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certified-bi · 28 days

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Okay all my thoughts because some people have been saying that not supporting this change is not supporting artist and creators and as an artist fuck that.

1. Audiences owe you nothing. You have to convince them to engage with your creation not the other way around. This is something both the nonprofit theatre I work with recognizes and huge companies realize. It's just part of life. There are so many talented people in the world making amazing art, videos, music, writings, and on and on, and there's only so much time in the day. I'm not saying you shouldn't know your worth, just that being flippant about how little you care about those who can't pay isn't a good move. On that note...

2. PR is everything. If you haven't made a visible effort to push patreon, channel memberships or other avenues of making money, don't be suprised that your creation that was previously accessible to those without extra cash and to those who can't support foreign subscriptions due either to conversions or because it simply doesn't work, being made private isn't popular. There's a big leap from "We want to have more artistic control" to "We can't afford to make our content accessible to most of our audience," and people are smart enough to see this. You either have to make budget cuts or give into sponsors. This isn't unique to Watcher, it's part of literally every production from broadway, to Hollywood, to YouTube. Unless you can fund it yourself or get viewers to pay(which given how many are already strapped for cash...) that's life.

Not to mention they simply do not have enough followers to make the switch to a paid only site(dropping the first epsiode only on YouTube isn't going to draw people in, they're just going to say "oh why start if I'm not going to see the rest" and not watch) especially not one that is buggy and a security risk. Even if the switch had been supported its not going to end well. The only reason services like nebula and dropout work is because of the large amount of series and creators and the fact those creators still are partly on YouTube so new people are drawn in.

3. As for the price, 6 dollars a month is a not a good starting price for only their content and that's as someone who pays for nebula. I'd be paying the same amount for a fraction of the access to others work. Actually it'd be twice as much. And before someone says "it's only a coffee-" that's for you. Not everyone has your lifestyle. And with every other patreon and subscription service that says the same thing, it all adds up and I simply don't think 60 dollars for 48 videos a year on a subscription basis where you don't get to keep the videos if your situation changes, some of which don't appeal to every viewer is a good move. If you were able to buy physical copies of your favorite series they've made that'd be different, but that's not what this is.

4. I do believe that the employees deserve a livable wage. I also did not hire them. It is not on the viewers that they hired more people than they could afford to. They can charge that much if they want to to try and balance this out. They also shouldn't be suprised if not many can or will sign up. They also don't have to be based in L.A. L.A has ridiculous costs associated with it, and quite honestly it doesn't really add much to the content. I'm not saying they need to move to the middle of nowhere Kansas. Simply that living and basing your studio in a super expensive city and then being suprised money is tight is just weird.

5. Something that occurs to me is that they might get more views if their playlists were better set up. Only some series are given playlists. It'd be easier to find all of the series and binge them if they didn't just show off their more popular shows. Honestly the only draw the streaming site has to me is that the series are actually labeled well.

Do I think the weird ass energy towards Steven is necessary? No. He's not the only one at the company and they're all adults. I actually liked grocery run and homemade, and like to see them back. The parascoial attachment to Ryan and Shane is annoying in people's criticisms, but that doesn't make them completely wrong. If you're going to brand yourself as the anti capalist underdogs you can't get away with being dismissive of your poorer fans. The dissonance is what is causing this backlash and makes you look like hypocrites. I definitely think Steven is turning into the fall guy which is fucked up, his statement and the fact dish granted is one of those shows that make people uncomfortable about wealth flexs doesn't help matters.

#watcher #they really need a CEO who has business experience first and foremost or at the very least a consultant they actually listen to #they also should put more focus on other personalities and actual give them a chance to stick. none of them got famous or a fanbase in a day #give some of the others time to grab attention

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itsallyscorner · 11 months

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Coffee Talk | H.S

pairing: boyfriend!Harry x fem!reader

warnings: it’s supposed to be like a podcast episode so it’s a little long and has a lot of dialogue—just did some experimenting, lmk what you guys think :)

overview: Harry is a guest on your podcast.

a/n: Clearly, I’ve been listening/watching a lot of podcasts. I just like hearing people talk. Reader’s co-host, Mable, is inspired by Selena Gomez <3

Coffee Talk Ep. 96: (Y/n)‘s Boyfriend, Hobama, and Marriage

“Hello friends and welcome back to another episode of Coffee Talk! I’m your host, (Y/n), and I hope you are all doing well!” You waved at the camera doing your usual intro.

You did a drumroll with your hands on the table and continued, “Now, we have an exciting episode for you guys today. You have been asking—basically begging—for us to get this person on the pod and it’s finally happening today! So grab a blanket, get some snacks, and get comfortable, because this is gonna be a fun one!”

The video cuts to your co-host, Mable, who is sitting across from you on a loveseat.

“I feel like we should build the tension before we tell them who it is.” Mabel chimes in, stirring her Starbucks cup (whose label has been covered since you guys aren’t sponsored by Starbies).

“That was a really good segue for Roll Call, Mae.” You pointed out, calling her by her nickname.

“I gotchu, babe.” Mable assured you, throwing a wink in your direction. You laughed and adjusted your legs up on the couch you were on, “Right, so obviously, we have Mable across from me. How are ya, Mae? What’s the coffee order today?”

Mable smiled at you and crossed her legs, “Well since you asked so kindly. I’m doing very great this morning (y/n/n) and I have a caramel macchiato today.”

The video then cuts to Ryland who had a “bitch please” look on his face, “Mable’s only happy because she got laid last night.”

“RYLAND!” Mable screamed in shock, the video cutting to her reaction. The room erupted with laughter as she flipped him off and let empty threats stumble out of her lips at Ryland.

“YOU LITERALLY TEXTED IT IN THE GROUP CHAT!” Ryland stressed, leaning over the table to get closer to Mable. The video moved to you taking a long sip of your coffee while a familiar tattooed arm rested behind you on the couch.

“Clearly, the energy is through the roof today in the pod—we’ll probably get to Mable’s sex life in a bit.” You paused, smirking at your friend, “But back to roll call, we’ve got Ryland on cameras and sound. Ryland, how are you pookie?”

Ryland posed at the camera in front of him and waved wildly at it, “I’m doing swell stinkabutt.”

“What’s your coffee order today—actually Ryland doesn’t have coffee today, he has juice.” You explained to your listeners. Ryland held up his green juice, “Yeah, I’m on a juice cleanse everyone. Me and Sean are going to Aruba in a few weeks and I refuse to work out, so I’m drinking juice instead.”

“You look great Ry.” A voice off camera chimed in. The voice had a distinct accent that could only belong to a specific someone. Ryland smiled at the person, “Thanks Ha—wait I was just about to spoil who it was.” He immediately clasped his hand over his mouth with wide eyes.

“Y’know what, we’ve made you guys wait long enough.” You sighed before continuing, “Our guest is very special to me. He’s a recent Grammy winner, one of the biggest artists in the world, and he happens to be my boyfriend; please welcome to the pod mister Harry Styles!” You cheered, causing everyone in the room to clap. The video finally cut to Harry who was sat next you on a blush pink couch nursing a pastel yellow mug.

Harry adorable scrunched his nose and waved at you all bashfully, “Oh, stop it.”

“How does it feel to be on the pod, Harry?” You asked, turning your body towards him. Harry nodded and looked around the room, “I’m happy to be here, love, thanks f’having me. Also, I like what you’ve guys done to our shed, s’very comfy.”

“I totally forgot we were in your shed.” Ryland chuckled.

“Oh yeah, to everyone listening or watching, we’ve been filming this podcast in Harry and (Y/n)’s backyard.” Mable explained to the audience with a chuckle.

“It’s not a problem honestly, I’m glad you guys are getting some use out of it.” Harry assured you all as he glanced at the decorations around the room. There was an old school looking blush couch in the center of the room, which was across from a burnt mustard colored love seat. While the walls were painted a darker shade of matcha green with fairy lights strung along it.

Harry was seen glancing at the rug as he toed at it with his socked foot. “Where’d y’get the rug?” He asked you.

You peeked at said rug, “Your mom picked it out when she was helping me furniture shop here.” Harry’s mouth made an ‘o’ shape as he leaned back into the cushion, one of his legs crossed beneath him and the other hung off the couch.

“So Harold, what’s the coffee order today?” You motioned to his coffee. He proudly held the yellow mug up and smiled at the camera, “I’ve got my usual black coffee, courtesy of my lovely girlfriend.”

The camera panned to you hiding behind your Starbucks cup trying to hide your heated cheeks.

“And what do you have today, love?” Harry returned the question, naturally fitting into the conversation. You looked at the label on your cup, “I have my usual coffee order—H actually went out on a coffee run for me and Mable, so thank you bubs.” You answered, the corners of your mouth quirked up.

“They make me sick.” Ryland fake gagged.

