Tears started to go down his cheeks as his chest constricted with emotion, and he hated the way his lip started wobbling, “you’re okay. It’s okay. I’m gonna call your parents to come and get you, but until they get here we’re just gonna stay right here on the floor.”

“B-But what about your class?”

“You’re more important than class,” she said, “besides, you already know that I would take hanging out with you over going to biology any day.”

“I’m sorry for lying,” and Jay was surprised to see Nya smiling at him, because normally she didn’t tolerate liars under any circumstances. Maybe he was a special one.

“Honey, I could already tell,” Nya said, and Jay felt his heart sink, “I just didn’t say anything because I figured if you wanted me to know, you would’ve told me. I know enough about you to tell when you’re upset.”

“So you’re not upset?”

Nya sighed, and Jay missed the warmth of her hand when she pulled it away. “I’m not upset. I wish you would’ve told me, but I’m not upset. Now, did you say you would be willing to tutor me in math, or do I need to ask Zane?”

He chuckled. “I can do that, I think, as long as you don’t mind stopping for milkshakes afterwards.”

It didn’t even occur to him until much later that he had just asked her on something similar to a date.

#ninjago #ninjago jay #finn's writing #ninjago nya #whumptober day 18 #whumptober 2023

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kohakun · 1 year

Text

prompt » 29; "i know it's not the best but-" "i love it."

pairing » mika kagehira x gn!reader

requested? » yes

genre » fluff, tiny bit of angst because mika is nervous

a/n » repost because it wasn't in the tags. if it still isn't then im deleting tumblr /j

in celebration of you finishing your exams, mika wanted to make something for you. he knew how stressed you had been over them and it had pained him greatly to see you in such a state. since you had worked so incredibly hard, he thought that a reward was well-deserved now that they were over.

and so he decided that baking you a celebratory cake was the perfect idea! the only issue was that mika wasn't exactly.. skilled in anything that involved cooking. fortunately, arashi had offered him her help — so did ritsu, but knowing how the ravenette's sweets appeared to the eye, mika wasn't sure he wanted ritsu to help.

he was anxious at the start, but thanks to arashi's instructions, the process had gone quite smoothly. he insisted on piping the icing on the cake and writing the text on the cake himself and he was pretty proud of it. sure, it wasn't smoothed out perfectly and the letters were a little wonky, but he had done this with all his love and it was enough for him.

but still, right as he was waiting for you to come home from going out with a few of your friends, he was nervous about what you would think about what he had made. what if you didn't like it? what if you didn't like the taste? what if you thought it didn't look good? insecurities continued to plague his mind and before he knew it, he heard the front door opening.

he jumped slightly in his seat, immediately standing up once you peeked your head into the dining room, a content smile washing over your face as you saw him. you made your way over to where he stood, wrapping your arms around him and about to ask him how his day went before your gaze landed on the cake that sat atop the table next to you.

surprise was evident on your features as you took in the simple but beautiful cake; the whole thing was covered in white icing with icing of your favourite colour piped around the borders and the words 'congratulations, my love' right in the centre. you looked back at your boyfriend, disbelievingly asking, "did you make this?"

mika's expression was clearly one of unease, thinking that your reaction was a negative one and your eyebrows furrowed upon seeing him so anxious. "i-i did make it, with the help of naru-chan, of course! i did the decorating all by myself though and i know it's not the best but-"

"i love it." you cut off his rambling with your sincere thoughts, nothing but pure love and affection present in your eyes at that moment, nothing but adoration for the boy that stood in front of you. you loved it, you loved him. he was clearly in shock before a relieved sigh left him and his nervousness dissipated, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his face into the crook of your neck.

"i was so scared you wouldn't like it.." he whined, his voice muffled as you let out a short laugh at how cute he was. "how could i not like something that you made for me?" you said, placing a kiss to the crown of his head as you rubbed his back soothingly. you pulled away slightly from his embrace which left you with a pouting mika until you said,

"i still have to try it, c'mon let's taste it together"

#yun writes #yun's 100 follower event #ensemble stars #enstars #ensemble stars x reader #enstars x reader #mika kagehira #mika kagehira x reader #mika x reader

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morrak · 1 year

Text

Untitled Wednesday Library Series, Part 112

So that's what the first half of a master's degree feels like, huh? Hmm.

What with the schedule and the health and a whole bounty of etceteras, I fear I've developed a minor case of the yips. Is this a readership that is knowing the yips? Whether or not I can still write these posts well feels like a question mark, but I'll make you a deal: I'll try and you'll be polite. Thank you for your cooperation.

I have, despite it all, still been reading. A few weeks ago I strolled through The Jewelry Engravers Manual [sic], which lists as co-authors R. Allen Hardy and John J. Bowman. The exact split of their contributions is a little fuzzy — Bowman doesn't show up on the earliest editions but doesn't seem to have been an editor, exactly — and I frankly don't have time to dig much further.

Thus quoth the frontmatter: ‘The Dover edition, first published in 1994, is an unabridged and unaltered republication of the revised edition of the work as published by Van Nostrand Reinhold Company, New York, in 1976 (original edition, 1954).’ Van Nostrand Reinhold, mostly a marketer of professional material like this, was bought out by Wiley in ‘97 and Dover has nothing to do with them, but given the title’s age it’s no surprise the publication vector is wonky.

The How

It’s a trade paperback printed two years ago, so: bought it new. Move along.

The Text

While the title is accurate, it’s not precise: this is really about designing and cutting script using hand-pushed tools. Small script, yes, and mostly on soft metals, which, sure, 'jewelry engraving', I guess. There’s a chapter on monograms and circa two and a half about tooling, but only as support for the script stuff. Given the vintage and audience — mid-20th century American commercial jewelers weren’t exactly cutting signets; all the business was in personalizing rings and plaques for, like, Rotary clubs and the Lions — it’s hard to imagine anything else seeming very urgent.

This tries its best to be a curriculum. At that think it’s probably successful: the logic of the chapter order is crystal clear, the goal and intended skill level of each section is transparent, and the scope is tight. The prose is tight and descriptive without feeling very technical at all, which is pretty marvelous. Genuinely very pleasant material to read.

The pleasantness is a trick. The trade being written about is stupendously difficult; getting halfway decent by the standards of this booklet would be the work of something like a thousand hours of regular effort. The fundamentals are simple, but the alphabets and flourishes and design thinking asked of the reader are eye-wateringly hard to get right even in the view of a casual observer. Talking about it like it's possible to learn this is an achievement, I think; even I was almost fooled.

Incidentally there’s a little Q&A-shaped section at the back, which serves to collect all the little tidbits they couldn’t include in the chapters proper. You might recognize this technique from that book on watchmaker’s gravers a while back.

The Object

Again, this is a recent trade paperback. How good could it be? Quite, actually.

With maybe two exceptions, the drawings serve their purposes perfectly. Reference alphabets are communicated beautifully. Formatting is clean, if a bit of its vintage (though I am an admitted sucker for ye olde start-of-chapter topic lists). Good typesetting; passable paper. An adequate little thing, doomed though it is to fall apart eventually.

The Why, Though?

I am not a jewelry engraver. I never will be, thank goodness, and with any luck the couple of them I know will keep on keeping their distance. That said, I appreciate the trade's toolmaking ecosystem. It's changed a lot since this was first written — vanishingly few people cut with simple tool steels anymore; script styling has evolved a lot — but some core considerations have held out and I'll take every crumb of advice I can get. It’s healthy for my drafting, and nothing’s more satisfying than having just the right technique in your back pocket for shop-made tools.

More importantly, the authors agree with me completely on the subjects of oilstone selection and shop pencils. This is tremendously validating, even from dead guys who I would have hated to have a real conversation with.

#images #untitled wednesday library series

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monstersinthecosmos · 1 year

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Do you have any advice/tips for writers with ADHD? I have ADHD and dyslexia on top of it and I've recently started writing fanfic. I love it but it takes so long for me to actually order my thoughts into something readable and find the right words to put down. I get distracted easily. I usually need to get in the mood of the fic I'm writing to have a decent flow but it's rare that I can do it. I just feel distressed cause I have so many ideas but I'm so slow at writing it takes me months to write a 5k oneshot.

Hello!!!!!!!! Yes I have some advice, I would love to share what helps me! I do want to acknowledge that what works for me might not work for you, but something that I find like mega super-duper important as an ADHD life hack is to be honest with yourself and start learning what works for you and how to find tools that work with your specific life. Like, for example, I heavily rely on routine to function AT ALL, but I know that I have to come up with a NEW routine every few months because when they become too familiar they get boring and stop working. And it took me a long time to learn it was okay to just like, leave an ineffective routine in the past and come up with a new one instead of beating myself up because it wasn’t working anymore.

(Please keep in mind that I’m in the US and I don’t have insurance so I’m like learning all this shit cold brew, white knuckling it on my own where like maybe this is extremely pedestrian advice that a mental health professional could’ve just told me years ago and saved me the time LOL)

And re: Dyslexia! I am not dyslexic so I’m not qualified to give you advice about this; if anyone wants to pop in and share please do! The one thing I know that can help is picking fonts that work for you!!!!!!!!!! Using a screen reader can also help when you’re reading to proof read so that you can hear typos or wonky sentences that your eyes miss. (I do this for all my fics and it’s so helpful!) Also if you’re in a frenzy to jot ideas down in your notes to start organizing yourself it might help to use voice to text!

This is gonna be long, I apologize LMAO. Easy for me to scream and shout because I have ADHD but perhaps not easy to read if the reader has ADHD SORRY SORRY, take it a piece at a time if you must. But I’m gonna break this into two main parts, the ADHD Life Advice Stuff and the ACTUAL WRITING STUFF.

ADHD Life Advice Stuff:

I mentioned a couple things in my last post about how I approach writers block & burnout and I think tbh I approach this from an ADHD perspective, as well, particularly the burnout part. I don’t wanna repeat too much of that but basically for me, I think it’s just extremely essential to be honest with yourself, know your limits, and build your life AROUND the ADHD. You really can take any ADHD life advice and apply it to writing. I’ve done it a lot with house cleaning advice!

I’m a slow writer, too! And it’s taken a ton of practice to get to a place where I write longer fics. But like, five years ago I don’t think it would’ve been realistic for me to sit down and crank out a huge fic, I just didn’t have the skill and practice and confidence and patience yet.

This is not a race, it’s not a contest. Patience can be frustrating but getting to where you want to be might be a slow process and take practice, and if you sit down to write and think you’re gonna crank out 50k fic on your first try it’s probably not realistic, and if you push yourself and fuck it up, it’s only going to wind up being discouraging and unmotivating in the end. Imo it’s better to be gentle with yourself until you feel confident and have the hang of it; set smaller goals and be realistic about where you’re at NOW. It doesn’t mean that you will ALWAYS be at that level, it just means you have to walk before you can run.

I would say this also goes towards having a million ideas; THIS IS ME, I HAVE IDEAS ALL DAY ALL THE TIME, but I realistically know that I do not have the time to write all of them. Sometimes I write them down in my notes app so I don’t forget, but it doesn’t mean I’ll commit to writing a whole fic. Again, you have to be realistic about the time you have and the level you can write at. Prioritize ideas that really inspire you and make you excited.

