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anestheticrage · 4 years

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Be me: Japanese honor student🎓, 15, with half a brain and even less of a plan. Hunting bitches by day and witches by night. Livin that dank only child✌️ life while mom n dad yeet all over the globe, leavin me plenty of time to forget not to make 2 lunches for myself #quirky 😜

no time for socialization or basic electronics skills ???📱??? when your best friends are an alien demon rabbit🐰👽 and the inexplicable Hole ™ in your brain. lmao, btw did i mention im ✨M✨A✨G✨I✨C✨A✨L✨

dreamin bout my 2D waifus again when familiar pink haired cancer patient dances through my brain passin out fliers: Kamihama Meguca Dating Service: Sponsored by Cult of the Magius. 250 stones per session 🤔

seems legit, Mr. Moneybags. wasn't spending my unwieldy sack of gemstones on anything else anyway. lets pull 💎💎💎

first up we have Redhead Radagast and her plethora of plants. 🌿☺️🦎

anndd, nearly dies immediately.

well not off to a great start but i guess shes pretty cute at lea- oh FUCK its her girlfriend, Tsundere Poseidon😒🔱💦, and their exasperated, straight and single Sword Mom 😔🗡️🔥. fml gonna have to save up for the next pull. might as well play a few rounds with what i got tho.

get in some good girl talk about things like school, color coded hair styles, body count, permanent soul damage, and our personal demon pacts. ya know, the usual 😚 . realize my dark backstory seems to be missing, so the girls take me to Ketchup Queen Sappho 🍅🥧 (wtf?) to molest my glowy egg stone. whatevs, more action than ive had since Kuroe 🖤 got added to the story anyway

the gang agrees it's time to hunt down the cutest rabbit pimp 🕶️🐇💵 in the city. >> say 🎵mukyuuu🎵 one more time and ill hug you so hard my backstory will pop right out, you adorable fluffy bastard. plz be my new best friend 💕

Form brand new friendship pact with Kyubae, and remember that my lil Sis 🐥 was always the best wingman for pickin up magic chicks, and kept her side of the room so spotless i forgot she existed. whoops 乁༼☯‿☯✿༽ㄏ Maybe if I find her i can stop paying these exorbitant pull fees.📵💎

speaking of which: hot damn this week's featured bachelorette is a 19 year old model and magical detective🔎 with massive levels of PTSD and self loathing 🥵💙💦 more likely to stab you or dramatically jump off a rooftoop than utter a single positive comment. wow, maybe i really COULD find true love…

... if i had MORE THAN A 1% FUCKING DRAW CHANCE. 😡 smh

hard to make much progress finding sis or winning the broken heart of a hard boiled detective amidst the never ending lover's quarrel of the Trident Vine Lesbians. 💔 Sword Mom tells them if they don't behave a monster will take them away. LOL classic mom 🤣

>>>HOLY FUCK IT DID

declare all-out war on urban legends, starting with staircases ⚔️ to reunite the dysfunctional trio, and hope that I net a way better lineup with the next 10x pull. at least sad sleuth lady came to help out. they say combat is the best way to bond wi- and there she goes off the rooftop again 🙄 fml

alright that got way off track, we need a fresh start, away from all the loli drama. how bout a little B&E🔓🔨🤷🏻‍♀️ at the local house of worship to clear my head. ahh nothing like the unanswered prayers of the masses to get you in the mood for another wasted pull, and the 🔥 MIGHTIEST 🔥 headache you could ask for with a side of Double Cooked Pork 🐖🍜 (meh 5/10🧾)

venture forth into the spiritual unknown with your new human flamethrower🔥🌻🧡 and ask your favorite private eye to please, for the love of Eve, trade Meguca accounts with me~~~ Head through the eastern spirit portal to meet up with hologram propaganda sis and detective crush's evil ex, who joined a dating-app cult (#fuck) and also turned into the moon?🌕?(that's rough buddy)

get ambushed by Acid Horse on Wheels 🌈🐴 and vomit up my soul so hard that its time for a crossover episode. T U R F F F W A R R R *que operatic harmonies* 💛 Blondie with the hair drills and enough attitude and guns to fill up a noble phantasm tries to ban my account permanently, but PI heartthrob denies her admin privileges. aww babe i didn't know you cared. 😭♥️

get kidnapped by my new true love and go back to her place 😏 defs enough empty rooms to house five emotionally traumatized girls and at least two ghosts hehehe👻 XD 💚🃏💜🎸 decide to form the anti-gossip brigade and recruit my blazing sunflower after getting ambushed by the witch living in my fruit loops🥣

❌outvoted 2:1 that cults are bad. mf. fiinneee one last pull to round out the team and then I'll delete the app. cmonnn Karin 🎃~

OH HELL YEAH TWO FOR ONE.

Always wanted a daughter 💜🔨🐄 with a penchant for pissing off the local Martial Arts & Books Club and drinking suspicious liquids offered by total strangers. Well if it's good enough for her AND the sexy mayadere with enough game to seduce a mermaid, might as well get in on that myself.

#curseddrank 🤢 0/24 would not recommend to a friend, 'cept maybe Ria

win alot of cash 🤑, blow up a fountain, meet the pied piper²🎶🖕, moon cult, monochrome feathers, something about liberation✊🏻; adopt temper tantrum cow girl. aces 💜🥩

Next up!!! skydiving with DJ Hammer! Jump to apparently-not-certain death after suicidal A.I. 💚💾🗼 tells you to rescue her hostage before they run out of Radiohead albums and have to move on to Thom Yorke's solo discography. save the invisible shield kitten 💚👑😿 from happiness and get chased through the internet by the sexiest homicidal Paint Pallette 💚🎨😈 since Caravaggio. (apparently green is the color of the digital apocalypse. i’m deleting Kako from my friend's list)

that’s it, fuck this app. 250 stones 💎 per-life-threatening-experience is more than i’m willing to deal with 😓 don’t wanna mess with the perfect nuclear family anyway. we've already got:

✔️the two emotionally traumatized moms with memory and commitment issues

✔️the adhd daughter with anger management problems and a giant hammer

✔️the psychologically abused scizophrenic cat

✔️and the eccentric aunt with crippling anxiety

#squadgoals

now that were done hoarding bitches, its time to hunt the witches. and the bitches makin the witches. btw did i mention the witches ARE the bitches! AND WERE ALL GOING TO DIE!? 📽️⁉️💀 wait fuck lets back up a second

This is Nemo📕 and Token🧪 and they have all the answers but prefer if you only ask vague questions in exchange for vague responses so they can fill in the rest by discussing their superior intellect 🧠 at length. not to mention they built that dating app, so of course everyone in my harem decides to be a FUCKING. TRAITOR.🤬

cept waifu prime ofc 🥰💙. [PTSD > brainwashing] 'yOu CaN bE tHe LeAdEr NoW'. i have been from the very beginning you traumatized Hinedere nightmare. maybe if you weren't so caught up collecting surrogate daughters you would've noticed IM👏THE👏ONLY👏 ONE👏PROGRESSING👏THE FUCKING👏PLOT✨

rescue the rest of dysfunctional found-family™ from selves before my adorable firebender burns down Disnihama🎡🔥😱 during her weekly anxiety attack. (love the makeover T B H)

CHAPTER 8: Magical Girl Massacre🩸🗡️

- everyone has like, the shittiest day ever

- the new Pope really needs to be extradited from the church

- make friends with a really pretty tree 🌺🌲✨

i swear, if i don't finish this god damn story in time to get that free pull im gonna beat the shit out of every mirror i find in that giant mansion that i haven't even had any time to even mention yet. 🖕🏚️ let alone EVERYTHING happening with the prequel [fuck you, I'm the star] girls 💗💜💙💛❤️️ and their multidimensional melodrama. We don't need that many repetitive af episodes to emphasize that Homo-ra is a shitty person. we've all seen Rebellion. 🙄

NO, I DONT CARE IF YOU WANT SAPPHO'S BACKSTORY, I ONLY HAVE 79 STONES LEFT AND IF YACHAN FINDS OUT I HAVEN'T DELETED THE APP YET IM GONNA HAVE TO GO SLEEP IN WITH SANA 😭💎💸😠

uhhhggggg where were we… Topple a cult and burn down Hotel Denoument only to realize that Sis was fused with the dating app servers this entire madokafuckin time (told ya she was the best wingman 😊).

Dilemma: Sis =🥚, Triumvirate of Trouble want 🐣. What do? vote now:

Help Hatch - IIIIIII

Not Do That - IIIII

What The Actual Fuck Is Going On - IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Lets just fight everyone until something good happens.

🔥🔫🔥🗡️🔥😱🔥🌆🔥😱🔥🛡️🔥💣🔥

Kill (???) the artist-in-chief of the italian reindeer murder police after teaching her the true meaning of Christmas 🎄 hatch 🐣lil Sis and realize she WAS your wingman all along🐰 MUKYUUUU! we're just gonna ignore how much trouble it would have saved if you'd just mentioned that. "yOu DiDnT aSk..."

FUCK YOU SPACE BITCH. ONCE AN INCUBATOR ALWAYS AN INCUBATOR 🖕🐇🔪

anywho, somewhere along the lines we of course summoned the Antichrist ⚙️ because why not raise the stakes to max and still not kill off a single character. Madofuckinkami, can we PLEASE wrap this up. 😩💤

feathers (not the culty kind, tfm) rain from the sky, and the power of friendship and not having the Urobutcher 🔪🩸as a lead writer saves our peacefully sectioned off alternate reality 😇

TL:DR fuck cults, real life waifus DO exist, don't sell your soul to space rabbits, or your stones to megacorporations. Enjoy arc 2 on the JP server with your shitty translation patch you filthy fuckin weebs

Yours Truly,

- Thirsty Weeb Eroha 💗💎😘

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asphalt-cocktail · 5 years

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For the Sake of Content- Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Sex Money

Summary: After walking in on your long-term boyfriend, Harrison, cheating on you and then losing your job the following day; your find yourself broke, jobless, and single for the first time in a long while. In order to make ends meet, your best friend since college, Freddie, suggests you start soliciting explicit photos of yourself, not only to help boost your confidence but to help pay the rent for his band mate’s apartment you just moved into.

A/N: ALL RIGHTY CUTIES!! This is where the story starts to pick up! I might take a little break in writing because the next chapter has literally taken me a week and a half to write up because I just can not get it right and I want to work ahead for when the semester begins to pick up. Anyways, I hope you all enjoy this newest chapter! As always I really appreciate and read every comment I get on this, and love all the likes, reblogs, and asks i have been getting!

Pairing: Roger Taylor x F!Reader

Warnings: Language, mentions of sex work, cam sex, mutual masturbation, masturbation, sexual tension, some friendly banter between roger and reader, slight arguing, maybe some slut shaming, not proof read, shit is getting juicy.

Word Count: 2.4k

Today was the day.

After heavy deliberation and a lot of working around schedules you and Mojo_Man had found a day and time that worked for the two of you. In the time it took to plan this whole ordeal you found that Mojo_Man, whoever he was, was pleasant to talk to and he even paid for a lifetime subscription to your Snapchat. The attention he had been giving you was nice to say the least.

You wore just a silky robe and sat strategically in front of your camera, only showing your shoulders on down. Your computer screen lit up with the call, you let it ring a few times before you answered, to make it look like you hadn’t been nervously waiting for this mystery man to call you.

When he answered, his room was darker than yours, only illuminated by a dull orange light in the corner of the room. You could make out the shape of his body, he was slim but looked like his body was secretly lean by the definition you could see in his arms. You couldn’t tell much more because like you, his face was also covered.

“Hey,” You said, shifting to sit on your knees, your thighs peaking through the gap in your dressing gown.

Mojo waved and the little typing icon popped up. ‘Sorry, no mic.’ He sent.

You couldn’t help but smile even though he couldn’t see it, waving your hand in a dismissive manor “’S okay.” You said casually, “So,” You dragged out the ‘o’ “Thank you for your generous gifts,” You shifted once more, purposefully slipping your robe down your shoulders “What do you want to do first?” You asked in a sensual manor.

Mojo Man sighed deeply as though he were in thought, ‘You can slip the rest of the robe off if you wanted.’ You felt heat spreading from the back of your neck to the tips of your ears at how polite he was. You found that typically men were very demanding and wanted to be in control, often ordering you around. But for once, it was nice to have a suggestion instead of a command.

You glanced down and undid the tie around your waist, opening the robe and sliding it down. The silky fabric pooled around your hips as your breasts became exposed for your one-man audience. You saw the slender man’s chest heave with arousal and felt a surge of pride swell through you. Your hand traveled down your chest, rubbing over the swell of your breasts and kneading them delicately in your hand before you moved down, pinching and rubbing your nipples between your thumb and pointer finger to get them erect. It didn’t take long before they hardened, your touch working in tandem with the cold.

You lifted your hips, sliding out of what remained of your robe and rubbed your hands along your thighs. The breath in the back of your throat hitched when you watched the stranger shift his camera ever so slightly down to expose his cock that lazily laid against his stomach. He stroked it in slow languid motions. You could see his chest rising and falling as he began to get more erect in his hand.

A soft moan left your mouth at the sight. God a stranger’s dick shouldn’t have been this arousing to you, but here you were.

Your legs instinctively spread apart exposing yourself to him and you dipped your finger between your fold. Grinding it in circular motions around your clit in an attempted to match his pace. Your hips bucked against your hand’s slow teasing pace and your eyes remained locked on the internet man’s dick and his hand firmly gripping his now fully erect member.

You whimpered, picking your pace up and now strumming your self rapidly, throwing your head back with a breathy moan, “Come on, baby I wanna hear you.” You sensually said. You hadn’t even thought of the words before they left your mouth.

Mojo’s hand faltered a moment before his free hand typed out a message to you, ‘I don’t know.. I don’t want my roommate to hear.’ You couldn’t help but smirk, thinking of the unsuspecting Roger who could walk into the apartment at any moment or walk into your room at any moment and see you fingering yourself for some stranger.

“It’s okay, I’m sure they wont mind.” you said slowing your strumming yourself and watched as the little crossed out microphone icon became bolded. A shiver of anticipation ran through you as you watched the mystery man once again, tightly grip his hard cock and pump it in his hand. He let out a shaky breath and you felt your face heating up at the sound. His voice was soft with a hidden roughness behind it that made your tummy tingle, “Come on, baby, let me hear you.” You said moving against yourself with more vigor.

The internet stranger’s jerking pumps matched your pace and your slightly staticky voices mingled together and filled both yours and his room. The slender man’s hips bucked against his hand as the two of continued to watch each other get off.

“Fuck,” You abruptly hissed out, your fingers buried deep inside you, hitting all the right spots “Can… can I come please?” the words slipped out of you mouth with little thought.

A short laugh bubbled from the man’s chest, “Not yet, baby.” You could tell his jaw was clenched tightly from how he spoke.

Your eyes fluttered shut and you tipped your head back trying to picture his face. Darker blonde hair, that was confirmed by the light dusting of chest hair he had, and blue? No. Green eyes.

He choked out a desperate sigh, “Shit,” he grunted, thrusting hard into his hand, “I’d love to see that ass of yours bouncing on my cock.”