“Aren’t you also in a relationship?” Mable narrowed her eyes at him. Ryland rolled his eyes at her, “Yeah, but they make me sick in a good way, like the wholesomeness is just too much.”

“What the fuck..”

Harry grinned at Ryland, “Y’gonna be fuckin’ puking by the time we’re done then.”

The camera cut to Mable smirking at you, “I find it so weird how you’re being so quiet.”

“Me?” You pointed at yourself amusingly. Harry glanced at you and visibly scooted closer to you. The sound of equipment being moved can be heard over the audio since Harry attempted to discreetly move his mic stand next to yours.

“Yes ma’am.” Mable nodded. You placed your cup on the round coffee table beside you.

“I don’t know why, but it just settled in that this is us, kind of like hard launching our relationship to the public.” You softly answered, hands fiddling with your (Harry’s) loose knitted sweater.

“But everyone knows you guys are together.” Ryland stated, confusion etched on his features. Harry rose his hand to answer. You giggled at him and nudged his arm, “You don’t need to raise your hand to speak, hun.”

“Sorry.” He shook his head.

“Don’t be.” You chuckled, allowing Harry to continue. “Everyone knows, but we haven’t been very public, y’know? We like keeping things between us. Like, this is the most public we’ve ever been.” He gestures to you guys sitting beside each other.

You chimed in jokingly, “Yeah, this is our first time sitting next to each other—like ever.”

Harry nodded along, “I’m shitting m’pants right now.” He stated, causing a few chuckles in the room.

“How much persuasion did it take for (Y/n) to get you on the pod?” Mable asked Harry, sipping her coffee. Harry’s brows furrowed as he stared at the ceiling.

“Not much. She asked and I was like—yeah, I’m down.” He answered, shrugging his shoulders for emphasis. You chuckled at him and added, “He’s forgetting the part when he admitted that he’s been waiting for me to ask him to guest star.”

“Have you really been waiting?” Ryland questioned your boyfriend. Harry’s brows raised as he exclaimed, “Yes! I bloody have! You guys literally had my sister on here before me!”

You all laughed at his slight frustration, “I swear it wasn’t on purpose!” The camera cuts to you and Harry, your hand squeezing his knee.

“Wait so did you guys meet through Harry’s sister?” Mable asked you both, she then was quick to add, “If you guys don’t mind me asking!”

You waved her off to assure her it was fine.

“We met through his stylist Harry Lambert.” You began before pointing to the camera, “Shout out to Lamby by the way!” Harry followed suit and instead waved at the camera with a lopsided grin.

“Anyway, Lamby and I know each other through work. We’re under the same company and we do similar things, etc. One day he invited me to come out to one of H’s shows, I didn’t have anything better to do, so I decided to go.”

“We met before the show though, remember?” Harry gently interjected, using his arm behind you to tap your shoulder. You nodded, “Yeah we did, I was fortunate enough to meet him before he went out on stage and we got on really well—“

You looked at Harry, “We probably spent about five minutes talking, right?”

“Yeh, it was pretty quick. I don’t know if you felt it at first, but like—Y’know that feeling when you kinda just know a person is gonna have some kind of impact on y’life?” Harry wondered aloud, hands waving around to try and get his point across. Mable and Ryland nodded, making sounds of agreement.

“It was like that and I thought about it the entire time I was on stage. After that everything seemed to fall into place and the rest was history.” Harry finished, smacking his hand on his leg. Ryland was the first to speak, “So after the concert did you try to always come up with an excuse to go to his shows or did you try to persuade Harry Lambert to invite (Y/n) more often?” Ryland pointed between the couple in front of him.

You and Harry stared at each other, his brow raised at you while your eyes squinted at his. Harry stuck his pointer finger out, “Well I got her number after, so I didn’t have to make any excuses for her to be at my shows. I’d invite her, she’d come and watch, then we would hang out after. Sometimes when we were in the same place, we would meet up too.”

“I’m assuming this went on for months?” Mable looked between you and Harry.

“Yeah, but the thing is, he was touring and I was working. So we had to be in different places all the time.” You clarified. Harry picked off where you left, “We managed to make it work though, I don’t think either of us were going to give up that easily.”

The video caught you and Harry gazing into each other’s eyes momentarily.

“Absolutely.” You agreed, scrunching your nose at him, similar to what he did earlier. Mable pouted at the two of you, “You guys are so cute.”

Harry quietly thanked her as he situated himself on the couch again. While Mable and Ryland gushed about how much you guys were “goals”, the famous singer got even more comfortable on the couch. He placed his mug down and leaned his body against your side, he softly took your arm and held it against his chest so you were holding him. He leaned the mic lower so it was closer to him and was mindful of where his feet was to avoid bumping his mug on the floor.

“I’m just curious, but what are like the weirdest rumors have you guys heard about yourselves?” Ryland asked, moving the conversation along.

“I don’t have any.” Mable shrugged.

“Maybe that guy last night can share some, should we call him?” You sang, jokingly pulling out your phone. Mable groaned and slapped her forehead with her palm, “I hate the both of you.”

“I’ve heard stuff about us, but I really think this rumor would be more fun to talk about.” You pondered. Harry shifted his head on your chest to look up at you, “Wha’ rumor?”

The corner of your lip turned into a smirk as you simply said, “Hobama.”

Harry suddenly threw his head back and bursted out laughing.

“Like President Obama?” Ryland screamed in shock, his brows raised to his forehead.

“I honestly don’t know how it started. It randomly popped up on the tabloids and followed me around for years—till this day, might I add!” Harry tried to clarify.

“I feel like it got even worse when Graham asked you about it.” You chuckled, fingers mindlessly playing with Harry’s brunette curls.

“What did Graham ask?” Mable leaned towards the couple.

“He asked if it was true that I had a sexual relationship or affair with Obama—I knew they were gonna ask me about it prior to the show being filmed. But at the time I was like fuck it and just went along w’it.” Harry started, “I didn’t know that it would become an actual thing.” He deadpanned, sending a look at the camera.

“Have there been any Hobama signs at any of your recent shows?” Ryland squinted his eyes at Harry.

“Not a one.” Harry paused, “But after this episode airs, I wouldn’t be surprised if I see a couple in the crowds.”

Mable crossed her arms, “Your shows are very interesting—in a good way—of course.”

“Thank you.” Harry grinned, “Yeh, we’ve got a lot of things going on. Every night it’s like a giant sleep over with a bunch of friends. We sing songs, we dance—“

“Trauma dumping!” Ryland interjected excitedly. Harry gestured to the man opposite him, “Right, we do therapy sessions.”

“Don’t forget the gender reveals, proposals, and helping them come out.” You continued to list, Harry nodding his head at every thing you said.

“Harry’s like a Swiss Army knife, he just does everything.” Mable joked. Ryland sighed and rested his chin in his palm, “You’re so talented.”

“You’re better at controlling cameras and all the sound equipment than me.” Harry acknowledged, raising a brow at him. Ryland snapped his finger at the Brit, “You’re so right, thank you, Harry.”

Harry placed his hand on his heart, “I gotcha man.” You then raised your hand, catching Harry’s attention, “Yes, m’love?”

“Can I just say how proud I am of you and like how insanely successful the tour has been?” You sat up, making Harry sit up as well. He remained close to you, wrapping his arm back around your shoulder. Though your statement made him pout at you, “Y’make my heart feel fuzzy.”

Mable and Ryland audibly awed at the both of you.

“No! Like seriously, it makes me so proud to see how much of a safe space your concert is to all you fans and anyone who steps foot into those shows.” You placed your hand on his tattooed arm and gave it a small squeeze. “I don’t think you realize how much of an impact you make on people’s lives, like we all appreciate you so much and I just wanted to remind you of that.” You shrugged, shrinking into your own shoulders.

“C’mere.” Harry said dragging out his words as he pulled you into a hug, this time he held you and your head was tucked into the crook of his neck. Instead of letting you go, Harry helped you get comfortable in his arms.

“While we’re at it, I just wanted to say how much fun I’m having right now. Thank you guys for having me” Harry gestured to Mable and Ryland across from him then turned to you, “And thank you to you for allowing me to be in your workspace and sharing it with me. You’ve always supported me throughout everything and now I finally get to support you and your craft, so thank you for trusting me to be here.”

Now it was your turn to pout, though there was a twinkle in you eye, “Thank you, H.” You hummed as Harry pecked your temple.

“I’m rooting so hard for you guys, you have no idea.” Mable said from her seat, the camera cut to Ryland who agreed.

“Yeh, I guess we like each other a lot.” Harry joked. You smiled softly at him.

“I don’t wanna intrude but is there a possible wedding in the future?” Ryland asked. It was silent between you and Harry, the both of you staring at each other before answering.

“I think so, I have some pretty high hopes.” You answered. Harry made a sound of agreement, “I think when everything calms down we’ll figure it out, but without a doubt it’s definitely in the cards.”

Harry let out a small chuckle and added, “Let me release the fourth album and then I’ll put a ring on it.”