In my last post too I mentioned that a lot of times my “writing advice” is more like, COPING WITH ADHD advice and tbh I think they’re inextricable. My life was a COMPLETE disaster before I found out I had ADHD because I was constantly forcing myself to try to live like other people, to some “normal” standard, and it’s just not how my brain works. It’s important to set up your life FOR your ADHD and just make things easier for yourself. And a lot of that is very personal and individual, so when I say be realistic and be kind to yourself, YOU know you more than I do. You will know if turning your wordcount goal into a game is more motivating than not stressing about your wordcount. You know if writing in a noisy Starbucks is more motivating than writing in your cozy silent home. I think sometimes you have to just try stuff on and see if it fits and create a routine that helps you, and sometimes the routine is gonna wear off and you come up with a new one. And it’s frustrating as fuck when you haven’t figured out what works yet. It’s a fucking process!!!!!!!!!!!! But there’s something to be said for being kind to yourself and saying “It’s okay, this doesn’t work for my brain, we can try something new tomorrow” instead of “This sucks and I’ll never be good at it and I can’t do the thing everyone else can do.”

So I’ll share some like actual technical tools now but I always feel like it’s important to talk about the ADHDness of it FIRST, like. This is you, it’s how you are. Find ways to make it work for you and don’t force yourself to use random normies’ routines if they aren’t built for people like us. Personally when I started being kinder to myself and making accommodations and cherrypicking random bits & pieces of advice that I thought I could manage, I became a lot more productive and had a lot more fun writing!!!!!!! This is like putting the oxygen mask on yourself before your child.

Actual Writing Stuff:

OUTLINES.

I feel like ADHDers don’t want to hear this LMAO. And it took me a suuuuuuuuuuuuper long time to figure out a method of outlining that worked for me. I was against it at first because it made me feel way too constricted and I thought I wouldn’t be able to be creative if I was sticking to one.

People talk about planners and pantsers with writing and I started thinking of my outlines as a TOMATO CAGE. (I found out this is also called tentpole method LMAO but I’m still calling it my tomato cage.) But picture that you have enough of a framework to have some structure and keep the story moving forward, but the plant will grow however it wants to and you can arrange the limbs accordingly.

I talked about how I outline a while back in this entry too so I don’t want to repeat too much, but basically I try to think about like what’s the structure and pacing of the story and build from there. For example, my longest fic on AO3 is called Tonight the Stars Revolt! and I started it by listing out 14 kinks/sex acts and arranging them in order of escalation. So that was my outline.

Chapter 1 – Jerking off in front of each other

Chatper 2 – Jerking EACH OTHER off

Chapter 3 – Oral

Etc!

That’s how the story started, that’s all I knew, but it gave me a roadmap to work with. So you can start an outline as vague and broad as you need to, and as you approach each chapter you can start adding more detail. You can also leave yourself notes as you have ideas, like as an idea strikes you, go ahead and park it in the outline where you think it might fit. This is so helpful if you're trying to build motifs or foreshadowing so that you can be sure to plant all those seeds earlier in the story.

And again, like I said with being flexible about routines and accommodations, it’s okay to rearrange your outline! It’s not the end all be all, it’s your story! I’m constantly tinkering with the outlines as the story evolves.

But for example, say you know chapter 3 is about oral, when it’s time to write chapter 3 you can then start thinking about what scenes you might want to include, like

Chapter opens with them fooling around in a closet

They get called away to do a mission

Mission is very scary! Action! Danger!

Blowjob when they get back!

And then you add to it EVEN MORE as you approach each scene. Like, when it’s time to write the actual scene about the mission you can break it down even more

Open with the team strategizing how to escape

They get separated

There’s a fire

I also like to choreograph all my smut scenes LOL so like when it’s time to write the blowjob it’ll be like

He grabs at Shiro’s waistband

Gets on his knees

Shiro is telling him he doesn’t have to

He does it ANYWAY

Shiro tries to pull out to not come in his mouth!!

So that way when it’s time to actually WRITE! I just have to look at the next point. Like, instead of climbing the mountain that is a WHOLE FIC every time I try to sit down, I can check the outline and go “Today I just have to write about the fire.”

It breaks the story into manageable pieces!! And if your attention span is such that you can’t focus for a LONG time at once, that’s perfect! And if you’re someone who can like get into the zone and need to be really tuned in to get there, it works for that too! You’re just leaving yourself a trail of breadcrumbs to follow so that you always remember what’s the next part you need to write.

I also prefer to write full screen so that I’m not distracted (I use Scrivener which has a full screen and you can customize the colors so I have full screen & dark mode!) and I keep all my notes in the bottom of the document, so I always to make it that I can SEE the next point at the bottom of the screen so I’m always sort of typing towards it. (Scriv also has typewriter mode which is awesome for this, where the line you’re typing on is always centered!)

SPRINTS.

This goes both towards the “small manageable pieces” concept but also towards the “set a time of day to write” concept. But if you have any friends who also write and would want to write WITH YOU to stay accountable, it’s fun to text them and you can both start the clock and write without distraction and then compare at the end. (I’m gonna come back to this in a sec re: wordcount games.) But having someone to spend that time with you really helps.

There’s a Discord bot called Sprinto that you can use to have it in your chat but you can run it on your own too if you want to have a log. I use this a lot! I also sometimes have “sprint time” with my friend who ISNT writing, like she’ll do her dishes while I work on my fic. LOL. It’s just about having someone to be accountable with.

PRODUCTIVITY APPS.

Speaking of sprints, for me personally I try to be like DISTRACTION FREE while the clock is on, and on days where my attention span is particularly garbage I have some apps that lock me out of distracting websites/apps. On my phone I have Forest App, I THINK IT’S A DOLLAR? But very cool and cute. It plants a lil tree and if you leave the app the tree dies and you feel bad. So I’ll put that on when I’m writing so that I don’t pick up my phone and start fucking around.

I also use StayFocusd on my laptop for Chrome. This puts a daily timer on how much you allow yourself to use certain websites and then locks you out. I tend to write at the end of the day so I’ve usually used all my fuck around time by then.

WORDCOUNT GAMES.

Personally for me, I don’t like to agonize over my wordcounts because I worry I fall into “quantity over quality” mindset. I just have my lil challenge to write 100 words a day, but other than that I don’t worry about it. But if that’s motivating to you, you can make it a race or a challenge. Even doing sprints you can see if you can write more than your friend. I think Scriv lets you set a word goal for a session so you can watch the words count DOWN as you’re typing.

I just know for me I have to turn everything into a fucking game to make it interesting LOL so I would encourage creating wordcount games if that will work for you.

TIME OF DAY.

I tend to write at night because I have too much to do in the morning before work, but I like to write in the morning on weekends when I have the day off. Figure out which time of day works best for you!!!!!!!!

Writing in the morning can be awesome because your mind isn’t smushed down by the decisions fatigue of a whole day. Writing at night can be awesome because it’s dark and quiet and time to be cozy. Maybe you’re most alert after lunch, idk man! Figure that out and work with it.

ATMOSPHERE.

When I write at night I like to fucking, put the appropriate music on, turn all the lights off, get my purple fairy lights going, light incense, have a snack, etc. This is gonna be different for everyone. I also live alone so I have the luxury of controlling the environment the best I can. But create a space for yourself if you can, something that works for you. If you get distracted easily try noise cancelling headphones, if you get overstimulated by something try to remove yourself from it. Wear comfy clothes if you need to, etc. Make it easy on yourself so that you can show up and be present with your writing.

I also wanna mention if you can’t write with music on, try ambient sounds. I know there’s a bunch on YouTube and some other writing sites but you can like, listen to ambient café noise, or traffic, or the woods! It can be really immersive!!!!!!!!!

TRY DIFFERENT LOCATIONS.

It can be helpful to write in a different location, if you’re able to. (This is not easy if you’re writing on a desktop but!!! If you’re able to move around sometimes it helps.) If you’re stuck in one space try to change the lighting, or hang up a new picture, get a plant, whatever you wanna do to make your desk feel different.

I do most of my writing at my desk, but I also have my WRITING CHAIR that I sit in sometimes, and when I’m really stuck sometimes I write on the couch, or on my bed! This is the same as if you go write in public. When I used to work on ships I’d go out in port and write in the woods, or in libraries, or in cafes. Inside the ship I’d try writing in my room, in my office, in the crew bar.

I think people call this “change your environment writing” like I’ve seen articles about it and everything. But it’s the theory that being in a different space sort of unlocks different parts of your brain, stimulates you differently, etc.

OF COURSE, if you are too distracted where you NEED to be in the same old boring space, don’t do this!!!!!!!!!! But it’s worth a shot. This is my main trick when I’m STUCK on fics and it usually works. :D

and finally THINKING ABOUT WRITING IS WRITING.

I set aside an hour a day to write, and sometimes it's 53 minutes of zoning out to music and tinkering with the outline, and 7 minutes of writing LOL. It's not a failure or a waste of your time if you sit down to write and the process isn't JUST writing and isn't JUST words coming out of your head. I think there's a lot more to writing than the words coming out of your head. Spending time with the ideas internally and letting them grow is so important and like, I think if it makes you more in love with your story or more confident about the story you're trying to tell, the words will follow!!!!!! Make a playlist or a mood board or some shit, too. Invest in that time because it'll help you stay inspired. (At least, it does for me. :D ) I know there's a balance here on like, at some point you DO have to actually write the words, but I don't think it's bad to invest in your inspiration as part of the process.

Anyway I know this was a lot, but it was really tough for me to figure out what worked for me so I just wanted to share as much as I could think of at the moment. I’d rather overshare if it can help you!!!!!!!!!

As always, take or leave it as needed, modify it to your own needs, do your best!!!!!!!!!!!

Writing fanfic above all else is supposed to be FUN and if it takes you months to write 5k that is FINE. What’s the rush, what’s the race! Be patient with yourself and go at your own pace!

#adhd writing advice #writing advice

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princessphilly · 2 years

Text

Call Me Jake Part 3

CW: flirting, steam, we are heading to the smut

Posted on mobile, I apologize for wonky formatting

WC: 2426

Tagging: @withahappyrefrain @wildbornsiren @dempy @wombtotombx @writercole @mandylove1000 @a-reader-and-a-writer @hoe-on-the-range @hockeynshit @chara-hugs @starshine-hockey-girl @newlibrary @callsignhurricane @callsign-phoenix @callsign-valley @siempre-bucky @callsignhoney @sebsxphia @seasonsbloom @sunderlust @kryptonitejelly @gretagerwigsmuse @grey--scale--girl @andrei-svech @mikkorantanev @mayhem24-7forever @matbaerzal @marvelousmermaid @jostystyles @therebeccaw @marvelandotherfandomimagines @blue-aconite @atthediscowithoutpanic @ratcatcher2world @lorecraft @iguana-braces

“What are you wearing to your hot date? It better be cute,” Lauren asked.

Dorothy rolled her eyes as her best friend laid on her bed before stepping inside of her closet. “I’m wearing clothes. I mean, I don’t want a public indecency charge.”

“No shit, Sherlock. But you should wear something cute. I saw him at the munch, Hangman was hotter than he normally looks at The Hard Deck. Maybe you can introduce me to one of his pilot friends. I’m done with Marines.”

“You’d tear them up. But if any of them are looking for a Domme, I’ll hook you up, even if nothing happens,” Dorothy replied.

Stepping out, Dorothy twirled in her outfit. It was a simple pink polo tee and a skater skirt. It also showed off the fact that her right calf was a prosthetic. “Simple depending on where we go and fitting for the weather.”

“Are you sure you want to show off your leg? I mean, the last couple of times you went out on potential dates, you insisted on covering up your legs,” Lauren ventured tentatively. “I don’t want you to think that I don’t think you shouldn’t wear that and show off-“

“Calm down Lauren. Hangman is so fucking hot and fucking gorgeous for a man. So I might as well show him that my body isn’t what others consider perfect. So if he’s a dick, I cut my losses now.”

“That sounds extra, rather fatalistic. But whatevs.”

