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#do you have to go through the entire computer
extemts · 6 hours
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im BEGGING for some joost hurt to comfort!! something like hes having a bad day and when the reader tries to help him hes js so overwhelmed he snaps at the reader but like in the end they make up and stuff
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Valentine, my decline is so much better with you.
I love love love hurt to comfort!! This goes hand in hand with another request I had! That being said, go give your loved ones a hug and tell them you love them. requested? yes! reader? gender neutral! genre? hurt to comfort, arguing, eventual fluff
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
"Fuck!"
The cursing coming from the other end of your apartment today couldn't be counted on both hands anymore. Joost was two days away from releasing a single he wasn't even happy with as of now.
A few months ago you decided to finally move in together and since both of you had rather stable jobs, looking for an extra room to get your boyfriend a studio at home made sense. It gave him the chance to really focus on his music at a a place he felt comfortable at, and on top he could always ask for your opinion on something, if you weren't currently at work, where you wish you would be at right now. You decided to only take a short shift today, wanting to get home and relax, but your boyfriend had been tense the whole day, which you really didn't blame him for, but you knew he was a perfectionist when it came to his music. He had a bad habit of being rather unresponsive whenever he was really focusing on his work, meaning a tab on the shoulder while he had loud music blaring through his headphones, with his computer screen being a mess of snippets and recordings for a song, it would totally send him over the edge of sensory overload. Today was one of those days where it seemed really bad for him. He fed himself into a hole of hating a perfectly good, soon to be released, single and now he was stuck in a loophole of fixing things that didn't need to be fixed, being satisfied with them, and then when listening to it again, suddenly hating the entire thing. You have tried to offer him your help or comfort several times today, but he always declined it, yet seemed grateful for your care. It got so bad that you had to pull his chair out of the room for him to come eat dinner with you, and only if you could eat while laying on the couch so he could cuddle with you, which he desperately needed today.
You were in no way upset with him or this situation, at least not for the reasons one might be, but instead the fact that he had promised both himself and you to stop listening to upcoming releases three days prior to the date they were supposed to come out, because that was the time where his brain decided to convince him half of what he just created over months was absolute shit. There was nothing you could really do to help him, except make sure he at least remembered his basic needs like eating and sleeping.
You tried to calm yourself down and try not to worry too much about him, taking a deep breath before you heard anything curse word coming from his studio, followed by a loud shatter, and rather quiet whimpers which convinced you to go check on him one more time. When you opened the door you managed to figure out what happend- he knocked over a glass and it seemed to have cut his finger just a little. "Hun, are you okay? Let me help you." you quickly grab a few tissues to place on his finger as you tried to calm him down but he seemed to have been pushed over the edge completely with this. "I don't need your help! I told you, I dont want help, I don't need it, I am perfectly fine! Please just stop interrupting me for fucks sake." the first thing he said to you in hours and its you getting yelled at for trying to help the poor overworked man? You throw the rest of the tissues at Joost for him to care for his own issues now. "Deal with it yourself." you ended up leaving him right where we was, trying to hold back tears as you let yourself fall onto your bed, wanting to scream into the nearest pillow. This wasn't a side you knew from him, because he really never got mad at you. As much as you wanted not to have to blame him, this was beyond unnecessary.
The tears start flowing, your hands clutched against the pillow as you curl up on your side of the bed. You weren't necessarily crying about being yelled at, you were a tough one afterall, but more so the fact that he worries you so much and what you get for offering help ends up being disrespect.
You were barely even awake a few hours later, having spent the evening by scrolling through various social media apps just to distract yourself. Right when you decided to stop waiting for your boyfriend and head to sleep, you felt the dip in the mattress next to you, meaning Joost had decided to finish for today. He turns arond to face you, or more so your back, to carefully brush some hairs out of your face, allowing you to feel the new bandaid on his finger. "Sweetheart, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have yelled at you." he eventually huffed, his voice quiet enough not to disturb you, even though you clearly weren't asleep. His voice was raspy, barely even audible- maybe from crying, maybe from recording vocals all day. Slowly, you turn back around to face him, your hands holding onto the blanket. "I got lost in the single and broke our promise. You just wanted to help but I was so overwhelmed and then it just all tipped over- I'm really sorry." Joost rubs his eyes as he finishes his sentence, the tear stains quite obvious on his face. You only wrap your arms around him to pull yourself close to him, feeling the need for being close. "It was unnecessary but it happens to everyone some times... Thank you for apologising."
With that, you fell victim to being covered in kisses.
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JOOOOST IS BAAAAACK
anyways i hope this was good xoxo
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vodika-vibes · 24 hours
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okay this follower event is intriguing so I’mma try something👀 okay so. I’m thinkin about an Apocalypse AU with Fox. romance for the genre because you know it gotta be romance with Foxy, & girl you can go WILD with the plot, I give you free reign. unless you don’t want free reign, I can just send another ask. but for now BE FREE🦅
Woe To The People
Summary: According to everything you read as a child, the end of the world was supposed to be the end of the story. It’s a shame that none of the stories tell what happens to the people left behind.
Pairing: Commander Fox x F!Reader
Word Count: 2230
Prompt: Apocalypse AU
Warnings: None
Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly
A/N: You said be free, and so I was free. You know how in some farming sims, the end of the world happened, and then people have to recover. That's what this is. I could have gone with apocalypse heavy, but I wanted to do apocalypse light. Please let me know if you don't like it. The title came from a CamiCat song called Woe To The People Of The Order. Also, I'm limited on how long I can sit at the computer right now. I...hurt my foot pretty badly and I can't elevate it properly from the computer, lol.
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You were a child when the world ended.
You were barely 9 summers old on the day that the blue sky burned red, and acid fell from the sky. You managed to find shelter in a skyscraper, climbing higher and higher up the building as the acid water flooded the rivers and the streets.
And you refused to leave, even when the other people you were seeking shelter with did.
It took almost a week for the flood waters to recede. A week where you survived off of snacks and soda from the vending machines. A week where you didn’t have anyone to talk to, where all you could do is watch the burning sky through darkened windows and watch the flood waters slowly recede.
There was no internet, no TV, and your only source of information came from a small battery powered radio you found in the janitor’s closet. And it was from there that you learned what was going on.
You learned about the natural disasters that ravaged the world. Massive wildfires that raged for days, floods powerful enough to wash away buildings, sinkholes opening in places where it shouldn’t be possible, earthquakes destroying entire cities, storm systems creating tornadoes in countries that have never had one before.
And when the flood waters receded enough for you to leave the building, you ran home. Though you already knew what you were going to find when you arrived. Your home destroyed, completely flooded out, and your family, like every other family in your neighborhood, lay dead.
Burned almost beyond recognition.
At barely 9 years old, this should have been the end of your story. You were not big enough to fend for yourself, haven’t learned enough about the way the world works to even consider it.
But you’ve always been lucky.
Several days later, after returning to the sky scraper because where else could you go, a survivor found you.
A firefighter, to be specific.
His name was Jango Fett, and he told you about the safe haven that his family set up, where they have food, clean water, and doctors. He praised you for surviving as long as you did on your own, calling you clever and resourceful as he scooped you into his strong arms and carried you down the stairs and to the massive fire engine that somehow survived the floods.
He passed you up to another man, who settled you on top of the engine and offered you a proper sandwich while he covered you with a reflective blanket, and murmured assurances that you’re going to be fine, that everything’s going to be okay.
There were fewer survivors than you expected, as men and women trek out of the nearby buildings in groups of two or three.
And then you heard Jango call out that that’s everyone, and the truck started to move, slowly pushing through the debris covering the roads. Miles, the firefighter looking after you, adjusted the blanket so you couldn’t see the bodies strewn across the road.
Jango brought the survivors to the Mereel Compound, a massive group of buildings set up on top of, and around, a dam. The reservoir was empty, and Miles explained that the reservoir had been emptied before the flood, so you had nothing to worry about.
After that, you were sent to a creche, a place for young children to receive the care and education they needed to be productive members of society. Of course, the education was a bit different than what you were used to. But at the same time, you realized that you probably didn’t need to know what a noun was in this new reality of yours.
So you settled yourself in to learn what you needed to survive in this new world.
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It’s been over a decade since the day the world ended, and very little has changed. Oh, sure, there haven’t been any other massive storms since the original ones, but it’s still a struggle to survive.
Enough of a struggle, that you had to move out of the Mereel Compound. You ended up in a building that used to be a mall. And, with help from other young people, you managed to turn it into something like an apartment complex.
Your job in the complex is to ensure that the water wheel, which provides electricity to the homes here, remains in working order.
It’s not a hard job, but it is a very physical job.
In fact, that’s what you’re currently working on. With a thick pair of gloves to protect you from the acid that lingers in the water. The filters do a good job in making sure that most of the acid doesn’t make it this far, but they’re not perfect.
The water needs to go through a seven point treatment before it can be ingested safely. Luckily, over the last decade, the survivors did manage to perfect that technology.
You look up as the door to the water room clicks open, “How’s are the water wheels?” A voice asks from the door. It’s a voice you’re intimately familiar with, seeing as it belongs to your boyfriend.
“In perfect working order,” You reply as you straighten, and stretch your arms over your head to work the knots out of your back, “I’m probably going to have to take water wheel 3 out of commission for a couple of hours to replace a part, but I want to have all of the parts on hand before I start.”
You turn to face Commander Fox properly.
Commander Fox is one of Jango’s many children, and is the man responsible for this complex. He’s a fine leader, you think, quick thinking and decisive. Not to mention protective of the people under his care.
He’s also the love of your life, so you might be biased.
“It’s not like you to check on the water wheels personally,” You note lightly as you pull your gloves off and set them in the solution that keeps the acid from eating through them, “Something wrong?”
“Thorn is ill, so I took his route.”
“That’s unfortunate,” You murmur, “Nothing serious, I hope?”
“Just a stomach bug, but better to isolate him rather than risk everyone else getting sick.” Fox allows, he moves to the side as you step out of the room, before he follows you and waits for you to lock the door behind you, “You haven’t seen anything unusual lately, have you?”
“In what way?”
He folds his arms over his broad chest, “I got a message from Wolffe-”
“From the forest compound?” You ask, after thinking a moment.
“Yeah, apparently there have been raids on the compound, and I’m...concerned.”
“Raids? All of the Compounds from the desert to the mountains belong to the Mereel/Fett clan.”
“Hence my concern.” Fox rolls his shoulders and for a moment you see just how exhausted he is, “Cody’s putting together a group to investigate, but if there are raiders out there-” He exhales sharply through his teeth.
He doesn’t need to put word to his worry.
You’re hardly stupid, your expertise with water and the filtration system makes you valuable. And a target for anyone with malignant motives.
“I’m giving you a guard detail.” Fox says, “And restricting your movements to within the compound.” He drops his hand from the back of his neck, “Your apartment is on a wall, isn’t it?”
“It is.”
He sighs heavily, and you feel guilty for a moment. But then, you didn’t ask for a wall apartment, you were assigned it. “It’s fine, you can crash in my room.”
“That’s hardly proper, Commander.” You tease lightly.
“Your safety is more important to me than propriety.” Fox counters, completely serious, “The alternative is sending you back to the Mereel Compound.”
“Please don’t.”
He chuckles, “That’s what I thought.” He motions for you to follow him, and you easily fall into step next to him, and he glances at you out of the corner of his eye, “Besides, it’s not like you’ve never crashed in my apartment before. Or even in my bed.”
You elbow him, “This situation is a bit different, Fox. There isn’t a small difference between me sleeping with you because your my boyfriend, and me sleeping in your apartment because I need a protective detail.”
He leads you through the bustling halls, and you feel a soft surge of delight when you see that the market is bustling with activity. Only a few years ago, this scene would have been impossible.
How far you’ve all come since the world ended.
Fox’s hand on your elbow encourages you to keep moving, as he guides you through the winding streets, until he unlocks the door to his apartment.
Fox’s apartment is bigger than all of the other apartments in the compound, with good reason, as a whole quarter of the room is filled with the computers that connect him with his brothers, and father. Not to mention the dozens of outposts that dot the country.
He shuts the door on the working half of his apartment and leads you to the living half of his apartment.
And you immediately head to the window, peering out at the red sky and over the wall that separated the compound from the wildlife. You hear some movement behind you and you turn to watch Fox remove his armor.
It’s leather mostly, reminding you of the old westerns your dad used to watch when he was still alive. Still, it offers a fair amount of protection against anyone who might want to hurt him, so you’re happy he has it.