The camera cut to you blushing with wide eyes, clearly taken off guard by your boyfriend’s comment. Mable and Ryland were quick to react, sending you teasing looks and screaming “oooo”.

The corner of Harry’s mouth lifted into a smirk, turning his head to look at you he asked, “How’s that sound?”

You scrunched your nose (adorably, Harry might add) and pretended to put some thought into it.

“Sounds like a plan, but on one condition.”

Harry’s brows raised as he waited for you to continue.

“You have to release Medicine.” You said, Harry caught on to your banter and feigned an annoyed sigh, “Babe, we’ve talked about this.”

“Fine, then can we get a puppy?”

“Of course we can, darling, we’ll have one by tomorrow morning.” Harry jested, sounding incredibly posh.

You turned to the camera apologetically and spoke directly to your boyfriend’s fans, “Sorry guys, I tried.”

Though in reality, you knew that Harry would release Medicine in a heartbeat if you asked him to.

#Harry Styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine #harry styles headcannon #harry styles oneshot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry edward styles #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles drabble #Harry Styles

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cosmicghoul99 · 26 days

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The Whole Watcher Debacle

Just giving my two cents on the whole Watcher situation. I've been following this since it started, and initially, I wasn't going to say anything, but honestly, why not? (lol)

I want to start off by saying that this was not a good business decision to make. By pulling this, they are essentially alienating their international and low-income fans. The world is going through a global economic crisis, and the fact is that creating a streaming subscription service when companies like Disney and Netflix themselves are struggling is not a sound financial decision. Saying $6/month is "affordable for everyone and anyone" is a tone-deaf statement. In this economy, that is the difference between getting to eat for a day or not. It's not just "two cups of coffee". It's quite literally life or death for some people.

Now, before I get hounded by people saying that "artists deserve to get paid for their works" and "it's all about paying artists until you have to pay them yourselves." I do support small artists and small business owners. I support smaller creatives whenever I can and whenever I have the means to. The problem is that Watcher is not a small artist. They are not even a small business. They are, and apparently always have been a company. In addition to that, they are getting paid. They profit from ad reads, views, Adsense, patreon, merch, and live shows.

Their patreon alone nets them at a minimum of $30k per month. This is on the lower side, mind you. I've heard some other content creators talk about this, and it's estimated that they make around $50k-$100k from AdSense and views. On top of that, they get paid $15k-$30k per sponsored video, and a vast majority of their videos are sponsored. They would make around 60k-120k from sponsorships alone. Add all this together, and they make at least $140k monthly. This is, again, the least, and this does not count in profit from their merch or live shows. Their merch sells for anywhere between $60-90 depending on the item, and they continuously sell out. I don't know how much their live shows are, but I imagine it's something along those lines. If even 100 people bought merch, although this is likely in the thousands, they would make 6,000 minimum from just merch. The current national minimum wage in the United States is around 7 dollars. Per month, if you worked for 40 hours per week, you would make around $1,120. They are making nearly 5 times that just from their merch. They make, on the low end, $150k per month. This is more money in one month than most people can make in 2 and a half years. Even the lower end of money on Patreon makes them more money than most people make in a year. Annually, they are making, and this is greatly underestimating the amount they make, at least $1 million. On the higher end, if we calculate that they are making around $100k per month via Patreon, and we estimate with their sponsorships, the range only increases, to around $320k, adding the higher end of sponsorship money and AdSense. Yearly, that's almost $4 million. Their range is $1million-$4million. I'm sorry, but if you are netting in this profit and still need more for your business, then you are doing something wrong.

Watcher are not struggling artists living paycheck to paycheck and barely making ends meet. They are a multi-million dollar company whose owners live very comfortable lives. This is fine, but they should not act like they are struggling when this business venture was because they were operating outside their means and want to go even further beyond that. YouTube is terrible regarding many things; I get it. There is nothing wrong with creatives wishing to expand, but if you financially cannot support that decision, you should not do so. I am not okay with people being hateful and bringing up unnecessary things. Still, the fact remains that all of their CEOs show their very lavish lives and spending online and constantly talk about it on their podcasts. They could not afford those things if they were truly struggling like they tried to make people believe. Some people are being rude online, yes, and that's not a good thing, but the vast majority are being rightfully upset and are giving valid criticism on why this is a bad idea.

Watcher is not worth a $6/month subscription. They do not have enough content to justify this decision, nor do they have enough followers. Youtubers with followings much larger than theirs have tried to do this and failed. Paywalling their content is not the right move. It essentially stagnates their growth. How are people going to find them, and how are they going to get attention for this? Posting one video on YouTube every time you make a new series -which we don't know how frequently they will update- will not push that content to people. Also, most people who see that initial trailer or episode will not pay $6 monthly to see the rest. The fact is that, like it or not, at $6, they are competing with some of the biggest companies in the industry. Companies like Netflix, Disney+, Hulu, Prime, and more all have standards ad supscriptions ranging from $ 5-8 dollars, and they have a catalog of thousands of shows, movies, and more. Yes, it sucks that there is a capitalistic monopoly on these services, but switching to it is not going to help them. Going from YouTube to Vimeo OTT will not net them the profit they think it will. They will struggle on this platform because it's arguably worse than YouTube, and eventually, it will raise the price to keep content up, so they will raise their streaming price.

That's another thing. They advertised this as their own service, unattached to anything else when it's not. It's still run by another company, and now they must pay that company. It feels disingenuous to say this when it is not true. It is not an app or something you can play on TV; it is a website, a fairly sketchy one at that.

There is, again, a cost of living crisis going on. Most people cannot afford to put food on the table, much less spend this money on a streaming service. And even if people wanted to pay, they've barred their international audience from doing so. If you are not in the US, you will have to pay for a VPN to use since the website is not available outside the US, and you will also have to pay a conversion fee since they did not include regional scaling of prices. $6/month is already a lot for people in the US but for people living in other countries with a weaker currency? That's anywhere from a week of groceries to a third of their rent. They did not consider how this would affect international fans, and that's not a good business practice.

And since I will get the inevitable, "You aren't entitled to free content," I'll say this. Yes, people are not entitled to content, but creators are not entitled to people's money. The truth is that if your audience does not like something or want something, then you will not get their support. As a content creator, you must cater to your audience; you can't expect them to pay for or be interested in other content or passion projects. Also, their content is clearly not free. They do get paid. In no world do they not get paid. I will reiterate that they are not small, struggling artists who can't afford to live. Watcher isn't a small indie company that barely gets by. It is a million-dollar company with around 25 employees who live lavishly in one of the most expensive cities in the world. They do not need more money. They want more money.

Plus, people are entitled to their content when that content is mostly based on fan-submission. A lot of Watchers shows rely heavily upon fan submissions and support. Are You Scared?, Too Many Spirits, Food Files, and Ghost Files happen because fans submit stories, places to go, evidence, and more. In fact, Are You Scared and Too Many Spirits are just stories and personal anecdotes that fans share and submit, or that Watcher finds online and read aloud in a backyard. (NOT what I would call TV quality, but okay...)

They posted a while ago that they were taking submissions for a new season of Are You Scared?, Too Many Spirits, and Ghost Files. They did this fully well-aware that they would soon release a paywall. Do they expect fans to pay 6 dollars to see their own submissions? Additionally, they could pass it off as free before this- even though they were getting paid- but now they are locking this service behind a paywall, meaning they make money directly from these stories and this content. People who submitted stories should be compensated since Watcher makes money from fan content.

This still does not acknowledge that they have not responded yet. It has been nearly three days since this blew up, and they have been almost silent. And it is deafening. The only things people have gotten are posts and statements from friends and spouses of the owners that are as out-of-touch and ridiculous as this decision. This shows people that they are doubling down. They had time in the initial 24 hours to respond, and the longer they took to respond, the worse it was getting. It's very telling and a slap in the face to people who have supported them for years, from Buzzfeed to this, through many different times, including the pandemic. Watcher relies so heavily on their audience, yet they do not have the respect for their audience to at least put out a small statement. That is why people are upset. They were helped and built up so much by their audience, then made a video saying, "Thanks for supporting us for years, but if you can't afford us anymore, get out," and maintained radio silence. At the same time, their close friends and family basically called people entitled for not wanting to pay for a service they did not ask for, during a global economic crisis. No one asked for "higher production value" or "TV quality." People were happy with normal, low-production content, like the kind that got them famous/popular in the first place. Yes, they can want to make more expensive content, but they cannot guilt-trip their fanbase into paying for it. I am a small creative. If I make a ridiculously expensive art piece or something with expensive materials, then hand it to someone and say, now you have to pay me for this, even though you didn't ask for this, they will not pay me. It's as simple as that.