Dorothy rolled her eyes as she texted Jake. They had exchanged numbers on Wednesday and exchanged fet profiles on Thursday with Jake asking her to look at his. Dorothy hadn’t though; Thursday was spent all day with her mom and Carter since Carter was in town for Navy SEALs parachute jump school. Carter had exactly three days before he had to report and Dorothy spent her Friday with her little brother. Tonight, it was her night with Hangman and Carter was out with his buddies. Or, the night where either Hangman would prove to be the asshole Rooster said he was or prove to be decent despite the asshole exterior. Was it even worth it though? Why even bother?

“Dot, you look like you’re overthinking again,” Lauren scolded. “Kevin is probably up in heaven right now, cheering you on.”

The mention of Kevin’s name made Dot blink. “Are you sure?”

“Hell yeah. Kevin loved you enough to not only give you a letter to read a year after he passed, one to me to make sure you don’t wallow, AND one to Rooster to ensure you tried again,” Lauren soothed.

“I can already tell that Hangman isn’t like Kevin though.” Lauren sniffed as a couple of memories hit her at once.

Getting up from Dorothy’s bed, Lauren hugged her bestie. “That’s not a bad thing. Yes, you got to have one grand love already but that doesn’t mean you don’t take the chance to have another.”

Dorothy snorted. “I think Hangman’s great love is himself.”

“Eh, a man who looks like that probably is but it can’t hurt to try. Look at it this way, if it doesn’t work out, at least you know what you don’t want.”

Lauren grinned as Dorothy sighed. “Why do you have to be so reasonable, Laur?”

“Because I love you and you’re my best friend and I want you to be happy.”

*****

If anyone asked Jake, he would say that Dorothy Kazansky was one of the prettiest women he had ever seen, especially with that long brown hair and hazel eyes. Right now, she looked amazing as she walked to him in that pink shirt and skirt with her long legs… and then he saw her right leg.

Her right leg was a prosthesis below her right knee. Colored in vibrant colors, it looked like it was tattooed before it turned into a metal part that was in her shoe.

It was absolutely beautiful just like Dorothy.

Jake took in the insecure look on Dorothy’s face and vowed to kill anyone who made her feel less than. “You look beautiful, Dot.”

“Thanks Hangman, I think?”

“Why the whole ‘I think?’ I hope it’s not because of your leg because it’s just as beautiful as the rest of you. And while I’m not Chair Force, I am a pilot too so I understand. You did what we all said what we do in service of our country.”

Dorothy gaped at Hangman, no, Jake. She truly thought he would look at her be turned off but other than the Chair Force comment, it was obvious that it didn’t affect him at all. Before she could say something, the waitress came by with drinks and menus. As Dorothy read the menu, she wrestled with her options. But she decided to just put it out there, placing the menu on the table.

“I’m just going to say this now because I know the rep that many Naval aviators have. If you plan on fucking as many women as you possibly can, this is not going to work, Hangman,” Dorothy stated before taking a sip of water. “I can see you’re ready to argue with that look on your face, so let me be clear. I don’t give a shit what you’ve done before, I’m far from a virgin and I have my own skeletons. But if you want us to play together and for it to include sex, we are only seeing each other. If you don’t want it to include sex, then who else you fuck is not my problem.”

“I don’t like to share, sugar, and I will have no issue saving my cock just for you, Dottie,” Jake drawled. “‘Cause I'm sure I can’t play with you without sex on the table.”

There was a clearing of a throat and the waitress looked at them with slightly reddened cheeks. Dorothy bit her lip while Jake winked. After they gave their orders, there was a pause as Dorothy played with her bracelets. Then Jake cleared his throat.

“Darlin’, I am greedy, I don’t play nice and I don’t share at all,” Hangman drawled as he played with his USNA ring. “And with the way I like to play, I will be the only one on your mind.”

“And what kind of way is that?”

Dorothy raised an eyebrow. Hangman talked a good game so far but the cockiest ones were the ones who were the biggest duds.

Hangman looked at Dorothy, assessing her before smirking. “One, I can tell you didn’t check out my fet profile.”

Dorothy blanched. He was right on that account, dammit. Jake continued, “Two, when you’re getting aroused, you quickly lick your lips before sucking your bottom lip into your mouth and releasing it. You like the idea that I don’t share and I don’t play nice. I bet if I really wanted, I could have you over my knees, pussy already soaking wet before I even give you the spanking you’d deserve for not following directions. But we aren’t there yet and we haven’t consented to that.”

Dorothy looked at Hangman, annoyed and yet very aroused at his words. Noticing she was doing the exact thing he mentioned, Dorothy set her lips in a straight line.

“Aw, don’t be upset, sugar. I may be the handsomest man you've ever met but I’m trained to assess every situation quickly and completely before I do anything.”

“I don’t know if this is bullshit or not.”

Sly green eyes looked Dorothy up and down and she felt like she was ready to burst. Then Jake finally said, “God, I hope you decide you want to play with me because it’s been a long time since I got to tame a brat.”

Dorothy’s breath hitched and Jake chuckled, the low tone washing over her like the finest Bourbon whiskey. This was going to be good, too good.

*****

“For someone who didn’t get laid last night, you seem extra chipper,” Dorothy muttered to herself as she walked down the steps. She really did feel like she was floating on clouds after having dinner with Jake.

After starting rather sexually charged, dinner ended up being rather vanilla. The food was good and Jake was amusing as he described the antics of the younger officers under him on base. Dorothy shared some anecdotes from her time in the Air Force before mentioning that she was illustrating a book about planes for kids.

Jake’s green eyes had turned serious when he asked her if it was okay, considering that she had been in a crash that forced her to be medically discharged. Dorothy had felt touched that Jake had asked that as she told him that writing/illustrating children’s books actually made it easier to face the idea of being on a plane again.

Skipping down the stairs, Dorothy made her way to the kitchen. Bouncing to the fridge, she sighed happily. The night had ended with Jake’s tongue in her mouth and a promise to do more next time.

“You’re home earlier than I expected, I thought you’d still be out.”

Dorothy froze as she heard her mother’s voice. Sarah smiled as she sipped from her coffee cup, watching her little girl pull out a carton of orange juice from the fridge. Dorothy was definitely feeling happy and it made Sarah ecstatic. “I thought that maybe you’d be with that naval aviator you met up with last night.”

“Moooooomm!”

Dorothy’s cheeks flamed as she refused to look at her mom. She couldn’t, she refused to even mention her sex life or lack of one to her mother.

“It must have been a good time if you refuse to look at me.” Sarah chuckled as Dorothy rolled her eyes. “Maverick told me who you were seeing. He sounded like he wanted to have a heart attack.”

Dorothy sighed as she rummaged in the cabinets for some cereal. Sarah continued, “Sounds like this guy is basically what Maverick was when he wasn’t jerking Penny around when we were younger. Anyway, I met Hangman when he was first at Top Gun. You were stationed in Germany then. Your dad would invite the new classes at Top Gun for dinner during their time there. It was his way of supporting the younger pilots and everything.”

“What did you think of him?”

Steeling herself to hear something unflattering, Dorothy was surprised as her mom said, “Very intelligent, kind of like your dad in that they both knew they were the best. But he had that Southern charm too. Very cocky but also very clinical; Hangman seemed like he weighed all of his options within a second before he made a comment. Probably the same way in the air. Your dad liked him.”

“Sounds like the opposite of what Dad would’ve liked. He didn’t like cocky pilots except for Uncle Mav.”

“I think your dad liked that he had the smarts to back up his cockiness instead of being reckless. Mav is reckless.”

Dorothy couldn’t argue that. That was utterly true.

Then Sarah smirked, her hazel eyes turning wicked. “I plan on investing in earplugs but gags are a good thing.”

“MOM!”

“I may be a widow but I’m not dead.”

*****

good mornin sugar, hru

Jake put his phone down as he took out his badge. It was yet another workday but today he was flying so he was in his flight suit. His phone dinged and he read its 0700 & I don’t have to be awake but I am. But it’s okay because I dreamed of u last night

dont tease me sugar. u did agree to let me punish u if u tease me, darlin

Jake had taken Dorothy out for dinner and line dancing two nights ago. They had flirted and also worked out more limits and boundaries of what they wanted a potential relationship to be about. There was also a heavy dose of sexual tension and it took all of Jake not to bend Dorothy over the hood of his truck. Instead, they had made out, his tongue fucking her mouth, his hands groping all over her clothed body. Jake had been rock hard as he grinded his hips into Dorothy as they kissed. And the way Dottie had moaned and gasped into his mouth, Jake was sure she wanted him as much as he wanted her. But he was still going to make her wait. It was slow and Omaha and Yale were making fun of Jake for not sealing the deal. But they didn’t have Bradshaw and Maverick breathing down their neck.

“So help me god, Seresin, if you plan on just fucking around with Dot, I will kill you if you break her heart.”

Turning around in his chair at his desk, Hangman drawled, “Nice to see you too, Bradshaw.”

Rooster stared at his fellow aviator. Hangman wasn’t the easiest to read, using his cocky arrogance as a shell to keep most people from seeing him deep inside. But this was Dot, someone who was like the only sister he had. Dot didn’t need more pain and drama, especially from Hangman.

Hangman looked at Rooster, his vivid green eyes uncharacteristically somber. “I may be an asshole, a total prick, but I have no plans to be anything other than what Dottie wants and needs.”

Rooster couldn’t help the bark of laughter that came out after that statement. But it was obvious that Hangman was very serious and Rooster believed him. He actually believed the damn asshole.

His phone dinged again and Jake swore when he saw the message, glad he was in his truck by himself. Dorothy had sent him a picture, shirt on, nothing super visible. But it was obvious that all she had on was that shirt.

oops, i think I did something bad oh no

Jake snorted, knowing what was exactly going to be lurking on his mind all day at work. Before he could respond, Dorothy sent him another text. im sorry I just can’t help myself

Then there was another picture of Dorothy, this time bent over and Jake groaned.

r u sure u want what ur asking for, brat?

His phone rang and Jake picked up. “Seresin.”

“Jake, my evening meeting got cancelled. So, if you want to come over, you can or I can come over.”

“It’s Thursday, Dottie. If you come over, bring a bag with you.”

Jake chuckled low to himself as Dorothy’s breath hitched. There was a pause before she finally replied, “A bag?”

“I told you after we went dancin’, that I was going to need more than one night when I fucked you.”

“I don’t know why I’m so turned on right now but I am, Hangman,” Dorothy muttered into the phone.

“Because you need me to be between those thighs. I gotta go but I’ll be home by 1830. No panties, sugar.”

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10-honglazia-24 · 9 months

Text

Thoughtless: Part II

Ddeonghwa:

You guys reached the airport yet?

You:

We’ll be there in a few minutes, there’s just some traffic but thank God we’re early

Ddeonghwa:

Early enough to sit in all that traffic? 🤔

You:

Don’t be an ass-

Ddeonghwa:

Lol- You’ll get there in time. Let me know when you land okay?

You:

:( you’re gonna let me be bored and all alone in this line?

Ddeonghwa:

I don’t want to- But it’s Monday ???

You:

School-

Ddeonghwa:

Yeeees, exactly. Call me when you land! ✈️ ❤️

You:

Finnne

Ddeonghwa:

🤗🤗🤗

After that, you sigh bringing your phone down to sit in your lap. He seemed a lot happier this morning than compared to how he was yesterday. Maybe things had gotten sorted out? Whatever those things were. You were so deep in your thoughts, worried for your friend, you didn’t realize that the line had started moving shortly after. You had just happened to look out of the window and noticed a familiar face helping gather luggage from a vehicle.

Kang Yeosang.

The boy and his family you were flying to the Maldives with, for your vacation this week. It left an odd feeling in your stomach. You didn’t like this being considered ‘The’ family vacation without Seonghwa and his parents. The whole thing honestly felt so odd, and your mother seemed a little too happy in your opinion.