Your walls clenched at his words, he could see it from the angle of his camera, and you let out a high-pitched sigh in response. The closer he got the more vocal he was. You loved every vulgar word that fell like syrup from his lips.

But there was something so familiar about his voice that caused your mind to spin. Your fogged over lust filled brain could barely comprehend what was going on after being on edge from your release for so long. It was as though your toes danced on the ledge of a building and the threat of falling was hammering against your chest.

Suddenly your walls clenched, and you sobbed out, having to cover your mouth to stifle the noise while you rolled your hips against your fingers. The mystery man soon followed, shooting ropes of come onto his stomach, he sat for a moment to catch his breath “Be right back,” He mumbled before abruptly standing up and leaving his computer chair probably for some tissues.

The light flicked on in his room and you took in what little you could see in, the cluttered clothes on the floor, the messy bed spread that made it look as though he kicked it off every time he woke up. It was interesting to see into the lives of your clients.

He came back and his computer screen illuminated his now clothed chest. He was now wearing an old Jimi Hendrix shirt and you couldn’t help but smile- Roger had the same shirt, upon further inspection you saw that Roger also had the same bracelets and necklace your client wore too. Your stomach clenched with dread “Roger! You- you” you pointed an accusatory finger at the camera, not caring that it fell, exposing your face as you abruptly got up and struggled to find your words. A wave of confusion and rage washed over you, causing your orgasmic fog to dissipate immediately.

“[Y/N]?” Roger sounded just as confused as you felt “Oh, fuck.” He muttered to himself.

You threw your robe back on and stomped over to your door, ripping it open and meeting Roger half way down the hallway “How could you watch me masturbate!” You shouted at him, raising and flailing your arms in frustration.

“How was I supposed to know it was you masturbating!” He shouted back in an equally frustrated voice, “Fucking Christ.” He hastily ran a hand through his hair, “You spread your pussy for every bloke on the internet now? Is that how you pay for the rent, with-” He motioned between the two of you, blowing out a frustrated puff of air “With dirty sex money?”

Your mouth could have hit the floor if it was possible, “It’s none of your bloody business how I make my money! It’s Fred’s fault anyways, he suggested it!” Your brain vividly played Fred’s voice over and over again in your head before you pushed it aside to clear up more questions “You were the one that gave me the dirty sex money anyways!” you were on a roll now, “What the fuck kind of a name is Mojo Man anyways! You couldn’t have come up with something clever?”

Roger’s jaw gaped much like yours, his face riddled with disbelief, “I can’t help it I’m horny and want to pay for attention from girls!” Roger clenched his fists together in frustration and pushed past you, hastily slipping his shoes on, not even bothering to untie them and throwing on a leather jacket “It’s a Jimi Hendrix song, by the way.” He hissed, slamming your apartment door behind him causing the mirror in the hallway to slant.

You let out a frustrated noise, a cross between a growl and a groan and found your self pacing the hall, back and forth, back and forth while muttering to yourself like you’d gone mad. “Fucking hell! I can’t believe I wasn’t more careful, what am I? A fucking fool, that’s what you are.” You stopped yourself, realizing your solo conversation was making you look more insane than you had hoped. You raided the fridge, stealing several of Roger’s beers. He wouldn’t mind anyways, it wasn’t like the two of you had boundaries anymore after wanking in front of each other.

So, there you sat, on the couch, brooding, thinking, and drinking several beers. You hated to admit it, but the chemistry between you and Roger during your private session with him was hot, just thinking about it caused a clench in your gut that you couldn’t push away. You thought of ringing up Freddie for advice, but you could already hear the howling laughter that would rattle your ear drums, so you opted to continue thinking in silence. But still found your mind drifting back to his words, the rise and fall of his soft chest, and his soft gravely moans that would forever haunt your memory.

An idea crept into your brain, slinking against the shadows before it forced its way through and now had your full attention. You couldn’t shove it away and it echoed against your brain.

Ask Roger to help you with your content.

You’d seen it many times and heard girls talking about it on various forums and chatroom communities dedicated to sex work but never though you’d ever come across the opportunity yourself. Countless women had their spouses, partners, and even friends help with their content from time to time; they found that it helped provide a variety of things to post and proved to be an advantage.

You mulled it over a bit more, sipping on your cold beer. It would be nice to not have to take screen shots of videos you took of you doing various poses and there was the benefit of actually having sex. You hadn’t gotten any action from a real-life human being since Harrison and frankly, you’d forgotten what good sex was like and something told you that Roger would be able to help you remember.

The come down from your adrenaline high mixed with the beer and soon put you to sleep on the couch. Only waking up to Roger roughly shaking you. He reeked of cigarettes, you scrunched your nose up and could tell he’d taken a walk outside to chain smoke and think. It was a stress habit you’d noticed in your few months of living with him.

You blinked one blurry eye at him, your vision clearing and noted the soft, almost sympathetic gaze he’d cast down at you. You sat up, sitting sideways into the corner of the couch to offer him a seat which he graciously accepted, “I’m sorry for calling your money dirty sex money.” Roger mumbled, his face flushed with embarrassment.

You cleared the sleep from your throat “I’m sorry for making fun of your username.” You mumbled in the same apologetic tone. You turned your body towards him and let out a nervous cough, just enough to force his gaze in your direction, “I… um… I wanted-” you inhaled and exhaled deeply before you started over again to gather your thoughts “Do you want to help me?”

Roger jumped at the volume of your voice and you mumbled a soft ‘sorry’ before looking back at him. His face was riddled with confusion, “What?” He asked quirking his head to the side.

“You know, filming and content and stuff.” You couldn’t bare to look at him any longer, the conversation was almost painful making it easy to avert your gaze.

Roger cleared his throat and tried to act casual, but he was almost as uncomfortable as you, “Would… would I get a part of the profit?” He asked, sneaking a side glance at you.

You honestly hadn’t even though of that. “80/20” That was the first number that popped up into your mind.

Roger scoffed, “50/50” he argued back, “If my dicks going to be on display, I want half.”

You found yourself frowning deeply “70/30 and I won’t hide my face anymore, but you can.”

Roger hummed, you didn’t know if he was actually in deep thought or just mocking you, “Fine, but we also get to fuck without cameras too, and I want the first time we hook up to just be natural, no cameras.” He crossed his arms over his chest “Got to make sure it’s worth my time.” He made sure to add.

You rolled your eyes at his back handed comment, “You talk a big game, bet you’ll be the disappointing one.” You knew it was a lie the moment you said it. But you would never admit it.

#roger taylor x reader #roger taylor smut #roger taylor series #roger taylor imagine #ben hardy!roger x reader #ben hardy!roger taylor #ben hardy!roger taylor x reader #queen x reader #queen smut #queen series #FSC Fic #reader insert #borhap #borhap blurb #borhap fanfic #roger taylor fanfic #queen fanfic #borhap fandom

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daredevilexchange · 4 years

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Want to be featured here? Head to this page and fill in the form!

See what this is about here, or if you’re using the app here.

What's your fannish ID? Sholio on AO3 and DW (http://sholio.dreamwidth.org); I'm @sholiofic and @laylainalaska on Tumblr because Sholio was already taken. Sholio is the name of a character from an unfinished fantasy novel I worked on when I was a teenager.

What types of fanworks do you create? Fanfic mostly; I also make vids and fanart occasionally.

What are your favourite types of fanworks, when you're not creating? They're all so good! ;__; Fic, art, vids, gifs, etc ... I couldn't possibly choose. I have a longtime love of fic and vids, but I love how much easier it is to find art on Tumblr, and gifsets are a brand new Tumblr thing that I would have loved to have had in my old fandoms.

What do you like in particular about this fandom? I'm mostly in the Iron Fist corner of the fandom, and it's so sweet and nice! Everyone I've met in Defenders fandom has been really great. And people leave such sweet comments. Also, the Defenders' world is an incredibly fun world to play with in fic; it's a perfect blend of urban fantasy and noirish tropes, with wonderful characters who have very iddy-for-me personal relationships (iddyfic explained here!).

Do you like participating in fan events? I really enjoy doing exchanges and challenges, as well as writing for prompts that I'm given. Having a prompt or an assignment encourages me to try new things, and I really love writing fic for people. I also organize an Agent Carter-based exchange, @ssrconfidential on Tumblr and https://ssrconfidential.dreamwidth.org/ on DW !

What about your creating process? Well, first of all I actually am a full-time writer (I write romance novels for a living), so I have an office setup for writing with a laptop and desk. I usually write profic in the morning and fanfic in the evening/late at night, but sometimes I trade off days, especially when I'm working on a long fic for an exchange. I do like to listen to music while I work, and I also have an internet blocker which is very helpful for getting me to write in half-hour or hour-long blocks.

Do you interact a lot with other fans? I do! I was in fandom long before I started making a living as a writer, and most of my friends are people I've made through fandom. Wherever I'm in fandom, I probably will be chatting with people. I think this is one reason why I tend to stay on old fandom platforms like DW as long as other people are there to talk to - because my friends are there! I would have a hard time pulling up stakes and moving away from any fandom entirely.

Is there any particular piece you'd like to showcase for this post? First of all, I'm going to link to my Misty/Colleen fic for Chocolate Box: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22597003 - because there isn't much longish femslash in this fandom, and I love the pairing and really enjoyed writing this fic, and I think it could use more readers! As far as probably the project in this fandom I'm having the most fun with, there's this long post-canon Iron Fist series about Danny and Ward's road trip (it's 86K now, WHAT EVEN): https://archiveofourown.org/series/1232444 And the single fic in the fandom that I'm perhaps the most proud of is this one I wrote for Yuletide in which Frank Castle is blinded and deafened and must rescue a bunch of people anyway, because it was such a challenge to write his POV in a situation like that, and I'm very happy with how it came out: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17008611

Do you have other fandoms you'd like to talk about? I've been in fandom since the late 90s, so I have a lot of other fandoms! In the past I was most active in (among others) Stargate, White Collar, and various anime fandoms. Right now, in addition to Defenders, I'm also in Agent Carter and a few others - I drift in and out of the MCU and Stranger Things, for example, and I just fell back into Torchwood. I think what draws me most is ensemble casts with lots of interesting interpersonal relationships to play with.

Where can your fanworks be found? https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sholio (my main fic archive) and https://sholiofic.tumblr.com/ (fic blog; I'm often open for prompts; check the top of my sholiofic blog to see if I'm currently taking them!)

Thank you, @sholiofic !

banner by @context-is-for-kingpins !

[ID on a white background, four black triangles that look like spotlights from above. Each illuminates one of the Defenders silhouetted in white: Jessica, Luke, Danny, Matt. A hand on the left is holding a pen writing the words Content Creator Spotlight. There is a little Punisher skull on the pen. End ID]

#iron fist #defenders #the defenders #marvel #the punisher #daredevil #content creator spotlight

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secretgamergirl · 4 years

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Hate Mobs Gotta Go

Last night, I did something I have never expected to do, and just full on gave up on a fun RPG writing assignment. Which I had to do because I hit a point where it was so overdue and unfinished that I was falling asleep sitting up and stress vomiting and other such things. There’s a whole lot of factors behind that. Other health issues, the toll of being on total pandemic lockdown for months, with neighbors just straight up open mouth coughing at my door, emergencies with friends and family, multiple fires and hardware failures, but the main thing was, and still is, the constant harassment from a militant hate mob, completely out of touch with reality.

Years ago, I remember there was this thing the internet at large was fond of doing with foaming at the mouth far right religious extremists- Mercilessly ridiculing them in public to expose how disconnected everything they said or did was from reality. Remember seeing this one float around and laughing your head off?

And if I mention the Westboro Baptist Church, you immediately picture a single family of raving bigots picketing funerals and such with their big homophobic signs, with a bigger crowd mocking them, right?

For some reason, the modern version of that particular flavor of fringe weirdo doesn’t get that sort of ridicule. Presumably because they’re focusing almost exclusively on trans people, and most people have this weird thing where like if you stick up for trans people you get cooties or something and never dig into the real juicy ridicule fodder. But for real, this stuff is OUT THERE. Just look at a few examples here.

Come for the weird ravings about harvesting baby organs. Stay for the... adult woman who apparently believes breasts get their shape from actually being sacks filled with milk under women’s skin? Now, how about this colorful comparison?

For anyone who wasn’t aware, pronouns are words like “I” “you” “he” “she” “it” and “this,” while rohypnol is colloquially known as “the date rape drug,” so this is utter gibberish. The full context of course is that this person is trying to make the argument that forcing this bigot to refer to women she’s prejudiced against as “she” instead of arbitrarily tossing around “he” or “it” is... raping her brain, I guess?

So... this is pretty clearly some creep’s weird little fantasy. The obvious giveaway is pretending that trans women “aren’t in the correct bathroom” when going to... the correct bathroom, and that the non-existent law about this is somehow enforced by... random bigots opting to deputize themselves. What DOES happen for real though is bigots like this being arrested for barging into public restroom stalls with camcorders aimed at the crotches of women on toilets and trying to defend themselves by insisting they have some duty to check what their genitals look like. On which note...

That’s just disgusting. It’s also as close as I feel comfortable to posting all the graphic fantasies I see from these people about the barbaric genital mutilation they imagine trans women subject ourselves to which really has no basis at all in reality. Well maybe I can post this one.

I’m not going to go through and itemize all the baldfaced lies in that, because I really kinda hope I don’t have to, and also because the person who slapped this together was kind enough to break it up in such a way that I legitimately can say “every single line of this is a completely baseless lie.” Also the art in the corner is stolen from a child-friendly comic whose author is trans, so, that’s extra slimy. Also wow that “bone scans” bit is actually one I’ve never seen. Where the hell do they even get these ideas?

Also this one needs some setup. If you have time, this right here is a freaking journey, if not, I’ll try to summarize.

So a while ago, this one particular unhinged bigot decided the most productive way to spend all her time was to get in touch with a bulk sticker printing business and order thousands if not millions of these weird gross poorly framed slabs with a really crude drawing of a penis and bunch of gibberish she really wishes were the names of popular twitter hashtags that nobody else but her ever uses. And then after receiving these, just... wandering around the city she lives in all day every day plastering them on phone booths and power poles and the mirrors of bathrooms in like.. elementary schools and park benches, just everywhere. And then makes multiple passes a day apparently to make sure nobody has tried to remove any of them, as detailed in this amazing thread I’ll link again.

So the latest break in that particular saga is that same zealot going around plastering stickers like this around too, to make it seem like “both sides do it.”

It should be obvious that that’s a “blacks rule!” sort of fake between the baffling text and using the extra inclusive, particular emphasis on supporting people of color, general purpose LGBT+ flag, but also, like their fellows on 4chan, they plan this sort of “false flag” crap in broad daylight:

I should really properly credit the whistle-blowing on that particular oddity, and I should also note that aside from the breast milk sacks, this is all just stuff I saw TODAY catching up on my twitter feed, but my main point with all this is to illustrate that we really are dealing with Jack Chick/Westboro Baptist-level unhinged zealotry... but again, nobody’s out there pointing and laughing. And it turns out, when you don’t have people pointing and laughing at this sort of thing, you get people taking it seriously. So... when I went to quickly search for a news story to link with the bit about creeps barging in on women with cameras, the results I got were... this.