Yes, artists should get paid. But Watcher already get paid generously. Not only have they done wrong to their fans, but they have also screwed over their patreon members by essentially saying that they have to pay double for their content. They suddenly switched the tiers on Patreon, removed most of the content, and left only the podcast, and their members do not even get the subscription for free. Most of their Patreon members pay between the $ 10 and $20 tiers, but many also pay around $100. They don't get the service for free even after paying Watcher that much and for so many years. That's spitting on the people who have financially supported you for years.

All in all, this is a very poor financial and business decision, and they are making it worse by remaining silent. They have alienated most of their audience, upset most paying supporters, and been trending for three days for all the wrong reasons. Massive YouTubers have made videos on this, and it has broken from fandom drama into the general internet. This is the beginning of the end, unfortunately. I don't wish any ill will, this is not hate at all. No one at Watcher is a bad person at all, they just made a bad business decision. Unless they apologize, I can't see this working out.

Sorry for the massively long post, I’m not an avid watcher (hehe) or fan of their content but I've had many thoughts bouncing around my head about this business decision since this started, and I wanted to share.

TLDR: Watcher made a seriously bad business decision that upset most of their audience, including paying supporters; claimed to be struggling even though they very clearly aren't and have not responded to their incensed fanbase yet, despite the urgent need to do so.

#watcher #watcher entertainment #do i think some people are being really insane racist and hateful?#yes #do NOT do that shit #but they aren't struggling THAT much #they don't need to do this #they just want more money tbh #most of the criticism is constructive and valid #Am I investing in this because I'm devastated by Ice Adolescence being cancelled and this distracts from it?#absolutely

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deliciousangelfestival · 3 days

Text

Let Me Love You - 7

Character: college!Bucky x Female!Reader

Summary: On a mysterious, rainy night, Bucky witnesses a distressing encounter involving his crush.

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 , Chapter 5 , Chapter 6 , Chapter 7 , Chapter 8.

Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Please let me know what your thoughts are. I'd love to hear your feedback. Thank you once again.

Lloyd scanned the campus frantically, searching for Nicky. Desperation clawed at him as he pulled out his phone and checked the friend circle for any recent photos.

She was tagged in a picture at a nearby café with her girlfriends. Gritting his teeth, he broke into a run.

When he reached the café, he spotted her immediately. Nicky was laughing with her friends, completely oblivious to the chaos she had caused.

The sight of her carefree demeanor fueled his anger, knowing she didn't care that she had almost ruined someone's life.

"Nicky!" he shouted, his voice trembling with fury. The entire café fell silent, all eyes turning towards him.

Nicky's laughter faded as she met Lloyd's blazing gaze, realizing that her actions were about to catch up with her.

"You selfish bitch. You can't be trusted," Lloyd spat, his voice shaking with anger and frustration.

Nicky looked up, feigning innocence. "What?" she replied, trying to mask her guilt with a confused expression.

Lloyd couldn't believe that he had lost you because of this selfish woman. "It's you," he accused, his eyes burning with betrayal.

Nicky tried to maintain her composure but couldn't hide the tremble coursing through her body as she faced Lloyd's wrath. For the first time, she realized the true impact of her actions.

Nicky crossed her arms, trying to regain some semblance of control. "I will tell my father to stop sponsoring you," she threatened, her voice icy.

Lloyd smirked, stepping closer until she recoiled back into her chair. "Do it. I don't care. I got here because of my own effort," he retorted, his voice steady and defiant.

Without another word, he turned and walked away, leaving Nicky seething. Realizing her threat had no effect, she clenched her coffee mug in frustration, her carefully constructed facade of power shattered.

🌊

Feeling overwhelmed with misery, you had lost the will to join the class and were sitting alone in a quiet place behind the university pond.

Consumed by your thoughts, you didn't notice Bucky approaching until he spoke. "Y/N, do you need anything?"

Surprised, you saw him standing there, slightly out of breath. He had been searching the campus to find you.

You kept looking at him, taken aback by his question. Instead of asking if you were okay, he asked what you needed.

With a weak smile, you patted the empty spot beside you. "I need someone to talk to."

Bucky nodded and sat down next to you. "Of course."

You sighed, your eyes still fixed on the water pond in front of you. "I'm so mad and embarrassed that everyone will know about my mom. I've been through that already. I hate the pitying looks I get every time people from my hometown see me and my mom."

You closed your eyes, the memories flooding back. "I hate those looks. Their judging eyes."

Bucky gently placed his hand on your shoulder, offering silent support.

Bucky placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. "It won't happen to you."

You frowned. "What do you mean? You didn't see the looks they gave me this morning."

Bucky shook his head. "It wasn't you who should be ashamed and hide. It's the person who put it on the campus homepage."

He continued, "Every family has its own problems, and this person used yours to attack you."

His words were reassuring. You realized he was right—you hadn't done anything wrong.

Seeing that you had calmed down a bit, Bucky added, "I've contacted the campus IT department to check the IP address. Not many people have access to publish articles on that homepage. We'll soon find out who that person is."

You gave him a small, grateful smile. "Thank you, Bucky."

Your smile made Bucky's heartbeat quicken. He didn't expect your next words.

"You're a good person, Bucky. I'm grateful that you care for me."

Bucky stammered, "Oh... That's what friends—"

You let out a weak laugh. "I'm not that dense, Bucky. You're always there for me."

Bucky looked at you earnestly. "I will try anything to help you."

Your heart felt warm at his words. After that, neither spoke, but there was a silent agreement that something was blooming between you two.

Both of you were lost in the moment, unaware that someone was watching you from a distance with a look of agony.

That person was Lloyd.

Lloyd had been looking everywhere for you, his frustration growing with each passing minute. Unable to reach you by phone since you had blocked him, he searched the campus tirelessly.

When he finally found you, it was only to see you from behind.

Watching you sit beside someone else, leaning on Bucky for support, made it painfully clear that he had already lost you.

It should have been him comforting you, just like he had when your parents went through their painful divorce.

He remembered being there for you through thick and thin, and the realization that he had thrown it all away hit him like a punch to the gut.

Now seeing you with someone else, Lloyd felt a surge of nausea rise within him. The sight of you finding solace in another's presence was like a dagger to his heart.

But what could he do now? Everything had crumbled because of him. He cheated on you, and now he had to face the consequences of his actions.

With heavy steps, Lloyd turned and walked away, the weight of his regret weighing him down. He knew he had lost you, and there was nothing he could do to change that now.

📱

Bucky drove you back to your apartment, but before that, he made sure you ate something first. He didn't want you to get sick.

You chuckled at Bucky's motherly instincts, finding comfort in his caring nature.

As you settled back into your apartment, thoughts of your mother crept into your mind. You wondered how she was doing, and if she knew what had happened to you.

Deciding to take a shower to clear your head, you washed your hair with cold water, hoping to soothe your thoughts.

The moment you stepped out of the bathroom, your cell phone rang. Despite not wanting to talk to anyone, you recognized the specific ringtone you had set for one person in your contacts.

Taking a deep breath, you answered, "Hi dad."

Your father, Matthew, had moved out to the city after the divorce from your mother, driven by his guilt for betraying his wife and you. It was, in a way, his way of running away from his mistakes.

Despite the distance, Matthew had kept in touch with you, occasionally offering to pay your school tuition as a gesture of remorse.

However, you had always declined, still harboring anger towards him. Instead, you asked him to send the money for your mother's treatment, a way for him to contribute positively to the family.

Now, out of the blue, he was calling you.

"I heard what happened," he said solemnly.

Surprised, you asked, "How did you know?"

"Don't worry about that," he replied. "They made a big mistake for making my daughter cry."

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Author Note:

Hey friends,

If you've been enjoying the content, I've set up a Ko-fi account. Your support through tips would mean the world and help me keep creating. Only if you feel like it!

Here's the link: Ko-fi

Thanks a bunch for being fabulous followers!

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netherworldpost · 22 days

Text

Two booklets, both named Jon. A fan comic and second fancomic about Garfield — or more specifically — Jon Arbuckle, with Liz, Garfield, and Odie as supporting characters.

These are more than a fancomic, they are love letters. Beautifully drawn, thoughtfully written, amazing-to-the-Garfield-world thought out love letters.

Jon is a cartoonist and has been for some time. He has achieved enough renown to live a comfortable life, has a cozy home with Liz and their pets.

It’s as clear Jon loves the world of comics and cartoons as Gale Galligan does, as they feature heavily in the second volume especially.

The characters are lively. The stories are tremendous fun.

I cannot emphasize enough my recommendation of “buy or borrow both.” They can be read individually, easily, but after you finish one you are going to want more. Ditto for the second.

They are, in length, what I like to call “coffee cup comics.” It takes about that long to read it twice, as I do every time I pick them up.

They are available in print for sale, or to read free, on Gale's website

This is not a paid post, it is not sponsored, I just.

Love.

These comics.

So much.