As the vehicle stopped, you watched your mother climb out and quickly go over to give Yeosang’s mother a hug. For some reason you made a face. You’d never even met these people yet but apparently your parents knew them alot better than you had imagined. You see your mother saying something to Yeosang, then you see his gaze travel over to your car and he’s moving in your direction.

“Ah-“ You feel awkward quickly gathering your things you had in the backseat with you, just in time to turn around and be met with sunlight and his features as he opened the door. “S-sorry, I was on my way.”

The handsome boy chuckled. “It’s fine. Your mother said I should come say hi and see if you needed any help?”

“Uhm- We do have a lot of bags…My mom kind of overpacked, but you were already lifting all you guys’ luggage you don’t have to.”

“Ah- I wasn’t trying to lift anymore luggage anyway.” He admitted giving you a relieved sigh.

Now holding his hand out to you, you look up at him a little surprised, but take his hand as he helps you out of the car. It was this sort of manners that you weren’t used to so in that small action you could tell he was well-groomed. Or at least in the process there of.

You didn’t have much time to say anything else to the boy, now being ushered by your mothers to follow them inside the airport. Yeosang had gone back to join his mothers side leaving you to walk along with your parents. You noticed you didn’t get to see his dad. You would’ve asked your mother, but she was too immersed in her conversation with Yeosang’s mom so you decided not to disturb them. Instead, you looked down to your phone and decided to check your texts with Seonghwa again. Of course he wasn’t going to say anything right now, he was in school. Plus it had only been a few minutes since they had last messaged. Everything felt so wonky not having him go along with this trip.

But you wouldn’t have a choice and you’d have to deal with being away from your friend an entire week.

After your affairs were sorted and you were all making your way through your gate to board your plane, you noticed a man, that you could only assume, was Yeosang’s father had finally joined the group. You finally let your curiosity get the best of you as you moved along the line with your parents.

“Is that Yeosang’s father?” You asked curiously eyeing the man. He held a very serious, stern expression. He seemed like an angry guy, but you were pretty sure he couldn’t help it.

Your father was the one that spoke. “Yes it is. He’s a very important, very busy man so don’t bother him while we’re on this flight.”

“Well geez, I’m not a kid…Just wanted to know.” You muttered before looking away from the man and bringing your attention back to the plane. You decided to send Seonghwa one more text.

You:

About to board- Yeosang’s dad is apparently ‘very important’ and I ‘shouldn’t bother him’ 🙄🙄🙄

Ddeonghwa:

Lol- What about Yeosang..? What’s he like?

You:

Don’t really know yet. Seems very well-mannered

Ddeonghwa:

Oh so he’s boring

You:

More of a gentleman than you. He opened my door for me AND helped me out of the car 🤭

Ddeonghwa:

🙄 your legs work literally just fine

You:

Lol- We’re about to be in our seats, gotta go call you soon

Ddeonghwa:

✈️❤️ don’t harass the big cheese

You couldn’t help but smile at the last little message from Seonghwa. Now going ahead and turning your phone off completely before shoving it into your pocket. You all made your way up to your seats- Well more like your rooms in this case. A first class flight to the Maldives already had you feeling like you were there. As much as you had flew first class, you were always excited to see your area on the plane. You could lock yourself off in your own little space for the next 10-12 hours.

Or so you thought.

“I feel like I should probably know this but- I never got your name?”

You turn around to see Yeosang, getting his things sorted in the empty cabin next to you. Oh. Guess the space wasn’t all yours. Then again…It never really was. Your parents had their own space and you and Seonghwa shared a space. You casually give him your name before settling into your area already, extending out the bed and getting comfy on it before digging around for wherever you had out your laptop.

“And I already know your name- Think everyone in Seoul does at this point.” You joked, hearing an odd chuckle come from Yeosang.

“Mm, yes. Not really what I had in mind for myself but- You know.” He sighs. “I haven’t really gotten to see any other models my age. They’re usually order or really serious.”

You turn your head to give him a questioning look. “Well I’m not a model. I mean not yet anyways- I mean I don’t exactly want to be- I do, just-“ You sigh too not being able to find your words.

“I get it- You just happen to be a little good looking and the child of an entertainment companies CEO so now they want to flaunt it?”

“Exactly! Like I want to showcase my art when I get good, modeling like that but not- Stuck up Gucci kid. Like seriously what NORMAL teenager wears Gucci, Prada and Louis?”

“Exactly- Despite having those things in my closet I don’t really like to wear them so much at least not now- I don’t even have a chance to buy half the things I own. They’re all gifts from parents or managers and other models.” Yeosang readjusts on his bed to face you now.

“Right-?” You readjust your body to do the same, computer finally nestled in your lap. “Literally the only thing I’ve bought for myself this year was this phone case.”

Yeosang laughed as he saw the phone case and held up his own phone to show that he had bought the same Kermit meme to decorate his phone with. Hell of a coincidence but it gave you two something to laugh about and maybe make things a little less tense. It was then, as you found yourself studying the others face for a moment you noticed something you had never seen before. Well- You had seen it at the drop off area but it would have been awkward to ask about it then.

“Hey, Yeosang?”

“Hm?”

“What’s the uh- The mark here?” You hold a finger up to point to the spot on your face, that mirrored where the mark was on his.

“Oh? That’s my birthmark.”

“I’ve never seen it before, not in any of your photos.” You shook your head, tilting it to the side a bit, curiously gazing at the mark.

“ Yeah, they usually cover it up- They said it’s not very aesthetic with my concepts.”

You could tell Yeosang wasn’t very happy with the opinion, but in all honesty you thought it was the perfect aesthetic. You didn’t mind it at all.

“Well I think it looks pretty cool. You don’t see a lot of birthmarks like that. I’d definitely promote it and show it off.” You have the odd boy a smile and he gave you a sheepish grin right back.

It was kind of cute.

“Ahem- So! You ever been to the Maldives?” You finally ask, whipping open your laptop, and scrolling through your random selection of games.

Yeosang nods. “ Yeah, my family likes to go every Summer. I usually go with my twin sister, but- well she’s busy alot. She’s taking off way ahead of me. But I’m proud of her.”

“Mm, I know the feeling. Seonghwa and his family usually come with us but they have some drama going on right now.” You sigh, finally deciding on a generic little cooking game you don’t even remember downloading. Must have been Seonghwa.

“Park Seonghwa? His father’s the CEO of that company with the new girl group right?” Yeosang questions, and you give him a hum.

“Ah…”

Your eye flash up from your laptop hearing his sudden change of tone. “What? What about him?”

“Ah well- It’s not really about him just.. His dad.” Yeosang suddenly whispers.

You quickly shit your laptop, eyes glued to Yeosang. “What do you mean, what about his dad…?” You whisper mirroring his tone.

“Well I don’t know really but I overheard my parents saying something about his dad and something with some of the girls in the company…it didn’t.. Sound good.” Yeosang began to trail off- There was a look on his face you didn’t like at all that insinuated things you didn’t want to pick up on.

You quickly shook your head.m, and opened your laptop right back up.

“No way. No, not Seonghwa’s dad. No way, especially with him not telling me?” You really weren’t going to believe some rumor like that.

“But my parents said-“

“Well your parents are wrong. You haven’t even met them and I’ve know his family for years. There’s always one rumor or the next trying to knock his dad out b cause of his success and this is no different. I’m sure by the time it hits the news, there’s gonna be a lawsuit on the idiot who started it.”

You didn’t mean to take such a tone with Yeosang, but with the way he suddenly went quiet and focused on his own distractions, you could tell you probably hit him kinda hard with the defensive.

But there was no way…

But at the same time…

After hearing what Yeosang had said you thought about the way Seonghwa had been acting before you left. And his fathers attitude. But with those being the allegations? That seemed way too out of hand. Maybe his family was just stressing the whole thing itself. You knew them pretty well. Seonghwa’s father was stern but he was so good to his wife and to Seonghwa. Your parents were a nice couple but not as lovely as his were…

But now that Yeosang had put the idea in your head, you had that sour feeling in your gut again. You weren’t even really playing the game anymore but idly just roaming the icon around the screen. It wasn’t long before your eventually gave up on the entertainment, and decided to try to roll over to get some sleep. Sleep really being you thinking way too much for hours and then finally falling asleep.

All you knew for sure was how relieved you’d be when you landed and were able to call Seonghwa.

#reading #fanfic #ateez yeosang #Ateez #Ateez fanfic #ateez seonghwa #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa #seonghwa x y/n #seonghwa x you

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coraliix · 1 month

Text

North Wind | Lloyd x OC

Chapter 7: Collision pt.2

If you have not read pt.1 of the chapter, do so! Context is needed for continuity.

A/N: For some reason, the text message format is a bit wonky in this post — please ignore.

Enjoy!

——————————

Soft knocking sounded at my bedroom door.

My eyelids fluttered open before clamping shut again at the bright sunlight streaming through my window. Barely awake, I couldn't give a sound of approval to come in, but Skylor gently cracked the door open to check in.

“Mari, are you still asleep?” she whispered.

A puff of air through my nose was all the answer I could groggily manage.

“I’m making breakfast right now. Come out soon, okay?”

I gave her a slight head nod, and she closed the door again. Taking a deep breath, I flung the sheets off of my body. Somehow during the night, I’d wrapped myself up in them, and still dressed in my normal clothes, I woke up warm and sweaty.

Pushing myself up with my elbows, I slowly lifted myself into a sitting position, staring blearily at everything and nothing as I rubbed my eyes. With a few more moments to wake myself up, I eventually rose from my bed and started to quickly tidy up my room.

How long had I been asleep? I didn’t usually wake up this disoriented unless I’d gotten very little sleep, or too much. Judging by the way it was completely sunny outside, I figured it was the latter.

Sure enough, when I came out of the bathroom after a quick shower and glanced at the clock on the wall, I saw that it was just past nine in the morning.

“Fourteen hours asleep. That’s gotta be a world record or something,” I croaked, voice hoarse from disuse.

Skylor laughed from where she stood at the stove. “I’m not surprised you slept that long. You must've been under pretty heavy stress.”

That quieted the conversation. Guilt rose in my throat like bile as I remembered her words from last night. She left that part of her past behind. But had I? I still had my kabuki mask. I’d hesitated to get rid of it, unable to leave that part of my past behind.

“Sky…” I started to say, hating how my voice trembled.

She turned to me, a gentle smile on her face. “Let’s eat breakfast first,” she said, plating the food and placing it on the table.

I grabbed utensils from a drawer and put them next to our plates.

We sat down and ate.

The following silence wasn't uncomfortable, per say. But it was filled with unspoken questions and thoughts, as well as the apprehension of what we would soon discuss.

I wiped those things from my mind for now, instead focusing on finishing my breakfast. One thing at a time. Even if this provided a respite for only a few minutes.

Once the clinking of our utensils slowed, plates empty as we finished our food, Skylor quietly cleared her throat.

“So,” she started. “The reason you came here was to escape your uncle, who runs a yakuza crime syndicate.” She didn't say it as a question.

“Yes,” I affirmed. “It was getting to be too much; there was no sense of anonymity, me and Hideo were constantly getting harassed by the public, and we always had police attention on us.”

Skylor frowned. “But why didn't Hideo come with you?”

There it was. The question I’d been dreading to answer — to answer honestly.

I hesitated before speaking, but with a sigh, I forced the words out. “He… sold me out to our uncle when I told him that I was planning a way for us to escape. I thought—” My voice cracked suddenly, tears surprising me as they sprang into my eyes. “I thought he would want to leave with me, but… he didn't.”

Taking a shuddering breath, I coughed to clear the tightness in my throat. “We’d spent so long under his thumb, and I’d— I’d promised him I’d get us away from him. Back when he started my training,” I choked out, looking away as heat rose in my face and my nose got runny.