That... sure is a lot of stories about totally innocent people in a demographic I belong to being murdered by total strangers goaded into blind murderous hatred by the sort of people I’m pointing and laughing at! Ha ha! There’s a very real chance of that happening to me every time I step outside, for any reason! Tee hee! I live in a state of constant fear! Whoopsie!

And it’s not just stuff like that. The people posting these rambling tirades about “breast milk sack implants” and putting crude penis stickers everywhere, never being called out as the unhinged weirdos they are, either have the world turning a blind eye to all this crap, or have everything they do downplayed in the media to the point where outright sexual harassment, doxing, and slurs I don’t want to repeat get headlines like “so-and-so made comments that some fringe trans activists on the internet deem ‘possibly transphobic’” and that’s AT BEST. More often you get stuff like the one incident I managed to bring a lot of public attention to way back when, where some bigot just literally walked up to someone on the street, grabbed them, savagely beat the hell out of them until pulled apart, had friends film the whole thing, and bragged after the fact about it, and every story that appeared as a result claimed the assailant was the victim, because they were all written by her friends.

Face obscuring provided by me here, by the way.

And that isn’t a one-off incident. Because, see, most of these unhinged weirdos spewing out all this transphobic gibberish are not, as you would think, a bunch of barely educated Trump hat wearing members of some fringe religious congregation. They’re editors and producers in major British news outlets. This isn’t me shouting conspiracy nonsense either, this is well-documented. Like, The Guardian gets public internal protests over this crap. So does the BBC. Yes, other respected news sites cover this. Media watchdog groups do their best to reign this in with hearings and such, but, don’t actually have any power to enforce anything really. So when there’s “reporting” on this crap, it’s coming directly from the “breast milk sack implant” people. Oh and here’s some screenshots of the headlines of those stories you’re too lazy to click through and actually read:

And of course, sometimes when they want to really come across as respectful, they try to find “scientists” and “doctors” who back up their ravings but all they have to fall back on are disgraced quacks who spend most of their time on activism work to normalize pedophilia.

I’m not bringing that point about Cantor up to discredit his writings about trans people by the way. He doesn’t really HAVE any writings about trans people. He just pasted the names of a bunch of random studies from the 70s about whether playing with barbies makes you gay into his blog a few years back and this crowd was so desperate for validation they declared him an “expert in the field” and started passing out links to his.... pro-pedophila blog. Which is part of this whole pattern, but I’ve written about that before. Oh and the governments of multiple countries manage to treat all these people as “experts” and make policy decisions based on their ravings. That’s fun.

Anyway, aside from encouraging random people to, you know, just randomly murder anyone they see who looks like maybe a trans woman, every so often this weird little cult pulls in an actual celebrity who then has a public meltdown as they post all this gibberish to a wider audience. Currently this is going on with Harry Potter author J.K. Rowling (who’s actively promoting the pedophile guy up there on Twitter), and I think also William Shatner, but I haven’t really looked into it. The last big one though was Graham Linehan. Who you might remember from co-writing some sitcoms that were popular decades ago in Britain, or from being the weird cartoon villain who tried to kill the funding of a children’s charity, prompting this strange pledge drive marathon of Donkey Kong Country.

You might also know him as one of... I think honestly just two people who have ever managed to be such out of control stalking hate mongers that they were actually given a permanent no possible appeal ban from Twitter. Personally though I know him more as, you know, that one absolute creep who’s been obsessively stalking me for like 5 years and never shutting up about his weird personal obsession with me.

I WOULD link the recent freaking filmed interview he did where he spent forever rambling about me, but I’d have to actually watch it to confirm I had the right link, and also the only place I could quickly find a link to it would be on his twitter feed, which as stated, no longer exists. Oh and random side note there, despite being personally, by name, the person he was explicitly targeting all his hateful ramblings at, he wasn’t banned from that site for any of the disgusting stuff he said to me. He just slipped up and mentioned a cis woman with a professorship while shouting about this crap recently and that caused people to actually take action. I do so love being invisible.

Anyway, point is, prior to Rowling grabbing the baton from him as his social media presence went up in flames, this guy was name-dropping me a LOT. Presumably he still is, just in places fewer people see it. And when you have as big an audience as he did, and that audience is as full of hatemongers as his was, that has a pretty noticeable effect. I’ve been deluged with so much hateful garbage for so long it’s impossible for me to put any numbers on it. The closest I can do to quantify it is note that hate dump was big enough that I was also flooded with more weird messages intended as support from total strangers than I could deal with, totally losing access to social media feeds and my e-mail from the volume for a good bit, and THAT flood was big enough that I got this whole second wave of creepy stalkers who’d built up this whole weird fanon where this stalker here is like, someone I used to date or be business partners with and not just some creepy dude like twice my age stalking me over the internet, from a completely different hemisphere.

And I mean... in the broadest of strokes, I can kinda laugh all this off. Because... these people are completely ridiculous, out of touch with reality, and mostly live in other countries. But... all the threats and shouting are very real and very constant and like.. picture someone outside on the street shouting at your windows about how they’re going to break in and kill you. You really can’t ignore that. Even if they’re unarmed, and all they’re really capable of doing is shouting and pounding on your door, you can’t really just ignore that shouting and pounding and just watch a movie or play a game or write this article you promised would be done 3 months ago. You can certainly try, but a pretty big part of your brain is going to be occupied with thoughts about how maybe you should call someone to see if they’ll escort this violent person away, or maybe you should barricade your door in case all that pounding does something.

And I mean this isn’t a bad metaphor for how all the constant threats and stalking I’m dealing with thanks to celebrity bigots personally obsessed with me impacts my life, but it also does a pretty good job of describing how my night went pretty recently when I ACTUALLY DID HAVE SOMEONE POUNDING ON MY ACTUAL REAL PHYSICAL DOOR SHOUTING ABOUT STABBING ME TO DEATH, and no, there was no resolution to that beyond the sound of sirens causing that person to back off.

I also had an experience not too long ago where I was supposed to take a cab to a routine appointment, a car showed up with the cab company’s name on it, somewhat early, and proceeded to drive me... out to the middle of the freaking woods like an hour from where I live, and when my phone rang with my actual cab asking where I was the driver freaked out, had me get out of the car, and took off leaving me just... stuck in the middle of nowhere freezing to death and trying to find a landmark an actual cab could pick me up from. Still don’t know what the hell that whole thing was about and whether a cab driver just REALLY didn’t know what he was doing and panicked or what, but I do know that talking about it publicly in the vaguest of terms lead to a bunch of unhinged shouting from... apparently some unconnected ride share driver with a habit of dumping trans women between stops when they try to get medications or something, convinced I was calling him out for that.

So.... yeah. Things aren’t exactly going great in my neck of the woods. I’d really appreciate it if people would properly treat these unhinged violent weirdos like unhinged violent weirdos and not respectable members of society so they quit getting so bold and public with the violent stuff, and people who listen to them get properly shouted down for doing so.

#transphobia #stalking

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donnerpartyofone · 5 years

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i just got a whole bunch of new followers on letterboxd, and checking out who they all are really reminded me of why i don’t follow too many people on letterboxd. bad amateur writing is hard to enjoy even ironically, but there’s something about bad film writing that’s really harmful. i have hate-read so many of this one guy’s reviews that i feel embarrassed about it now. he describes himself as an “arthouse manager”, which i assume means he runs a theater, but it bothers me because nobody says “let’s go out to the arthouse tonight” without the word “theater” in there, it’s just unnatural and pretentious. so that’s red flag #1 right in his description, which is followed by red flag #2 about how he hates modern media, as if being a luddite or nostalgia freak automatically means you’re a sensitive genius. it’s probably worth mentioning a sub-red flag, which is that he also says he’s 27 years old, which has to mean that he either wants to be congratulated for being precocious somehow, or he thinks he’s going to get laid off this movie website where you can’t even post pictures of yourself, or both, i mean who fucking cares how old you are anyway, for what reason? then the first review is of DAYS OF BEING WILD, in which he describes Wong Kar-Wai as “seeking to understand what draws women to shitty, emotionally unavailable men”; i mean imagine being so full of shit that you project your own sullen incel-y “UGH WHY DO GIRLS ONLY LIKE BLAHBLAHBLAHBLAH” garbage onto whatever revered works of art show up on your tv screen? this guy goes on to reveal himself in almost a strip tease fashion across many of his reviews, breaking up his pompous analyses with macho mindbenders like “i have often said that being horny is the point of life” and biographical information like about his manipulative alcoholic father. i’m not trying to say that everybody with a delinquent or dysfunctional parent is destined to have idiotic and serial killerish attitudes about intimacy, because that would condemn pretty much all of us. but, i am sadly familiar with solipsistic assholes who brandish their alleged intellectual superiority in one fist while beating the dust out of their childhood traumas with the other, and just seeing his smug letterboxd reviews tells me everything i need to know about him. hopefully he just followed me in a spammy way to get attention and will never interact, or maybe i’ll say something he finds politically disagreeable and he’ll go away.

honestly finding anybody worth following on letterboxd is kind of hard. it can be nice to read stuff by people who are just having fun and shooting straight about what they’re watching, but the site is filled with wannabe J Hobermans and Lester Bangses who are just out to prove that they own a thesaurus. they’re practically all dudes, you can smell the old spice and maker’s mark wafting out of your laptop fan when you read some of this chest-pounding nonsense. not all of them have such toxic things to say as the aforementioned douchebag, but there’s a real preponderance of users who seem to think they’re reinventing the language. the sad thing is when they really like MY writing. there’s this guy i follow who i think used to write fairly clearly, but now everything he posts looks like a burroughs cut-up with really avant garde ideas about punctuation and adjectives, and unfortunately, i think it’s on purpose. i’d unfollow him, but i feel like i can’t, because he is as nice as literally anyone has ever been about my writing. he goes so far as to give me a hard time about why i’m not a professional film critic, he’s like a ~fan~...and then i gotta ask myself, how much is my writing like HIS writing? this is where the difficulties of letterboxd start to feel worth while, in a masochistic kind of way. like, how often do i write in the same wanky bombastic fashion as these shitty little internet valedictorians who i hate so much? probably a lot! i don’t like feeling that way but i have to admit that i’m grateful for the opportunity to check myself, and possibly improve.

however good or bad i am, letterboxd is still a better place to write than tumblr. i mean tumblr is less than optimal for long form writing anyway, but it’s also a question of who the majority population is here. the other day i got a comment on a pretty old post i wrote about ANNIHILATION, a movie i found kind of smarmy and shallow. the commenter said that my points about the movie were good, BUT they would all be negated by the content of the novels on which the movie is based, and they wanted to know why i deliberately omitted this material from my analysis, as if this were a conspiracy to be unraveled. they actually asked me what the point of my post was, like what was my goal in writing only what i wrote and leaving all kinds of things out. basically. this person COULD NOT UNDERSTAND THE IDEA OF A MOVIE REVIEW. i answered them, because they had tried hard to be polite, that my movie review blog is just for movie reviews, in which i talk about what i think about movies i watch. i’m not pursuing everything related to certain intellectual properties, nor am i invested in the logic and content of Extended Universes of whatever individual movies i’m watching. i’m not mad at this person, who was asking an honest question, but i was completely dumbfounded by the question itself. i mean imagine being SO INVESTED in fandom as like a type of lifestyle that you don’t know what a movie review is anymore? like every piece of media is regarded as some sort of municipality, that belongs to a state, and is governed by certain people, and its characters are like Real People who are available for friendship, dating and more. no piece of media is just entertainment, or even an artistic statement anymore. for this person, watching a movie is something like studying civic infrastructure, except with more DIY alterations and more fetishizing of gay men. i keep trying to imagine reading three paragraphs about some middling hollywood movie that amounts to something like “i did not enjoy watching this film,” and just having no personal frame of reference AT ALL for what it means when somebody writes that down. like just not knowing what a movie review is at all, and asking the author to explain the meaning of the bizarre behavior of saying you thought some movie sucked.

why DOES anybody write about movies though? if i don’t find it normal or desirable to watch everything with an exclusive filter for who do you want to fuck and who do you want to see fucking each other, then what else am i getting at? surely i don’t see myself as a potential roger ebert or leonard maltin, especially considering the extremely limited number of celebrity film critics in the history of mankind. i’m also not Pro- the idea of sorting all movies according to some rigid standards of technical quality and deservingness, like anybody needs me to grade them after they’ve performed the nearly impossible-seeming task of even making one single movie to begin with. sometimes i stupidly start complaining about stupid responses to my writing that i get once in a while from the internet, and my shrink asks me, “what are you up to when you post this writing?” she always says i’m “up to something” when i seem to be following but willfully ignoring my subconscious drives, which i think is pretty funny. but i don’t think i’m pursuing feelings of superiority, over movies or other writers. i think i’m just trying to figure out what movies are trying to say about human existence--and they all are trying to say something, are motivated by some angst, even the really insulting ones that only offer up wish fulfillment pablum. i’m constantly trying and failing to figure out my own existence, and i must sense that attempting to decipher movies is one way of getting closer to decoding my own experiences.

and on that note, now i have to complain about the fact that Lyft’s driver rating system includes “fun conversation” as one of the four factors in giving someone five stars. i rarely want a stranger to try to force me to talk to them, especially at 4am when i’m headed to the airport under a miserable pile of luggage. even so, i recently got into a car in such a state, with a guy who was clearly going for that five star rating, babbling loudly and convulsively at me all the way to my terminal. it would be one thing if he were just trying to be nice, but he was giving me shit about everything from my pickup location to what i had done in his fair city for a week and a half. i did not immediately volunteer how many movies i had seen at the festival i attended, because i probably intuited that when he did make me tell him, he would inform me that he doesn’t need to watch movies, because “I WATCH *LIFE*, MAN!!!” the irony was that this guy clearly didn’t watch life at all; he didn’t even have the ability to discern that i didn’t want to talk, or that i didn’t want him to insult my favorite leisure activity, and that probably NOBODY wants to listen to him talk about his shitty generic blues rock band for half an hour before 5am. so that’s the one thing i can say for even the most obnoxious reviewer on letterboxd--that probably they are TRYING to hone the art of observation, a dying skill. probably they are TRYING to train themselves to be an active audience that engages thoughtfully with the movie instead of just hucking rotten tomatoes at the screen OR passively allowing it to wash over them. even if i often hate the results, at least some of these guys seem be making an effort.

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natasha-cole · 6 years

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Perfect Match Part 1: Looking for Love

Pairing: Rob Benedict x Reader

Warnings: mild swearing, fluff, hinted smut

Word Count: 3785

Square filled: holding hands

Summary: Reader has joined an online dating site to get herself out there, and to hopefully get over her crush on the man that she has no chance with. After a few matches, she finds that she has connected with one man in particular on very different levels compared to all her other matches. He could be the one. During a convention weekend, she decides to meet her mystery man for the first time; she just didn’t expect to already know him.

Notes: written for @spnfluffbingo. The idea came from @rblstrash, and I only changed the recommended square to fill because I think I can make this into a short miniseries using a couple of other squares.