He focuses his gaze on you, and a smile, soft and warm, graces his tired face. “Do you have any idea how stunning you look when you’re framed by the sky?”
Your face heats, and you turn away from him, “You’ve mentioned it once or twice.”
He laughs softly and walks over to you, his arms sliding around your waist, “Then I clearly need to tell you more often.”
You face him again, your hands settling lightly against his chest and smoothing the thin shirt he wears under his uniform, “I know you think it, Foxy.” You tease, “I know you, after all.”
Slowly he leans in and presses his forehead against yours, his gaze locked with your own. “You know, you could just move in with me. That would make everything easier.”
“We’ve had this conversation-”
“And you never think I’m serious, but I am. I want you to move in with me.”
“Ask me again after this crisis.” You counter.
Fox sighs and lifts his hands to cup your face, “We’re not guaranteed tomorrow, angel. Especially with the way the world is. We need to take what happiness we can when we can.”
“And what if you change your mind-” You start.
“Never. I will never change my mind. I love you. I’ve loved you since we were kids in the creche and you were that bossy little girl who told me that I was wearing my jacket wrong. I loved you when we were teenagers and you had your heart broken by my brother and I was your shoulder to cry on. I’m not going to stop loving you. Ever.”
You’re quiet for a moment, and then you huff, “I was not a bossy little girl.”
“You were so bossy. It was adorable. It’s why I went along with it.”
You pout at him, and he grins at you, looking young and boyish in his delighted amusement, “Fine. I’ll move in with you, but only because you’re being pathetic about it.”
“I can live with that.” He agrees, before ducking his head just enough to catch your lips with his.
You lean into the kiss, intent to deepening it, to fan the flames of passion, when there’s a loud chime from the other room, and he breaks the kiss with a sigh. He tilts his head to the bed, and murmurs an instruction to get comfortable, before he releases you.
A giggle falls from your lips as you sit on his bed to wait for him. You watch him walk into the next room and you watch, through the open doors, as he reads something on the computer.
And you watch as tension lances through his body.
“Fox? What’s wrong?”
“Cody found the raiders,” Fox replies from his work room, you get to your feet and walk over to him, “Apparently they’re not raiders. They were informed that you, and several other people who are in charge of food, water, and power were being held against your will.”
“Who are they?” You ask, offended that anyone would think something so poorly of the men who saved you.
“They call themselves Jedi. They’re demanding to meet you and the others.” Fox scowls, “Cody doesn’t think we should do it, he says it stinks like a trap. Dad says that we should, but we should meet in a neutral place. He says that survivors need to stick together.”
“And...what do you think?”
“I think I want you to stay safe, but if this is the best option…” He trails off and then turns and pulls you into a kiss.
You sigh into the kiss, melting under his skilled touch.
“I promise,” He breathes against your lips, “No one will ever hurt you.”
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gbirrd · 21 days
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Adobe stop forgetting where my files are when they're on my memory pen and i just plugged into a different computer challenge
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mkstrigidae · 23 days
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APWH preview snippet!
Since I'm actively trying to work on getting the next few chapters out, I thought I'd share a little future scene with some hints of Jonsa with all you lovely people! This bit is from like, a few chapters in the future bc it's the in-between that's giving me fits right now :) (Fair warning: this is unedited and subject to change! That being said, it's such a fun scene that I can't imagine ever nixing it :D)
“Does he even know that they have to avoid the press?”
“For the last time-“ Sam sighed, sounding completely exasperated, “Dickon knows what they can and can’t do- he’s got enough practice not being photographed from when our dad was the secretary. Not to mention spending time around you when that exposé on your crazy grandfather came out two years ago.”
“I just-“ Jon sighed, blowing a stray curl out of his face. “You didn’t see how freaked out she was when the press caught us at that performance in White Harbor. I thought she was going to have a full-blown panic attack.”
He was immediately derailed by Gilly plopping little Sam down in his lap and shoving a bottle into his hands.
“What’s this all about?” he raised a brow, adjusting the baby on his lap, allowing him to latch onto the cuff of his flannel shirt and start gnawing at the fabric. “You going somewhere?”
Gilly shot him a withering look, but he saw the amusement in her eyes.
“I-“ she gestured, imperiously, “Have not had time by myself to shower all week-“
“Sorry, love.” Sam winced, looking up from his pile of paperwork. “I can take a break from these-“
“Not your fault, Sam.” she waved him off. “You warned me about this conference at the beginning of the summer.” a grin played at the corners of her mouth. “Besides, it works out well- Jon needs a distraction right now from the fact that Sansa’s on a date with your extremely hot and conventionally attractive brother.”
“Hey!” Sam looked wounded, and Gilly rolled her eyes, pressing a kiss to his forehead.
“You know you’re my favorite Tarly.” she wrinkled her nose. “How long have you been working on this presentation? You smell like the baby spit up on you.”
“Guess I’m next in line for showers.” Sam said, mournfully. “Unless-“
“Nope- I need my own time right now, Samwell. Did you even hear what I said about why Jon’s bent out of shape?”
Jon had known Gilly since Sam and she had met up north while the two of them were in college. Sometimes, it was hard to reconcile the timid, scared girl she had been with the woman who was currently devoting all of her remaining energy to busting his balls.
“Don’t tell me you’re worried about Sansa with my brother.” Sam snorted, shotgunning another cup of coffee next to him the way Jon was used to seeing undergrads do with jaeger shots. “I mean, this is Dickon we’re talking about. Used to bring wounded animals home to take care of them Dickon? The same guy who cried when we had movie night and Gilly and Rhae wanted to go see ‘Love, Simon’?” He shook his head. “Look, as far as guys she could be out on a date with right now go, Dickon’s kind of the best case scenario. She’ll have a nice time, and he’ll be a perfect gentleman.”
Jon blinked at him, silently turning to look up at Gilly, who rolled her eyes and sighed.
“You’re hopeless, sweetie.” she kissed him on the forehead again, wrinkling her nose. “He’s not worried that things will go wrong- he’s worried they’ll go a little too well.”
“You’ve been spending way too much time around my sister.” Jon muttered, narrowly avoiding little Sam’s grasping reach for his glasses, managing to get the baby to latch onto the bottle before he destroyed any more of Jon’s eyewear. “You even sounded like her just then.”
Sam blinked for a second, his head whipping between Jon and Gilly.“You’re jealous?” He asked, incredulously. “Of Dickon? Wait- you like Sansa?”
“Got there in the end.” Gilly sighed, affectionately patting him on the shoulder before going to shower, leaving Jon and Sam behind with four cups of coffee, one baby, and approximately five brain cells total between the two of them.
“You like her.” Sam repeated, like it was a giant revelation.
“What are we- in middle school?” Jon hissed, immediately turning his head down to smile and make faces at little Sam while he fed him, before glaring up at big Sam again. “I don’t- I mean-“
Sam was just shaking his head.“Of course you do.” he laughed. “Should have guessed- red hair and a damsel in distress? You were doomed from the outset.”
“Shut up.” Jon muttered, flushing. “It’s not like that.”
“Then why are you worrying about Dickon for fu-“ Sam glanced nervously at the baby, “-god’s sake? When Gill was meeting my family for the first time, I remember you told her not to worry- that my brother was ‘one of the best guys you know’ and ‘practically a golden retriever’.”
Jon could tell that Sam, who could not raise one eyebrow without the other, was desperately trying to do just that.
“I don’t know.” He muttered, moving little Sam to his shoulder to start burping him. “Look- I’m attracted to her, alright? It’s a fu- er, a giant disaster that I’m gonna ignore for the rest of my life.”
“Seriously?”
“Stop trying to do that with your eyebrows.” Jon complained. “It’s giving me motion sickness. And yes, seriously. I’m not even going to consider that- it’s just a stupid crush. Besides,” he sighed, rubbing little Sam’s back comfortingly, “Robb’s already dealing with enough right now with this whole Sansa situation- can’t imagine telling him I think his sister’s attractive while he’s being forced to suddenly confront all of his guilt and self loathing every time he looks at her.”
“That whole bro code thing of never dating your friend’s sisters never really made sense to me.” Sam shook his head, gulping down more coffee. “I mean, I’d be thrilled if you decided to date Talla, because I know you’d be good to her.”
“Yeah, don't think she'd quite go for that, mate.” Jon snorted, standing to bounce little Sam around gently. He was just grateful Sam hadn’t said anything else about Robb.
“Eh, wouldn’t count you out completely.” Sam shrugged, smirking. “With that hair, you’re pretty enough to be a girl- maybe that’d be enough for her.”
“You are so lucky i’m holding the baby.” Jon muttered, still bouncing little Sam, who picked that moment to spit up spectacularly down Jon’s back.
“Well, that’s three of us who’re gonna need showers now.” Sam grinned, looking thrilled as all get out that it hadn’t been him. “Wow- his aim is getting better.”
“I’m going to remind him of this when he’s a sulky teenager.” Jon grumbled, wiping spit-up off his shoulder as best he could. “Look- no gossiping with Rhae about this, please. She thinks she’s such a good clandestine agent that she doesn’t always realize that Robb is better at sniffing out her plots than she thinks.”
“Alright-“ Sam sighed, looking back down at the massive stack of paperwork in front of him. “I make no promises for Gill, though.”
“Gilly could give some of my Uncle’s colleagues at the WIA a run for their money when it comes to withstanding interrogation.” Jon snorted.
“Probably true.”
“Where did your brother take Sansa?” Still holding onto a now much happier baby with one hand, he reached down the other to take a gulp of his own coffee.
“He said something about going out towards the Tyrell Estate.” Sam shrugged. “They probably drove out there to see the gardens- he’s said it’s a good road to take his bike out on.”
Jon promptly spat out his entire sip of coffee, staining the front of his shirt as well as the back, and frightening little Sam enough that he started to cry.
“He took her on his motorcycle?”
Gilly picked that moment to reappear, completely clean and with wet hair, blinking at the scene in front of her.
Sam, who couldn’t seem to stop laughing, was desperately trying to calm down the baby, who had started wailing, while Jon’s entire front was covered in coffee and his entire back was covered in baby vomit. Not that he seemed to notice, as his face was white and he was making a series of angry looking hand gestures at her husband.
“I really can’t leave you three alone for five minutes, can I?” she sighed. “Do I even want to know?”
#my writing#my wips#writing wips#just APWH things#jonsa#fanfiction wip#God bless Gilly like for real#YES Sansa is on a date with someone else here#muscleman golden retriever McAttractiveness#Aka dickon tarly#unsurprisingly jon is not having a great time about it!#in fairness to sansa the plotline directly preceding this and kicking off her doing some traveling was pretty rough on her#so our poor girl really deserves a giant muscley golden retriever with a motorcycle#and to just have a good time with someone who isn't wrapped up in all the stark drama/disaster/mess etc.#jon can deal with it rn bc it's really a 'you snooze you lose' kind of situation#sam's usually quicker on the draw but he's very sleep deprived here#and working on some stuff for a pathology conference#not at all going to be relevant nope no sir#writing sam and jon interacting vs jon and robb is so fascinating#they're both jon's besties but there's a very different dynamic to the two relationships#in fairness Robb has like SO much complex childhood trauma and is kind of seriously going through it right now#but his scenes with jon always have this sort of darker edge to them#like an 'i've known you my entire life and know everything about you for better or worse' type deal- deeper but darker#it's more akin to a sibling relationship? but also not? they are both going thru it#my headcanon is that anytime jon starts getting too gloomy and angsty gilly just straight up shoves the baby at him#and then waits like twenty minutes#Gilly: 'it's free babysitting!'#generally it works pretty well#jon's like '404 error does not compute' as soon as sam says the word 'motorcycle'#also when sam says 'the secretary' he means randyll tarly was the secretary of defense
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arthur-r · 1 month
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as usual i am up late into the night planning my future when i should be: getting a good nights sleep so that i even have a future!!