#garfield #jon arbuckle #odie #garfield and odie

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noritoshiikamo · 1 year

Text

a part of touch starved osamu mess i just want to get out of my head

cw touch starved soft osamu, talk of boners, penetrative sex, dirty talk

osamu miya has few simple but sure set of obsession.

food, his restaurant, his family and every single fucking time he sees you play volleyball. you, a perfectionist, who likes to try and think you are able to hide your ‘workouts’ at home masking as self care didn’t realise that it was just feeding his kink.

if he could ever call it that.

it started monday morning, so simple and innocent as you stretching off your sleep by the bed side. his lazy eyes shot opened as it fell on your back. the defined muscles barely hidden by his old high school sleeveless jersey as you tried to shake off last night’s sleep. nuzzling into the pillow that smelled just like you, he watched as you tied your hair, yawned and leaned forward to stretch further. the bed hadn’t been the kindest on your back and that muffled crack of your joints had you moaning in relief. you turned around, half smile with a flush on your cheeks, “mornin’ baby,” your raspy sleepy voice greeted him like a cup of coffee on a rush hour. his heartbeat were a mess. you leaned to kiss his nose and left for the bathroom. it was baffling how oblivious his wife was to the nuisance she had imposed on him. he knew you were saying something but nothing registered in his head. it has to be a dud because boys’ scout could’ve camp in his short.

on wednesday, osame got the privilege to drop off some food for lunch. he didn’t planned to sponsor the entire’s team lunch, but you’ll always come home with a pout saying one of your teammates had gobbled half of it. happy wife is a happy life, so on this rare occasion, he had hauled his ass, drove an hour away with a trunk full of onigiri and some special bento for you. which also means, he got to see you train. he missed volleyball, maybe for the memories or the people he had play with, but an entire career of it was too handful. his face flushed, feet glued to the floor.

had the uniform always been this short?

the short hugged your ass so well that every time you lowered down to receive a serve, he wondered how the fuck is the material holding up. women’s volleyball had always had the sleeveless jersey but every time you jumped, it turned into a crop top. his mouth dried up as beads of sweat roll off your toned belly. he didn’t realised how long he had been standing there, trays of food in hand until somebody blew a whistle. your eyes finally met. it was pretty how easy you shook off all the ache in your muscle, glowing in happiness as your eyes set on him. you didn’t realised that he knew you too well like the back of his hand, the overwhelmed eyes you made was the same fucking look he craved every time he trapped you with his body down on the bed. samu, t’much, it echoed in his head. you licked your lips, a small smile on your face. osamu blushed. he knew it was for the food, but boy, the walk of shame he had to do down the hall with the food tray low to his waist down the cafeteria was hellish to bear.

saturday came like a breeze. it was your rest day because sunday is game day. osamu, like a perfect partner he is would always took the day off. what’s the point of paying his competent working extra on his day off if he is unable to spend some time with you. “y’kno, they call it a rest day because yer supposed ta rest,” he muttered, watching in annoyance as you unrolled the yoga mat in the living room. with the coffee table pushed aside and some old 90s sitcom rolling on the tv that you both had watched on repeat for the umpteenth time, you stick your tongue out, ignoring your whiny husband’s stare as he nursed his morning coffee.

“i’m just restless. so yoga helps.”

if it was years ago, he would’ve blamed it on atsumu for introducing it to you. but as he brought the cup up to his lips, his body tensed and the coffee started to taste a little bitter than it was supposed to be. because now atsumu is an annoyance for instigating the growing feeling he had as his wife pulled an upward dog. was it upward dog, whatever the fuck the position called but all he knew was his view was no longer the clean house he slaved his years to buy but his wife’s fleshy ass up in the air. his eyes followed like a hawk, from one position to another position. every time your eyes met, you flashed a smile, talking about something that he was sure wasn’t that significant. he promised, when he isn’t throbbing hard behind the kitchen counter, staining his boxer with his pre cum, osamu is a great listener.

he didn’t realise he had moved until you called his name. he was standing behind you, his hands were on your waist as he sort of pinned you down from moving. you were stuck in the position, bending forward palms flat on the floor, unable to lift your legs to complete the downward facing dog split.

“samu?”

his mouth dried up again. “y-your back wasn’t straight enough when you lift your leg. i’ll help.” you shrugged at his words, pleased that your husband wasn’t annoyed but keen to help. you raised your leg and it went up until you were able to support it by his shoulder. it was perfect until something clicked. you cursed.

“samu, you’re an asshole.”

his fingers reached for the elastic of your shorts. “straighten up, ya not holding yer posture correctly,” he muttered nonchalantly, a small spark of naughtiness glinted in his eyes as he pushed your back side lower until it was brushing against his growing bulge. “i would, if you’ll stop brushing your cock against me,” you hissed, watching as his short pooled along his ankles.

he hushed you, spitting lightly along his shaft, tugging lightly before running gently against your slit. you cursed again, bracing your palm against the floor as your arms trembled. the sound he was making wasn’t helping you as it went straight down to your aching cunt. osamu took his sweet time, with you trapped in the position, his other hand kneaded your ass, slowly rutting against your cunt. the friction from the thong and pooling wetness were driving him insane.

“tsumu said that the pose can build yer core strength,” he watched excitedly as your legs trembled every time his tip brushed against your clit, “just focus on ya hands and i’ll take care of the rest, ‘kay?”

the weak sigh and soft okay out of your lips were reassuring that osamu alone wasn’t the one having fun here. he loves it when you submit to his needs, even when it was ridiculous to bear. you always thought you married the sane one. the tv were now on the black screen, prompt of ‘are you still watching?’ appeared as his cock finally slipped in. he could see your twisted face on the reflective screen.

osamu is a sick person in mind.

he was sick for you and the way your cunt kept sucking him in drove him wild. this was his kind of yoga. his thrusts were erratic, your back flushed against his back. abandoned was whatever pose you had earlier, your back were straighter against his chest anyway. he held one of your legs up, spreading it enough to see the reflection of his cock jackhammering into your dripping cunt. another kept your head aside as his teeth marked your neck as his. “match t’morrow, hngh samu,” you gasped, hand up tugging on the hair on the back of his nape but it did nothing but tightened his lips against your skin that were bound to bruise. he released it with a pop, happy as he eyed the stained skin.

“so?”

“fuck you, samu.”

“right,” thrust, “back,” thrust, “at,” thrust, “ya.”

the sound of your skin slapping echoed the space, you could only whimper weakly as you surrendered to the pleasure, his pleasure. he couldn’t care less if you were trembling from high, gushing all over his cock as he powered through your orgasm. your tightened wall massaging his aching cock meant that he just had to fuck you faster and harder.

you cried in pleasure were louder, the neighbour should know his name by now.

he kissed you feverishly, lapping the marks and sweat agains your skin. nibbling on your lobe, licking beads of sweat and tears down your flushed cheeks. he knocking air out of your lung, you swore you could feel his thrusts up to your throat.

“s’good baby, fuck i could stay in yer cunt forever. why ya gotta be so fuckin’ perfect all the time. ya cunt is driving me crazy. fuck fuck, baby i wanna cum so badly. i wanna cum in you. baby ya think i can fuck ya t’morrow and ya do ya thing with cunny full of my cum. fuck baby, i wanna see my cum dripping down your legs.”

his lewd remarks kept on coming and all you could do is nod and beg because who doesn’t want a cunt full of osamu miya. every body does and here you are being the chosen one. osamu miya has few simple but sure set of obsession.

food, his restaurant, his family and every single fucking time he sees you play volleyball and your aching cunt begging for his release.

you heard the fabric of your bra ripped as he yanked it down, releasing the aching breast for his hand to grab a handful. his warm breath echoed against your cold skin, you listened to his pants, deep throaty moan as he chased his release. it was getting rougher, tip brushing against your cervix, beads of his own sweat rolling off onto your shoulder.

he whined, drool dripped over the corner of his lips, “baby.”

“fuck samu, inside please please,” you gasped, head thrown back. there were no reasoning when your husband had set his mind on one thing. he was close. his grip were tighter as if you were about to slip away, his whines were louder and his thrust weren’t easing. you couldn’t help the scream your throat let out as he cum, he was pressed down and tight against your cervix. his thrust were slower, yet sheathed deep longer. he wanted all of him in you. you were going to keep his cum inside.

his praises didn’t fall short. he showered you with kisses, telling you how much a good girl you were and how well you were taking him in. you could feel him in the shape of the bulge against your stomach. once he was down from the high, he set you down slowly on the floor, you rested your chest against his as you both tried to catch a breather.

he finally kiss you on the mouth, gently this time, caressing your cheeks and hair away from your face. in the heat of moment, saturday morning became your favourite day of the week as his lips moved to tell you how much he loved you between the kiss. you reciprocated happily, watching his soft eyes glistened in excitement and content.

the sun’s now up, warming the room, bouncing against his skin so majestically. somehow the tv had resume the show and the miya household were buzzing again. time always stop when you’re with him. you brushed his hair off his sweaty forehead. his eyes were full of love yet he always like to ruin the moment with being an ass.