“Who are you texting?” Briana asked as she stared at you.

“I’m not texting anyone.”

“Right,” she replied, obviously not believing you. “You’ve only been on your phone all night. Every time a notification comes through, you’re checking it with the biggest smile I’ve ever seen on your face.”

You smiled and averted her stare.

“Look, if I tell you something, will you promise not to make fun of me?”

“I would never make fun of you.”

“I joined this dating app a couple of months ago,” you admitted.

“A dating app?” Kim asked, perking up.

“Yeah, you know I’ve had a hard time with dating lately. I figured I’d give this a shot.”

“It that a good idea considering you’re a pretty famous actress?” Briana added. “I mean, any guy could easily pretend to be what he’s not online just to get in your pants.”

“I thought of that already,” you replied. “But, my sister helped me set it up so that no one would know it was me.”

“Isn’t that sort of misleading though?”

“It says in my profile that I’m looking for someone who wants to get to know me before they see me.”

You set your phone down on the table so that the girls could get a better look at your profile.

They scrolled through, commenting on the clever way you took photos so that no one ever saw your full face. Mostly, you did a lot of selfies with your hair covering your face, mirror selfies with the phone positioned just right, and random pics of your daily life.

“Who is Y/M/N, FAKE/L/N?” Kim asked.

“Oh, that’s just my username. I couldn’t use my real name obviously. So, it’s just my middle name and my mom’s maiden name.”

“Well, it’s not a total lie,” Briana shrugged.

“I am a thirty-something year old woman who is looking for real love. I live in L.A., work in the entertainment industry and travel a lot. I enjoy music (so I especially dig a musician), traveling the world, spending time with friends, whiskey, quiet mornings with coffee, television shows of the supernatural nature, and the beach. I also enjoy a hint of mystery (as you can tell from my lack of selfies), so let’s get to know each other before we see each other.” Kim read part of your short bio out loud and smiled.

“Short and sweet,” Briana pointed out.

“Your pictures are certainly mysterious…” Kim added as she scrolled through them, “and still sexy.”

You giggled before taking the phone from them.

“Thanks. So anyway, I’ve been matched with a few different guys, they’re mostly sort of boring… but, about a month ago, I started talking to this one guy…”

You brought up the man’s profile for them to look at and set it back down on the table. They excitedly began to go through it, smiling and laughing along with you.

“Well, he’s just like you when it comes to that whole mystery thing,” Kim said. “Literally no pictures of his face.”

“I know, and that’s okay,” you replied. “The site says we’re a perfect match, which hasn’t ever happened for me before. But look, he plays guitar and says that he sings in a band. He still hasn’t told me much about that though, he says he wants to save that information for when we decide to meet.”

“He’s from L.A. as well, also in the entertainment industry; obviously a musician,” Kim began to read off from his bio. “He travels too, and he cooks.”

“What’s his name?” Briana asked.

“Patrick,” Kim replied.

“That’s it?” She asked in return. “No last name or anything.”

“Nope,” you said. “He’s mysterious, remember?”

“Well,” Kim said with a smile as she handed your phone back to you, “you gonna show us the conversations you’ve been having?”

You blushed and pocketed your phone just then, “No way. I’m keeping that private.”

“A whole month?” Briana asked. “You’ve been talking to him that long and you still haven’t met him?”

“No. I really wanted to make sure that we clicked before I made that step.”

“Well? Did you click?” Kim added.

“We did,” you replied with a grin. “I like him. I think we’ve got a lot in common.”

“So, when are you meeting him?” They both asked in unison.

You laughed at their excitement, knowing that they had been waiting for you to finally meet someone that you liked. You had been single for a long time and they had both been there to get you through terrible dates and shitty men. They also knew about you ongoing crush on one of the guys you worked with; a crush that never went anywhere because you were so convinced that he was not at all interested. You were never one for online dating, but now you realized that it could very well be the best route for you.

“Actually, we’re meeting this weekend,” you said quietly.

“What?” Briana squealed. “Why? How? We’re in Seattle and you said he also lived in L.A.”

“He does. But, I guess he’s in the area doing a show or something. So, I think it was just fate that this is when we meet for the first time.”

“That’s exciting!” Kim said.

She gripped onto your hand, giving it a squeeze and you found yourself getting nervous now.

“What if he’s cat fishing you?” Briana cut in. “I mean, he sounds good on the screen and all; but what if those aren’t even real pictures of him? What if he’s lying in his bio?”

“I know,” you breathed out. “I understand that there comes some issues with online dating. I haven’t been exactly honest myself. But, I have to meet him, just to see. He could be the one.”

“Okay, but you understand that Kim and I are going on your date with you, right?”

“You are?”

“Yes,” she replied. “There’s no way we’re letting you meet a stranger from the internet alone.”

“Oh, please, don’t do that…”

“She’s right,” Kim added. “We can just sit back wherever you decide to meet. He won’t even know we’re there to protect you.”

“Besides,” Briana grinned. “He looks like he might be hot, if those are actually pictures of him. I wanna see him up close.”

The next morning at the convention center, you were caught up in a conversation with Patrick as you sat in the green room. You had messages each other most of the night after you were done with the convention, and started in early this morning. He was easy to talk to and you only hoped it would be the same when you did actually meet him.

Whenever the two of you messaged each other, it was as if no one else existed. So, you paid no mind to anyone around you, you just kept your nose buried in your phone screen.

Patrick: Are we still on for tonight?

You: I wouldn’t miss it for the world.

Patrick: Is it weird that I’m super nervous to meet you?

You: Not at all. I’m nervous too.

Patrick: But it’s a good nervous, right?

You: Yes. An exciting kind of nervous.

Patrick: I’ve been wanting to kiss you for so long. Is that weird?

You: No. I’ve been thinking about that too.

Patrick: We’ve never even seen each other, and I feel like this is going to be a good thing.

You: I’m glad you feel that way, because I do too.

Patrick: I’ll be working a lot today. But, I’ll try to talk to you when I can.

You: Same. Message me if you get bored.

Patrick: I will. I’ll see you tonight at the place I told you about. Don’t forget the red dress so I can find you.

You set your phone down and sighed out loud, a smile present on your face despite the nervousness you were feeling. Only 8 hours to go, and you were finally meeting him.

“What’s got you so happy?” You heard a voice ask from over your shoulder. You glanced up and saw your friend Rob standing there, leaning over you with a grin on his face.

“N-nothing,” you stuttered out. “How long have you been standing there.”

“Not long. I didn’t see who you were texting if that’s what you’re asking. I just saw that you were smiling like an idiot so I came over to bug you about it.”

“It’s none of your business who I was texting,” you replied. You gave him a gentle tap on his cheek to let him know that he was being nosy.

“Okay, okay,” he laughed. “You’re right. None of my business.

He stepped from behind you and headed toward the exit.

“You coming?” He called out to you. “You’re up first.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming.”

You went through your day, still thinking about your date. You tried to focus on work, but you were too nervous. What if Briana was right? What if Patrick showed up and he wasn’t at all what you expected him to be. You realized that this whole thing could easily become humiliating for you.

At the end of the day, you hung out in the green room with the rest of the group. Everyone was just relaxing, having a few beers, and reliving the moments of the day.

“Don’t you have a date to get ready for?” Briana asked while you were in the middle of taking a drink from your beer.

“Uh, yeah, I guess you’re right,” you mumbled.

“Come on, Kim and I will help.” She shot you a wink as the three of you moved to head out.

“Y/N has a date?” Rich teased. “How did we not know about this?”

“There’s a reason I don’t tell you anything,” you replied.

“Oh come on,” he replied, feigning hurt over your words. “Rob told us that he had a date. You can tell us anything.”

“Rob has a date?” You asked curiously.

“It’s nothing,” Rob replied anxiously. “It’s just this girl that I’ve been seeing.”

“Oh,” you said softly. “Well, have fun.”

“Yeah, you too.”

You couldn’t be sure, but when you walked away, you felt as if Rob looked a bit hurt over the knowledge that you were meeting someone. That was ridiculous though. You knew you were only thinking it because it was sort of a shock for you to hear that he was seeing someone. Everyone knew that you sort of had a thing for Rob when you first met. You got past it pretty quickly though when you realized nothing would ever happen between the two of you. You were friends now, and it was probably best that it stayed that way.

You stood at the bar in the exact spot where Patrick had told you to meet him. You nervously straightened your dress; a sexy red number that you had picked up specifically for this date. You glanced over toward Kim and Briana, who were sitting at the bar as patrons. Patrick would never know that they were there with you, and you felt some comfort in knowing that they were close by in case you needed to bolt for any reason.

Once the two gave you the thumbs up to let you know that they were there for you, you glanced at the clock.

You must have been staring at it for a minute, because you didn’t even see that some had stepped in front of you until you heard him clear his throat.

You looked in front of you, butterflies twirling in your stomach until you saw that it was Rob.

“Rob?” You said in surprise.

“Uh, Y/N?”

“Sorry,” you said. “I was just meeting someone here and you’re kind of the last person I expected to see.”

“Yeah, you have a date tonight. I was meeting my date here as well. In this exact spot actually.”

You furrowed your brows at him, extremely confused as to why he was even here in the first place.

“You’re wearing a red dress,” he pointed out as he looked you up and down.

“Yeah,” you replied. “It was how my date was supposed to know who I was when he showed up.”

“Oh,” he breathed out. “Uh…”

You watched as he became nervous just then. He looked as if he were considering what he should do next.

Finally, he turned his focus back to you. His mouth hung open for a moment as if he wanted to speak but was reconsidering.

“Rob,” you began. “What?”

“Y/M/N?” He asked after a moment.

“How do you know my middle name?” You asked, without anything else even registering at first. “I’ve never told anyone my middle name. I only use it for…”

Just then, it hit you. There was only one way he could know that. So, you figured you should check to see if he was who you thought he was.

“Patrick?” You asked.

“Shit,” he replied. He looked shocked, almost as shocked as you felt now that it was all making sense.

“What the hell?” You nearly shouted. “You used a fake name?”

“Technically, it’s my middle name,” he replied.

Your shock wore off and you laughed at him, sort of intrigued that you had both chose middle name aliases for the sake of avoiding fans on the dating app.

“So, you’re the guy I’ve been talking to for the last month?”

“I guess so,” he chuckled.

“This is kind of embarrassing,” you admitted. “I mean, I can’t even be mad at you. Everything you said in your bio was true. Fuck, how did I not realize it was you?”

“To be fair, I didn’t know that you were you. Neither of us ever shared pictures of our faces.”

“Still, those pictures of you playing guitar? I should have known. Now I’m seeing them all in my head and it makes so much sense.”

“How do you think I feel?” He replied.

The two of you laughed together, no longer uncomfortable in the moment. Looking back, it all made sense.

You had developed a crush on the man when you had first met him. The only reason that you went on bad dates with other guys or even joined a dating site, was because you thought you didn’t stand a chance with Rob of all people. Now, it was almost as if fate had put him here for a reason.

“I guess we should sit and have dinner,” you said. “After all, we went through all that trouble getting to know each other… even if we already knew each other.”

“Yeah, of course,” he replied. “Let’s have dinner. Also, you can probably tell Kim and Bri that they can go now.”

“Oh,” you chuckled. “You saw them, did you?”

“Yeah, I saw them. Maybe let them know you’re safe with me.”

“I’ll be right back,” you said as you touched his arm.

You headed toward the bar to let the girls know what was going on. It took a bit of explaining, but you really didn’t want to get too into it given the fact that Rob was waiting for you. You promised them that you’d give them details later; but for now, you just really wanted to be with your date.

You joined Rob again and a waiter led you to a table where you both sat and ordered drinks and dinner. While waiting for your meals, the two of you continued to laugh over the unexpected turn of events tonight.

“This is kinda wild,” Rob explained. “You know, I spent all that time talking to you online, and I felt like I really connected with you. There had been other matches, but I never did actually meet any of them. It just didn’t feel right, you know?”

“This did though?”

“Yeah,” he smiled. “Probably because we already knew each other, and talking to you online anonymously was just like talking to a friend.”

“Right,” you replied. “We’re friends. I get it.”

“Well, I mean… maybe friends don’t really talk to each other the way we did during our chats.”

“Ah, well, neither of us knew who we were talking to,” you reminded him.

You thought back to those long, late night exchanges; the way you both bared your souls to each other, the way that he told you he couldn’t wait to meet you and get that first kiss, the way you had flirted rather openly in attempts to get him hot and bothered. The two of you had been more open and more yourselves during that time than you ever had been with anyone else. There was just something about him that comforted you.

“I just can’t believe that out of every person I was matched with, you ended up being the one,” he said.

“Are you disappointed?”

He kept quiet for a moment, studying you with bright blue eyes as you waited for him to shoot you down.

“Not at all,” he replied finally. “This might be a good time to tell you that I’ve been into you for a long time. I jumped on the dating app to get myself out there when I realized I liked you. I thought I had no chance with you, so I tried to get over you. Never would have thought that my attempt to get over you would lead me straight to you.”

You smiled at him, pleased that his thoughts were exactly your own. You had more in common than you thought.

“Same for me honestly.”

“What? You had a thing for me?”

“Maybe a little crush,” you admitted. “But I thought you were out of my league, so I also jumped on the dating app.”

“It’s almost as if we were meant to be,” he said softly. “Neither of us think we’re good enough for the other, so fate steps in and brings us right to each other.”

He reached across the table then, taking your hand in his as he looked at you with adoration in his eyes. It was crazy, but you felt content here with him. You felt as if this was where you should have been all along.

“I like that,” you said with a smile. “I’m glad it worked out this way.”

You and Rob spent the next few hours talking some more. Yes, you knew each other already and considered yourselves friends; but it was different now that you knew he had been interested in you just as much as you had been into him. You laughed at the fact that it had been a dating app of all things to finally bring you together.

At the end of the date, you and Rob walked back to the hotel together. He held your hand the entire time, and even that felt so normal for you.

Once you were at your room, you stopped outside the door, not wanting to leave him just yet.

“You know,” you said sheepishly as you stared down at your feet. “You told me earlier, when you were Patrick, that you couldn’t wait to kiss me.”

“I did say that.”

You looked up at him then, greeted by a smile on his face as you spoke.

“Did you mean it?”

“I did.”

“Is that something that you’re still considering even if I’m probably not who you expected me to be.”

“Maybe you weren’t what I expected,” he admitted. “But, you’re exactly what I wanted.”

You only smiled in return, grateful that this twist of events had turned into this. Before you could speak, he was already moving closer to you. He placed a hand against your face, leading you toward him until his lips pressed gently against yours.

Your breath caught for a moment, thrilled to have him kissing you finally. After a second, you relaxed and lost yourself in that first kiss, your lips moving against his slowly as you both relished in the moment.

This wasn’t what you expected out of tonight either, but you agreed with his sentiment. It was exactly what you wanted all along.

When the kiss was done, he placed his forehead against yours as you both took a minute to catch your breaths.

“I think I’m gonna delete that app,” he said.

“Really?”

“Yeah, I don’t think I need it anymore.”

“I agree,” you replied.