#i have work in seven and a half hours. so i should really be getting to bed#BUT i officially made my final definitive degree plan!!!! i mean not the actual classes but all the requirements i have to meet and how!!#(in order to earn: history and information science double major. with certificates in material culture and classics)#and i’m genuinely excited for every single class i have to take except for human-computer interaction#just cause i know it’s gonna get overly technical in ways that won’t quite apply to my future#anyway every single other thing i’m gonna do is very cool and exciting. so everything is good really#but i should be sleeping. and i’m not. as usual 🤧#idk wish me luck!!!! i’m so hyped about my degree plan though#i’ll go into more detail another time. i’m very excited#ANYWAY goodnight!!!! can’t be so busy planning my future in library science that i DONT GO TO MY SHELVING JOB#kind of important to actually go to work for the library that employs me….#and then i might go see a first-printing roget’s thesaurus!!!! or i’ll sleep. we’ll see#followed by lunch with GUY WHO IS THE WORST KILL HIM WITH HAMMERS#(there is nothing really wrong with me he just keeps kind of being mean to me and also expecting me to fall in love with him. but like#extremely passively and not manipulatively it’s just like. hey buddy you’re doing this friendship wrong….)#anyway then i have a class and after that i have an hour to rest. and then a phone call and then a lot of homework#(ten page paper draft due in a week and a half!! so it’s time to start writing the actual body of it)#and then i sleep for a LONG time and then work again on saturday. and then sleepover with somebody i have a crush on??#and then be normal all day on sunday and do a little more paper writing. and programming homework. and whatever else#and then keep up with the slog for three weeks!!!! and all of a sudden it’s summer!!!!#projects left this year: material culture paper (entirely unstarted. but may research the thesaurus and just win!!!!)#history project (draft due the monday after next and real paper due a week after classes end)#one more programming assignment where i adapt my recipe doubler project (probably. it’s getting stupid at this point but it’s what i got!!)#and a programming test in two weeks and then the final a week after that. then no more programming#and then i just have my weekly latin tests and a latin final on may 5th. and then EVERYTHING IS DONE#ok i got this. sorry for walking through my schedule in the tags it’s how i remember what’s real#can’t believe my fucking partner just kind of walked out on me there hello???? like. we should be powering through finals together#but i’m genuinely better off without him so i guess it’s just whatever. trash took itself out or something??#anyway. i’m so regular. and i have work in the morning. and i’m going to sleep#thank you world. goodnight
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thedailyvio · 5 months
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Yearly recap and future plans
I don't believe I missed any days this year, but I still need to figure out why my day count was 1 off at some point.
I had a lot less time this year to dedicate to art, and there was a lot of stagnation because of it.
I'm picking a little at beginning to do some studies and style exploration, so I hope I can get more into that in '24
I didn't get a chance to do Any of last years goals very much, so here's to hoping '24 will pan out better.
As per the poll listed earlier this year (I was told there was 1 misclick) it looks like the plan for future posting will be:
Post days for the week will be on.... tentatively? Friday.
I will queue them across the length of the day.
Hopefully I can get back to a position where daily posting is possible, but for now I want to commit to something I can at least do consistently
(Not even sure yet if I will be able to be consistent with this, but will see)
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homestuck--edits · 2 years
Note
that one hs^2 panel of Jane shaking her fist at a screen but instead of Jane it's Candy!Kanaya
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here ya go :>
-mod davesprite
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quecksilvereyes · 5 months
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oh my god do not click links in emails that tell you to verify your data or your bank account gets locked or click links in messages telling you your safety protocol is ending, like, tomorrow, you will get SCAMMED SO BAD AND YOU WILL LOSE A LOT OF FUCKING MONEY never ever let anyone pressure you into giving away login information especially to your online banking by creating a sense of urgency oh my GOD
some things to look out for
1. spelling mistakes. do you know how many rounds of marketing and sales experts these things go through? if theres a spelling mistake dont click it
2. not using your name. if an email adresses you with "dear customer" or, even worse, a generic "ladies and gentlemen", it is most likely not actually targeted to you
3. verifying or login links. even IF your bank was stupid enough to send these to customers, dont EVER click those. look at me. they can legally argue that youve given your data away and thus they dont have to pay you anything back DONT CLICK THAT FUCKING LINK
4. creating a sense of urgency. do this or we lock your account next week. do this or your ebanking stops working tomorrow. give us all your money in cash or your beloved granddaughter will get HANGED FOR MURDERING BABIES. no serious organisation would ever do something like that over email or sms. ever. hands off.
5. ALWAYS CHECK WHO SENT YOU THE EMAIL. the display name and the email adress can vary a LOT. anyone can check the display name. look at the email adress. does it look weird? call the fucking place it says its from. you will likely hear a very weary sigh.
6. if its in a phonecall, scammers love preventing you from hanging up or talking to other people to have a little bit of a think about whats happening. there should always be a possibility to go hey i wanna think about this ill call back the official number thanks.
7. do not, i repeat, do NOT a) call a phone number flashing on your screen promising to rid your computer of viruses after clicking a dodgy link and b) let them install shit on your computer like. uh. idk. teamviewer.
7.i. TEAM VIEWER LETS PEOPLE USE YOUR COMPUTER HOWEVER THEY WANT AS LONG AS THEYRE CONNECTED. IF YOU DONT KNOW FOR FUCKING SURE YOURE TALKING TO ACTUAL TECH SUPPORT DONT GIVE ANYONE ACCESS TO YOUR COMPUTER.
fun little addendum: did you know a link can just automatically download shit? like. a virus? an app you can't uninstall unless you reset your entire device? dont click links unless youre extremely sure you know where they lead. hover your mouse over it and check the url.
thanks.
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gallusrostromegalus · 7 months
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The Van Has Officially Declared It Spooky Season
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I've got my parent's van for the week and it seems determined to establish my status as The Local Cryptid by terrorizing an innocent 7-11 clerk.
...I might need to back up a bit.
My mother is an eminently sensible woman who knows herself well, and when The Plauge hit, she knew she'd need some sort of mentally and physically engaging craft project to keep herself from going insane and massacring the local zoning and water management boards (even if they have it coming). So she and Dad acquired a utility van and converted it into a camper van because while they love camping, they're past the age where their joints and immune systems will tolerate sleeping on the cold ground in a nylon tent.
They did a terrific job of it and my mom taught herself woodworking and carpentry and now the van has it's own cabinets, fold-away dining table, and removable queen-sized bed with memory foam mattress. My Dad was already a computer engineer, but he learned the dark magics of automotive software and electronics to install after-market backup cameras, a media player that would take a terabyte hard drive and a solar-powered battery and outlet so they could wake up and just turn on the kettle and griddle for breakfast without having to exit the van into a cold morning on an empty stomach.
Truly, the height of Camping Luxury.
My parents are both in their mid-seventies and my primary life goal is to be at least half as cool and hale as they are when I get old.
Anyway, they take it out at least a dozen times a year and it works fabulously, but, being as I am on good terms with my parents and also finishing the process of moving house, I've been borrowing it to move large and cumbersome objects that will not fit in the back of my equally lovely but minuscule Honda hatchback.
It's a Great Van. Very easy and comfortable to drive. Stunningly good MPG for it's size. The best cruise control I've ever had in a car.
It's just also. Quirky. Mischievous, even.
---
If this van has a fault its that it bears the unfortunate affliction that all lightly used white utility vans have in that the combination of an utter lack of branding features and the large dent/scrape I accidentally put on it while trying to escape a Denny's last Thanksgiving means that this vehicle is one addition of a Badly Spray-Painted "FREE CANDY" on the side away from being the sort of vehicle you see in an edgy horror movie.
It's got the same issue that Doberman Dogs have where they look like the sort of creature that likes to snack on toddler's faces whilst actually having personalities made of marshmallow fluff. This vehicle is unnecessarily menacing and I think nothing short of an airbrushed Epic Van Wizard will correct this. People see this van pull up and lean over and squint suspiciously at me when the driver's side door opens, and then look moderately confused when, instead of Charles Manson, a small, potato-shaped creature with neon purple hair and a statistically unlikely assortment of dogs emerges.
My own two dogs, Herschel the Hanukkah Goblin/Corgi and Charleston Chew The Taco Dumpster Dog, Do Not Like The Van. Even with the bed in it, they have a tendency to slide and roll around in the back, and both WILL chew through dog saftey belts or other attempts to secure them in there.
On the other hand, my house mate's dog, an exceptionally tall standard poodle whom we lovingly call "The Creature", loves the Van because SHE wears her doggy seat-belt with only mild complaining and gets to sit up in the passenger seat like A People.
Also like A People, The Creature likes to stand and walk around on her hind legs. It doesn't hurt her and it's entirely voluntary, but every so often I will feel a hand on my arm and instead of my husband or friend, it's a canine that's taller than I am on her hind legs who wants to stare at my face with soulful, concerned eyes. The Creature's favorite thing is that she is exactly the right height for me to hold her arm in Genteel Fashion and walk around the pet food or hardware store with her like I'm a count escorting a debutante around a royal ball.
---
As it stands, I am set to inherit this vehicle whenever my Honda gives up the ghost, and I fully intend to paint an Epic Van Wizard on it when that time comes.
The other peculiarity of The Van is that while Dad did manage to successfully install all his after-market electronics, not all the electronics get along. Sometimes, they fight for Dominance. The Terabyte Music Player and the Backup Camera have a particularly contentious relationship, and turning on the music has about a 25% chance of turning on the backup camera as well, and turning on the Backup Camera is equally likely to turn on the music.
Firthermore, The Van has a favorite song.
I am not kidding that Dad filled an entire terabyte hard drive with music and the software to sort it via the radio controls, but of all the Early Boomer Dad Rock (Kingston Trio over The Eagles) and Irish Folk and Symphonies and the entire discography of Weird Al Yankovic, The Van's favorite song- The one it picks to play as victory music every time it beats the Backup Camera at their weird electronic game of rock-paper-scissors -is The Liberty Bell March by John Phillip Sousa.
You all know this song already.
...but in case you've forgotten the tune:
youtube
Yeah.
The Van's favorite song is the goddamn Monty Python's Flying Circus Theme Music.
It does not play this song at a normal volume.
Every time I turn on the Backup Camera and it manages to turn the music player on as well, The Van insists on absolutely blasting this nonsense on at the maximum volume it's physically capable of producing, which I know is loud enough to be heard from the Denver International Airport's Pickup zone when they Van decided to start playing it from the economy lot about half a mile away.
Perhaps it's The Van's way of honoring the aesthetic sensibilities and sonic enthusiasm of Mr. Sousa.
...I can't help but wonder if the purpose of an Epic Van Wizard is to control this sort of faerie-like malarkey, and channel these chaotic energies into things like Spell of Don't Break Down In Nevada or Enchantment Of Always Have Good Parking.
---
So last Friday the 13th, I get a call from my friend and housemate, at said airport.
It's roughly 11PM at night, and I have already retired for the evening. I am in the exact minimum of clothing required to be a decent housemate and not scandalize the neighbors should I happen to walk by a window. My feet are up. There is a cat in my lap and fictional British people murdering each other in highly inventive fashion on the tv. -But my friend has returned from her friend's wedding,and either American or United Airlines has managed to lose her luggage, including, among other valuable possessions, the keys to her car. ...So she cannot just drive home as originally planned.
There are, as luck would have it, her spare set of keys not eight feet from me.
Being a good and decent person, I agree to bring the spare keys to her so she may get home before daybreak and not spend a semester's worth of tuition on an uber across the greater Denver traffic jam.
Being also that she Loves Activities, and it's her mom we're going to pick up, I elect to take along The Creature.
I am primarily focused on remembering how to get to the airport and not leaving my friend's spare keys on the counter, so I throw on a pair of flip-flops, step outside, remember that it's AUTUMN and my minimal evening attire is not sufficient thermal protection, step back in, grab the first coat in the closet I lay hands on, pull it on, check that I have her keys again and leave.
The trip to the airport is largely unremarkable, save that it becomes necessary for me to put on sunglasses to drive, despite it being nearly the witching hour and almost entirely darker than the inside of a cow.
It's necessary because this blissful darkness of night is violently punctured by a startling number of cars that seem to have installed miniaturized but no less powerful lighthouse bulbs in where their headlights ought to go so the oncoming traffic and sports cars that insist on tailgating me in the slow lane alike illuminate the road and my mirrors with the kind of radiance I'd normally associate with the arrival of a Seraphim.
I arrive at the distant highly discounted airport car lot where my housemate is waiting, deeply apologetic. It's nothing. I say. Once I see that your car starts up, I'm gonna go to that 7-11 across the way that I parked in front of, get a slurpee or something and I'll see you at home.
While she is retrieving her vehicle (an equally eccentric but much more stately Subaru that is old enough to be elected to congress) I rifle through the loose change in the glove box and discover that I have exactly $6.66 in small bills and coins. The Subaru, continuing it's long voyage into vehicular immortality, immediately starts up.
Upon her return, we all remember that my friend had all her camping gear in the backseat of the car and there is no room for The Creature to ride home with her parent, so I again assure her it's nothing, and will just take The Creature into the 7-11 with me. She is trained as a service animal and needs the practice after the plague.