Sometime while I had been speaking, the tears had leaked out my eyes and trailed down my cheeks. I wiped them away as Skylor took in what I said.

“Do you know for sure that Hideo betrayed you?” was what she finally said.

I blinked. Truthfully, I hadn't really thought about it in my haste to get away from the base and leave Jamanakai — I didn't have time to dwell on what really happened. But now that my thoughts were more clear, I thought on it.

“My uncle told me he did,” I replied, but my voice was quiet, doubtful. I recognized the irony in what I was saying. I was trusting the word of my uncle over my brother?

But no, there was no other way it could have been anyone other than Hideo to betray me.

…Right?

“And I didn’t tell anyone besides Hideo about my plan,” I sniffled. “It’s not like my uncle could’ve listened in from my phone or the apartment either. I made sure neither had any bugs or listening devices in them.”

“What about in Hideo’s phone?” Skylor asked.

I faltered at her question, trying to remember. I had been there with Hideo when we both got new phones once we were under Ikarashi’s protection, and we had triple checked both of the cellphones to make sure our uncle hadn’t messed with them.

“No, there weren’t any bugs in his,” I told her. “Unless they were added after he got the phone, but I figured he would tell me if he suspected anything happened. He was good at technology, after all.”

Skylor sighed, leaning back in her chair with a frown. “Maybe he was threatening Hideo to work for him and keep you in your place.”

“But I don’t understand. If that was the case, why wouldn't he just tell me?” I snapped. I blinked at my outburst. I was growing frustrated from the lack of motive or reasoning for why Hideo would betray me, but it wasn’t right to direct that onto Skylor, especially when she was trying to help me. “Sorry,” I apologized.

She waved it off with a hand. “No harm done.”

We sat at the table silently, not sure how to continue with the conversation.

Deciding to move on, Skylor asked, “And were you involved with any of his crimes?” She hurried to add, “Not that I care or will judge you for it — you already know what I’ve done — but I just want to know.”

Hesitation held my tongue in place.

“And if you were involved, chances are people might come after you now that you’re away from your uncle’s protection. I can help you handle that,” she said.

That last part of what she’d said was what persuaded me. True, not many knew my identity as Tempest, but the few who did could sell it to people who would use it to get back at me for the crimes I’d committed against them.

The memory of the man who’d been following me last night came unbidden, resurfacing and sending a shiver through me.

“I… was involved,” I admitted.

Skylor’s frown deepened. Not in judgment, but in sympathy. “You’re so young,” she murmured quietly, probably not meaning for me to hear it. “Then again, so was I.”

She breathed in deeply, leaning forward on her elbows. “What things did you do for him? And I promise I’m not going to use this information against you, ever. I just… Knowing what specific things you did could help me think of what you need in terms of protection.”

I sighed, bringing my arms up to hold myself. “Have you ever heard of the criminal ‘Tempest’?”

Her eyes widened almost imperceptibly, and I could tell she was trying to hide her shock. “The one in Jamanakai?”

I nodded. “That was me. I still…” I faltered, looking away from her. “I still have the mask.”

“Oh, Mari,” Skylor sighed, her voice full of sympathy. “When did you start?”

“When I was fourteen,” I replied. “My training started a few months before my birthday, and my first mission was after 5 months of training. Hideo knew about it.”

“Did he ever do anything for your uncle?”

I shook my head. “Not that I knew of. I fought tooth and nail to make sure my uncle didn’t force him to do anything. Everything he told me to do, I did perfectly, without any fights or resistance. All so Hideo wouldn’t get tangled up with his syndicate.”

The words I didn’t say were clear. But he ended up involved anyway.

Skylor’s jaw worked as she thought of something, but she hesitated before saying it. Was she going to ask—

“Did you ever kill someone?”

I hugged myself tighter, but shook my head, jaw clenching. “No. The most I did was break bones and sometimes cut people. But never anything fatal. And if they decided not to get medical attention and died of infections or something, I’ve never counted that.”

She snorted at that. “Fair enough.”

We settled into a quiet of sorts. Nothing else was said. Nothing else was asked.

My phone buzzed again, this time from where it was laying on the table. My eyes snapped to it, but when I saw the briefest flash of Lloyd’s name, I flipped it over.

Skylor, ever perceptive, raised an eyebrow. “Was that Lloyd?”

I pressed my lips in a thin line. “No,” I lied.

She sighed and gave me a tired look. “Come on, Mari, we just had an honest, heartfelt discussion. Why do you feel the need to lie about this?”

Exhaling, I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Because if you knew that I was ignoring him — which I guess you do now, hurray — you’d push me into talking to him. But I already know what the outcome of that would be,” I said, finishing my words with a pointed stare as she opened her mouth to interject.

“I wasn’t going to do that,” she argued, crossing her arms.

“Who’s lying now?” I mumbled quietly.

“Hey,” Skylor said, demonstrating that she’d heard me. “Seriously, if you really didn’t want to talk to him, I wouldn’t have pressed you to. But I think that deep down, you do still want to be his friend — you’re just scared that he’ll judge you for what you did and have done, and you also don’t want to bring him any more trouble. But trust me Mari, Lloyd won’t judge you or push you away. I promise.”

I glanced up at her, thinking on what she was saying. “I guess you’re right,” I admitted.

She smiled.

“You’re good at that, you know,” I said. At Skylor’s raised brow, I clarified, “Offering advice, giving insight — even when it’s annoyingly accurate, it’s really helpful. Thank you.”

Skylor laughed at my words, warmth filling her eyes. “Wisdom comes with age,” she joked with a wink. I chuckled softly. She started to stack our plates, and I followed suit by taking them over to the sink and scrubbing them clean.

“I think you should call Lloyd,” Skylor said while I dried the dishes and put them away. “Or text, or something. I know that he’ll understand what you were feeling that day. And you can move past your regrets once you resolve that issue.”

I nodded, mulling on a response. “Yeah, you’re right. I’ll talk to him later, after work,” I promised. Skylor nodded approvingly.

With a glance at the clock, I padded my way back to my bedroom. “Speaking of which, I need to get going soon if I want to clock in on time.”

“I can drive you if you want,” Skylor offered. “So you’re not in such a hurry. I need to get to the restaurant soon too. My customers are gonna start complaining that the place isn’t 24/7 anymore.”

I smiled at the offer, nodding before I stepped inside my room. “Sure. Thank you.”

As my hand circled the doorknob, Skylor’s hand brushed my elbow. I looked back at her, eyes asking the question for me. “What?”

She hesitated, pressing her lips into a thin line. “Are you going to tell them? What you told me?” Lloyd. And his friends.

Well, Kai already knew part of it, and I doubted that he was the only one, but that didn’t make me any more eager to reveal everything to everyone.

I winced. “No,” I admitted. Skylor frowned a little, eyes filling with disappointment and slight confusion. “I just… I don’t want to bring that part of my past into my future. And maybe I’m also scared that Lloyd and everyone else will react like Kai and not want anything to do with me anymore.”

“I don't think they—”

“I know,” I interrupted. “Just… Let me handle it. If the topic comes up, I’ll let them know. Eventually,” I promised her.

Skylor let out a sigh, but nodded. “Alright.” She pulled her hand away from my arm, but fixed me with a serious look. “Just don't let your secrets come between you.” I nodded, and she let me enter my room to get ready to go.

Just before we left the apartment, I opened the chat between me and Lloyd, reading his messages from last night as guilt seeped into my gut.

Lloyd:

Hey, I’m sorry for not coming after you

Can we talk about what happened?

I promise I’m not mad, I just want to talk

Please?

Me:

Does around 6pm work?

I have work soon and that’s when I get off

Lloyd’s response was instant. My phone buzzed right as I put it away.

Lloyd:

Thats good w me

where do you work???

Id rather talk in person

After I sent a text telling him where I worked and confirming our plan to talk, me and Skylor made our way to the garage and headed out on her motorcycle. She dropped me off at Steeper Wisdom with a wave and a “good luck.”

Nothing eventful happened during my shift, or during the time I ate lunch.

The only noteworthy thing to occur was when I saw that old man from my first day in Ninjago City enter the shop again. He’d come up to the counter with a bag of tea and we’d exchanged pleasantries. I learned he was a sensei and taught martial arts at his monastery tucked into the forest on the edge of the city. His name was Wu.

He asked me how I was doing and if things had gone well for me after I’d found Skylor.

Talking with him was nice, relaxing. It felt like I could trust him; his wisdom and kindness filled me with a strange sense of deja vu. And now that I was seeing him more clearly and not at night, I noticed just how old he looked. Ancient, like he’d lived for millenia.

He said he had to get back to his students soon, and bid me farewell.

The last hour of my shift passed by quickly. Anxiety pooled in my stomach at the reminder that Lloyd had said he would stop by once my shift was over.

After closing up the shop and grabbing my things, I stepped out the doors. I didn't have to look far to find where Lloyd was. He was leaning on his green motorcycle — the fact that all of my current friends had motorcycles never failed to stir amusement in me — and checking his phone.

He looked up as I stepped closer, tucking his phone away and standing upright. “Hey,” Lloyd greeted, tucking his hands in the pockets of his jacket.

“Hi,” I replied quietly.

“Did you… have a good shift?” he asked. It was clear he didn't know how to approach the topic of yesterday's events.

That made two of us. “It was alright. Nothing much happened. Met this cool old guy,” I said, idly fiddling with the chain of my pendant.

Lloyd nodded, eyes briefly flickering to my necklace before returning to my face. “That's nice.”

Silence stretched between us, tense as a cord where it felt like it would snap if either of us spoke. Lloyd decided to be the one to bite the bullet. “So, about yesterday…”

I braced myself for his words.

“I’m really sorry about those people.”

I blinked in confusion. That was not what I’d been expecting. “What? Why are you apologizing? And for what? You don't— none of what happened was your fault,” I said, eyes narrowing as I looked up at him with a perplexed expression.

“No, I mean— well, I guess you're right, but I meant about not defending you. I was just… scared, honestly,” he admitted hesitantly, scratching at the corner of his eye. “You’re the first friend I’ve made that hasn't had to deal with all the crap of being friends with me, and I guess I was just scared. Of losing you, and of you getting hurt because of me.”

My expression softened at his words, and I sighed quietly.

“And I completely understand if you don’t want to be friends with me anymore. It’s… it’s a lot to exist in this city around me,” Lloyd rushed to say, seeming to take my sigh the wrong way.

“What? You think I don't want to be friends with you anymore?” I laughed softly, feeling silly now that I understood where he was coming from.

“Lloyd, I told you on the first day of school that I didn't care about the harassment or whatever — I mean, it's different when it’s directed at you, but that’s a topic for some other time — and I meant it,” I promised him, stepping closer as if to prove my point. “You’re my friend now, and you won’t be able to get rid of me that easily.”

He laughed as I spoke, a smile lighting up his face at my words. “I don't think I’ll ever want to get rid of you,” he murmured, gaze softening as he met my eyes earnestly.

The gaze made my cheeks flush as I suddenly realized how close I’d stepped again.

“But I still want to talk more about what actually happened,” Lloyd said, fixing me with a serious stare. “Specifically how you put yourself in a situation where the spotlight is going to be on you now after I explicitly told you not to do anything.”

I puffed out a breath, rolling my eyes at him. “Listen, Lloyd. I’m not going to pretend like what those jerks said didn't hurt me in some way, but what they were saying about you was absolutely inexcusable. You are not a tyrant and you do deserve happiness, no matter what anyone else says,” I finished, pointing a finger into his chest in emphasis.

Lloyd blinked at my finger before looking back at me pointedly. “Thank you. But that still doesn't mean you didn't make yourself more of a target,” he pointed out, grabbing my hand.

This conversation was starting to sound strangely familiar.

“I can handle it,” I argued, dismissing the heat that rose to my face as indignation.