“What are you gonna do with yours?” His question almost sounded like a challenge. It was as if he was hoping you’d say the same thing.

“If I deleted it, how would I be able to to have those long, sexy conversations with Patrick?” You asked playfully.

Rob smirked at you before placing another kiss on your lips.

“You’ve got the real thing now,” he said. “We can have all the long, sexy conversations you want, face to face.”

“I’m liking the sound of this,” you giggled. You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer to you. “I have to ask, would it be too forward of me to invite you in?”

“Well, Y/M/N and Patrick have only been talking for a month…”

“Yeah, but how long have Rob and Y/N known each other?”

“A long time,” he replied.

“A couple years, at least.”

“You sure you want me to come in?” He asked.

“I really like you. I’ve always liked you. I feel like tonight just sealed the deal.”

“I can wait, Y/N,” he insisted. He ran a finger along your lips as he spoke, causing your breath to hitch at the intimacy of the action. “If you want to take things slow, I understand. You don’t have to do this just because you think you should.”

“That’s the thing,” you breathed out. “We’ve wasted so much time already. We’re perfect for each other and we spent all that time never telling each other how we felt. We’re a perfect match. The app even said so. Come in.”

He smiled at you as you reached for your room key. You kept your eyes on him, hoping that he wouldn’t shoot you down right now. Maybe you were being too forward, but it had been a long time since you had been with anyone. You knew that Rob was the one for you. Years of denial and one fateful dating app had proved that. You weren’t afraid of being with him at all, you only wanted to jump into the relationship that you both knew you should have been a part of a long time ago.

“Okay,” he agreed as he took your hand again.

You opened the door and he followed you inside.

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#spnfluffbingo #rob benedict x reader #rob benedict rpf

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taeverie · 7 years

Text

Until Next Time—02 [m]

[10:36 PM] Jimin: babe, i have an emergency

[10:37 PM] You: what is it??

[10:37 PM] Jimin: um, i’m really hard right now. help me out

[10:39 PM] Jimin: [image0541.png]

[10:39 PM] Jimin: please? :)

Synopsis: You’re finally seeing Jimin tomorrow after months of amorous skype sex, but the night before he asks for a small favor.

Pairing: Jimin x Reader // gaming au/long distance relationship

Genre: Smut, Humor

Word Count: 4k

Includes: skype sex, dirty talk

Parts: 01 || 02 || 03

A/N: woooow, the next part finally re-uploaded!! the sports collab is taking longer than i thought to finish and push out.... oh my, LOL

[11:29 PM] Jimin: is requesting a video call…

[11:30 PM] You: missed a video call from Jimin.

Three months have passed since the accidental encounter with Park Jimin, your cyber fuck buddy. You would have never guessed that a random stranger from a dumb online game would grow the slightest ounce of significance in your life; then again, perhaps you just got lucky.

[11:30 PM] Jimin: wtf are you doing, don’t you want to see my face?

[11:32 PM] You: We have thirty minutes till midnight and i want to sleep

[11:32 PM] Jimin: well i just want to see you

[11:33 PM] You: ur literally seeing me tomorrow. leave me alone omfg

It isn’t a lie that you are going to hop on a short plane ride to see him in person after viewing his face through a small screen for months. Honestly, the few months of phone sex and dirty texts lost their excitement and thrill. So, like every time before, Jimin pressed on the fact that you should see him.

And after giving the same response of “no” for a while, you finally comply and the long awaited day is less than 24 hours away.

So why the fuck is he requesting to video call as if that day is never arriving?

[11:37 PM] Jimin: please, i’m kind of horny rn :)

[11:40 PM] You: Let me sleep!! I’ll be tired tomorrow if i don’t lmao

[11:41 PM] Jimin: that’s okay we can spend it in my bed

[11:41 PM] Jimin: ;)

[11:43 PM] You: Why are we friends again

[11:44 PM] Jimin: we aren’t friends :) we’re more than that

Well, he isn’t wrong. You would define your relationship with Park Jimin as friends with benefits — through the darn internet — but he would strongly argue otherwise by tossing around the term “fuck buddies,” online of course.

But even though he isn’t wrong, his craving for you as a whole is through the roof. You would either wake up with a horny text from Jimin; if not, a few desperate missed calls. The entire cycle of skype sex after a few rounds of playing a match continues with ease — the whole “relationship” appears to flow smoothly to your surprise. Finally, after three extensive months of pleasuring yourself to the thought of him or the mere sound of his voice, you can touch him in person, feel him in real life — fuck him especially.

[11:46 PM] Jimin: is requesting a video call…

[11:48 PM] You: missed a video call from Jimin.

You frown at your screen, waiting for his following messages to flood in from why you are declining his calls, and they come instantaneously.

[11:49 PM] Jimin: baby :(

[11:49 PM] Jimin: i’m needy rn. horny rn. pleaseeee

You watch the plethora of his pleads soar in one after another, each message filling with more desire after the previous. Aware that his excuse of a scheme to get you to give into him will not come to an end, you take the device in hand and switch on the silence option. Though, before you get the chance to place it back onto your nightstand, the most enticing message of the night arrives:

[11:50 PM] Jimin: [image0541.png]

You take a second to yourself to wonder if it is the right choice to brush the message to the side, ignoring it until the sun rises, but there is a part of you that wants to give into what wonder lies within the picture message.

Jimin always does that when you deny him — refuse to satisfy him. He sends a needy picture of himself, hand shoved down his pants or a perfect image of his whole, hard length that aches for you. And every single time, you give in.

You are trying to fight the strong urge to swipe your screen to unlock, the treasure of an image unraveling before your eyes, but like always, you give in.

Oh, how that is a mistake.

Because what awaits your screen complete exceeds your first thought of the message. Rather than it being a selfie of Jimin pouting or a blurry capture of his semi-hard length resting in the gaps of his fingertips, it is something far more rousing. Jimin has his hand wrapped around his hard member, pants and boxers hugging his thighs as he stands comfortably in the confinements of his restroom. He has freshly came, creamy white dripping from his slit and down his length, coating his fingers in his own succulence.

The tip of his dick is still tinging with scarlet hues, the amount of effort it took for him to hold off limpid; honestly, it is a huge turn on. You wonder what he put himself through to distract his being from giving into his carnality, result being satisfying to both you and him anyway. God, the sight of his aching dick alone provides you with enough elements to lucidly imagine his guttural groans, whispers of your name as he fucks his own hand to the enlivening thought of you.

Ready to reply with a simple message, he interrupts your typing phase with another picture.

[11:54 PM] Jimin: [image0542.png]

[11:54 PM] Jimin: talk to me :(

It’s another picture of his sex, grasp still around his now flaccid length.

[11:58 PM] Jimin: baby pleaseee

Fine, what’s the worst that can happen anyway? It will only be a few minutes of giving him what he wants then you can sleep soundly for the next day. You prop your laptop on your pillow and start up skype, immediately searching for his contact name.

[11:59 PM] You: are requesting to video call…

Within a matter of seconds, he answers.

The moment his eyes fall onto your tired self, prone physique adorning an oversized tee with your messy hair, he lets out a bright smile as if on cue. “Beautiful,” he comments in an excited voice, “you’re so beautiful. I’m so happy I can finally see this in person tomorrow.”

“Yeah?” you say. “If you fall asleep now then tomorrow will come quicker.”

You watch him purse his lips into a pout. “Jeez, this won’t even take long. You can fall asleep on the call if you’d like—I just wanted to see you for a little while.”

“I won’t be sleeping if you’re going to be talking,” you point out, drained.

Jimin chuckles, implying something else. “Right,” he says nervously, “so, um…”

“What is it?” You raise a brow, rubbing your tired eyes.

“Fuck,” he says with a huff, “you’re so hot. I really can’t believe I’m seeing you tomorrow. I can see your face, touch your body, taste you, and—”

“—oh my god,” you interrupt, “Jimin are you still horny?”

“I can’t help it, I’m just excited to see you,” he whines.

You shrug off his comment and follow with another question, “Where are you right now? Why is it so dark? I can barely see you.”

“In my room now,” he responds instantly, “wishing you were here.”

“Gosh, you’re so horny,” you roll your eyes.

Jimin laughs, his smile bright. He leans in, coming closer to the webcam — the screen — to get a better view of you. “I can’t help it.”

“I can’t wait to see you tomorrow,” you muse with a smirk.

Jimin hums, still unable to think straight. “Right, but for now, um, tonight… Can I watch you?”

Your eyes flare wide at his request, a blatant foreign statement hopping off the tip of his tongue. “Why so eager?”

“Because—” Jimin groans and throws himself back against the mattress, slightly kicking the blanket like a petulant child— “Fuck, my dick is already getting hard again just thinking about it.”

You take a moment to allow yourself to think: when is the last time you have seen Jimin so desperate? He tends to be patient while committing skype sex with you, sole reason to tease you to the edge, lightly boss you around until you are begging — but it appears the roles have switched tonight. Your disbelief towards Jimin’s helpless desires is amusing, but an absolute war for Jimin.

You crack a sly grin, evocative scenarios running through your mind. Jimin is quite similar to a pawn now, ready to take orders — only to have his cravings met. “What are you thinking about?”

Jimin raises himself quickly, eyes staring straight at the webcam. “I’ll tell you if you finger yourself for me.”

“I will if you guess what color my panties are,” you tell him, holding back your impatient longing.

You watch the bright screen and the way his eyebrows raise to your statement, lips pressing into a tight line while his pants become more compact due to his solidifying member. “Um,” he licks the outline of his lips, gaze directed upwards as if he is soaring through his thought clouds. Though, all he can imagine is a wet spot on your underwear, which he would then gladly pull down only to press his tongue at your drenching core. “R-red?” he croaks, embarrassed at the way his voice cracks.

You shake your head, entertained. “Nope, try again.”

He bites his lip, crossed. “My favorite color, pink?”

“Wrong,” you inform him with a singsong voice. Jimin groans, patience falling apart and he hangs his head low. You position yourself in front of the camera, knees digging into the soft of your mattress as you play with the hem of your large shirt. You pull it up slowly, fabric inching higher and higher on your thighs before you raise it to your stomach. “I’m not wearing any, Jimin.”

Jimin quickly lifts his head, hands soaring to grab onto the display of his laptop while his yearning eyes are filling with hope. The moment your pussy comes into the screen, no cotton barrier blocking his view, he instantly moans out your name. His dick twitches in his pants, an uncomfortable sensation that fuels him fervent. “Why is this so hot?” he asks you, palm soaring over his length to rub it softly. “Let me see more.”

You pull your shirt down, straining the material. “What was that?” you ask, playful with a wink.

“God.” Jimin rakes a hand through his hair, frustrated with a strong compulsion to fuck you senseless. If only you are here next to him. “Let me see you,” he orders. “Babe.”

“Yes?” you respond, feigning innocence.

Jimin tries to distract himself, attempting to restrict every fiber of his being to give into his ardent want for you. But all he sees on the small, bright blue screen is your figure popping out of the darkness, barely any illumination in your room aside from the silly desk lamp at the corner.

“I want to see you,” he demands. “Now.”

“Do you?”

“Babe!” he exclaims, frustration twirling with his tone. “P-please…” he begs shamefully.

You cannot help but chuckle airly at the single, simple word that he voices. And all you want to do is provide him with more. “Alright,” you hum. You cross your arms at the thick hem of your tee, lifting it up so quickly and stripping yourself of the material completely. The only thing Jimin is left to marvel at is your whole naked body — which is way more than what he has expected.

The sight of your breasts, curves, and wet pussy is all visible to him, and all he wants to do is place his hands on you. “Baby…” he mumbles, eyes glueing onto the small flat monitor. His mouth is agape, practically drooling over your appearance and oh, how it feeds his agonizing fancies.

You grab onto one of your breasts, squeezing it in the palm of your hand while the other trails down to your core, grazing your skin. Your body heats up at the enlivening sensation, amorous aspirations soon inclining to Jimin’s level. You slide two fingers down your pussy, succulence coating your digits before you prop yourself back on your elbows in front of the screen, ending Jimin’s prolonged show.

“Shit,” he murmurs. “Baby, you’re so hot.”

You blow the few free strands of hair away from your face, sheening a grin at him. “Jimin,” you tease, “let me see you now.”

“W-what? Can you go back to the–”

“—Jimin,” you complain, lips pursing into a pout. “I want you so bad,” you tell him. “Didn’t you see that?”

Jimin throws his head back. “Fuck, I did,” he responds and scoots back on his bed. Jimin strips himself of his tee and tosses it elsewhere prior to palming his hard length over his pants. His bulge is prominent, outstanding, and it makes your mouth water at the sight. His movements are incredibly intricate, as if he is trying to act perfectly to rouse him to the edge — all to the sight of you.

He remembers your scene perfectly: how beautiful you looked groping your own breast, breathy moans leaving your mouth and all he ached to do at that moment was to shut you up with his own. He imagines himself being the one teasing you, provoking you to act on oscillation with your fingers digging into your soaking cunt. Fuck, how wet you are right now. Jimin craves another taste, just how he has for the past few months. He cannot fathom how incredible you will be, and how ready he is to relish in such honey.

He moans, body heat rising to almost temperate sensations all fired by sensuality. He grips onto his hard member over his sweats, dragging it to the base and back up to the tip. A wet spot forms on his pants, more than visible, and all you can do is titter.

“Jimin,” you whisper, “let me see you.”

He frantically nods, obeying your words without hesitation. With both of his hands he gains a grip on the waistband of his sweats and boxers, dragging them down to his knees, lazy to take them off completely. Your eyes broaden at the way his hard length springs against his lower abdomen, tip an angry scarlet.

“Mm, baby, you’re so hard,” you point out proudly.

Jimin chuckles, struggling and shifting in his position. “All because of you.”

He gains a firm grasp around his solid length, toying with the tip of his dick first before jerking his wrist lightly on his length. Occasionally, he runs his thumb over his leaking slit to spread the precum around the head. His hips jerk up into his hold, grasp becoming tight with every thrust. “Ugh,” Jimin groans, “I- ah- want to be inside of you already.”

You watch as he quickens his movements, motions becoming sloppy and quicker. Jimin has to take periodical breathers from the overwhelming pleasure, his hard length slowly tinting an angry red from the tip down.

“Touch yourself again,” he orders, “let me see you fuck your own fingers for me.”

You smile, fulfilling his command. You tilt your screen a little and sit back again, providing the perfect view of your dripping pussy. Keeping yourself propped on your elbow, your other hand diverges from your core to your chest, squeezing it one last time in front of the camera for Jimin.

Jimin slips his hand underneath the flimsy material of his tee, palm roaming all over his abdomen and chest before he toys with his nipples underneath the material. “Fuck,” he murmurs, head dangling as he intakes a deep breath.

“Baby,” you call, “look at me—watch me.”

He raises his gaze to the screen, only to find the most bewitching scene waiting for him. You are rubbing your sopping pussy, merciless and ardent to arouse you even further.

The sight of you pressing and rubbing firm circles over your cunt causes him to halt his movements just so he can watch. You begin to unravel under your own touch, the lewd thoughts of Jimin intoxicating your mind. You treat your body with care — the opposite of what Jimin intends to do when you meet him in person.