I wave my friend off and turn to enter the 7-11.
I promptly trip over the jutting back bumper of The Van and fall, cartoonishly, face-first onto the sidewalk.
Fortunately, I have a lot of practice falling on my face, and have learned not to throw my hands out but instead cover my face, so my unexpected self-inflicted attempted curb-stomping lightly scrapes my hairline and nothing else -my sunglasses even stay in place- and I get up and resume my quest for a slurpee.
It's well known that the airport is a lawless place, and the 7-11 across from the discounted airport parking at the stroke of midnight is no exception.
I know it's the stroke of Midnight because there's one of those Audubon society bird-call clocks that makes bird noises, and my arrival is heralded by the twittering call of a Summer Tanager. I am almost charmed enough by the unusual choice of chronological device to excuse the exorbitant Airport-adjacent mark-up of Slurpee prices. I stand at the machine for some time, trying to decide on a size for the price and guess what the fuck "Blue Lighting Blast" is supposed to taste like.
The Creature is being Very Polite but is somewhat agitated, I assume because she *just* saw her mother for the first time in three days and then she LEFT with no explanation, so The Creature is on her hind legs, staring woefully into my eyes, asking to be escorted around the 7-11. Even though that's not what she's not supposed to be doing, there's nobody else in here, so I let her hang off my arm and discuss various Slurpee Flavor options with her.
We eventually decide on an experiment in which I try a Small Blue Lightning Blast, and discover it tastes a bit like licking a nintendo cartridge but in a pleasantly satisfying way.
I go up to pay and realize something is amiss.
The Cashier is a young man staring at me with wide eyes, one had over the register and the other wrapped up in his rosary.
I look down at myself.
In my haste to reunite my friend with her spare keys and service animal, I had left the house in the following accoutrements:
Flip Flops. Not matching. It's below freezing outside. That last part is not particularly odd footwear for the weather in for Colorado, but it's an important detail for the rest of the ensemble.
Assorted scrapes, bruises, cuts and welts on my arms and legs that come with doing outdoor work and living in a house with three dogs and a fully-clawed cat that all want to be in my lap all the time. It's cold out, so vasoconstriction has pulled the blood away from my skin, a trait that served my ancestors well during the last Ice Age, but leaves me with pale skin to contrast the various wounds and I look like a corpse that fell out of the back of a pickup truck.
The black Bootyshorts with "CRYPTID" painted in bright red gothic font across my ass, that @theshitpostcalligrapher gave me for my wedding present.
A peculiar but extremely comfortable garment that straddles the line between "Lacy Camisole" and "Industrial-Strength Sports Bra" like the Ever Given straddling the Suez Canal. It is also Bright Red. with black accents.
The Jacket I had grabbed out of the closet, which is in fact, a black Velour Dinner Jacket.
The Tokyo-Ghoul inspired reusable anti-covid mask a friend made me with the set of Coyote Teeth.
My sunglasses, which are shaped like a Halloween Bat. The lenses are the wings and the body is the nose bridge. It is ALSO bright red.
A Very Large and remarkably Humanoid Poodle that I have been audibly affectionately calling "Dear Creature" who is hanging off my arm like she's my Prom Date.
The Very Large and remarkably Humanoid Poodle is ALSO dressed up in a black Dog Sweater that has white bones printed on it to look like its an X-ray jacket showing off her skeleton.
I look like I am taking my Very Fancy Werewolf Girlfriend to a particularly casual Dinner Party for Vampires, but the thing that's really selling it and probably alarming the kid the most is the fun accessory I acquired in the parking lot not five minutes earlier:
The "Small Scrape At my Hairline" is actually a painless but PROFUSELY bleeding head wound that I had somehow entirely failed to notice covering my face, neck, decolletage and magnificent cleavage with blood like a Tarantino Film Extra.
This does explain why The Creature has been delicately trying to use her bodyweight to push me down onto the floor for the last ten minutes. So I don't injure myself while we wait for the paramedics she hoped this kid called to arrive, you see.
The Creature has such a High and Naive Opinion of humanity.
I decide this social situation is already fucked, and the only way out is through, and with haste, before I start dripping on the floor.
"Hi there!" I say cheerfully, to indicate this is a visually alarming but not terribly serious situation. "Just a Small Slurpee!"
The Cashier has entered the relevant code into the register before I finish the sentence. His gaze flicks off me just long enough to look at the total, and he grips his Rosary harder.
$6.66
"Oh cool! I have exact change!" I say, taking the money out of my as-yet-unsanguined pocket without looking and slap it down on the counter. "You have a good night and be safe out there!" I wave, leaving.
I get in The Van, mortified, buckle The Creature up, and as I make to leave, I have to put it in reverse, which automatically turns on the backup Camera.
It also turns on the music player.
I make eye contact with the cashier as the dulcet tones of John Phillip Sousa boom from the van hard enough to make the windshield and the windows of the 7-11 rattle for the nine-and-a-half seconds I have to wait to be able to turn the volume back down. Not knowing what else to to, I give him a thumbs up, and leave.
Anyway, now I know what my Future Van Wizard has got to be dressed like, and what their familiar is.
---
If you enjoyed this story, please consider donating to my Ko-Fi or Pre-ordering my Family Lore Funny Stories book on Patreon
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foldingfittedsheets · 4 months
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I worked retail for a long time and people really do treat you like shit sometimes. But between selling sex toys, mattresses, and jewelry I can say definitively I got treated worst selling mattresses.
All three of my jobs were in sales but selling sex toys we were allowed to put people in their place, and in jewelry people didn’t want to misbehave in a fancy setting. But people at the mattress store had no problem yelling at me, hitting on me, or insulting me to my face.
For a while I was managing my own store for the company. I ran a small location and had struggling employees placed with me for rehabilitation. If their numbers improved they could go back to bigger stores. If not, they got fired.
So this meant I was the manager of problem employees. At one point both of my people had a foot out the door. The company was going downhill and changed computer systems and they were fed up. Consequently, they made a ton of mistakes, because they just didn’t care about the job or learning the new systems.
I strolled into work on what was essentially my Monday to a shit show. Deliveries scheduled without product, wrong things on orders, poor expectations of the process, you name it. I spent the entire morning getting yelled at for mistakes that weren’t mine.
The final straw came when a man called furious that his moms bed for her nursing home had a delivery window he couldn’t accommodate. This wasn’t a huge disaster since we still had time to deliver it before she moved. I ran him through the options and he just kept screaming at me. Not for a solution but because I was there and he was frustrated.
My heart filled with malice and a cold fury. A calculating part of my brain had a realization in that moment that I could stay a punching bag or I could strike back.
I quavered my voice delicately, taking in a shaky, warbling breath like I was trying not to cry. “Sir,” I quivered through fake tears, “I don’t know what you want from me! I told you what I can do, I didn’t make this mistake I’m just trying to fix it!” My voice broke pitifully on the last syllables, sounding in all ways like a sweet innocent person being yelled at who’s just trying her best, really!
It was like I’d doused him with cold water. My emotional act was the realization that he was screaming at someone who was just doing their damn job, and he was being an asshole. He hastily made an excuse and hung up.
I had a third employee covering with me from another store that day who heard everything. When I hung up, I looked over to see them watching me with an awed expression. “Did… did you just pretend to cry?”
“I absolutely fucking did,” I said with feeling, “and I’d do it a thousand more times. If that’s what it takes for someone to realize they’re behaving like a fucking prick, they deserve it.” The employee looked at me like I was their hero.
The man called back, apologizing profusely, having magically arranged his schedule to accommodate delivery. He came in later that week with an apology Starbucks gift card. I was gracious in my acceptance.
I pulled it a few more times before leaving the company. I felt no shame in the ruse. If someone behaves so poorly that it’s plausible their behavior would drive someone to tears they deserve to feel absolutely wretched about it.
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ms-demeanor · 9 months
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any thoughts on the new post that staff went scorched earth on which is now making the rounds abt tumblr live? it basically screenshots all the tos and claims if you've ever opened the app (or in some rbs, unsnoozed live) tumblr has gotten your data. on the one hand i feel like this is fearmongering, but on the other its true that MOST sites have your data as is so its pretty standard. you seem pretty knowledgeable abt data gathering so i was wondering abt your take
This is going to be pretty unkind but watching tumblr users interact with staff and live is a great primer on how conspiracy theories happen.
Nobody on this fucking website knows how to read a ToS, nobody on this website knows how anything fucking works (sorry, this is not a dig at you but how would tumblr "get" your data from you clicking or unclicking live; the only data that tumblr has on you is the data that you have put on tumblr what data do people think that clicking the "new" button is scooping up that is anything beyond interactions or posts or IP addresses which are the things that tumblr already has information about like you do not introduce new information into the tumblr ecosystem by clicking a button you haven't installed anything you haven't changed permissions on your browser if everyone is so goddamned scared about live stealing their data i strongly recommend they stop using anything but public internet through an anonymizer and making sure location data is shut off on all of their devices and anyone who is flipping their shit about the type of data that live is collecting but who is using chrome on any device needs to chill the fuck out about live and flip the fuck out about google)
this is like that post about twitter's content policy that circulated the other day or that post about deviantart's content policy that circulated ten fucking years ago nobody knows how to read legal documents and nobody knows how to read technical documentation and this comes together into unholy matrimony on the no reading comprehension at all moral panic website
live never violated the GDPR it was just rolled out in the US first but the entire userbase decided that because it hadn't been rolled out simultaneously in the EU and the US that it was SO UNSPEAKABLY PRIVACY VIOLATEY THAT THE EU HAD BANNED IT FOR ITS CRIMES with, like, nothing whatsoever backing that up because, again, even at its most intrusive Live collects about as much data as Twitter or Yelp, both of which are *capable* of meeting GDPR standards with that level of data collection (even if musk sometimes makes decisions that violate GDPR).
Live is significantly less intrusive than any facebook product, than Amazon, and than any Google product. If you use youtube logged in, don't worry about live, the horse is out of the barn and tumblr is the least of your worries *regardless* of live. If you regularly use Google as a search engine please god learn how to evaluate and compare risks across platforms because Live is like a coughing baby compared to about a dozen things that most highly online people interact with every single day.
If you don't want to use live don't use live. Clicking the button doesn't magically transfer your secret FBI file to tumblr and even agreeing to the ToS doesn't share anything that tumblr doesn't already have if you don't continue to interact - if you don't interact with live after agreeing to the ToS it's not collecting any data except your non-interaction.
For everyone who is losing it over Live just turn off your goddamned location on your fucking cellphone and turn off your location on your goddamned computers and that's it, you're good, you're fine, relax. If your response to "turn off your location" is "but I need it for _____" then don't worry about Live, whatever "_____" is was already collecting and selling your data.
Do you use an activity tracker? Congrats, you have much, much bigger privacy issues to worry about than tumblr live.
Okay but also I yelled about that post and the very many ways in which it was incorrect in January.
And I happened to take an archive of the page at that time because I'm a paranoid motherfucker.
And if you want my guess as to why staff went "scorched earth" on that post it's probably because if you scroll down to the bottom of the page on the archive, OP calls on everyone looking at the post to send a kind fuck you to the CEO then tagged his tumblr.
If you look at the other posts that went scorched earth in relation to tumblr staff they were also posts that very pointedly directed a lot of ire at a single staff member.
I don't think that any individual tumblr staff members are above criticism and I don't think that staff as a whole is above criticism but part of learning to read a ToS is understanding that someone can be shitty and vague and use TERF talking points and skirt the line and be technically okay under the ToS while someone can have a legitimate gripe about another user being horrible and manage to violate the ToS by accidentally spinning up a harassment campaign or suicide baiting someone.
Shitty people like nazis and terfs thrive on being edge cases. They are very good at finding a boundary and standing juuuuuuuuust on this side of it and going "la la la I'm not violating the ToS, you can't stop me!" and that blows and it leads to a lot of people encountering a lot of shitty stuff on a lot of websites but personally I'm pretty glad that there's a lot of gray area because when you cut out gray area that's when you see things like It's Going Down getting banned as extremist content alongside white supremacists. Please continue to report nazis and terfs, and when possible go deep into their pages to report because a pattern of behavior is more likely to get recognized as hate speech than a single post that gets reported a hundred times. Please block as many people who it's harmful for you to interact with as possible because it's clear that staff is not going to do the kind of work protecting users that users would like staff to do.
However I just can't get angry on behalf of a blogger who got nuked for saying "Hey everyone who hates this feature that we all hate please go tell the CEO to fuck himself at this URL specifically" - that is an extremely clear violation of the ToS because it is absolutely targeted harassment.