“I just don't want you getting hurt because of me,” Lloyd said again, grasping my hand tighter against his chest. “Can you just promise me that you won't act recklessly if someone insults me?”

I looked away with a grimace, agreeing that I had acted recklessly but not willing to promise I wouldn't again.

“Please, Mari,” he pleaded. “I can't— I don't want you to end up cast out and shunned because of me.”

I wanted to argue, to make the point that him being treated that way shouldn't even be happening, but what was the point? I’d already given him my rant on that, and he knew the truth of it as much as I did. Not to mention the fact that the puppy-dog eyes he was giving me made it that much harder to resist promising him.

“Okay, fine.” I sighed. “I promise I won't do anything reckless when people insult you. That doesn't mean I won't do anything at all, though,” I warned with a pointed stare.

Lloyd laughed, shaking his head in amusement. “I guess I can't expect any less from the girl who punched a guy for me.”

A small grin made its way up my lips, and I shrugged.

We stood there for a second before I remembered that his hand was still grasping mine against his chest, which had inadvertently pulled me closer to him, close enough to feel his heartbeat against my hand. Lloyd seemed to realize this at the same time as me because his face reddened slightly. He dropped my hand from his chest, but didn't let go.

“Speaking of which,” Lloyd coughed as he glanced away. “Where did you learn to fight like that? I mean, you had solid punches at that arcade game, but well, you broke that guy’s nose.”

Now it was my turn to look caught. “Uh… My uncle taught me.” The truth. “Mostly self defense.” A lie.

Lloyd gave me a bewildered look. “Self-defense taught you how to break a guy's nose?”

“Okay, so he taught me to be a little aggressive. That guy deserved it, though,” I argued. “And if someone is trying to kidnap me or something, you won't be seeing me fight purely out of defense.”

He nodded, frowning slightly. “I guess you’re right.”

“Of course I am,” I returned with a wink, making Lloyd roll his eyes and laugh. “And what about you? I didn't expect you to be able to throw punches like that back at the arcade.”

Lloyd smiled at the inadvertent compliment before giving me a furtive grin and placing a finger on his lips. “That’s confidential,” he chuckled.

An incredulous snort escaped me at his answer. “Pfft, ‘confidential’? What, are you a spy for the CIA or something? Why are you being weird about this?” I laughed. “I just want to know!”

“Let’s just say I have a very good teacher who is well-versed in martial arts,” he said, lifting a hand to cover his mouth as he struggled to stifle his laugh.

“You’re ridiculous,” I huffed out with a smile, unable to shake my head in disbelief from how bizarre his answer was.

His crooked grin only widened.

“I guess we should get going soon,” Lloyd said after a minute of comfortable silence. “It's getting dark.”

I tilted my head. “We?”

He laughed at my confusion as if it was clear what he meant. It was at that moment I noticed the two helmets resting on the bike’s seat. He reached back to grab both of them. “I’ll give you a ride back home.”

“Oh, thank you,” I smiled in thanks, accepting the helmet he offered me.

With a tilt of his head toward his motorcycle, Lloyd said, “Let’s go.” He climbed on first, now donning his green helmet, and looked back at me as if to say ‘get on.’

I hesitated for a bit before steeling myself and swinging a leg over to sit behind him. My hands circled around his waist to anchor myself and ensure I wouldn’t fall.

“Hold on tight,” Lloyd called over his shoulder as he revved the engine and pulled away from the curb.

My answer was masked by the air whipping past us as Lloyd zipped away from the tea shop and headed down to a less used road. I tightened my arms around his waist as we sped down the street. Because of the helmet, I didn’t feel the wind directly hitting my face, but I still felt the same rush of energy that came with moving at such high speeds. My heart was racing and blood rushed to my face.

I wasn’t sure if it was because of the adrenaline or my proximity to Lloyd.

Thankfully, Lloyd was too focused on the road and unable to turn around to look at me to notice the way my face was growing hot from the way I was pressed against him.

“You okay back there?” he asked when we reached a traffic light. He turned his head to look back at me, patting my thigh with a hand and immediately making me tense. It was hard to tell with the helmet, but it looked like he was smirking. Oh, the little bastard. He knew.

I stamped down the butterflies in my stomach, unwilling to let him take amusement in my flushed face, and nodded. “I’m fine,” I told him, raising my eyebrow at him regardless of if he could see it or not.

A light chuckle was all the response Lloyd gave. He pulled his hand away to place it back on the hand grip and started to drive again.

Only once he was facing away again did I mentally facepalm. Calm down, Mari, I scolded myself, half-tempted to smack myself, but two things would make that a bad idea. Have you already forgotten what you told Skylor yesterday? He’s a friend.

As we got closer to the apartment complex, our speed slowed and Lloyd stopped the bike in front of the glass doors. I swung my leg over the seat and hopped off, taking the helmet and shaking my head to get rid of the helmet hair.

“Thanks for the ride. And for coming to talk,” I said to Lloyd, who accepted the helmet I handed back to him.

He placed the helmet on the seat as he got up, taking his own off and mussing his hair with a hand. “It’s no problem. I’m glad we cleared up the air,” he agreed, giving me a lopsided grin.

Returning his smile, I nodded. “Me too.”

A slightly awkward air filled the space between us, but I didn't rush to break it. It wasn't uncomfortable; rather, it felt like there was something Lloyd wanted to say, so I let him sort it out before he spoke.

“My, uh,” he started to say, “ … my birthday is in a few days. I’m just hanging out with my friends to celebrate. Would you want to come?” Shyness suddenly replaced his boyish demeanor. He started pulling at the sleeves of his jacket — a tick I was starting to notice Lloyd did whenever he seemed nervous.

I smiled softly at the sight. “That sounds like fun,” I told him. “I’d love to go. When is it?”

Delight crept into his smile at my answer. “The 23rd. It’s on a school day, but we’re planning on just heading to a hidden spot at our favorite park and hanging out there.”

“Aw, that’s nice. I’ll definitely be there. Just text me where it is and what you want for your gift,” I replied, quickly pulling out my phone and setting a reminder for myself.

“Oh, you don't have to get me anything,” Lloyd objected. “You coming is good enough for me.”

I looked back at him and tucked my phone away with a grin. “I appreciate that, Lloyd, but don’t be stingy about receiving a gift. I’ve already decided that I’m getting you something. Can't change my mind, I’m afraid,” I assured him matter-of-factly.

“Mari.” Lloyd gave me a deadpan look.

“Nope, my mind is made up,” I grinned, giving him a look that very clearly told him I wouldn't be persuaded. “You’ll just have to wait to see what it is.”

He sighed, an exaggerated show of resignation. “Alright, alright,” he huffed, playfully rolling his eyes. “Just don’t make it something weird. Or do. That could be funny, actually.” He pondered that with a chuckle. “Anyway, I should get going now. I’ll— Oh, almost forgot!”

Reaching a hand to the small compartment under the bike’s seat, Lloyd pulled out a familiar plastic bag. “I never got to give this to you,” he said, pulling the silver pegasus plush out of the bag and holding it out to me.

A small chuckle escaped me at the sight. “Right. I almost forgot about our little exchange of prizes.” I took the plush toy with gentle hands, admiring it before giving Lloyd a smile. “Thanks again for getting it for me, even though you didn’t have to.”

Lloyd scoffed. “Who’s being stingy about getting gifts now? I just wanted to give it to you.”

I laughed softly at his jibe, my smile widening. “Thank you, Lloyd. It was very sweet of you.”

He gave me a toothy grin. “I don’t have a sweet tooth for nothing, Mari,” he winked, earning another quiet laugh. “Anyway, I should really be going now. I’ll see you at school tomorrow.”

Lips curving into a small smile, I nodded. “I’ll see you. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” he responded with a wide grin, slipping his helmet back on and giving me a wave. I waved back, watching him leave as something strange swirled in my chest. Different than butterflies.

It was like a sense of calm, washing over me and making it seem as though life was finally heading somewhere good.

——————————

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mar-the-magician · 1 year

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Studying For Entry Exams With A Sweet Fae Friend

I’m alive, I swear I’m alive!!!!! It has been… like, two months since I posted a chapter of Layered Realms. Apologies for that— life decided to kick my ass in every possible way around mid July and things are only just recently settling into place more. But!!!!!!! Now I can actually guarantee at least somewhat regular uploads, because I have a chapter’s worth of buffer! And yes, heheheheh, that does mean I am sitting on an entire chapter that none of you have seen yet 😏

Also, I’m aware that I gained about thirty-odd followers during the period of time that I didn’t post anything about LR, so if you’re reading this thinking “What the fuck is Layered Realms?” Then here’s your explanation! It’s an original story of mine, and here’s where you can get more info about it!

Cw/Tw: Character is depicted kind of spiraling, not really having a panic attack but something along those lines. Other than that, I think we’re good!

Now that all of that is out of the way, I’ll stop talking your ear off and let you get reading! Chapter six, part six of Layered Realms, part five of A Traveler’s Tale.

Studying For Entry Exams With A Sweet Fae Friend

I shoved the books, pamphlets, and articles farther away from me on the table and collapsed my head into my arms. None of this was sticking in my head, and it didn’t make any sense. I was exhausted, my brain was foggy, and I’d been working at this for hours now. These materials all seemed custom-made for people who had grown up knowing about magic, and all they really needed was a light refresher on the basics and to then delve deeper into the more obscure things that would be on the entry exams. I needed much more than a refresher on the basics, I needed an entire mastercourse. There was no way I was going to pass those tests. And then what would happen? I might not get to see Eris or Amir or Hedera ever again, and I would just have this knowledge and these books and materials that I spent way too much money on and time on, and it would all be—

I heard clomping nearby. It sounded like it was right outside my kitchen door.

“What the…” I approached the door and peeked out.

“Eris?!” I swung open the door immediately. Unlike when I’d last seen him in the forest, he had that illusion spell or whatever it was over his legs. Granted, not as bad as a kid with goat or deer or whatever legs standing right out in broad daylight, but they still looked wonky.

“Eris, what are you doing here?” I hissed, dragging him inside. He flashed a silly grin at me.

“I heard Amir and Hedera talking and Hedera was asking him to send you something, but he said you’d probably be stressed with studying so he’d wait. I didn’t want you to be stressed! So I came to find you!”

“How did you even—“ I pinched the bridge of my nose.

“Never mind. Does anyone even know where you are??” His face fell.

“Ooh… I should have thought of that, shouldn’t I…” ‘Oh no you made the child sad, you made the child sad you idiot—‘

“I hope I didn’t worry anybody, I don’t want them to be scared for me—“

“It’s okay, buddy, I can text Amir, remember? And he can tell Hedera and anyone else who needs to know. It’s gonna be fine.” I reassured him, ruffling his curls. I walked back into my main living room, motioning him to follow. His eyes widened at the pile of printed materials on my table and I laughed a little.

“Amir was right about that, I am stressed.” I snatched my phone from on top of a book about how commanders influenced history without being found out as magic users (one of the only ones that had made some semblance of sense), went to messages, and scrolled.

‘Just in case no one knows, Eris is with me. he came to cheer me up lol’

‘Ah, excellent. Thank you for telling me Traveler— I had a pretty good guess, but it’s good to know for sure. Now Hedera won’t bite my head off. 😂’

‘😂

does he need to be back by a certain time?’

‘Just don’t keep him too long. I’ll let you know if Hedera says otherwise, though. I can come pick him up and just teleport home with him when you’re done.’

‘sounds like a plan!’

I turned back to Eris.

“Amir knows where you are now, and he says you can stay for a little bit!”

“Yay!” He scrunched up his cheeks till they nearly closed his eyes, and pulled his shoulders right up next to his ears.