Fuck, you cannot even draw faint pictures in your imagination of Jimin’s tongue lapping at your cunt, licking every ounce of your juices as he dives in to pleasure you. He has constantly been craving that since the day you first met him, and pesters you constantly on how he craves that by the clock.

When you slip one digit into your hole, your finger then drenching in your arousal, Jimin rips a groan from his throat instantly. “Mm, Jimin,” you beckon him, head throwing back from delight. “I need to feel you inside of me,” you moan.

“Ah, baby.” Jimin feels himself run weak at your words, satisfied with your status. “Just imagine your fingers are my dick.”

“But it’s hard,” you complain.

Jimin laughs, voicing a jest, “I am hard.” Jimin watches you slip in another finger, joy swimming in his veins from you providing your own amusement. “Add another finger, I know you can take three,” he demands, content.

“B-but—”

“—add another finger,” he repeats, tone lacing with poison.

You bite back your words and swallow your breath, bracing for the sharp pain as you stretch your pussy out for him. And so you do.

“Good girl,” he praises with a smirk. Jimin starts to pump himself to the rhythm of his heavy heartbeats, a melody that swirls with your sweet sighs and gentle cries for him. The squelch of your fingers keeps his senses keen, providing him with a vigorous desire to push you to the edge. He starts to tweak at his own nipples again while he jacks himself off, almost turbulently.

You start to grind yourself onto your own hand, pouring every ounce of your titillating desires into your actions, urging yourself a step closer to release. Softly, you moan when you curl your fingers and hit your own sweet spot.

“Fuck, you sound amazing.” Jimin speeds up his actions, grip painfully tight on his member as he does all he can to drag him to his release. He removes his other hand from under his shirt and sails it to his balls, fondling them and showing them just as much love. He hunches over, thighs beginning to quiver — a signal that he is close to cumming.

“Ah, Jimin,” you cry and sit up, fingers still propelling inside of your core. You use your free hand to squeeze your breasts, playing around with the nubs to induce your state of extreme elation. “J-Jimin…”

“Baby, that’s- ah- right,” he says with a smirk. “How do I feel?”

You clamp your eyes shut, pitch running high. “S-so good, you feel so good and I want more.”

“Oh, baby, you’ll get more tomorrow.” He suggests in between breaths, “I’ll let you grind on my thighs, ride my cock—anything. Wouldn’t you like that?”

Fuck, the thought of you topping Jimin leads you into nothing more but a dead end of delirious thrills. “Mm, yes baby,” you utter.

“I’d be, agh, more than happy to eat you out—to have you cum so many fucking times until you are begging for me to stop.”

Your body jerks and you hopelessly fall onto the mattress, back arching as you prepare to release. There is a tight feeling in your stomach, an intense amount of heat emitting from that same area, and your mind starts to enter its own frenzy. “J-Jimin,” you pant, tone needy and brittle as you attempt to shield your loud cries.

You quicken your pace, fingers fluidly moving in and out of your cunt, arousal leaking and coating your digits with every smooth entry. You curl your fingers every so often, driving yourself to a fervent paradise. Mutters of his name become slurred with your lush moans of delectation, and it prompts Jimin closer to his edge.

“That’s right baby,” Jimin huffs. “Ah, you sound so good. You would feel so good.”

“Jimin! M-make me cum, please,” you beg, one hand soaring to twist into your thin sheets. But that action alone does not stall your longing.

Jimin chuckles, his motions on his shaft quick, smooth. “Keep fucking yourself, my dirty baby girl.”

You groan at the name; his jaw hangs open to release a deep groan, sweet nothings pouring from his lips. “Jimin…”

“What do- agh- you want?” he muses, still finding it a struggle to speak.

“I-I need you to fill me up… I need you inside of me so fucking bad—please.” Tears begin to well at your eyes from your mind being sent into an overdrive, extreme pleasure coming over your body in waftures. You feel so weak in your own touch — under Jimin’s words. All you desperately want to do is cum.

Jimin clasps harder with the last bits of his strength over his pulsating member, bumping up the friction by also rolling his hips into his hand. Jimin roots his hand into his mattress, trying to remain upright as he powers through his arriving goal.

“Mm, baby,” he chuckles, “you look so good fucking yourself like that—touching yourself for me. Shit, how does that feel? Good, but you know I can do better. No one can fuck you like I will.”

Jimin throws his head back and bites the outline of his lip, his warm cum shooting out of his member and onto his shirt. The creamy liquid seeps into the material, ready to stain it, but Jimin still tries to jerk himself empty with haste. It appears as if he has lost control, the only action he can willfully commit is living up to the amorous action.

You watch as his movements wither slowly, but soon after your orgasm arrives in miniature ripples.

“F-fuck,” you utter. It feels as if the heat contained in your body has finally erupted, nothing but raw euphoria taking over your body. Utterances spill from your lips mindlessly, thoughts a whirlwind and you remain niche for the most part.

Jimin peers at you on the screen past the blanket of his lashes, joyous rapture finally dissipating at the seams.

With a final huff of his name, your body feels as light as a feather. You fluidly pump yourself through your release, a high heaven that you seems like you have not felt in ages. You watch Jimin near the screen, his hand wiping on his tee, and he sheens a sly grin.

“What?” you ask with a deep breath.

Jimin chuckles. “Taste yourself.”

“I- what?” you ask, a part of you hoping this is another one of his silly jests.

Jimin urges you to continue, a glint in his eyes almost irresistible. “You heard me, let me see you taste your- whoa…”

Before you allow Jimin to finish his command you raise your hand to your mouth and prop the digits inside, tongue swirling around them, relishing in your own juices. Your inch closer to the webcam, ridding of the large proximity to make sure that Jimin gets a view of his desired show.

“Baby… you’re so fucking gorgeous,” he lets out with a laugh. “Thank you.”

You groan, tired from the incident, and collapse on the bed with your body feeling as light as a feather. The soft of your sheets practically engulf you, pulling you in for a night’s rest after, yet another, heated skype sex session.

Within moments your laptop is long forgotten along with Jimin’s presence, and you finally give into the fatigue that has been prolonged for Jimin’s satisfaction.

God, you might be seeing him tomorrow, but tonight is entirely worth it,

The last thing you hear before your mind shuts off is Jimin mumbling, “I love you.”

When you groggily wake the next morning you take a weary peak at your phone, only to find seven missed calls from Jimin awaiting you.

You pause for a second, mind too tired to process the reasoning behind it, until it hits you:

Peering at the time, you missed your flight to Jimin three and a half hours ago.

#ba dum tssst #bts #bts smut #jimin smut #bts scenarios #jimin scenario #bts jimin #jimin #bangan boys #bts imagines #woohoo more of jen's #writing

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lurkinmerkin · 6 years

Text

So I’m doing some math (I’m terrible at it) but nonetheless, I did some thinking and then some subtraction and realized that it was in about 1998 that my family got a computer with Microsoft Windows installed along with a dial-up internet connection. And so this is technically my 20th anniversary of reading fanfic and being a part of internet fandom. I figured I should celebrate it a bit.

I don’t remember the exact date or time or whatever, I can barely add or subtract, so June seems like a good in the middle of the year kind of time to recollect and think about what I’ve been doing with my life. Think about why I read so much, why I reblog things, why I am the way I am.

This ask meme was written by @mabel-but-slytherin and I decided, I’ll just answer the whole damn thing. I’m sure absolutely no one is interested in this info but I don’t give a fuck. 20 goddamn years of my life in fandom, do you seriously think I give a fuck anymore? I don’t care about you or your eyes. I officially left the give a fuck building a long ass time ago.

If you have seen a fandom ask meme about being a lurker (which I was for a good ten years) or about reading fanfic instead of just writing fanfic, send it my way and I’ll answer it too. I have stories.

1. What was your first fic and could you stand to reread it today?

It was Thursday Night Routine and it’s readable but I find it a bit repetitive and out of character. Although, with Glee, how was I supposed to know who these people would become, lol. ;A;

2. What’s your most recent fic and how far do you think you’ve come?

My most recent was Vesper Lynde for the Spy fandom and I think I’ve grown as a writer but my characterization is still clumsy and my comedy isn’t as sharp. I think I was funnier before. I also have issues getting to the sex scene that I never had before. It drives me batty.

3. In your opinion, what’s your best fic?

The thoroughly depressing and out of nowhere for me fic, Ozma. That night was a eureka moment, it was bliss writing that fic. It flowed. I probably got the closest to american gothic and poetry with that fic--which is my usual goal when I do creative writing off the internet.

4. In your opinion and without looking at any numbers, what’s your most popular fic?

So much of what I wrote was done anonymously before AO3 and Tumblr so it’s hard for me to say but I’m gonna guess Everybody’s Pickin’ Up on that Feline Beat because the cat!boi thing really slapped. Like people loooooved the cat!boi thing in 2010.

5. Is there any fic that makes you super happy to reread and remember you wrote that?

Third is the One With the Treasure Chest. It has some issues but I still can’t believe I wrote it, like that was my third fanfic ever and it was a muppet babies’ orgy. I have no idea how I did it, :D

6. Is there any fic that makes you super embarrassed to reread and remember you wrote that?

Not really? I’m not embarrassed by what I write (I can’t be, I write weird shit), but I don’t necessarily want people to come up to me in real life and start describing my fic to me. Like I don’t want my realities to intersect. That’s what I’m really sure would embarrass me.

7. What’s the fic you most want to continue (unfinished or no)?

I’m not gonna finish it, like it’s not happening, but I kind of wish I had finished Look What You Made Me Do. I still noodle a about Sarah Plain and Tall Klaine story. I did a lot of research into Gilded era hair and fashions.

8. What’s the oldest (longest since last update) fic you most want to continue (unfinished or no)?

Probably the epically awful and creepy Matchmaker, Matchmaker, Make me a Match where Sandy and Karofsky kidnap and assault Kurt. I was fascinated by how absolutely horrific Sandy Ryerson was as a character. He’s the worst. I’m not doing a sequel though. I’m not.

9. Have you ever written for a fandom without watching/reading/playing the source material?

Read? Yes. Written? No. I don’t think I’m the best at characterization but I do feel a need for a basic grasp on it before I start writing anything.

10. Have you ever written for a fandom without reading other fanfic for it?

I wrote Vesper Lynde before I read any of the fic which was probably a good thing because there are some really good fics out there that already cover the subject I did (and did it better). But I’m glad I wrote it anyway because I have so many feelings about Rayna and Susan.

11. Have you ever written a fic for a concept you know someone else has done before? How did it impact your writing process or feelings after posting?

I honestly don’t know so I’m going to say no. I have seen these stories after I wrote what I wrote and have thought, Oh I should have done that or why didn’t I think of that?, but I have never seen a fic beforehand and thought that I could do it better or different enough. I wrote fic in order to fill a gap of weird skullfuckery that was missing before I showed up.

12. Have you ever written a fic and decided never to publish it? Why?

Yes. It was bad, I wrote myself into a corner and had no interest in fixing it. The writing felt dull and flat. If I post an unfinished work, I do it because I think the writing has merit.

13. What’s the biggest change between your style when you started in fandom and today?

I write more original work now, I write poetry mostly nowadays. And fanfic I do write has been smaller vignette pieces, has had way less sex in it and minimal wacky shenanigans. I kind of want to go back to wacky shenanigans honestly.

14. What’s the biggest change in your taste between when you started in fandom and today?

I’m riding a girl swing this year so I’m way more interested in stories that involve cunnilingus and strap-ons, boob devotionals and short fingernails. I sort of got into that in the middle of my Glee career (the Golden Age) before swinging back to boys and their balls (the Modern Age). In this new Age, I’m back to ladies.

15. Have you ever purposefully written one fandom/fic idea over another because you knew it’d be more popular?

I think I tried to do that once but then I failed because my niche is being an off-beat weird motherfucker, not popular. I thought that I’m Not a Girl, Not Yet a Woman would go awf but instead it fizzled. So I stuck with dickpunching.

16. Have you ever stopped writing a fic/for a fandom because it wasn’t receiving enough attention?

No. I didn’t really get a lot of attention outside my circle anyway.

17. In your opinion, what’s your most overrated fic?

I guess the Cat!Kurt fic? I think it’s a good story, I just think that I wrote some that were better.

18. What’s your most underrated fic?

And if the world runs out of lovers, my Blaine/Finn fic. I had a lot of fun with that one and I think I got some really funny lines in.

19. If you had to pick one fic/scene/chapter of your work to describe your entire portfolio to a stranger, which would you pick?

I would say, They’re Both Just Full of Feelings, OK? which is a story were Puck and Mercedes get very drunk, complain about their homosexual tendencies and then motorboat each others tiddies. I feel like that about covers the gist of my aesthetic.

20. Have/Would you ever rewrite a fic? If yes, would you take the original down?

I am doing a slow ass sloow rewrite of As Needed, just some clean up of tense issues and little nudges here and there of some of the wording. And I will take down the original when I do that. It needs better grammar, it does.

21. If someone starts kudosing and commenting your fics in a spree and has a few works of their own, would you go look through theirs?

Yes. I love spying and I love other people’s bookmarks. I keep mine private because I’m a hypocrite and I don’t know how to make them public en masse. I am not doing that individually.

22. Has there ever been anyone who’s made you freak out because they read your work and followed/favorited/reviewed?

No, but I freak out at every follow/favorite/review regardless. There are people who I love love love but they aren’t in the fandoms I write in so I never expect to have an insane fangirl moment like that.

23. What’s the nicest review you’ve ever gotten?

When I wrote Ozma, someone on the kinkmeme said that it read like a contemporary short story and I was flattered!

24. What’s the meanest review you’ve ever gotten? Do you think the reviewer intended it?

25. What constructive criticism, however well-meaning, always makes you feel bad when you see it in a review?

Gosh, that’s tough. I’m gonna go with criticisms that question your intent? Like when someone goes, “Did you mean to say this or that?” but not because it makes me feel bad but more because it makes me feel like I didn’t get my point across clearly enough that the reader could make their own conclusions about what was happening. I am very much of the author is dead style and part of that is leaving enough there to satisfy the reader without giving it all away.

26. What aspect of your writing do you most enjoy to see praised?

My humor. I like it when people find me funny. I don’t feel like my humor makes sense a lot of the time. Also, when people say that they re-read my stories. That’s always a heart warmer.

27. If you could only ever write crossovers or single-fandom fics ever again, which would you pick?

I prefer single-fandom fics as a writer. Crossovers get messy for me, too many locations to choose from.

28. if you could only ever write for a single crossover or a single fandom again, which would you pick?

Schitt’s Creek. David/Patrick 4eva!

29. Does the division of your writing across fandoms line up with your reading? What’s the biggest discrepancy?

Absolutely not, LMAO! I have done way more reading than writing in any fandom. My participation is a pebble on a mountainside.

30. Do you continue to write for a fandom after you’ve moved on or do you focus solely on the new one?

I wrote Glee fic (and I am still working on As Needed) after I had moved on from the show but a lot of us did. My attention span allows me to multifandom.