So now tumblr-the-userbase is going off on its merry conspiracy way skipping through fields and lacking reading comprehension and saying "users are getting banned for reporting the crimes of tumblr live and its gdpr violations" and ignoring the fact that the post was nuked because the last line was saying "hey everyone, let's all individually tell the CEO to fuck off in messages sent directly to him that are certainly not going to include any threats, exaggerations, gore, etc. etc. etc."
If I were to make a post that had 50k notes and the last line was "and while you're at it, please send tumblr-user-ms-demeanor a personalized message telling them why they're a terrible person so they know what we think of them" it would absolutely be reasonable to say that was harassing that user. And that post did it with the CEO. Who is not above criticism (and I have my criticisms! I don't think he really gets tumblr and that's a problem!), but jesus fucking christ don't tag the goddamned CEO or any other staff member in a call to action asking users to send them messages saying "fuck off" this is literally the stupidest thing I've ever seen a tumblr conspiracy theory coalesce around.
Anyway thank you for giving me a place to vent i've been getting more and more pissed about this for three days. Everyone feel free to kindly tell tumblr user ms demeanor to fuck off.
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sugume · 3 months
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YOUR BIGGEST FAN — GETO SUGURU
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✧・. on vacation with your family, you discover that your biggest fan may not be a mystery after fall.
( TW ) f!reader. camgirl!reader. stepbrother!Geto (in a plot device way, no nii-chan and stuff.) unprotected sex. cream pie. phone sex. squirting. fingering. mutual masturbation. cunnilingus. deception. mentions of bullying. misunderstandings. hurt/comfort. explicit content.  
word count - > 6.6k
authors note. can you see I wasn’t creative with the username? I have a love-hate relationship with this fic because I feel like it goes from 0 to 100 real quick lmfao. This is heavily inspired by the book Eyes on Me! 
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“I bet you look handsome.” You smile at the black screen with the default profile picture floating in the middle. 
‘Nah.’ User @Sssman72  types into the chat the takes up the left half of your computer. 
“Stop! Don’t say think bad things about yourself,” You laugh, making sure your tits jiggle in the flimsy red lingerie you're wearing. “I know your handsome baby.” You reassure your favorite client. The man who alone gives you 50% of your income. He’s the one who bought you this pretty lingerie set you're wearing.  
‘You look tired babydoll...how was today?’ He types. 
“I’m fine, I promise, just had a long day, was on a few other private chats with some other customers the entire day.” You confess. In all honesty after this call you were planning to pass out and try to get a few hours of sleep before you had to fly out to your family's vacation home. Today on your live stream, you told your followers you were going on vacation for the next two weeks and wouldn't be online. You didn't plan to get on a call with @Sssman72 but he had texted you as you were getting ready to go to bed that he had a bad day and wanted to see you. Before you had a chance to protest, he spent you 500 and said it would only be 30 minutes. You gave in because first he was your biggest supporter and you wanted to be there for him in some way with all the money and gifts, he sends you and second, you didn’t mind chatting with him, you thought he was the sweetest and you struck lucky the day he joined one of your lives.  
‘I’ll let you go then, I want you to get some rest before your flight, sorry for keeping you up beautiful just needed to vent about my ass job.’ 
“I’m always here for you handsome, I'll make sure to send you those pictures you requested through the week.” 
‘Make sure you enjoy your break babydoll, don’t gotta worry about me. Goodnight.’ 
You say your goodbyes and end up falling asleep in the lingerie bought you as soon as you shut your laptop. 
— 
“How’s college y/n?” Your stepfather asks when you slide into the back seat of the car. Your mother fitting the last of your luggage into the trunk.  
“it’s fine, some of my classes are difficult but nothing I can't manage.” You answer as you buckle in. 
“Oh yeah? Thats good. You mom tells me you started a job a few months ago, how's that working out for you?”  
You tense under the small blanket you’ve thrown over yourself. 
“u-uhm yeah its good—yeah it’s been fun.” 
“I’m sorry sweetheart, I don't remember what you mother told me you did again.” He chuckles. 
“Uhm—I'm a bartender, m-my friend works there and got me a position.” You tell him the lie you've rehearsed hundreds of times. You start to sweat under the blanket. Did he buy it? What if he and your mom found out what you did? Are they planning to ambush you when you get to the house? They're going to make you drop out and chain you up in the basement when they find out. You throw the blanket off, suddenly too hot and alert. Guess that nap you were planning on taking during the drive wasn’t happening. 
“Oh, that’s fun sweetheart, I remember I bartended awhile when I was in college, got fired for stealing the alcohol though,” He laughs at the memory before turning to look at you. “You wouldn’t do that though, you’re a good girl.” 
You nod, thankful that your mom decided now to take your stepdad's attention away and get in the car. 
“Alrighty were good to!” She cheers. Your stepdad turns back around in his seat before starting the car. 
“Finally, thought we were going to get a fine parked here another minute.” 
“Oh, shut up! Y/n are you excited to go back to the vacation house? You haven’t been in years!” You mom asks as you guys pull out of the airport.  
“Yeah, I can’t wait to, I missed the hiking trails and the waterfalls. None of that in the big city.” You answer truthfully. You did miss the silence of the secluded house you vacationed at every summer since your mom married your stepdad. It was the company that you hated. As if your mom heard your thought, she says something that makes your heart drop. 
“Suguru feels the same way, we didn't even have to blackmail him to come! That boy...” 
“Suguru is coming?” You scream.  
“Coming? Sweetie, he’s already arrived this morning. I’m so excited were all together as a family again.” 
“Are you fucking serious mom? Turn the car around and bring me back to the airport!” You screech. You were not going to spend the next week with your bully of a stepbrother.  
“Y/n!” You mom gasps. 
“Sweetheart, he’s changed.” Your stepdad tells you as if that's going to make it better. 
“That’s what he wants you to think! He’s the worst human being on planet earth, please don’t make me spend the next few weeks with him, please mom,” you lean over the consul. “Please dad.” You pout at your stepfather. You know he gets weak whenever you call him dad. 
“Sweetheart...” 
“No! You aren’t sweet talking your way out of this, he’s changed. He isn't the same teenager with a chip on his shoulder, he’s matured. He even told me the reason he’s coming is to apologize and bond with you y/n.” 
“He’s lying mom! He doesn't care about me; I wouldn't be surprised if he told you that just so he could drown me in the lake. You guys own the land so nobody would find my body!” You start to tear up. You were going to jump out of the car if your parents didn't turn back around. Your stepbrother was your biggest tormentor since the day you met him. From picking on you at home to getting the girls to bully you at school. He made your life hell for four years. The day you left for college you screamed how much you hated him and told your parents that the four of you would only be in the same room again when you lay in a casket. 
“Oh, don’t cry sweetheart. Your mother is right, he’s changed, I wouldn’t have allowed him around you if he hadn’t. Give us a week and if you want to leave, I promise I'll drive you back to the airport and you’ll never have to see him again, please?” 
“No.” You cross your arms and look out the window despite knowing that they’ve won. You can’t jump out of the car now that you are on the highway, and you didn’t bring your own car to drive yourself back to the airport. 
“We’ll give you the master suite, the whole attic floor to yourself.” They bargain. You act like you’re thinking of accepting the offer. With the master suite taking up the entire third floor you could lock yourself up there and ignore Suguru. You could also film videos and even go live because the room is soundproof. You perk up at that. You could just spend your vacation on stream and chatting with @Sssman72. He’s somehow always free for you and told you that if you get bored you could call him. He’ll make up for your stepbrother’s awful behavior. 
“Fine, I’ll take the master suite.” 
— 
“Okay that's the last of your luggage, we’ll be having dinner in a few hours on the dock.” 
“Kay, thanks.”  You watch your stepdad shut the door. Once he does you release the tension in your shoulders. You lock the door before running to throw yourself onto the huge king bed. You sink down. You didn’t see Suguru when you arrived, you mom told you he was probably in town. You hope he stayed in town for the next two weeks.  
After laying it bed thinking about how much you hate Suguru with a passion you pull out your phone and open the porn app. You click on messages and open your chat with @Sssman72. 
‘Hey...I know I told you I was on vacation but I already wanna go home. You don't have to answer lol.’ You send. He immediately starts typing.  
‘Of course, I'll answer you babydoll. What’s wrong?’  Your face heats at the pet names. You wish you knew what he looked like, all he told you about himself was that he was in his twenties and worked for his father's company. You want to know more, what he looks like, what he sounds like. If the messages he sends make you sweat, you wonder what’ll happen if he spoke to them to you. In your head he’s a handsome bachelor who just so happened to find you and deem you worthy of his time and money but hell, he could be lying. He could be some old rich man in his eighties who likes young girls like all the rest of your viewers. The romantic part of you ignores that and is convinced he is who he says he is and that one day you’re going to meet in person and fall in and have a bunch of his babies. 
‘You know that stepbrother I told you about?’ 
“Mm, that asshole who bullied you?’ 
‘Yep, that asshole. Anyways I bet you won't guess who's here on vacation with me?’ 
‘Are you serious?’ 
‘Dead serious...my parents didn’t tell me until I was already trapped and now, I have to spend my vacation away with a man who hates me for no reason.’ 
‘Wow that’s crazy lol. Did your parents tell you why he chose to vacation with you if he doesn’t like you?’ 
‘Apparently he’s here to make amends...he’s probably here to kill me so he gets all the inheritance.’ 
‘Well, what if he’s really there to make amends baby?’ 
‘You should've heard the groan I just let out. I can’t believe you’re on his side babe. When I tell you that he too evil for that I mean it.’ 
‘Hey, you know I'm always on your side babydoll, I'm just giving you a man’s perspective on it. Maybe he realized he’s fucked up and he feels back so he wants to apologize for all the wrong he caused you’ 
‘Yea well from a women's perspective he’s an asshole who doesn’t care about anyone else but himself!’ 
‘Don’t say the baby...hypothetically what would he have to do to get you to forgive him?’ 
‘Hypothetically he's going to have to get on his knees and beg for my forgiveness every time he sees me until I deem, he's forgiven. And he’s also gonna have to send every dollar in his bank account to me AND be my slave for the rest of his life...hypothetically.’ 
‘Lol you never know babydoll, he just might be willing to do anything for your forgiveness. I know I would.’ 
‘That’s because you’re perfect and care about my feelings...now I'm gonna go get some sleep before having to eat with the devil. Pray he doesn’t poison me and I survive the night.’ 
— 
You sit at the dinning room table waiting for Suguru. Of course, he’s late, he doesn’t care about anyone's time but his. You say so to your parents. 
“Y/n stop being so harsh and give him a chance please.” You roll your eyes and go back to scrolling on social media.  
“Sorry I'm late.” You jump at the deep voice before whipping your head to the left where your stepbrother stands looking so...so different. 
“Suguru! No need to apologize! Come sit.” Your mother points to the empty seat opposite you. Suguru glances at you and smiles before walking to the seat. You gasp. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him smile at you or anyone else. Actually, you know he hasn’t smiled at anyone, he was know for being so stoic. You watch intensely as he pulls out the chair and sits. He looks like a different man, his hair is long, down past his shoulders, the black shirt he's wearing stretches around a huge chest. He looks like he spends half his day in the gym. And those eyes—those eyes that always had heavy eyebags and glared at everyone that looked his way, look at you with gentle look you can’t place. They even crease with the smile that he’s wearing. Your eyes widen, he has a fucking dimple. He looks like a gentleman, he looks handsome. You can't stop staring at his smile. 
“Y/n? You alright?” You Stepdad breaks through the haze you were in. You look at your parents and back to Suguru who all have concerned expressions on their faces.  You feel your entire body heat in embarrassment.  
‘Uhm—yea I'm fine.” You look at your parents, refusing to look back at that smile.  Suguru has different plans. 
“Hey y/n, it’s been a long time yeah?” Suguru says in that deep voice that has your heart beating faster.  Out the corner of your eye you watch as Suguru reaches over the food, holding his hand out. Does he really think you’re about to give him a damn handshake?  
...Are you seriously thinking about shaking that huge hand? No, you won’t. 
You purse your lips and cross your arms over your chest. You swear you see him glance down at your cleavage but the next second, he's holding eye contact. You blink and look away with a ‘hmm’. He lowers his hand.  
“Alright guys let's eat, okay?” You mom breaks the tension. Everyone grabs their share, and you eat in silence for a while, nobody brave enough to speak and you simmering with anger at Suguru. You throw glare at him every time you look up from your plate which happens more times than you’d admit.  