“Amir’ll come get you when it’s time to go. Until then, what do you want to do? I can put off studying for a few hours to destress, I suppose…”

Eris widened his eyes almost comically.

“Oh no Traveler! You still gotta study! You have exams in a couple days! I was just hoping I could make the studying itself less stressful…” I sighed.

“Okay then, buddy. How do you plan on doing that?” I sat back down and patted the seat next to me. He scrambled over to be next to me and had a quick look over the books.

“The way Hedera always tells it to me is like this: when you have an overwhelming project or problem, the first thing you gotta do is break it down to ‘manageable chunks.’ Then you just take the chunks one at a time, and you’re done before you know it! It’s like cutting up your food before you eat it!”

“I guess that makes sense…” I sighed. Eris smiled at me.

“And… this is my wisdom, so don’t take it quite as seriously, but if I can make it pretty and fun, I think it makes it feel better even when you’re doing hard things.”

“How would you suggest we do that?”

“First off, Traveler, you should drink water and get yourself a lil’ snack.” He commanded firmly. “Amir always says he can’t focus with an empty stomach.” I rolled my eyes and barely contained a sigh. ‘Does Eris even know what Amir eats?’

“Okay, little man.” He followed me around the kitchen as I assembled a bowl of fruit and yoghurt, ate it, and filled a canteen with ice and water.

“Yay!” He said as we settled back in at the table.

“Now. Do you have cute stickers and writing pads?” He asked with big, shiny eyes.

“Mm— somewhere…” I remembered one of my friends had given me a bunch of cute office and study supplies back when we thought I was actually going to have enough money to go college right away.

“Hang on.” I got up and began rummaging in one of my drawers. Somewhere in here, maybe at the very bottom—

“Here we go!” I tossed the pack of notecards and stickers onto the table in front of us.

“Yay!” Eris clapped his hands and and eagerly attacked the plastic shrink-wrap.

“These are cute! Okay, now try breaking this problem into chunks?” He looked over the whole stack of materials and singled out the example problems sheets.

“This seems like it’d be important. Is it actually the way that the tests are gonna be?”

“As far as I can tell.” I shrugged. He nodded.

“Okay. Maybe make a list of what’s asked in these questions?” My eyes widened.

“Oh my word, how did I not think of that?” He giggled.

“Sometimes a fresh mind and a fresh pair of eyes are all you need!”

“I’ll say!” I grabbed a gel pen and a lined notepad with rainbow bubbles on it to start making that list. Eris laid a gentle hand on my arm.

“I… I think you should read through all the problems first, then go back to the beginning and start writing things down.” I gave him a grateful smile.

“You’re a lifesaver, in more ways than one.”

“It’s no problem, really! I like to help!” He smiled so big that his eyes closed.

The problems were just as confusing before, but I carefully read through every word, taking note of repeated concepts. I made it to about problem seven before I started breathing heavier, thinking once again of just how out of my depth I was, and how hard it would be to pass those exams, and there might be intimidating people there, and I only had a few days left to prepare and—

Eris gently head-butted me, nuzzling into my shoulder.

“Take a drink of water?” His words were muffled in my sleeve. I stared down at him.

“Why?”

“You’re getting all caught up in your fears. Amir says water distracts you from your thoughts and makes you focus on the action of drinking. Maybe it’ll pull you out of your head. Take a drink of water. For me?” My hand shook a little as I reached for the canteen and brought it up to my mouth. I focused on the cold water moving across my tongue, then into my throat, and how the muscles in my neck and throat felt while I swallowed. It was so cold that I could feel as it went down my esophagus and into my stomach. I slowly set the canteen back down. As soon as I did, Eris locked his arms around my opposite shoulder, going under one arm and over the other.

“You can do it,” he whispered. I felt my heart squeeze.

“Thank you, kiddo.”

I managed to make it to problem nineteen before Eris butted me again and motioned toward the canteen. I huffed at my own sensitivity.

“Don’t feel bad about it! I don’t even understand half of these words! It’s definitely hard, and that makes sense. I’m just tryna help with that.”

“I know, but I wish could just— deal with my problems like a normal person.” Eris turned his head up to me with upturned eyebrows and wide eyes. They were hazel at this angle.

“I don’t think there’s any… normal people. Hedera always tells me there’s no wrong way to deal with your problems as long as you’re not hurting anyone.” I made a helpless face.

“I guess— ugh, I guess you’re right.” He just held me tighter.

“You got this.”

Every so many problems, Eris had to remind me to drink or take some breaths. By the fifth correction, I was getting used to it, and the next time I felt overwhelmed, I did it without him asking me. He smiled and nuzzled further into my shoulder.

“How many are there?”

“Forty-five.” I said, a miserable undertone in my voice.

“Hey, you’re gonna be good! Don’t worry! I’m here to be your friend, and you can start on the list as soon you get there. You just wanna read it twice so that you makes sure you don’t miss anything important.”

“I know, little guy. Thank you.” It took us a while, but we finally, finally made it to question forty-five. I already had about five themes and concepts that had stuck out to me because of how often they were repeated, so I put those first at the top of the list.

“1. All human magic users are classified as one race, “commanders”, regardless of affiliation.

2. Humans without natural command who practice manufactured command are called “practitioners” (and that’s what I am)

3. Since I’m gunning for the practitioners’ classes, I’ll mainly need to know about their methods. The main methods are; specific, complex hand movements; drawing diagrams, sigils, transmutation circles, glyphs, and runes; combining reagents as components, sort of like a potion; and the spoken word.

4. All the other types of visual magic are made up of runes, which originate from the demon and fae written languages, as well as drawing from draconic, aquatic (which is apparently mermaid language), and the ‘evocative languages’ of other magical races. The spoken word magic also draws on these resources.

5. Commanders, fae, demons, and other beings with a natural command over a magical force, all draw magic from their own realm. No matter where they currently are, their energy is intertwined with the magic of their own realm, and they channel it through themselves by directing their energy. Practitioners use outside methods of channeling the energy around them. That means whatever realm they’re in, that is what they are drawing magic from.”

I looked down at my handiwork with at least some measure of satisfaction.

“I’d say that covers the most important bits. Now I can try to work on some nuances…” Eris shook his head vigorously.

“You should find where these facts are talked about in your books and articles and stuff and go back over those parts. Highlight them with something pretty! Copy them off onto your notes! Make sure you know all those parts really well! Then you can try to work on some— smaller thingies.” I sighed.

“I guess so…”

“Take a drink of water now— in fact, maybe you should have some sweet drink to celebrate!” I smiled.

“That sounds nice.” He grinned big and pretty at me.

“Hang on, I can make you some tea! Meantimes, maybe work on your five facts. You could give yourself a sticker you like for each one you feel like you really learn!”

“Will do, captain!” I flashed him a grin. The hopeless, emotionally dead feeling in my chest and the pit of my stomach was conspicuously lacking.

“Just don’t burn the kitchen down,” I remembered to caution as I turned back to the books.

“I’m not gonna!” He protested.

“I know how to make tea, Hedera and I pretty much live off it.”

“But do you know how to work a stove?” He fumbled for a second.

“We-ell, no, n-not exactly… but Amir has told me how they work before!”

“I do not trust you not to hurt yourself, my friend—“ I got up and dragged the book I was working on with me to the kitchen, supervising Eris as he very exaggeratedly and slowly, to prove that he knew exactly what he was doing, set my little heat-proof glass kettle on the stove, filled it with water, and started it. Then he pulled from his brown leather satchel at his waist, which I hadn’t even noticed he still had on him, a little pouch of dried leaves.

“Hedera and I grow these as magic practice, so some of them are a little funny sometimes, but these are the nice ones.” He informed me as he got down two mugs for us. He swiveled his head around the kitchen and then asked

“Do you have any cloths that you don’t mind getting a lil’ bit stained?”

“Sure,” I motioned to the cupboard where I kept my rags. “Just pick the most beat-up looking ones.”

He lined the mugs with two raggedy cloths and crushed the leaves into the bottoms of them.

“There we go! Now we can drain the tea leaves out when they’re done steeping.”

“Mmm.” I smiled at him.

“Thank you.” He grinned, silly and sideways.

“You don’t have to thank me, Traveler! I wanted to do it!”

“I know but—“ the water for the tea started boiling. Eris placed a finger over my lips, effectively shutting me up.

“Shhh! Okay, now I gotta take care of this.”

Careful not to touch the hot parts, he took the kettle by the handle and poured the hot water into the mugs.

Once the tea leaf fragments were drained, Eris had somehow managed to turn the bitter leaf water into something delectable with sweetener and cream, and we sat at the table sipping our little “health potions” as I began thinking of them. (Though to be honest, I thought it might actually be a health potion at first— it made me feel that much better.) After he finished his warm drink, Eris got even more cuddly than before, squishing his cheek against me and closing his eyes. Soon enough, I heard his breathing grow more and more slow and even until he was almost snoring softly. He’d fallen asleep with his arms locked around me. I looked down at his calm, peaceful face and smiled, pressing a small kiss to the top of his head. It helped to have him close, breathing a slow, calming rhythm against my side, his warmth almost like a constant reminder to slow down and take it a little easier. Take a breath and a step back if need be. For the first time that day, I actually got into the zone. Time didn’t seem real as I lost myself in the materials, taking pages after pages of notes, marking down and tabling for later the things that didn’t make sense at first so as not to lose my rhythm.

It was quite the shock when I finally set down my pen and looked at the time. And looking out the window I saw that it was already getting dark. Careful not to wake Eris, I reached over half the table with my ink-covered dominant hand and grabbed my phone.

‘Eris is asleep— think it’s about time to come get him?’

It took a few minutes to get a response. As I waited I gently stroked Eris’ hair and stared pensively out the window, and then a notification with Amir’s nickname popped up on my locked screen again.

‘I think so

Hedera would probably prefer him back before the sun goes down completely’

‘Seems reasonable’

‘I’ll just teleport to you, if that’s alright— address?’

I sent him my address.

I gently shook Eris’ shoulder to wake him.

“Amir’s gonna be here soon to take you home, buddy…” he blinked hazily and continued clinging to my arm as I stood up.

“Mm, okay…” I grabbed my phone and half-led, half-dragged Eris through my kitchen. Whipping out the phone, I texted

‘I’ll just come out to the front with him’ to Amir and opened the door to find him standing there. Despite the recent less-than-autumnal weather, he was wearing a pair of black leggings and a warm maroon sweater that had glittery strands woven into the rest of the fabric, a heart cutout, and sleeves that billowed out before being sharply cut off by a wrist cuff of fabric. He tapped his ankle-length boot.

“Well, aren’t you going to come out to the front?” I rolled my eyes.

“Front, I’m gay.” I said in a monotone. He golf-clapped at me. Smug bastard.

“Very good, very good.” He held out his arms for the still half-asleep Eris, and his whole snarky demeanor changed. He leaned down and cocked his head.

“Hey buddy… you ready to go home? Did you have a nice time with our Traveler?” Eris nodded drowsily.

“They did so good… I think I helped a lil’ bit…”

“You helped bunches, kiddo.” I reassured him, awkwardly snaking my arm out from his grip and allowing Amir to wrap his arms around him and hold him close. He looked so peaceful, cheek squished and hands nestled against Amir’s side.

“You’re a lifesaver.” I whispered to him.

“Get much done?” Amir smiled at us both. I laughed softly.

“I think I absorbed more actual knowledge in the time he was here than I did in the whole day and half I tried to study before.”

“He took a looooong nap, huh?” He said, looking at how out-of-it Eris was. I nodded, smiling at him.

“Almost three hours.”

“He’s really taken a liking to you,” he slid an arm under Eris’ legs, which looked significantly less human than they had when he arrived. I waved.

“Bye, little friend!”

“Eris, oh Eris… your glamour could use some work,” he clicked his tongue.