31. Who’s the one character you’ve just never managed to get perfectly right?

Susan Cooper. She’s an enigma.

32. Who’s the one character who shines without you even trying?

Puck, I feel like I wrote a very solid Puck.

33. Is there any particular character whose scenes always wind up being longer/more frequent than you expected? Does the quality hold up?

I would guess Brittany but I don’t think the quality holds up. I liked writing Brittany but I don’t think I captured her essence.

34. Was there any fic that you wrote that really surprised you in the fandom reaction? Was it just by the numbers or did they take it an entirely different way?

I get a lot of requests for a sequel to Sex Bomb even to this day and it surprises me.

35. Have you ever written a ship into a fic without meaning to?

No, I was ready to write anyone with anyone in any fic. I love it.

36. Have you ever sincerely written a ship you do not support into a fic?

Don’t support? Well, I don’t support Kurt/Karofsky but I write non-con fic so...

37. Have you ever purposefully bashed a character/ship in a fic?

I would only in an in-character sense, like the character would be against that pairing because of the show dramatics. At least, that was always my intent.

38. Have you ever purposefully written something you know your readers would find uncomfortable/would not enjoy? If yes, why?

Because that’s how the glee_anon meme worked sometimes LOL. Sometimes, you gotta have the anal worm lay the eggs.

39. Do you consider yourself to have a readership?

Not anymore lol, if I ever did. I don’t write enough.

40. Do you feel like you put out enough content?

I peaked with the Muppet Babies’ orgy, that was my third fic. Everything else was gravy.

41. If you cross-post your fics on multiple sites, do you have a favorite? Are there certain fics you would only post on certain site?

I want all my fics on AO3 largely because I think livejournal is gonna die soon and tumblr is unsearchable and lacks a forum function.

42. How many views has your most popular fic gotten?

(Based on AO3): Ozma at 28672 Hits

43. Your least popular?

(Based on AO3): There’s a Lobster Involved at 38 Hits

44. Do you follow/favorite/kudos/comment/review more stories than you have received?

Oh gosh, I never thought of it that way but I hope I at least kudos more than I’ve received! I don’t have that many bookmarks and I don’t review and I rarely comment (I’m more like to DM you) but I do leave kudos a lot.

45. If you had to call yourself an author of a single genre (besides fanfic) what label would you give yourself?

With my original works: poetry. With my fanfic works: absurdism

46. Do you consider yourself a diverse author?

Yeah, I think I covered a wide range of topics and styles along with a lot of different characters. I had humor, drama, horror, angst, slice of life, porn, I covered a lot of ground.

47. If someone you know in real life who isn’t involved in fandoms asked to read your work, would you let them? If yes, what would you recommend they read first?

NO.

48. Does anyone you know from outside of fandom know you write fanfic? Are they involved in the same fandom too?

Yes, they know and they were also Glee fans but not necessarily fanfic readers. Just how much they know will remain a mystery between us because they won’t tell me and I won’t ask them to tell me. I don’t need that knowledge and I don’t want it.

49. Has anyone in your life ever read your fanfic just because you wrote it?

NOT THAT I KNOW OF AND I DON’T WANT THEM TO TELL ME IF THEY DID. KEEP IT TO YOURSELF.

50. Has writing fanfic had a significant impact on your life? Would you say it’s entirely positive?

I have an absolutely incredible circle of friends that I would not have had without fandom. So many people that I know out of fandom don’t spend as much time on the internet, they aren’t as easy to reach as my internet friends. You guys give me your time and your energy and that means so much to me. It really does.

I wouldn’t say my time in fandom has been 100% positive. There are always downfalls to being in a large group. I have had my moments of internet drama, on anon trolling, and bad feelings. But my friends make it all worth it. You guys are the best.

#fandom #fuck glee #merkintosh #lurkinmerkin #ask meme #anniversary

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strawberry-jules · 4 years

Text

the fourth

hi again. it’s 10:41pm.

today was a fucking shit show. like appallingly so. my schedule was supposed to roughly look like this:

6-7am: get up, get ready, go get coffee

8-9: vet appt

9-10: breakfast, clean the kitchen for mom

10-11: post office, quick target run

11.30-4pm: read 2 chapters from textbook

4-5.30: run, shower, etc

5.30-7.30: read half a chapter, take some me time, idk

9pm-11pm: vibe time baybee

here’s how it turned out, roughly.

got coffee, it was very fun. barista is making it very hard to not have a crush on them by simply existing. how rude! took belle to the vet, everything was fine and dandy, as i figured. came home, had a bagel with spinach and eggs, cleaned the kitchen, it was fantastic. my brother ended up needing to ship out his christmas gift to his friend in croatia, but his classes weren’t over until 1:30, so i was like no worries! i’ll just go study for my final till your classes are over, just let me know. i ended up reading absolutely nothing and getting sucked into whatever fucking dumb shit exists on the internet. i also picked 3 therapists from our network and emailed them, introducing myself, and asking for quick interviews next week to see if we’re good fits, because i want to start going to therapy.

i was very excited by this development. it’s taken me over a year of saying i would go to therapy for me to finally get the courage to reach out. at about 12, i went into my parents’ room and said “guess what? i’m finally starting therapy!” and my mother, without missing a beat, says “oh, sorry we did such a bad job raising you. why do you need therapy? i thought we did a great job.” i was fucking stunned. i was like, “woah, no! this isn’t a reflection of you. this is me finally taking care of myself, i have personal things i need to work through. however, i do think that therapy is useful to anyone, and i think everyone should try therapy, at least once,” to which she had the brilliant insight, “there’s nothing wrong with me. should i just make something up about my family and go talk to a stranger about it? is that what you’re doing?” and my dad was like, “hey, that’s not what she’s saying” and my mom basically went off saying that i was weird for thinking that everyone should try therapy, and that i didn’t actually need it, and that it’s weird that i’ve been to therapy twice now, wasn’t complaining to that high school counselor that my parents were so strict enough for me?

those quotes are as close to word for word as i can get, i’m pretty sure it’s exactly what was said. the conversation lasted less than a minute, before i said “i think i need to excuse myself,” and walked away. i came and sat at my desk for i don’t even know how long. i looked at myself in my phone camera, and my face had become so translucent, it was almost green from my blood veins. i walked up to my window and contemplated trying to take the screen out to climb out, but i realized that if i did jump, it would be in my neighbor’s driveway, and that felt really insensitive, so i walked away. i sat back down at my desk and contemplated all the reasons my mom was right, before i realized that she wasn’t right. i have finally realized that i’m not fine.

i’m a depressed, suicidal 20 year old with undiagnosed adhd and ocd, a diagnosed eating disorder, and i’ve been a closeted lesbian for 13 years. i have every right to feel not okay. i didn’t need my mother’s permission to go to therapy, i have my own health insurance and i’m an adult who feels the need to ask for help, and that’s okay.

so i did what i do best, and spewed verbal diarrhea onto my private snap story about what happened and how i’ve been feeling these last few days. my brother’s classes ended early, so i took the opportunity to leave the house as soon as possible, and we took as long as possible to get to the fedex drop box, before i dropped him back at home and kept driving around, trying to process how i felt. i didn’t return either of my textbooks. i think i’m just going to send the one i bought in october after christmas, idk when it’s due but i can’t deal with the fucking lines at the post office anymore. i walked up to the post office, looked at the winding line into a building where the lovely hicks in my hometown refuse to wear masks, decided i wasn’t ready to get covid yet, and went to deposit cash so i could buy weed. i’ll just bite the $40 and buy the one that was due today, maybe i’ll give it to someone next semester.

i got home and responded to my friends’ responses to my story. i got an overwhelmingly positive and loving response from my friends. every single one stuck up for me, supported me, and shared that they’ve been feeling similarly. which is heartbreaking, i can’t believe that all of us have been dealing with this so privately! but anyway, that’s a tomorrow issue.

after i did that, i was ordering my weed when barista texted me, saying they had a question for me, which, when you have a major crush on a coworker with a girlfriend, is a very concerning text to receive. turns out, they just made me earrings! they walked their dog to my house and delivered the insanely cool polymer clay snake earrings. when i greeted them with a hug, they pulled me in so close, literally every part of their body was pressed against mine and my cheek rested on their head so perfectly. they’re on the shorter side, probably 3-4 inches shorter than me, but so strong. the way their arms felt around my back was wild, it was so tight but so gentle but so firm but so, so warm and soft. their hair was soft but frizzy and smelled like them and a little bit like an argan oil shampoo and a little like coffee. their eyes are so much more intensely ice blue in the sun. they hugged me the same way goodbye, and we chatted for a good portion of the evening, about our coworkers and being homeschooled and being nerdy high schoolers and the earrings.

i finally got one chapter done before dinner was ready at 8:30pm, which is late, even by our standards. after dinner, as i was decorating a sugar cookie named gerard, my parents kept making snarky comments about me being a stoner, and i was like yes, bold statements coming from the parents that just used my account to buy a tincture and edibles. anyway, i came upstairs and tried to read more but i’m too emotionally exhausted. eve ended up giving me a call, finally, and filled me in on her life, which is always crazy but i love to hear her voice, so it’s okay. then i learned a tiktok dance, which left me concerningly out of breath, considering it’s only been like 4 days since i ran and i can’t be that out of shape? but i showered and did my skincare routine and made sure my laundry was in the dryer before i sat down to start this.

it’s now 11:20pm, and i’m very proud to report that i am no longer angry with my mother for what she said to me. i’m sad that it’s how she feels, but i recognize that what i’m going through is something she will never understand, as a straight woman who, while prudish, has a healthy relationship with drugs and sex. i love her, and i forgive her, but i’m going to talk to her tomorrow and hold her accountable for gaslighting her already unstable daughter. what she did wasn’t fair, and it hurt. i know she probably feels insecure because she definitely does have things she knows she should go to therapy for, i know for a fact that she faced a lot of childhood and adolescent trauma and i would personally love to make sure she’s in a healthy place with it. but i can’t force her to, obviously, so i have to just hope that she doesn’t project on to me too much in the coming weeks.

i’m exhausted, and i think i’ll go to bed. i feel good about how i handled today, i caught myself in time to think through my actions before i did something completely unwarranted and unhinged. i know that at the time, my brain was in flight mode and i couldn’t cope immediately so i just followed the “i want to die” instinct because it was the strongest, but i still had enough of my logical brain in gear to have forethought. look at you go, prefrontal cortex! knowing that the part of me that is still healthy and wants to live is strong enough to put the kibosh on that maneuver is enough to give me hope that i will be okay someday. i never thought that i would be someone to be experiencing things like this. i really thought that people were being dramatic, if i’m being totally honest. now that i’m experiencing it, i understand. i’m sorry that i didn’t have more empathy.

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jamiebedoinamossy · 4 years

Text

Weekly Wine

Hi, Y’all! It’s Jamie

Welcome to my little corner in the woods, grab your tea, if you’re coming back, hi hows it goin’ you goblin♡︎ it’s so good to see you again. So, it’s time for a weekly word blech, about the day and all the things during the past week. So, right now, I’ve got my gigantic hoodie after a noice shower and big honkin socks and girl in red in the headphones. Hot chocolate was made and it was delicious, it has yet to cool down and the marshmallows in it are doing a terminator(when he was sinking into the lava).

I’m super comfy right now, the couch is the best place in the world.

So my roommate just said that it looks like I’m planning to kill someone because my fACE, I have major RBF and I concentrate a lot when I write. Because I’m just such a great writer, even though im generally garbage shhhh dont tell anybody i said that.

Also, as you know, I’m not very expressive irl, and my whole thing was

Butttt, it was collectively decided upon that it was a bad idea so I’m telling a bunch of strangers on the internet about my inner monologue.

My roommate and I are going to watch a movie in the living room and the popcorn is at the ready, when we decide on one.

So, before the comments fill up, no we’re not dating chill out, ew, I hit him with my bike and we became best friends. He was TAKING PICTURES OF A SQUIRREL. AnYWAYS its been a few years, since we graduated and heckin moved to LA!

Anyway again, the backstory no one asked for, but I gave anyway, thank you for coming to my TED talk. So, my week, I have a date later this week, I’m super excited but at the same time I want to crawl in a hole and just fall asleep until forever, bUT I knOW it’s gonna be fun. We picked out a movie, we’re gonna go to the beach, and then have a picnic dinner. It’s gonna be amazing, I’m picking them up at their place, and they better not judge my yellow buggy, but like honestly they won’t they’re super sweet and are so cute and just generally really nice.

So yeah, the only thing that is not the best right now, is the hot cocoa is TOO hot, I think I said this before, but it’s still a problem.

So, we decided on a movie, My Octopus Teacher and my roommate cried, there was a point where (not to spoil anything, but major spoilers) that the octopus got straight up eaten by a shark. And like man, he was devastated, but the guy literally could do nothing without disturbing the circle of life. And he even explains how he wanted to help the octopus and I completely agree but, that would be disturbing nature and how things play out. That’s something that as a scientist and someone who studies creatures shouldn’t mess with.

I do feel bad that he didn’t just pick up the octopus and take her with him and just like adopt it in a way, because in the end, she died when she was too weak to do anything after a while taking care of her offspring. Do I feel that maybe he should have maybe given her food? Maybe. Do I feel that it also would have disrupted the cycle of nature? Yes. Do I care? No. I only care for the octopus. They are such amazing and smart creatures, you’d think they would have found a way to keep on living after offspring had been had. If I could breathe underwater, trust me you would never see me again, the day this tumblr threat ends is the day I have found a way to breathe underwater and have become a feral being of the depths.

Like, is it great? Sometimes, is it mostly bad and everything is rapidly going downhill? Yes. I have lived a big part of my life near the water, and literally one of the biggest things as to why we, well mY reasoning, was to be close to the ocean and do what I love, now that I have actually found out what I want to be doing with my time. But trust me, if I could explore the ocean and become a creature of the depths I 100% without a single thought of hesitation would. Although, the ocean is terrifying, but if I could breathe underwater, I would have almost nothing to be afraid of. Having a fast mode of transportation would also be extremely helpful. But also who wOULDN’T want to have a tail and fins and all that good stuff. I also wonder if in this complete fantastical situation, I would be affected by gigantism, would I grow to the size of a blue whale?

I saw in another tumblr post about a concept for mermaids that grow to the size of blue whales. Also can we address the fact that almost any mermaids that would live in shallow water would not be white, or skinny? Even deep sea dwelling mermaids would not be skinny, at those depths it is extremely cold.

Ok, but I honestly need to talk about this during my date, I wonder what kind of mermaid or siren they would be. I’m getting red vibes, because they’re a scorpio, but overall, I think they would make a pretty great one.

Also, can we appreciate that we are kind of a great match, because I’m a capricorn. So can we get all the capricorns to chear for a hot second.

Speaking of hot, the hot chocolate is no longer scalding is now the perfect temperature so I’m just going to sit here and enjoy my hot chocolate and the thunder storm outside. Also, the marshmallows have kind of become one with the hot chocolate and I honestly wouldnt have it any other way.

HERES IN MARSHMALLOW FLUFF WITH HOT CHOCOLATE, now that is something I need to invest in. With all my three dollars I will invest in this idea.