“You got something there.” Suguru points the sharp end of the fork at you. 
“What?” You ask. 
“There,” He grabs his napkin and starts to reach for you. You tense suddenly locked in place. Suguru brings the napkin to the corner of your mouth and wipes it. “There you go.” 
You stare at him like he's grown three heads. Maybe he’s dying and wants to make amends? Why else would he be treating you like this. Maybe someone took over his body? That has to be it. 
“Uh thanks?” You mummer, unsure what to say. 
“You're welcome little sis.” You choke on your spit. What the hell did he just call you!? He must be messing with you; you’re suddenly filled with rage. You glare at him, hoping he disintegrates with the sheer force of your stare. 
“You’ve grown up.” Suguru says after another blinking contest, you lost. 
“Yea, have you?” You snarl. He stops smiling. 
“I have,” he says seriously, setting his fork down. “I want to talk about—” 
“I don’t care.” 
“Please—” 
“No!” You slam your hand on the table, and he goes silent. You’re overcome with guilt before you remember that he bullied you for a year, that he told the entire school to bully you after he graduated. Fuck him. 
— 
You slam the door the door of your room speed walking to the bathroom. You strip your clothes before turning on the tub. You finally breathe when you settle into the scolding hot water. You needed to wash his gaze, his touch, off your body. The entire dinner after your conversation was awkward, your parents didn't really speak, and you refused to glance back up at Suguru who wouldn't stop staring.  
You hated him. You hated him. You—you can’t bring yourself to hate him. For some unknown reason you can’t bring yourself to hate him despite everything he's put you through. Why? You shake your head. You don’t want to think of Suguru while you're trying to relax. You phone dings. You pick up and a smile replaces your frown. @Sssman72. 
‘How are you babydoll, you alive?’ 
‘Yes, wish I wasn’t though.’ 
‘Why what happened during dinner?’ You sigh and send him voice message detailing everything that happened. 
‘Oh wow.’ 
‘I know.’ 
‘You gonna give him a chance to explain?’ 
‘I don’t know I don’t want to but also, I want to hear his explanation...can we call I really don't want to type all of this out?’  
‘Course, give me a second. I'll call you.’ You wait a few minutes before you hear the familiar ring. 
“Hi handsome.” you smile at the blank profile. Right now, you’d do anything to see him, to hear him comfort you, to be in his arms. He could be the ugliest man in the world, you wouldn’t care. 
‘HI beautiful. Talk to me.’ He types into the chat box. 
“I don't know. like I said I want to hear him out but also, I don't want to hear it because what it it’s bad, what if it doesn’t excuse it? But also, what if it does and I feel like shit for being mean back—it's just so stressful.” 
‘I know babydoll. I wish I could be there right now and hold you. I would do anything to take that hurt away. I'm sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.’ 
“Stop, don’t apologize you didn’t do anything. If anything, I should apologize for using you as a therapist when you paid to see me naked.” You laugh. 
‘Beautiful girl—I would rather pay to hear all your problems and be able to comfort you than see you naked again.’ 
“Wow you don’t want to see me naked, I'm hurt. Just kidding, thank you for saying that handsome.” You feel your heart skip a beat at his message. Maybe you can convince him to turn his camera on tonight. 
“I kinda wanna take my mind off everything right now.” You murmur into the phone before turning on your camera. You hold it above you and smile so he can see everything.  
‘So, fucking beautiful, prettiest girl in the world. You gonna give me a show?’ 
“hm,” You use your free hand to tap your chin. “Only if you do something for me.” 
‘And what is that?’ 
‘Can you turn your camera on? And before you say no, you don’ have to show your face—maybe you can just show your dick or something else. We can masturbate on the phone, please handsome please.” You whine giving him your best puppy face. You watch as the chat bubbles disappear and reappear. You’re about to back out but all the sudden you’re looking at a dim lit room and a huge cock between a big hand. Your eyes widen and the sight. 
"Y-you probably won’t be able to type and jack off at the same time” You suck in a breath. Please turn your audio on please... 
‘I’m gonna turn my audio on but I won’t talk, okay? Think you can get off on my moans babydoll?’  
You nod. 
‘Good girl now show me that pretty pussy, make it squirt for me.’ 
You lift yourself up to sit on the corner of the tub, propping one leg on tub and spreading the other that rests in the water. You flip the camera so your mystery man can watch you finger yourself. You hear him groan and spit onto his hand. 
You moan softly at the sound, teasing your entrance. You wish he was talking to through it, but you’ll settle for this for now. One day... 
“Mmm, wish you were the one fingering me right now,” You circle your clit before gliding your fingers out your cunt. 
“Wish you were here, holding me n' fucking me.” You curl your fingers into your g-spot and moan. You look back at your phone, watching your stranger play with the tip of his long cock. It looks so big compared to his hand, you know you’ll struggle to take it. Your pussy clenches around your small fingers that do close to nothing compared to your dildos at home.  
“Wan’ your cock in me so bad, it looks so big you’ll have to force me to take it, you’ll have to hold me down and make me take it.” You cry out. You watch as he squeezes his hand up and down his cock. It looks painful. He grunts louder. 
“M’gonna cum for you handsome, m’gonna give you what you want and make a mess,” You speed up your fingers to match how fast he slides his fist up and his cock. You moan louder, thankful that you got the suite and aren’t in the room next to your stepbrothers, how embarrassing it would be if he could hear you pleasuring yourself.  
You clench harder around your fingers. Your stranger starts to grunt and groan louder. You shiver at his deep voice on the edge of cumming. 
“Please please let me cum please! Can I come for you please?” You cry, your pussy starts to squelch, spurts of liquid coming out. 
“Yes, cum for me.” Your mystery man groans in an all too familiar voice but before you have time to think about it, you’re squirting, the grip on your phone loosening and falling into the water. 
“N-no!” 
— 
“Yes, this phone is done for, your mother and I are heading into town we can try to find a company that sells phone, but you know how small towns like this are.” You stepdad stares at your phone that’s been sitting in a container full of rice since last night.  
“Fuck, I need it for work! What am I going to do?” You look up at him in distress. 
“What do you need your phone for bartending?” He looks down at you incredulously. 
“My boss is sending me some important email and I didn't bring my computer.” You lie. 
“Well, you can use Suguru’s laptop, I saw him using it this morning in the sitting room. Think he left it there before he went on his run.” Your stepdad points down the hall as your mother rounds the corner.  
“Ready to go honey?” She asks your stepdad. 
“Coming! Use Suguru laptop to check your email, if we come back and you haven’t got the email you can use my phone. Bye! Have fun and be nice!” Your stepdad waves before following your mother. You wave back. 
 Of course, you had to use Suguru’s laptop. Maybe you can just log in, tell your stranger that you’re okay and that you won’t be able to contact him until you get a new phone and then delete the history before Suguru comes back from his run. It’ll only take a few minutes...you hope he doesn’t a password.  
You run to the sitting room, but you don’t see a laptop anywhere. Dammit, he always has to make things hard for you. You walk up the round staircase and down the hall until you're standing in front of Suguru’s room. You look around, as if Suguru's gonna pop up out of nowhere and attack you from going into his room. You shake the thought off and open his door. You stop and stare at the bed, you feel like you've seen that duvet. You chalk it up to a bunch of man having the same bedding before turning to scan the room for a laptop. You quickly spot the laptop on his desk and run to it. You sigh in relief when it opens to the last tab he had opened. Thank you Suguru for not caring about who gets into your shit. You click new tab and start to type in the name of the website you use before you freeze.  
You only need to type in three letters before the website popped up in top hits. You stop breathing. No... He couldn’t know what you do. Is that why he came here? Was he going to expose you to your parents? Was he acting nice to butter you up before crushing you? Your vision starts to blur. All boys watch porn, maybe he just happens to watch porn on the same website you film on. You can block your account from him so that he never finds you. You swallow before clicking the tab. You shakily move they pointer over to the search bar before you spot something in the left corner that makes you dizzy.  
Right where the username of the viewer is supposed to be is the username @Sssman72. Your heart stops and you feel wetness hit your hands. This can’t be real. You move to chat and cry out when you see your username. The last text he sent was asking what happened. No—this is a dream; you’re going to wake up and this is going to be a bad nightmare. You refuse to believe the man you’ve been slowly falling in love with over the last six months is your stepbrother, your bully. The man you confessed all your darkest secrets is the man who never showed you an ounce of kindness. Is this a part of his master plan? Is he going to blackmail you and hold all the nudes you’ve sent him and all the secrets you’ve told him over your head. You’re going to become his slave, doing whatever he wants of you until you die. You curl into yourself and cry harder at the thought.  
“Y/n? What are you do—” Suguru stops when he sees what's on the screen. “Let me explain please baby.” He reaches out to touch your shoulder. You flinch away from his touch.  
“D-don’t call me that,” You sob staring at him with such heartbreak in your eyes he wants to drop and beg for your forgiveness. “You-you, it was you the whole time.” Your voice breaks. 
Suguru nods slowly trying to reach out for you again. You take a few steps away. “Was this some masterplan to hold me under your thumb for the rest of my life!?” You scream at him. 
He’s grateful your parents went out of town; this would be an absolute shitshow if they were here.  
“No babydoll—” 
“I said don’t call me that you asshole! Stop pretending. I hate you Suguru! You win okay, you win!” You tell him before you run out of his room. He curses before running after you, you run up that stairs and into the suite but before you can shut the door Suguru shoves it open. You drop to your knees to pull your suitcase from under your bed. 
“Please listen to me y/n. I wasn’t faking—stop packing and let me explain.” Suguru pleads as he watches you throw your clothes into your suitcase. 
“Y/n, baby, please listen to me please” He grabs your arm, and you try to fight him, but he pulls you down onto the bed with him. He hugs you around the waist and you push in this chest trying to break free. His heart aches. He hates seeing you hurt, he hates that he was the one who made you cry like this. He hates that you only associate him with the version of himself that he created to stop anyone from seeing what he was truly feeling. He hates that you won’t accept the real version of him now that you know it was him. He holds you tighter as you scream and cry. He whispers sweet nothings as you whisper how much you hate him. At some point you stop fighting and wrapping your arms around his neck. You sniffle into his neck, and he rubs your backs and rocks you.  
“Why?” You ask hoarsely after all the anger leaves your body. Now you feel numb, like you're watching your life from a third perspective.   
“I never hated you, I never lied, and I never planned to blackmail you—I know you don’t believe me baby but everything I've ever told you on that app was real. Everything I feel for you is real.”   You pull your face out of his neck and stare up at him. You don’t believe him. 
“I have never hated you y/n. I swear it. I hated the fact that my father replaced my mother with yours not even a year after she died. Baby, I never fucking hated you. I was just a teenager who didn’t know how to express my emotions so I took them out of the person I knew I could hurt the most. It was bad I know; I feel like shit to this day. When I graduated and got away from my father, I realized how bad I was to you, and I got into therapy. I wanted to be better for myself, for you, for everyone around me. I didn’t know that the bullying continued when I left. I didn’t know how bad people had taken it until that day I came back home. When you told me off about it, I was so confused. I’m so fucking sorry. I want to reach out and apologize for everything and the day I planned to do it Satoru—my best friend, you remember him—well he sent me the link to your account and so I made an account and it all just spiralized out of control after that. I was too embarrassed to tell you it was me and then we started to form a connection, a real connection, and I didn’t want our conversations to end so—fuck I'm sorry. Everything I told you; I meant it. I fucking meant every word.”  
You sit there stunned, trying to comprehend everything he said. You never knew about his mother. You thought she had passed away long before your mom and his dad had met. But you remember when your stranger told you that. God, you remember when your not so mystery man told you about his family the seemed so familiar to yours. And he didn’t tell all those people to bully you after he left? Did he mean every word? Every word of affirmation he gave you. Those times when he told you that you were capable of being loved and that you were going to find someone who would love every part of you, the good and bad. Was that the same Suguru? You try to wrap your mind around the fact that the man you love is your stepbrother. 
“I know it’s a lot of information.” 
“It is.” 
“Do you believe me?” He looks at you with furrowed brows. You do. Despite everything you find yourself nodding. He sighs and you feel the tension release from his shoulders that your arms are wrapped around. You suddenly realize the position you two are in and feel your face heat. Your arms are wrapped around his neck and your legs are on either side of his thick thighs his cock, the cock that you saw last night, is right underneath you, if you lower yourself an inch, you’d be sitting on it.  
Suguru grips your waist with one hand, the other cupping the right side of your face. You look up at him and sniffle. He leans down until your foreheads are touching.  