“fuck, we should do yoga more,” he grinned, planting a kiss on your own forehead as you struggled to catch your breath. your mat were a soaking mess, sticking down against your bare skin as you watched the happy man wobbled happily to the kitchen with his dick swinging, staring into the fridge for some snacks.

in sickness and health, you vowed, smile on your lips grew as you laid down.

that’s your beloved husband.

sunday came like a breeze. it took a lot of running around the house and screaming as osamu chased you down bare naked, threatening to keep his promise. but you countered his threat, holding his phone with finger on speed dial he knew were gonna bring a bigger wrath down to the mankind; mama miya.

you got him out of the house, unscathed with your lover boy pouting all the way to your match.

“ya promise,” he huffed, locking the door every time you tried to escape.

your giggles echoed the car as you nodded. you leaned against him, planting a small innocent kiss against his lobe. the boy froze. “yes, samu. i’ll promise if you keep it,” your hand went down to grab the surprisingly half hard cock through his jeans, “in ya pants, i promise you, i’m all yours this week.”

his brows shot up, “anywhere?”

“anywhere, everywhere.”

“even if in at the shop?”

you tugged his ears playfully, “geez samu, as if we haven’t violated the health code of conduct the first month we got the shop set up.” you walked out together, your bag slung over his shoulder as you laced your fingers together. “on my defense, ya just started the pills and i was popping my raw dogging virginity and ya kept wearing that stupid legging that was so sheer i could see ya panties. no, half of the time ya weren’t even wearing one. you seduced me. case closed.”

you stopped right by the entrance for players only. echoes of shoes and balls bouncing, crowd cheering were getting louder and louder. this is where you had to part ways. osamu looked down on you longingly. “i’m not complaining by the way,” he pulled you closer, “don’t stop seducing me, ‘kay?” he whispered, brushing your nose against his own. you pushed his cap off, nodding happily as you shared a kiss. his onigiri miya cap sat against your head backward. the bag exchanged hands. he fixed your collar, your body ached every time his fingers brushed the bruise he left between the neck and your shoulder.

that’s the setter he fallen head over heels for.

“okay, samu. don’t let omi knows that we fucked on his favourite chair at the shop, i don’t think tsumu could hold him down. i’m too pretty to be a widow.” he mouthed a silent okay before leaning down for one more kiss, for good luck, he would said but no more words needed to be said. he flicked your forehead playfully before pulling away, heading to the entrance to meet up with your family and his brother.

“fuck them up, y/n.”

“i always do.”

#writing: thirsts #writing: hq #osamu miya drabbles #osamu miya x y/n smut #osamu miya smut #osamu miya x y/n #osamu miya x you #osamu miya x reader #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x y/n smut #haikyuu drabble #haikyu smut #haikyu x y/n smut #hq imagines #hq x reader #hq x y/n

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viridescent-din · 1 year

Text

favorite food

you and joel discuss life before the outbreak, and he shares a bit more than you expected.

no warnings apply. just some very sweet (though melancholic) borderline domestic joel and reader bonding time <3

btw i am NOT sponsored by shipley’s do-nuts and shipley’s do-nuts: plz don’t sue me

“I think she’s finally out,” you quietly tell Joel. He turns in his sleeping bag, looking across the dying fire at Ellie’s sleeping form. He frowns, but not entirely in annoyance. You can see traces of affection etched into Joel’s face.

“First real meal in weeks. Makes sense she’d go right to sleep,” he says, then glances at you. “Good catch, by the way.” Warmth blooms in your chest at Joel’s approval. You shrug.

“I do feel kind of bad for that bunny, but...” you trail off, looking at Ellie once again.

“She’s more important,” Joel says, surprising you with the gentleness in his tone.

“Yeah,” you agree. The two of you are silent, the air suddenly seeming heavy. You know Joel feels this, too: the affection building in both of you for Ellie. You liked her from the start, but that fondness is becoming palpable. It’s the same for Joel, and you’re sure it’s harder for him to reconcile with. “Hey,” you say, trying to lighten the mood. “If you could have any meal in the world, what would it be? Like, what was your favorite food before all this?” Joel looks at you, brow set, and you realize how stupid you are for bringing up the world before it went to shit. But to your surprise, Joel doesn’t chastise you.

“C’mere,” he says, making room in his sleeping bag. You blink.

“What -”

“I’ll answer yer question,” Joel begins to exaggerate his drawl to get a smile out of you. You shake your head, looking at the ground. “But not from all the way over here. I don’t want to wake her up,” Joel glances one more time at Ellie. “She needs her sleep.” You nod, but still don’t move. Joel tilts his head back, gesturing for you to come closer. “I don’t bite.”

Before you can even stop the thought, it flashes through your mind. What if I want you to?

You shove the thought away, making your way to Joel. Your whole body is screaming at you as you slip into his sleeping bag, red alerts of this is it! It’s happening! sounding in your brain. You try to ignore them. You lay on your side, facing Joel, and he does the same. You blink.

“Warm enough?” He asks, practically whispering. You just nod. “Good.” Joel lets out a long sigh. “My favorite food... Well, I can’t remember the last time I ate it, because I was Atkins when this all happened -”

“Wait, what?” You ask, interrupting Joel. “You were on Atkins? You?”

“Now what’s so hard to believe about that?” Joel counters, borderline offended. You let out a short laugh.

“Nothing, I guess, I just... I can’t imagine you caring about that sort of thing.” You leave out the fact that you think Joel is the most handsome man you’ve seen.

“Diets could be for health you know.”

“From what I’ve heard, that one wasn’t.” Joel lets out a chuckle.

“No, I suppose it wasn’t.” He concedes. “Anyway,” he continues. “Texas was one of the states with Shipley’s Do-Nuts. If I remember correctly, the headquarters was somewhere out there.” You listen intently. Joel’s eyes aren’t focused on you, though you can barely tell. The only light is coming from the dying fire. “Every so often, I’d get a coffee, a kolache, and two donuts. See, I’d always hide the second donut from Sarah. She’d start to eat hers, then run away to watch her show, or grab her journal or something - and when she’d come back, I’d of eaten half of it. And she would grumble, saying I had my kolache, and it wasn’t fair for me to eat half of her donut because she didn’t like kolaches, so she couldn’t eat half mine. And every time, I’d pull the second donut out of the cupboard. She knew I’d do that. But she always grumbled anyway, because that was just... it was just...” Joel trails off. “It was just part of what we did.”

You don’t say anything. Joel looks distant, like he’s not entirely here with you. You take a breath.

“Sarah was your daughter, wasn’t she?” You ask carefully, not wanting to press him. Joel tenses.

“She - I always drank my coffee black. But I’d order it with cream from Shipley’s, because it came in these tiny little containers. Sarah loved to pour the cream in for me. So I’d always drink it with cream from there, just because she liked to do that for me.” Joel knits his eyebrows, snapping out of his memories. You watch as he hardens himself, slipping back into the guarded man you know better than the one who just told you about Sarah. You expect Joel to get upset, kick you out of his sleeping bag. But he doesn’t.

“Was she - yes. Smart girl,” he tells you. You shiver at the praise. Joel frowns. “You cold?” You shake your head.

“No,” you say it like you’re telling him a secret. Joel softens.

“Alright,” he murmurs. You curl into yourself. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I -”

“It’s okay.” You don’t let Joel doubt himself anymore than he already does. “I don’t mind.” Joel seems uncomfortable, antsy with the fact he just revealed so much. You swallow. “I don’t remember much from before. I was on a plane when it all happened. And my mom was sort of a health nut, so she packed fruit. I was eating an orange instead of the pretzels the flight attendants handed out. That was how it happened, wasn’t it? The grains.” Joel nods. You continue, hoping hearing about your experience helps Joel with the fact you now know something about his. “My parents didn’t make it off the flight. I don’t know how they managed to keep me safe, but... they did.”

“Did you have any siblings?” Joel asks, a slight rasp to his voice. You meet his eyes.

“My mom had just had a baby,” you tell him. “I was... I was so excited to be an older sibling. I even asked to name it. If I recall correctly, I wanted Cinderella if it was a girl and Prince Charming if it was a boy.” Joel lets out chuckle. You smile at the memory too. The laughter dies down.

“Which was it?” You clench your fists.

“I, um, I don’t remember.” You bite your tongue, tasting blood. You let out a bitter laugh. “Isn’t that fucked up? I don’t remember.” You’re both silent.

“Your,” Joel clears his throat. “Your parents are lucky.” You look at him incredulously, almost glaring. “They are. They managed to save you. That’s all a parent wants: to protect their kid. And your folks did that.”

All a parent wants is to protect their kid. You poke your head out of the sleeping bag, looking at Ellie. The fire is gone now, but you can still make out her form. She’s still sleeping, and safe. You burrow back into Joel’s bag.