WHERE IS SHARK TANK WHEN YOU NEED IT!!1111!!!!111????1?1/?!?11?!1

Anyway thank you for reading my goblins, and if you didn’t, I completely understand, the ramblings of some weird internet person tends to not be the most interesting? Maybe. Thanks for enduring my wall of text ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

HAVE A LOVELY SATURDAY KISSES AND MOSS

#john mulaney #octopus #hot chocolate

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fanfictionlive · 5 years

Text

Trouble starting? Trouble finishing? Maybe some of this will help.

OK... first thing first... why the fuck should you pay ANY attention to this internet stranger?

Fuck if I know, maybe this’ll hurt your progress or maybe it will help, but there’s only one way to find out, and that’s to read on.

I don’t want to sound like a self aggrandizing, self promoting, arrogant cockbite, so I’ll leave aside the fandom that I write for and the stories I’ve written.

I’m also not going to tell you it’s the best thing since sliced bread. This is about actually PRODUCING SOMETHING... not making it masterful... that’s a whole other subject. If you already produce and you’re already great... this probably doesn’t help you, maybe you’re already doing some of it anyway.

Long story short, in terms of raw productivity I’ve produced... for one single overarching story, almost 2 million words since December of 2018. That is not counting stories not part of that main story, or original works. With those... it’s more. For a minimum word count of over 5,000 words a day, or just shy of 14 pages.

Again... you might like or not like the actual story of you read it... but this is about productivity.

Right about now you might be asking if I’m jobless or something. True that would explain it, but no.

I’m a 41 year old with a full time job and army reserve duty, I have 3 children the oldest of which is 17, a wife, and 6 dogs.

My days are pretty full. So what method let’s me produce this much?

OUTLINE. Most stories fail because the author has no idea what to do beyond the one kickass moment they envisioned. I have the utmost respect for those who write by the seat of their pants without more than a vague idea to guide them. But MOST people can’t do that and from what I’ve seen, most of those who can, shouldn’t.

Create a simple 3 act outline, then fill in the gaps between sections with key events and information, change what you need to, be flexible, an outline is a guide, not a sacred text.

Research, chances are something in your story will require knowledge you lack, so learn about it. That time spent learning will improve your story by making it ring true, it might even give you ideas to spice up your world building.

Music. Great idea, go to YouTube and type in mood of choice and ‘instrumental’. For example, ‘sad instrumental music’ the best stuff will stimulate the brain. Generally avoid vocals, the human voice is a distraction.

Speaking of which, avoid distractions for a bit, no YouTube except to change your music, and those have hours long playlist videos, no passive consumption of tv or movies etc.

Set a productivity goal and reach for it. My minimum is 3K words, most people do 500-1000, but there is nothing wrong with any of them. There is noting good or bad about either amount. It isn’t a competition.

Set a time for it, use it for that consistently until it is habit.

Community matters more than you think, find a positive creative environment, or make one if none exists. If someone or some group is just dickish about every creative effort, fuck em. Not saying get yesmen, but get a group of writers and editors that want each other to succeed.

See value in your own work, do readers laugh, cry, think, etc? Treasure that they value it and let that drive to contribute to your readers lives by writing more.

Ok that’s all, tried not to sound like a cocky fuck but... probably did anyway, alright, g’night and I hope this helps a free procrastinators.

submitted by /u/endersgame69 [link] [comments] from FanFiction: Where Magical Ponies battle Imperial Titans https://ift.tt/2O5k445

#fan fiction #writing #fanfiction #tv show #series #movie #fan #write

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moreracquetball · 7 years

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Would I be able to commission you for writing works? Like pay you to write fics? If not that's totally fine but I want you to know that your work is amazing and I would absolutely pay to read it or get my own story written by you, it'd be a privilege, honestly.

Wow, I’m honored! The fact that you think my writing is good enough to be paid for is so flattering and overwhelming!!

To answer your question: no. But I have reasons.

Of course, there’s a irl reason why not (I don’t have a paypal, and I can’t really go up to my mom like “heyyy can i have your permission to enter my debit/credit info for a paypal so strangers from the internet can pay me for services?” like - that would not go over well, and it’d just be added stress for me even if I went and got one anyway without telling her because I would always be scared she’d ask me “where did you get this money” since I don’t have a job). It would be weird and awkward and stressful because it’d have to be a “secret” from my family and friends, and it’s fine that my writing is a secret because that doesn’t intersect with real life but a sudden burst in money might be questioned and it would make me extra paranoid and uncomfortable.

There’s also much bigger reasons that might seem really pretentious, eye-roll-y of me but it’s the truth:

1) I don’t want this to be a job. For my circumstances right now, in the headspace that I am in, at this point in time: writing is a coping mechanism for me when I am feeling sad/distressed/stressed/anxious. It is a coping mechanism because it just wholly belongs to me and there are no strings attached to it and what I write/when I write/how much I write is always up to me (with the exception of the writing raffle I’m doing, but that is just an isolated, learning experience for me as a writer in order to see if I would ever be able to meet someone else’s instructions/prompt on a deadline). Writing is very personal to me (esp right now), and if I make it a commodity up to the highest bidder, that personal, stress-free experience would be taken from me. Because then I would have customers to please and expectations to uphold and deadlines to meet and prompts that are fine but not exactly my taste, and writing would not be a coping mechanism anymore and rather just another source of stress.

2) Also, I want my writing to be free for everyone, you know? I don’t want there to be a “premium package” of my writing or a “if you want to be a super fan of me and want a prompt filled, you have to pay because my writing is so great and not for free” air to myself. I don’t want my writing to turn into a commodity where I only fill prompts for the fans who have money because it alienates the fans that want that connection and in-put to the fandom but don’t have anything to “give me” in return. It would create a hierarchy within the community and it’d intimidate people that want a prompt filled but don’t have the money to pay me, which would then lead to them just not requesting/asking. I don’t want to elevate myself to a point where I am more than just a fan of a musical, that I am somehow “better” than any other writer in this or any fandom who just accepts prompts without payment. I just feel like it would really isolate me from others and would make me seem even more intimidating. It would really disconnect me from the general fan experience of sharing work and inspiration.

To put it all simply: I don’t want my participation in this fandom to become a business.

So I really appreciate the request because it was very polite and flattering, but commissions just don’t interest me at this moment in time. I am not financial unstable for that money to be in dire need, and I just feel like commissions would do more harm than good in my own personal experience and point of view. I’m not saying that commissions are inherently selfish and evil: It’s more than fine and absolutely incredible that other creators (writers, artists, etc) do commissions. I think that it is really great that people are getting paid to do things that they love and had been willing to do for free. Maybe one day, I myself will want to do commissions as well - but not today.

But anon: if you want a prompt filled, literally just send me an ask with a prompt. I can’t guarantee that I will accept it or will make it as long as you want it or have it finished in a timely manner (these are all just examples of worst-case scenarios - I’m usually pretty punctual and efficient with this kind of stuff), but I will try to give it a shot at the very least. I actually love requests and I love filling prompts and I love making other fans happy and excited about a musical/characters that I am also very happy and excited about. No payment required - just ask me.

But say, what if you just want to support me, you know? Well, there are other ways that you can support any creator that doesn’t include financial payment:

- Feedback!! Reviews, direct messages, asks - just tell the creator how much you liked that thing that they did and be as specific as possible. It takes little out of your day to tell a creator how much you enjoyed their stuff, and even if your compliments are short and offhanded, they always mean the world to that creator. Simple rule: if you like the thing, tell the creator. I myself read every single review of my fics (usually re-read them more than twice, tbh), and they always mean so much. There are never “too many” reviews to a thing - I don’t care if that thing already has 999 reviews/comments/kudos/asks. You should still write at least a little short review thanking that creator for creating something that you have enjoyed.

- Spread it, share it, tell others about it. You like the thing? Hey, you should tell others how much you like this thing and give it to them so they can also read/see/listen/watch this thing and appreciate it as well. Make posts about it, link it to friends - just let other people have knowledge and access to it so that creator’s work can continue to grow.

- Take inspiration from that creator’s work and create something of your own. It can be a graphic, an edit, an artwork, a mood board, an aesthetic, a playlist, a song, a poem, a video, a fic - just create something inspired by that creator’s something and tag/send it to them. I know from experience that receiving fan art that it is such an incredible feeling to see someone else be inspired and appreciative of something you created! It is sooo flattering and overwhelming, and creators like this shit a lot.

This was wayyyy too long of a response for such a simple, polite question but I just wanted to make my stance clear and my reasons sound and my points well-articulated. Thanks so much for this ask, and I hope you have a wonderful day!

#yikes i got a little preachy at the end sorry about that #and my points probably sound stupid and self-serving and uppity #even though that is the opposite of my intention #but it's something i feel strongly about and i wanted to make things clear #but umm heyy thanks for the ask i loved it it made me feel really validated #ask

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thisolddag · 7 years

Text

Is 11 the New 13?

Newsflash. It’s not.

Last night, my sons went to an old-fashioned baseball game at the local college. They went with a group of eight kids, ranging from ages seven to eleven, chaperoned by their awesome principal. I allowed my older son to take his new iPhone - which he’d had gotten the day before - with the explicit instructions that he was not to take it out of his pocket unless he felt it vibrating - I might text him to make sure all was well. That’s what we got it for anyway - aside for his terrific grades and his ‘graduating’ from elementary school - it was for communicating with us as we loosen the reins. He happily agreed to my baseball game rule. My son knows how I feel about the iPhone. He knows it’s to be used as a tool to help him become more independent in the real world and not as a way to immerse and isolate himself in a cyber one. “We will use it for good.” Researching school projects? Playing fun games as a way to unwind? FaceTimeing with Daddy or with family out-of-state? Taking cool photos to chronicle memories? Check, check, check. But it will not be used to suck time, or to comment on strangers’ comments, or to post said pics. Most importantly, social media will be off limits.

He got it.

Maybe he got it because I left no room for negotiation.

Our home computer is linked to his new iPhone. I was on it, writing, while he was at the game, when I noticed a slew of texts coming in from the fifth grade class thread he’s on. Just silly, dumb tweeny messages that a few boys were sending on a Thursday night. After a while I noticed my son joined in, with a single reply. “At a Jackal’s game.” I frowned. I told myself he must’ve felt the phone buzzing and checked to see if it was me. Fine. That was all fine. And then I noticed the immediate response from one of his friends. “The Jackals suck!”

And then the texts kept coming.

“Boring!” “That field is trash!” “BORING BORING BORING”

With each incoming text, my stomach dropped. What was this? This instinct to knock something down so fast? Was it innocent ‘trash-talk’? Or was I looking at future trolls in the making?

I’m proud to say that my son did not further engage - aside from sending a short video and a pic of him and the team mascot, as he was leaving the ballpark. Which we later discussed - how he could’ve sent that photo when he got home. How he should have sent it then. How we aren’t gonna start bending the rules so early on in the game. How you have to be in the experience as it’s happening & not worry about posting the experience. Etc etc. But for the most part, he had passed his first test. The test to resist.

HERE’S THE DEAL

Unlike dabbling in drugs, drinking, smoking, sex, or any other urges teenagers are drawn to, which have been around for ages - social media is a whole new thing we have to contend with as parents. There is no hindsight or personal experience to fall back on. And we have no idea how it will affect our young children.

I got my first BlackBerry at the tender age of 30. There are days when, as a 40-year-old, all the Internet chatter, all the Instagram comments, the Twitter feed vitriol, get to me, trip me up, make me doubt myself, and fill me with frustration and anger. I can’t imagine being so young and having to deal with all that. During childhood, the extent of my social life was delegated to whispery phone calls in my room until my father shouted for me to hang up. Or hanging out with a bunch of friends outside my apartment building, until my mother yelled through the window for me to get my butt home. My burgeoning confidence had nothing to do with the amount of “followers” I had, or how many “likes” I received. And the bullies in my life had to insult me to my face and were not allowed the luxury of doing it anonymously from the comfort of their little device.

I’ve heard parents say - in our quaint, progressive town - that they can’t keep up, that it’s kids these days, that it’s just the way it is. I don’t buy it. We have to be as invested as we say we are - especially when it comes to this stuff. How can we be supportive, even coddling, how can we be round-the-clock cheerleaders and advocates for our children’s well-being - and not bother to check their text history, or their google searches, and not bother to put restrictions on their devices? Not doing so sends a dangerous mixed-message. I will fold your laundry, and help you with your homework and buy you clothes you want, and get you anything you need because you are still small and innocent - but when you’re on that phone, you’re on your own.

WHAT IS THAT?

I tell my son - perhaps you’ve earned the right to have a device, but earning the right to have privacy is a whole other deal. He knows I go through his phone every day, and he has no problems with it. I am not taking away anything from him by being privy to his online goings-on. In fact, I am keeping him safe. He has to earn my trust, and he has to keep earning it.

Do chores, be a good example for your younger brother, be kind, be accepting of others, study hard, show respect, read, don’t be afraid to ask questions, be confident in your passions and your convictions, know how to say no, know how to go without, how to wait - and then we can talk about private accounts. But only when you’re thirteen. :)

I highly doubt that the parents who allow their ten or eleven year old child unfettered access to the Internet, would allow them to smoke pot, watch porn, have a beer or go on an unchaperoned date, or even walk to town without a phone in their pocket. The smart phone in our child’s hand holds the whole world. And at 10, 11, 12 - our children are not ready for the whole world. They’re simply not. Until our children are old enough to navigate the real world, they must be supervised when in the cyber one.

I am not afraid to say no. I am not afraid to say because I said so. Sometimes that’s all you get when you’re 11 and you’re still trying to figure out who you are, how you’re perceived, what impact you have, or when you cry because you lose a game of Clash of Clans. And it’s ok if you cry. You’re still learning how to articulate your feelings, learning how to deal with being a kid. And we talk. We talk all the time, about many things I would not have dreamed of talking about with my parents at this age. But he knows I am there for him - I will try to answer any questions he has, as age-appropriately and as honestly as I can. There’s a certain innocence that I’m trying to nurture here. My son is a sweet boy at heart and I want to keep it that way for as long as possible. But that means there’s a job I have to do. Because it is a job - a duty, as much as it is a right - to raise my son to be a decent human being. With or without a phone in his pocket.

This morning, as I was working up an emotional sweat relaying the baseball game anecdote to my friend, she turned to me with a kind smile and said “It’s only day three…Pace yourself, Dag.” She’s right. In the fall comes middle school and who knows what middle school will bring to the table. It’s like saying I’m a good driver - but there are other drivers on the road. A crash can happen, even when you’re doing everything you should be. That’s life.

Parenting is taking a leap of faith every single day. The rules we set forth and the boundaries we place on our children are done so in the hopes that its’ all for their good. That one day they’ll understand the thought process behind our reasoning. Until that day comes, I’m prepared to put up a fight. I will fight for the right to protect my child while allowing him certain responsibilities and rewards that will carve the road toward his independence.

It’s a delicate dance, and a complicated one, and I’m sure there will be days where I will epically fall flat on my ass. But I will get up, and dust myself off, and keep at it. For my own sake. And most especially, for his.

#social media #parenting #boundaries #sons

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