“If you give me achance, I'll treat you like the queen you are. I’ll love you the way you’re meant to be loved. One chance is all I ask for.” He mummers rubbing your noses together.  
You hesitate, one part of you wants to run away with him because he’s the man you’ve wanted for the last six months. The other part of you wants to run away from him, he’s your stepbrother, he lied, and you don't know if he would’ve ever told you the truth. But isn’t that what he came here to do? Can you blame a little boy for being mad at the people who replaced his mother?  
You give him his answer by grabbind his neck and push his lips towards you. If this does go to hell at least you’ll have a story to tell your feature children.  
Suguru kisses back before standing and pulling you off him. “What—” 
“You said you wanted me on my knees, didn't you? I’m ready to serve you in any way you want. I can have my savings transferred to your account by tomorrow night.” He says as he drops to his knees. You stare at him with wide eyes as he holds your legs and starts kissing from knee to right where your pussy starts.  
“Suguru—” 
“Shh babydoll let me take care of my girl, show her how sorry I am for hurting her.” He mummers before dropping your leg and picking up the next one. He repeats this a few more times before finally asking you to lift your hips so he can pull your leggings and panties off. Suguru throws your pants behind him before standing up to pull your tank top off. You reach behind to unbuckle your bra and toss it on the floor with your other clothes. Suguru chuckles, reaching up to kiss all over your face. 
“Take your clothes off too Sugu.” You giggle, reaching for his sweatpants. You get a firm grip and yank them down. His thick cock bounces out. Your mouth goes slack. The phone call didn’t do it justice. It somehow looks bigger than before and if you weren’t wet before, you are now. That thing is going to be inside you soon.  
“Like what you see beautiful?” You nod dumbly as you watch Suguru step out of his pants and take his shirt off with one hand. He’s so fucking sexy.  
He drops back down to his knees and pulls you until your ass is hanging off the bed. “Lay down and let me please you.”  You comply and watch as Suguru lifts your legs up and buries his face in your cunt. Your hands fly down to his long shiny hair. 
“Suguru!” You moan as he licks you from asshole to clit. He sucks on your clit before biting both lips. Your pussy clenches. “Feels s’good Sugu!” You grind down on his talented tongue. Suguru hums into your clit before setting one of you thighs in his shoulder and bringing his fingers to your entrance. He teases you, only pushing his fingers into the joint before taking them out. You cry out in frustration before pulling on his long hair when he finally slides two big fingers into you. 
Yours definitely don't compare to his long thick ones. Your back arches off the bed as Suguru fingers jackhammer into you all the while his mouth sucks on your clit.  
“S’good Sugu! Don’t stop!” You scream letting go of hair with one hand to cover your loud mouth.  
“Don’t hide those sweet moans from me babydoll. If you want my cock, you’ll let me hear you scream my name as you cum on my fingers and mouth.” 
You bring you hand back to hair and grind hard as you get closer and closer to orgasm.  
“Gonna cum! M’gonna come!” You cry, as you release all over Suguru's face. He moans and sucks even harder before adding another finger. You cry at the sudden intrusion. It doesn't take long before you’re coming all over again, this time liquid shooting out of you and onto Sugu’s chest.  
“Yes baby, that's it—what a good girl,” He praises as he slurps up all your juices. “Such a fucking good gril f’me.” 
“Gimme a kiss.” You say between heavy breaths.  
“Does the pretty girl want kiss?” You nod, pulling Suguru down with you by the shoulders. 
“Want you to kiss me while you fuck me for the first time. Want it to be special,” You confess shyly. Suguru leans down and pecks you on the forehead, then the nose, and then both of your cheeks. 
“Don’ tease meanie!” You laugh when he kisses the corner of your lips. 
“M’sorry baby, can you forgive me?” He pouts.  
“Hmm—I’ll forgive you only if you kiss me right no—” You don’t even finish your sentence before Suguru shoves his tongue down your throat. You kiss him back and your tongues fight for dominance. Suguru wins and smiles into the kiss. You can’t believe this is happening. Your bully, your stepbrother, your mystery man is kissing you right now. Your about to make love with said man. 
“You okay babydoll?”  
“Mhm, just can’t believe this is all happening.” 
“Me too beautiful, you sure you want to do this right now? We can always wait.” 
“No, I want to. I want you.” You raise your hand to tuck his hair behind his ear. He smiles, showing you that adorable dimple. You kiss it.  
Suguru kisses your lips once more before he grabs his cock, rubbing it up and down your cunt. 
“Fuck—I don’t have a condom.” 
“I’m on the pill—please Sugu.” You beg, frustrated from all this foreplay. You’ve been on edge since last tight in the tub.  
“Alight beautiful,” He pushes the head of his cock into you. “Fuck me—you feel so good. Always knew you would.” You feel his fist guide his long cock into you. You moan. He fits you perfectly.  
“Sugu—feel’s s’good, want more!” You cry, fisting the blanket’s underneath you.  
“Does my baby want more—does she want to orgasm on my cock?” You nod watching Suguru lift your legs to his shoulder. He leans down, bringing your feet to the side of your head. You whine at the stretch. 
Suguru groans as he pulls his cock in and out of you.  
“S’too much!” You moan into his shoulder. He just laughs and picks up his pace. The fancy headboard above the bed starts to slam against the wall. You watch with blurry eyes as the stock photos hung on the wall shake.  
“Said you wanted more baby, ‘m giving you more.”  he says before biting into your neck. Hard. You scream, back arching at the pain. Your hands fist the sheets even tighter, knuckles turning white. Suguru unlatches his jaw. Lifting his head to admire his mark. Now all your customers will know you belong to someone. To him. He kisses the mark. 
“Sugu, It’s too much. Hurts! m’gonna cum!” You cry, tears soaking the blanket breath you. 
“Oh, don't cry baby—shhh—you’re so beautiful y/n. So damn pretty.” He whispers, coaxing you to orgasm. Your eyes roll to the back of your head. You stop breathing for a second as your pussy contracts around Suguru's cock. Suguru follows in suit, spurting his cum deep inside your pussy. 
“Fuck,” he draws out, collapsing onto you.  
“T-that was—” 
“The best sex ‘ve ever had.” 
“Same.” You smile before wincing. 
“What’s wrong babydoll.”  
“You're about to break my damn hip if you keep my legs up any longer,” Suguru lefts himself enough to bring your legs to his sides. “And you probably ripped a chunk of my neck off with that little trick of yours.” You grumble. 
“It’s not bad, promise.” He kisses the bite mark softly. 
“And all the pictures fell of the wall.”  
“I’ll put ‘em back up baby,” He laughs into your ear. “Just let me hold you for a second.”  He kisses your cheek before snuggling deeper into you. You throw your arms around his shoulder while you both try to wrap your head around everything that happened.  
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kafus · 2 years
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beginner’s guide to the indie web
“i miss the old internet” “we’ll never have websites like the ones from the 90s and early 2000s ever again” “i’m tired of social media but there’s nowhere to go”
HOLD ON!
personal websites and indie web development still very much exist! it may be out of the way to access and may not be the default internet experience anymore, but if you want to look and read through someone’s personally crafted site, or even make your own, you can still do it! here’s how:
use NEOCITIES! neocities has a built in search and browse tools to let you discover websites, and most importantly, lets you build your own website from scratch for free! (there are other ways to host websites for free, but neocities is a really good hub for beginners!)
need help getting started with coding your website? sadgrl online has a section on her website dedicated to providing resources for newbie webmasters!
HTML (HyperText Markup Language) and CSS (Cascading Style Sheets) are the core of what all websites are built on. many websites also use JS (JavaScript) to add interactive elements to their pages. w3schools is a useful directory of quick reference for pretty much every HTML/CSS/JS topic you can think of.
there is also this well written and lengthy guide on dragonfly cave that will put you step by step through the basics of HTML/CSS (what webpages are made from), if that’s your sort of thing!
stack overflow is every programmer’s hub for asking questions and getting help, so if you’re struggling with getting something to look how you want or can’t fix a bug, you may be able to get your answer here! you can even ask if no one’s asked the same question before.
websites like codepen and jsfiddle let you test HTML/CSS/JS in your browser as you tinker with small edits and bugfixing.
want to find indie websites outside the scope of neocities? use the search engine marginalia to find results you actually want that google won’t show you!
you can also use directory sites like yesterweb’s link section to find websites in all sorts of places.
if you are going to browse the indie web or make your own website, i also have some more personal tips as a webmaster myself (i am not an expert and i am just a small hobbyist, so take me with a grain of salt!)
if you are making your own site:
get expressive! truly make whatever you want! customize your corner of the internet to your heart’s content! you have left the constrains of social media where every page looks the same. you have no character limit, image limit, or design limit. want to make an entire page or even a whole website dedicated to your one niche interest that no one seems to be into but you? go for it! want to keep a public journal where you can express your thoughts without worry? do it! want to keep an art gallery that looks exactly how you want? heck yeah! you are free now! you will enjoy the indie web so much more if you actually use it for the things you can’t do on websites like twitter, instead of just using it as a carrd bio alternative or a place to dump nostalgic geocities gifs.
don’t overwhelm yourself! if you’ve never worked with HTML/CSS or JS before, it may look really intimidating. start slow, use some guides, and don’t bite off more than you can chew. even if your site doesn’t look how you want quite yet, be proud of your work! you’re learning a skill that most people don’t have or care to have, and that’s pretty cool.
keep a personal copy of your website downloaded to your computer and don’t just edit it on neocities (or your host of choice) and call it a day. if for some reason your host were to ever go down, you would lose all your hard work! and besides, by editing locally and offline, you can use editors like vscode (very robust) or notepad++ (on the simpler side), which have more features and is more intuitive than editing a site in-browser.
you can use ctrl+shift+i on most browsers to inspect the HTML/CSS and other components of the website you’re currently viewing. it’ll even notify you of errors! this is useful for bugfixing your own site if you have a problem, as well as looking at the code of sites you like and learning from it. don’t use this to steal other people’s code! it would be like art theft to just copy/paste an entire website layout. learn, don’t steal.
don’t hotlink images from other sites, unless the resource you’re taking from says it’s okay! it’s common courtesy to download images and host them on your own site instead of linking to someone else’s site to display them. by hotlinking, every time someone views your site, you’re taking up someone else’s bandwidth.
if you want to make your website easily editable in the future (or even for it to have multiple themes), you will find it useful to not use inline CSS (putting CSS in your HTML document, which holds your website’s content) and instead put it in a separate CSS file. this way, you can also use the same theme for multiple pages on your site by simply linking the CSS file to it. if this sounds overwhelming or foreign to you, don’t sweat it, but if you are interested in the difference between inline CSS and using separate stylesheets, w3schools has a useful, quick guide on the subject.
visit other people’s sites sometimes! you may gain new ideas or find links to more cool websites or resources just by browsing.
if you are browsing sites:
if the page you’re viewing has a guestbook or cbox and you enjoyed looking at the site, leave a comment! there is nothing better as a webmaster than for someone to take the time to even just say “love your site” in their guestbook.
that being said, if there’s something on a website you don’t like, simply move on to something else and don’t leave hate comments. this should be self explanatory, but it is really not the norm to start discourse in indie web spaces, and you will likely not even be responded to. it’s not worth it when you could be spending your time on stuff you love somewhere else.
take your time! indie web doesn’t prioritize fast content consumption the way social media does. you’ll get a lot more out of indie websites if you really read what’s in front of you, or take a little while to notice the details in someone’s art gallery instead of just moving on to the next thing. the person who put labor into presenting this information to you would also love to know that someone is truly looking and listening.
explore! by clicking links on a website, it’s easy to go down rabbitholes of more and more websites that you can get lost in for hours.
seeking out fansites or pages for the stuff you love is great and fulfilling, but reading someone’s site about a topic you’ve never even heard of before can be fun, too. i encourage you to branch out and really look for all the indie web has to offer.
i hope this post helps you get started with using and browsing the indie web! feel free to shoot me an ask if you have any questions or want any advice. <3
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itaipava · 6 months
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— f1 boys giving you the partner privilege.
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˒ ⌕ LANDO NORRIS:
he hates to be interrupted while playing, but you are always an exception; when you arrive in the room he always looks quickly at you and takes a headset out of his ear, attentive to anything you are going to say. if you are sad or discouraged. he lets you sit on his lap and he listens intently to everything you have to say. but if you want, he’ll even turn off the computer/video game because he really cares about you - but he’s a little upset that you made him left the game when he was about to win, but he put this aside and focus on you; because what matters most is you, and always you.