“Yeah,” you agree. “I guess so.” Joel’s hands slide over your waist, pulling your back to his chest. He’s so sturdy, emanating warmth. He moves his arm under your head, giving you a pillow of sorts.

“Go to sleep,” he says. “I’ll take first watch.”

“But -”

“I’ll take first watch,” Joel is firm. “I won’t be sleeping tonight, darlin.’”

If Joel wasn’t holding you so tight, you’d be afraid that he’s angry. But instead of shutting you out, he presses his lips to your temple, and tells you he’ll see you in the morning. When you close your eyes, you dream of coffee and donuts.

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oliviawebsite · 28 days

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you really do get famous in music by being as mid and bland as you possibly can be. but you have to pretend its novel. and aesthetic and coquette and vibes and crazy but still comfy and warmcore and sexy but also pure and wholesome but its also about mental health too wow and it has to have a part that people can dance to on tiktok you have to make a reference to a current event so people now you are withit everything you do has to be a response and if its not a response it needs to be seeking responses and blog posts and articles and interviews and thinkpieces you have to be nothing your answers are an amalglam of comments ur advisors read on instagram. coffee is so cunt and charcuterie is my life right now. ive been really into watching the sopranos lately.

my newest album is a bold step away from the old, this time its about how sometimes i cry if i burn my dinner and how pickle jars are just too hard to open sometimes. im just like you. youre just like me. we will never be each other and forever strive to become each other.

i worked out a deal that counts the sale of every lime lacroix 12 pack as an album sale to boost chart position. im hosting an instagram live where you can ask me about my favorite starbucks order sponsored by starbucks. my album has an interlude that gives you 20% off your first month of hellofresh. this single is brought to you by betterhelp

#sorry im in an odd mood and struggling to articulate my frustrations with music industry #so have a frustrating wall of stream of consciousness text

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darth-mortem · 3 months

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This is a fifth chapter of my COD fic "At the Crossroads of the Worlds" translated by @g8se.

Task force "141" was sent to clean up a secret laboratory, the research of which was financed by states recognized as sponsors of terrorism. The soldiers broke into a bunker located in the Caucasus Mountains on the Russian-Georgian border. At first, everything went according to plan, but after the fighters split up, Ghost came across a strange room, the door of which locked automatically the moment he was inside. Without knowing it, Simon Riley had set off an experiment that had been brewing here for years, and now he would have to be very strong to finally return home.

First chapter | Second chapter | Third chapter | Fourth chapter

Chapter 5 of 6. 826 words (it's small, but important)

Past character death, angst, action, secret lab, experiment, parallel worlds

August 18, 2016. Temporary base of TF 141. Iran. Zagros Range. Coordinates classified. Experiment status: concluded. Subject has completed reverse transportation. Reality LW414/2016.

“So, when you woke up, he was already gone," Captain Price summed up, glancing at Lieutenant Riley, who nodded. "Well, I hope he made it home in one piece. Although I can't help but admit, I was somewhat hoping he'd stay. A soldier like him would be a nice addition to the 141.”

"And I never properly thanked him," Sergeant Sanderson shook his head. "He saved my life."

"I'm sure he knows everything you could say or do," Captain MacTavish spoke, his tone also tinged with sadness.

All four fell silent, sipping their coffee and puffing on cigarettes and cigars. Then Johnny got up, extinguished his cigarette, and left the room. Simon watched him go, stayed for a minute or so, then got up and followed suit, determined.

Roach glanced at the door, then turned back to Captain Price and tilted his head slightly to the side. The captain only shook his head, as if to say he had no idea what was going on, then got up, collected the cups, and carried them to the kitchen.

Simon found Johnny just where he had been talking to Ghost yesterday. MacTavish was hiding from the sun in the shadow of a shabby building, casually twirling a lighter in his hand, not in a hurry to light up. The lieutenant approached as quietly as ever but intentionally stepped on some debris to announce his presence.

"Oh, it's ye, Simon," Soap turned at the sound and smiled. "Well, I can ca' ye Ghost again. Ye dinnae like it when people use yer real name."

"I want to talk to you," the lieutenant said, ignoring MacTavish's remark. "There's something I need to tell you."

"I'm listening," Soap dropped the playful tone and looked at Ghost with some concern. "Is something wrong?"

The lieutenant took a deep breath and clenched Captain Riley's tags in his hand through his clothes. His resolve wavered, but he gathered his courage quickly, not wanting to back out completely, and blurted out:

"I like you!" Then, after a moment's thought, he added more softly, "Not as a commander or a fellow soldier, but... differently."

"I like ye too," Johnny replied calmly, and a smile returned tae his lips. "Actually, I've liked ye for quite a while. I just dinnae want tae say anythin' because, well, ye know... ye're a bit... no yersel' lately. I dinnae want tae upset ye, ken?"

"Yeah," Simon nodded, then stepped closer.

MacTavish cautiously placed his hands on his waist and pulled him closer, ready to let go at any moment. Riley, however, didn't try to break free or resist. Quite the opposite, he wrapped his arms around Johnny's neck and looked into his eyes.

"Lift yer balaclava," Soap requested. "No all the way, if ye dinnae want tae. Jist a wee bit."

Ghost remembered his older double’s tale of struggling to trust and how much time he lost with his Johnny because of it; he remembered Captain Riley calling him beautiful. Anxiety clenched in his chest, his heart quickened its pace, but the lieutenant overcame himself once more, took hold of the edge of his balaclava, and pulled it up completely, tucking the piece of fabric into his pocket.

Johnny's eyes widened in surprise. Then he raised his hand and gently stroked Simon's scarred cheek before tenderly and passionately kissing him.

They didn't have time to savour this newfound connection between them. Captain Price received the information they had all been waiting for, and 141 began preparing for departure. The pilot double-checked all helicopter systems for the last time, the soldiers gathered and donned their gear, as well as what the mysterious visitor from another world had given them, who had managed to become a good friend to all of them. Sitting in the cargo hold and heading towards a new objective, which might lead them to Makarov and allow the soldiers to redeem their names, Gary brought up Captain Riley again. They exchanged a few words, and then Simon, holding the MX25 on his knees, spoke with sorrow in his voice:

“He helped all of us. It's just a shame we won't be able to do anything for him.”

“Hold on, Ghost," Captain Price objected. "We know that certain people and events in our world and his are identical. We know when his MacTavish died. We know where and when in his world that lab was built. So what if we can still help him, just not now, but later?”

“Later for us, but not for him!" Johnny caught on to the thought, rubbing his palms.

“2030?" Roach smiled. "Well, that's not too far off. We'll make it.”

“We have to make it," Riley said seriously and reached his hand downwards.

MacTavish covered it with his own, then Price and Sanderson joined in. Having sealed their promise, they settled in more comfortably and switched to discussing current affairs. A new battle awaited them, one they simply couldn't afford to lose.

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discotechque · 1 year

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oh, i think you’re standing on my left foot

pairing: jamie tartt/gn! reader word count: 915 warnings: allusions to nsfw requested: no

establishing myself as a ted lasso fan and s2 jamie tartt ... i miss you and your mess!!!

if there's one thing you learned during your time tethered with jamie is that there are no good relationships, only boring ones.

Jamie watches you like prey. It’s the only real way to subtly attract what he wants. Lingering glances, a trailing hand, circling around your frame. To be wanted is to be hunted, you've learned that he is not interested in things that don't give chase.

It's a motivation, after all, a purpose that keeps your relationship relatively stable. You are caught within his bite, punctured right through your chest and stiches slowly pulling apart. He sews them back up through fleeting meaningless affection. If neither of you had that, this would have surely failed long ago.

So, you're not particularly bothered at his sudden departure from Richmond to Manchester. His physical presence comes without attachments and dialogue is exchanged through some messages. His appearance on a dating show wasn't anything of note. There's not enough shame in him to weigh a full ounce an even that description is grossly generous. You didn't mind him crawling back into your lap after his status had been stripped for him and he was a liability only you could handle.

You are not jaded by his worst qualities, it's something you've learned to embrace over short moments. Realistic is a term that sits well as coffee pours from his sponsored Keurig. It already looks dent and worn despite being a newer model, obvious marks of his most epic battle of configuring basic technology. The machine spurred to life only after a second and doesn't even fill your cup halfway. It's a shame because Jaime only buys shitty holiday creamers, lured by their supposed seasonal exclusivity.

He's forced you to bring your own, the splash of French vanilla hardly does anything to increase volume. Imposed domesticity, is there anything more romantic than that? Some would argue that's all this arrangement is.

"You're up early, eh?" His voice doesn't spark your attention.

The patting of his feet trickles alongside him as he treks downstairs. This house is fraught with empty crevices that echo any sound that grazes their walls. The sound of a spoon swilling in your cup is deafening, it's somewhere around seven in the morning. Jaime doesn't keep any clocks near him—your guess is purely intuitive, and this attempt of an early departure has gone unnoticed.