“So that’s what his illusion spell is called!”

“Mhm,” Amir nodded, seeming distracted. He drew a circle in the ground with his toe, like he was planning something out— then he nodded and a low, nasal hum emanated from him. It felt like a solid something passed through me, and I cocked my head at Amir.

“What was that?” Amir winked at me.

“Demons are oft purported to be uncannily good at warding. I just warded this whole area— after all, if you’re going to be learning magic, you may have a mishap or two, and it would be awful if a neighbor were to hear of it or see it.”

“I haven’t even gotten in yet…” I mumbled, rubbing the back of my neck.

“Oh, but you will~!” He and Eris disappeared, the dim light revealing a small spark left in their wake. I watched as it dissipated with the last of the day’s sun. The sunsets were coming earlier and earlier these days. Finally, I went back inside and closed my door. I still had work to do.

…Apologies for the lore dump… anyway…

I’m not gonna lie, I had some trouble with this one! Big shoutout to BFF for helping me figure out what felt so wrong about the writing at first and thus leading me to fix it! Also she wants me to remind all of you that she has laid a claim on all of the LR characters and they are all hers! 😂

Thank you very much for reading! Next upload will be exactly one week from now! And I can actually guarantee that this time! 😅

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professor-kay-redwood · 8 months

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Since I don't believe they're very common anywhere else, I'd like to introduce all of you to Cam Rotom! I'd like to note something when wrong with the Pokedex and labeled it as an Electric/Ghost type despite them being Electric/Normal type. Don't know why but I'm looking into it now! Little mischievous guys but I love my Cam Rotom Harvey to death!

Hello! This is the mod speaking here! Whenever I post entries for the Edonian Pokedex or anything like that there'll be a little blurb from me with this text formatting about it! I'm putting it under the cut so that way anyone who doesn't want to read me rambling doesn't need too!

Firstly yes I did make an oppsie while making the dex card, but with how I make them it would be weird and wonky to try and remake it so we're going to say it's a tech error in character! Anyways onto my actual commentary about the design.

So I made Cam Rotom in attempt to make a sort of Paparazzi Pokemon for the region (hence it's behind the scenes name of Paparazzi Rotom!) I debated back and forth on its typing alot because Bug would make sense thematically with them forming large flying hoards like moths to a flame, but normal made more sense because Rotom is rather Literal. This is actually the reason for the mistake as I just put in Rotom's Default typing as a placeholder and forgot to change it.

I ended up deciding on normal with the logic of they're super common to see flying around. Plus cameras would be a common device with the California based location of the region.

I also ended up taking the arm things on most Rotom forms and turned them into legs of a tripod to go further into the Camera thing. Overall I'm really happy with the design!

#pkmn irl #pokemon irl #pokeblogging #fakemon #pokemon #fakemon region #edonia region #edonia pokedex

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belladonnix · 1 year

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This is probably one of my favourite things I've ever made..

So valentine's day is slowly approaching, and it personally means a lot to me. Although only one of my previous partners has ever taken that to heart.

It's my first valentine's day with my boyfriend, I posted previously about the jacket I made him for Christmas and I kind of went a bit bonkers with this holiday too.

Even though I know valentine's day is a corporate holiday, I like to find any excuse to do nice things for the people I love! So it's always been a perfect reason to go big for me.

Idk where I got the inspiration for this. I'm really hoping I came up with it on my own but I'm so flipping proud of this card I swear to god. It's so unique and special and I know he's absolutely gonna love it.

So behold...

Romantic biblically accurate angels with googly eyes.

Dude this took me like 4 hours to make. Sketching, inking, painstakingly getting the googlies in the right spot and glueing them down... And yes I know it doesn't look professional and the text is a little wonky but if someone made something like this for me, even if they just uploaded Google images onto Moonpig I'd be in the stratosphere with joy.

On top of this, even though it's the first valentine's day, I'm doing a photoshoot with a friend and making a full blown mini boudoir book for him. And maybe a candle. But otherwise that's it for the 14th!

I might update with his reaction if that's something people are interested in. But if you just like the card feel free to let me know, I'm already anxious he won't love it as much as I hope so I'd like to hear what other people think.

Have a blessed eve.

Yours, local bog witch xoxo

#love #valentines #day #alternative valentines card #inspiration #biblically accurate angel #ophanim #seraphim #relationship #goals #handmade #hopeless romantic #goth #woodcut #traditional art #art #drawing #goblincore

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talenlee · 1 year

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Story Pile: Goncharov

New Post has been published on PRESS.exe: Story Pile: Goncharov

Don’t worry, I’m not about to do an explainer on this movie, which does not exist. I cannot stress that enough: It does not exist. I don’t think I need to belabour that point, because it seems almost nobody’s trying to sustain kayfabe on this one. You’re not going to see a big, elaborate description of the critical analysis of a four hour long 1973 Mafia film starring Robert DeNiro, Al Pacino, Gene Hackman, Harvey Keitel, Cybill Shepherd and Lynda Carter (in a minor role), with a great big twist at the end like hahah, surprise, got you, this movie doesn’t exist!

I know, that is the kind of joke I like to tell! I like walking you down a garden path, introduce a ridiculous idea, and then surprise you by revealing that it’s true (or not, I mix it up). But no, in this case, I’m not here to do that. I’m going to do something so much worse, I’m going to talk to you about my feelings, and they’re not going to be happy or feel-good!

Content Warning: I’m going to talk about Goncharov, which I hope is obvious, and I’m going to talk about being angry at people and the way I felt treated without any intention to change their behaviour or ask apology.

First up let’s describe the phenomenon.

Goncharov is a community-constructed fake movie that users of Tumblr talked about in late November 2022, as part of an ongoing joke. I’m writing this in November, 2022, so for all I know after this point this thing has taken on a life of its own and transformed, or, it’s taken the course I predict which is, around December 1, most people stopped talking about it, the bubble of attention popped, some diehards used it as a platform to continue creating and it slowly trickled away as an interesting internet phenomenon.

I’m going to look stupid if the Goncharov Party gets elected to the United Nations or something in the mean time.

The genesis of Goncharov is a mis-printed label on a shoe that used what was probably a bad scan/OCR of a poster for Gomorrah. The text was a bit mangled, and a tumblr user shared a picture of the wonky text, and a commenter joked ‘this idiot hasn’t seen Goncharov.‘ From there, the bit began: Everyone wanted to make sure they were ‘in’ on the bit, acting as if of course they’d seen Goncharov.

And there are a lot of different ways this can go! This could become a real Seinfeldian moment, where the whole joke is someone goes ‘Goncharov has this in it’ and the natural response is ‘this idiot hasn’t seen Goncharov‘ and then repeat in a chain; everyone who shoots someone down about Goncharov talks about a fanciful thing from that movie, and everyone else then competes to sass them about how that’s definitely not in Goncharov. That’d be funny and kinda fundamentally meanspirited, a story where the joke is none of us have seen it and we’re all just pretending.

Tumblr did something different.

Tumblr went the other way.

Tumblr was suddenly full of people yes-anding everything anyone mentioned about Goncharov. People would mention a scene, and other people would talk about what they liked in the scene. People would mention a scene and other people would talk about how that tied into themes in a different scene. Imagery and symbolism and themes and vibes and all these things piled up and quotes, oh the quotes. Quotes that range from Winter comes to Naples with its bald demanding pomposity or “of course we’re in love, that’s why I tried to shoot you”/”if we really were in love you wouldn’t have missed,” which is as good as you imagine it being delivered, and of course, “it’s gonching time,” peerless text and all that, well, they are all canon and they are all yes-anded.

Crucially, they are not all true in the same moment and in the same way, but that is part of the play of Goncharov. It is about the memes, the ideas, the vibes of Mafia movies of the 1970s. It’s indescribably playful, and it’s fun, as you throw things into the thread of narratives, watching who sees your ideas and what they pick up on and what they share. There are a body of people who recognise that Katya Goncharov’s surname should be Goncharova, and the error shows that she isn’t really Russian, just like how she was never really married to Goncharov. Or maybe it’s because Goncharov is the one who introduced her and at no point did she correct him, showing everyone who speaks Russian in those scenes that he doesn’t really know her. Or maybe her name is Goncharova and everyone knows that, acting like that’s always how it’s been, and each of those ideas came from some people, perceived as problems and picked up and used and distributed.

Another thing that came up early was a lot of people immediately got involved on making sure there was a common thread of ‘unreality’ tagging of Goncharov posts; that people who struggled with ideas like gaslighting could avoid. It’s kind of funny, that the great event had three basic things to avoid; don’t #gaslight, don’t #gatekeep, but you could #girlboss, because of Katya, or Sofia, or Alina (the dancer who dies in the first 15 minutes).

There’s a lot of funny stuff you can do with Goncharoving around. And it has been a delight of a weekend, as this wonderful, silly, funny experience happened around me. And then it drew to an abrupt halt, as I approach people outside the space and ask: Hey, do you know about Goncharov?

Sometimes they yes-and me, and hey, that’s funny and we stop because we know the joke, and that’s that. And sometimes they don’t, and I then get to tell them about this delightfully weird thing going on. And it took about eight hours before I saw people who weren’t on tumblr and weren’t involved, complaining about the joke.

I saw critique from Reddit that Tumblr ‘should have’ done the ‘prank’ differently, as if this was a thing set up with an aim and a target, as opposed to people having fun telling stories. I saw complaints that the writing was low quality as if we needed to keep out the bad writing. It seemed overwhelmingly, the places where Goncharov did not happen had opinions about how Goncharov should be happening, which almost always demonstrated an opinion on what Goncharov was doing:

It was being fun.

I saw people calling people asking Neil Gaiman about it stochastic harrassment. Since Gaiman is on tumblr, and people ask him about things that interest them, a lot of them asked him about Goncharov, and he didn’t like that, so he made fun of people who asked him. And it felt like such a baffling criticism to have, because:

Stochastic terrorism is used to refer to creating climates inducing lone wolf behaviour, not trends of people asking about a common thread of commentary.

Tumblr has blocking tools that can be keyword based, so if someone asks you about Goncharov, and you have that word blocked, it won’t show up.

Neil Gaiman gets waves of related asks any time anything happens at all.

Which means that this felt like recruiting Neil Gaiman as an innocent victim of Goncharov as if a millionaire who can literally pay someone to empty his inbox deserves sympathy for the dreadful thing of being asked annoying questions as if that’s not what he has a tumblr account for, and it also means that bringing this up means you’re not aware of fundamental things about Tumblr, like how the messaging system works. It was criticism of a thing you’re pretty sure happened over there to someone you’re pretty sure can’t handle it, which was pretty bad, you’re pretty sure.

It felt very strange to me when it happened too because at that point, Twitter had just started on a path that sure looks like letting a few Nazis hang out in your soon-to-be Nazi bar? Dozens of other platforms were doing their thing and developing through a variety of dramas, and things were being done that had massive problems to them, but tumblr

Tumblr annoyed Neil Gaiman.

In a period where I was looking at what every single different social media platform was for, I was stunned to realise that ‘being Tumblr’ was an inherent mark against an idea. During a World Cup that people were tweeting about Qatar using slavery to build stadiums for FIFA, there was still this inherent disdain for Tumblr things because Tumblr had made up a movie that no corporation could take credit for, and were having fun telling stories about it. Tumblr was tumblr about it. And there’s all sorts of claims about why Tumblr has this position none of which I feel comfortable backing up and I don’t need to because this isn’t a thing to be solved. It’s an experience, much like Goncharov, to remember.

Just this heavy salvoing of: Hey, you know this thing you think is interesting? This really odd phenomenon of people creating stories and being silly?

Well, we’re pretty sure it sucks.

Check it out on PRESS.exe to see it with images and links!

#Unreality

#unreality

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