˒ ⌕ DANIEL RICCIARDO:
shows you off in every way possible - honestly, most of the time he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it. he’s always looks in love with you like ‘wow, you’re so perfect for me’. he also gets his eyes in his heart looking at you but still doesn’t understand how people guessed you were dating… but he honestly doesn’t complain, it just makes him show you even more to others because he wants to show everyone that he has the world in his hands.
˒ ⌕ CARLOS SAINZ:
he would give you anything you want; are you looking for a certain food or drink? he’s already getting it for you without question. it’s movie night and you want to watch a movie that no one else wants to watch? one way or another he’s going to make sure you’re watching that movie. he just wants to see you happy - and also because he likes to pamper you. the second you arrive, his friends are rolling their eyes because they know how much he’s wrapped around your finger, just a fool in love.
˒ ⌕ CHARLES LECLERC:
he gives you all his love and affection; it’s like he freely gives his heart to you, when it comes to you, he’d give you the entire galaxy if he could. he would let you do anything; playing with his hair, stealing his clothes, eating his last piece of pizza. he is also more affectionate physically like; he gives you long and warm hugs, soft and long kisses until you lose your breath, plays with your hair while he look through his phone, pulls you into his lap… he loves you with all his heart, and only you.
˒ ⌕ LEWIS HAMILTON:
he brings small gifts constantly. he can’t stop thinking about you and in everything he sees he sees you; whether it’s a coffee at that coffee shop at the end of the street that he knows you like, or that flower he saw in a tree on his way home. every little gift has meaning and a little bit of his heart. he just walks into the room with the sweetest smile to say ‘i have something for you, love’
˒ ⌕ OSCAR PIASTRI
you are the only person who sees his true side; the fun, spontaneous and loving side of him. you’re one of the few people who’s ever heard his spontaneous laugh or his bad jokes. or made him slow dance in the kitchen with you. you are the only person he allows himself to be, you are always the one for him.
˒ ⌕ MAX VERSTAPPEN:
he wants your presence all the time; it’s not that he’s suffocating you, it’s just that he wants to be surrounded by you all the time. like he could literally spend 48 hours locked in a room with you and still feel like he needs more time - like no you can’t leave, we’re not done yet. no matter how much time you spend with him, it will never be enough for him and he will never get tired of your delightful presence; he truly cherishes you and wants nothing more than to give you all of the love he can for as long as possible. your existence alone to him is so mesmerizing, he really doesn’t understand how you’re his or what he did to deserve you.
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stevenose · 19 days
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body to flame (18+)
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summary: steve’s insists he only needs twenty minutes to make you cum.
contains: reader with a vagina; ‘good girl’ and ‘pretty girl’ used for reader; no pronouns for reader; fingering (reader receiving); banter; bitchy!steve; sort of mean!steve but it’s all in good fun
this is hardly proofread so apologies 💔
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“All I need is twenty minutes.”
You scoff and look over your shoulder at Steve, who hasn’t even bothered looking up from the tapes he’s reorganizing.
“Twenty minutes?” you repeat. “That’s not even a whole lunch break.”
“I’ve done it quicker.”
“Bullshit, Steve.”
“You’re scared, huh?” he asks.
“Of you making me cum? Yes.”
Now he scoffs, looking up at you, placing his hands on his hips. Bitchy. “You really don’t believe me?”
“I absolutely do not.”
“Huh.” He stares at you, narrows his eyes at the back of your head. “Give me a chance, won’t ya?”
“A chance?”
“Let me try it on you.”
You whip around, hurling an empty VHS box at him, which he somehow dodges in the nick of time. “No way!”
“What? Don’t wanna be proven wrong?”
“You ever think that maybe I don’t want you to touch me?”
He laughs, much to your shock.
“Steve,” you sigh. “Get a grip.”
It’s silent for a while. You go back to inputting returns and Steve moves around, replacing them. Then he comes back to the check out desk, leaning on it with his forearms. Crowds your space, makes you back up, your cheeks heating up.
“My paycheck.”
You falter. “What about it?”
“I’ll give you my entire paycheck if I can’t make you cum in twenty or less.”
Your eyes roll, but he can see right through you.
“Are you making fifteen dollars more than me an hour or something?”
“I got overtime twice last week!” he defends. “Should be a couple hundred.”
You lick your lips, eyes moving back to the computer as if you’re interested in it more than him. “And if you do? You want my paycheck?”
“When I do, then you’ll let me have another hour with you.”
“To do what? Torture me?”
Steve just smiles.
You narrow your eyes. “Where would this even happen?”
“Uh, on break?” he says, like you’re dense. “Put up a ‘be back in twenty’ sign. Or maybe I should just close up shop?”
The entire thing is so scandalous that it has your face burning up, almost suffocatingly. And he won’t stop looking at you with those dumb puppy dog eyes. A little pout tugging his lips downward.
“You’re gonna beg me?” you snark.
“Couple hundred would go a long way, wouldn’t it?”
You’re so sure you can win at this. Even if he’s good, twenty minutes isn’t that long. And that’s how you end up on his lap on the dilapidated couch in the back room, a “be back in twenty :)” sign slapped onto the front door. Your pants are off and in a heap on the floor below you, underwear still on - you made Steve swear he’d work around them.
No cock, either. “This isn’t just an excuse to get your dick wet, is it?”
Hands thrown up in surrender, he’d said, “Fine, fine. Fingers only:”
“You’re gonna be so broke,” you insist, but it’s already getting difficult. He’s hard underneath you and apparently neither of you will bring it up. Steve looks so pleased with himself, and the confidence makes your stomach flip.
“I wouldn’t be so sure.” His eyes are glinting, full of mischief. “You’re gonna be spending an hour in the Harrington Torture Chamber.”
You laugh boisterously. “And what’s that entail?”
He glares playfully, hands moving up your thighs, settling where they meet your ass. “You’ll just have to see.”
His fingers glide underneath the material, hands first grabbing your ass. You gasp a little as he kneads. “You let me know when to start.”
You twist around to look at the clock behind you. 5:37 pm. Jesus, you’re doing this before it’s even dark out. You look back at him, annoyingly handsome below you, little highlights playing in his curls.
“Now seems fine,” you finally say.
Steve looks over your shoulder. “What do you say we stop at an even six o’clock?”
“Now, Steve.”
There’s really no fanfare. He doesn’t take much time with you, moving his hands around to the front to cup your cunt over your underwear. His thumb finds your clit immediately and you let out an embarrassingly easy whine.
“Right there?” he coos. “Always been good at findin’ it.”
“Bullshit,” you breathe, resting your hands on his shoulders. “Prob- you probably just found out about the clit.”
“Y’know, you better learn to use that mouth for somethin’ a little better than insulting me.”
You’re incredibly, incredibly thankful his fingers weren’t inside of you when he said that. You clench down, pleasure coursing from your stomach to your clit while he rubs gentle circles into it.
“That shut you up,” he muses. “Like being told what to do, huh?”
“Fuck off.”
His thumb presses a little harder. Still delicious - more so, in fact. You bite your cheek hard and stare at his forehead. His eyes are too intense for you.
“Can’t even look at me,” he tsks. “This is a lot for you, huh? It’s only been two minutes.”
You’re thankful for the reminder. You push your thoughts away, starting to think of the new releases coming up, the new cash reconciliation process. But it only works for about three minutes, until Steve gets bored with your non-reaction and slips his fingers under your underwear.
“Jesus,” he moans, “you’re so wet.” He licks his lips. “This all for me? Or are you wet from when Keith came in earlier?”
“Shut up!”
“It’s gotta be one of them, huh?” he presses, rubbing bigger, stronger circles into your clit while his other fingers press into your entrance just a bit. You gasp and clench again, and Steve smirks. “It was Keith, wasn’t it? Can’t wait to tell our friends how horny you get for him.”
“Not Keith,” you pant.
“Oh, then me?”
“Shut up!”
“No way.” His middle finger rubs against your hole. “This is too easy, babe. Got twelve minutes left with you and you’re already creamin’.”
You choose to ignore him, taking deep breaths, squeezing his shoulders. When you least expect it, Steve slides his finger inside of you.
“O-oh -!”
“Feels good, doesn’t it.” Looks at you like he’s really pitying you. “I give you another two minutes.”
“Just - I - just -“ You feel insane, so hot from his attention, pleasure building wickedly fast in your lower stomach. “I need - give me a break.”
“Uh-uh,” he says, wrapping his free arm tight around you and fucking his finger nice and slow in and out of you. Your jaw clenches, squirming to get away from the pleasure, but his arm keeps you planted in place. “Didn’t say twenty minutes with breaks, did I? Not gonna let you cheat.”
Steve’s fingers working in tandem, your mind begins fogging over. You continue squirming - away from or towards him, you’re not exactly sure.
“Didn’t think you’d last this long,” he mumbles. “You’re easy, though.”
“It’s too much,” you whine. Six minutes left. He doesn’t even seem phased.
“I know,” he coos. “Overwhelming, huh? Can’t act like a big girl now, can you?”
You hate the way that’s fueled your fire. Desperate to hold on, you lean forward, burying your face in the crook of his neck. Fingernails dig into his skin through his shirt and vest and he smiles at your reaction.
“Go ahead and hide, baby, but I better see your face when you cum.”
You take a shaky breath and bite down onto his shoulder. Steve groans, fingers picking up their pace, and now you’re really, truly fucked.
You try to think of anything else. Car payment. Potholes on Main Street. Library fines. Keith.
But Steve’s whispering in your ear, saccharine, his voice a velvety deep tenor that makes your chest vibrate. “There we go, good girl. You’re gonna cum so hard for me, huh? You’re so easy. Give it up so good, don’t you? Just for a few extra bucks? Or did you really want played with? Starting to think it’s the latter, babe.”
“Steve,” you cry, thighs shaking and clenching. Steve surely has no feeling in his hand but he keeps up his work, anyway. Three minutes to go.
“Uh-huh, I know, so hard, isn’t it? Just love being fucked on my fingers so much. When I get that extra hour I’m gonna see how many you can take. You’re so tight, gonna take a whole fist to get you ready for my cock.”
You’re seriously shocked. And you’re so desperate for it that your clit tenses up, ready to burst, ready for your vision to go black and for you to moan embarrassingly loud right on Steve’s lap. You reach down for his wrist, gripping it tight, shaking your head and scrunching your face.
“Go on,” he praises, smiling wide, working just a little faster. “Cum for me, give it up, pretty girl.”
You squeal and bury your head into Steve’s shoulder again while you cum, your hips grinding against his hand, making it drip. Steve laughs, moves his arm so he’s rubbing your back instead of pinning you down. “Oh, that felt so good, didn’t it? Feels so good being bitched out on my lap, huh?”
And that’s it. You cum again. Clenching down, shouting into his skin, teeth piercing it open. Steve gasps and groans, lets you ride his hand until your hips still and you’re panting, jaw unclenching from his flesh.
“What did I tell you?” he asks, still rubbing your back. “That was two with two minutes to spare, sweetheart. Want me to put another sign up? You might be busy for a while.”
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shadow4-1 · 27 days
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I'm just imagining having a normal, regular boyfriend that you love very much, and yet the 141 looks for any excuse to get you to leave him.
And eventually...you do.
Like, your boyfriend might not be the tallest or the buffest of anything like that, but he's sweet. He's a computer nerd just like you and he takes extra special care of your feelings. He's not super macho, but that's okay. You feel safe and loved in his presence.
But of course the 141 can't see that. They only see what your boyfriend lacks. He's scrawny, can't protect you, he's probably sleeping with a bunch of people while you're on deployment. How could he love you when he's a civilian who has no idea what you're going through?
At first their sly comments piss you off. How dare they talk about your bf like that? But as time goes on you just roll your eyes and shrug. They just don't get it.
It isn't until one day Price decides to have a sit down meeting with you. He pulls out pictures of your boyfriend spending time with a mutual friend of yours. You don't think much of it until the photos start getting more domestic. The last photo is of them cuddling on a couch at a house party. You refuse to believe what you're seeing but...you have to face the facts.
It hurts, but you trust Price's judgement.
They boys take care of everything for you. They pack up your stuff from your shared apartment and move you into a new one close to the base. They can tell you're torn up about it, so they spend more one on one time with you. They take you to the bookstore and the movies, and fill whatever time you would've spent with your boyfriend.
It isn't until months later, when you've forgotten your now ex's name, do you think that maybe everything had gone a little too smoothly.
But it's also hard to think about any of it when your "new boyfriend" might as well be the entire 141.
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