His arm slips past your waist and plants itself against the marble counter, a chaste kiss pressed against your collarbone follows in quick succession. He's nothing if not a man composed of unrecognized rhythm. "Gettin' real sick of me already?"

His canines lightly dig into your shoulder, teasing teeth marks that will somehow inevitably find themselves in planned positions later on. Jaime takes time with his hunt, what he's struck down is his alone. You don't altogether mind the implications of it.

His bare pelvis grazes against your backside but he's still soft. The grasp he's kept on your waist is tender alike to his tone. He's reeling you in for more. "Don't ask stupid questions. Your sudden modesty isn't doing you any favors."

Modesty is an exaggeration. If you hadn't chosen dramatics, you would have settled on slim dignity.

His hair tickles the back of your neck, face resting against the dip in your shoulder. "Least, I didn' beg you to stay. What an absolute sad sack of shit I would be." He would have done so though; you don't dare to say it out loud. Instead, a complacent grin rises upon your lips as you turn within his hold.

He would've stuttered through some messy halfhearted apology that only concerned itself with fibs if you hadn't taken him back after everything. You wonder if he would've resorted to some insincere confession. I really like you; the words would be chewed out into sticky syllables, molasses coating each one.

The thought would be so amusing if you didn't know that in another life, it would be true.

"The day Jamie Tartt has to beg to get his way will be when hell in unleashed."

Your hands languidly wrap around his neck, fingers loosing connecting near his upper back. Scratching a trail along his clothed spine and he hums in affirmation. Jaime shuts his eyes, keeping his hands on you and shallowly swaying.

"D'ya always have to speak so melodramatic?" Unsubtly, his grasp manages to travel down your waist. Small squeezes encouraging you to find a seat on his marble countertops. "Nothin' like oh yeah, Jamie, I think ya so smart and I want your cock."

His suggestions are something you often resist at first.

"You ever hear me say cock in this lifetime and I want you to hire a militia firing squad to go at me. Promise me that."

His first curls up nearly your shoulder, it's gone through a hesitantly travel you've only been acutely aware of. There's an instinct for Jamie to cup your face, you can sense his conflict over such an insignificant action. "I'm not good on promises, love."

"Yeah," his calloused fingers return to dig into your thighs. They aide you in finding some purchase on the cramped enclosure. In the meanwhile, you trail light pecks along his jaw. "I'm aware."

He wants you this morning, roaming down the length of your frame with precision. Just like he did last night and just like all the other nights where you'll stumble into his home with him half bruised. Somehow, he's been made the epitome of temptation in your eyes. You don't think prey often wish to be devoured.

It doesn't matter. You'll indulge him this once.

#obbbbsessed with jamie cause he's an asshole and that's what makes him stand out and his humility has made him average as a result #idk i feel like i am the person who loves writing a good situationship or realistic outcome compared to most writers #ITS COMPELLING ITS GOOD HES THE MAN WHOS KINDA YOUR BOYFRIEND BUT YOU HAVENT WENT ON A DATE WITH HIM #ted lasso x reader #jamie tartt X reader #ted lasso #jamie tartt

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isaacswhy · 11 months

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surprise

softwilly x gn!reader (sfw) summary: nick comes home a day early from his business trip and surprises you. a little bit of "missing my bf" angst requested?: no

Life without the boys around the house was hard. It was a planned thing, so you knew well in advance, but it still sucked one way or another. You lived with Nick, your boyfriend, and his content creator friends in their group house in Austin. It was a hard adjustment from when you moved with Nick from his hometown in New Jersey, but a welcome one. You got to become close friends with each and every member of the household, loving your new roommates.

However, they'd leave about once a month. Conventions, sponsored trips, or just business calls that required them all to fly out across the country. No matter what it was, you were always left alone in that big house. You didn't mind the peace and quiet, but you truly just missed the comfort and company all the boys gave you, especially Nick.

They were out for a week, this time. In Los Angeles, a brand needed them to come out and do a business meeting to coordinate a new sponsorship. It was nothing new to you. Nick told you two weeks ahead of time, and when it came down to them driving out to the airport, you wistfully waved your goodbyes.

The week was spent inside, mostly. You had a computer in the guest room you'd play games on most of the day, stopping to use their little home gym setup in the garage for a brief workout, then you'd retire to Nick's room and sleep in his bed, in his clothes. It was the most you could do to not break down at the concept of him not being around.

Luckily, the air conditioning was just fixed, so you barely escaped the June heat. It beat down on the house hard, and was one of the main reasons you never escaped it. Only occasionally would you leave the house to go pick up food, a coffee, or maybe a trip to the swimming pool. Other than that, the house was your refuge.

By day six, you were worn down. It was hard to stay focused on any individual task and you found yourself laying in Nick's bed on your phone for hours in the morning. The hoodie you wore was losing Nick's smell, but you couldn't be bothered to change. It took a lot out of you even to take a shower the night before, but you managed it.

By the early afternoon you just sat on the couch in the living room catching up on an anime Nick had told you about. Things felt excessively dull and you could tune out your worries with a show in the background. The clock was about to strike four when suddenly, you heard keys in the door.

You whipped around to see the doorknob turning, the door opening as you tried to scramble to your feet. An intruder? A house of this size could merit it, but they had the key. All your questions melted away as soon as you watched a familiar man step inside.

Black hair, slightly grown out, in a tank top with a tattoo up his arm. Pierced ears and a big smile on his face as soon as he saw you. Nick. You flew into his arms.

"What the hell are you doing here?" You said, laughing out of sheer amazement.

"I came home a day early to see you!" Nick giddily responded, hugging you back tightly.

"Why? Don't you have to do a photo shoot today?" You broke from the hug and met his eyes.

Nick shrugged. "I stayed late yesterday to do the photos so I could fly out early. Are you watching Demon Slayer?"

You nodded. "Of course I am. You told me to watch it, right?"

"Yes the hell I did. Want me to order some food and get you caught up?"

"This is why I love you, Nick. Yes, a thousand times yes." You smiled and pressed a kiss to his lips.

You walked back to your blanket on the couch, slipping under it as your boyfriend pulled out his phone and ordered some food on DoorDash. He asked you what you wanted, and worked around your vague indecision. It wasn't long before he slipped on the other side of the couch with a blanket of his own, resuming your show. Of course, Nick had to make a few comments on where you were in the show and the things "you'd like".

Your food arrived not long after and the two of you spent the rest of the day watching shows. You were finally caught up, so you were satisfied with that day's work. Nick had to pull you up from the couch, walking together back to his room.

The two of you spent about an hour laying on Nick's bed catching up about the last week. He informed you the flight back to Austin would be around ten in the morning for the rest of the group, so you wouldn't see them until around one or two at the earliest, with the complications of airports and flight times.

Sleep came easy in Nick's arms that night. You yearned for his embrace for almost an entire week, and it coming early couldn't have made for a better night's sleep. You could die happy. You could spend all your days like that, in his arms and protected from the rest of the world. He was your everything.

The next day, you woke up cold. Nick wasn't next to you, and you frowned at the idea that he was gone. You were then greeted by another pleasant surprise of pancakes as you walked into the kitchen, your boyfriend giving you a wide grin, proud of his work. They were delicious.

It was a morning of shows, watching YouTube videos, and waiting for your roommates to arrive. It didn't take long for them to, around 2:25 they blundered into the house with carry-on bags galore. You assisted a few of them getting their things situated in their rooms, while Nick handled the few you didn't.

You carried Isaac's bag into his room, the last of the bunch you'd have to worry about. He had a suitcase in hand, but it didn't phase him. He was far too big and strong, for your standards.

"You didn't have to carry that," Isaac mentioned on your way to his room.

"Then why'd you ask me to?" Your eyebrows furrowed, "If you're so strong that you didn't need my help."

"The strong part is true, I'll give you that, but I thought I'd get a second away to talk."

"Oh. What is it?"

"Nick, he flew out early to see you." Isaac pursed his lips, clearly considering what his next words would hold. "I've never seen him so.. head over heels for someone, I guess. I've known him for years, and in the year you've been together, I've never seen him happier. Leaving us early to go be with you just solidified that fact in my head."

This shouldn't have shocked you, realistically, but it did. You'd known Nick for three years, but being with him blinded you to how he'd changed over the last year. To Isaac, he was outside looking in.

"Thanks for telling me that. I'd never thought about it in that way, I guess. I love him a lot. He does so much for me. Never in a million years did I think I'd be dating the guy I had a fat crush on in high school, living in a mansion in Texas." You explained.

"He truly loves you, too. He'd go to the ends of the earth for you, if it meant being together another five minutes, I'd say. Thanks for making my best friend happy, man."

You hugged Isaac briefly. "No problem. Anytime."

#softwilly x reader #the group chat x reader #tgc x reader #the group x reader #softwilly #isaacwhy #yumimain #yumi #larry croft #bigt #grunk #tgc #the group chat

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