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#The spreadsheet says I'm having fun

teaboot · 1 month

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Not to be absolutely unhinged but I think that if I buy enough tiny plastic tubs to continue breaking down every possession I own into discrete categories then eventually I will live in a home where I don't constantly have a large pile of completely miscellaneous nicknacks in the middle of the floor constantly and forever until I die

Current box count is 56

#Do I tag this as autism #Is this an ADD thing #Or is this just another one of the lord's freaky gifts #Who knows #I'm having fun #I think #The spreadsheet says I'm having fun #Yippee #God I love sorting things #This isn't OCD by the way this is voluntary and enjoyable

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harrenhalyuri · 22 days

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Just spent 1 hour locked in a space-naval battle against 4 ships that were way above my level (however I could not load an earlier save so I was stuck in the battle lel) but I kept trying over and over until me and my space rust bucket managed to beat them all :)

Trading exploring chartering new courses and doing naval battles are the hands down my favorite part of this game I could legit do this all day

#now THIS is how you have fun #i say as i open yet another one of my paradox spreadsheet games #...considering how much I'm loving this i would to check out stellaris after i finish RT #mesa de bar

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fiercynn · 23 days

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on ao3's current fundraiser

apparently it’s time for ao3’s biannual donation drive, which means it’s time for me to remind you all, that regardless of how much you love ao3, you shouldn’t donate to them because they HAVE TOO MUCH MONEY AND NO IDEA WHAT TO DO WITH IT.

we’ve known for years that ao3 – or, more specifically, the organization for transformative works (@transformativeworks on tumblr), or otw, who runs ao3 and other fandom projects – has a lot of money in their “reserves” that they had no plans for. but in 2023, @manogirl and i did some research on this, and now, after looking at their more recent financial statements, i’ve determined that at the beginning of 2024, they had almost $2.8 MILLION US DOLLARS IN SURPLUS.

our full post last year goes over the principles of how we determined this, even though the numbers are for 2023, but the key points still stand (with the updated numbers):

when we say “surplus”, we are not including money that they estimate they need to spend in 2024 for their regular expenses. just the extra that they have no plan for

yes, nonprofits do need to keep some money in reserves for emergencies; typically, nonprofits registered in the u.s. tend to keep enough to cover between six months and two years of their regular operating expenses (meaning, the rough amount they need each month to keep their services going). $2.8 million USD is enough to keep otw running for almost FIVE YEARS WITHOUT NEW DONATIONS

they always overshoot their fundraisers: as i’m posting this, they’ve already raised $104,751.62 USD from their current donation drive, which is over double what they’ve asked for! on day two of the fundraiser!!

no, we are not trying to claim they are embezzling this money or that it is a scam. we believe they are just super incompetent with their money. case in point: that surplus that they have? only earned them $146 USD in interest in 2022, because only about $10,000 USD of their money invested in an interest-bearing account. that’s the interest they earn off of MILLIONS. at the very least they should be using this extra money to generate new revenue – which would also help with their long-term financial security – but they can’t even do that

no, they do not need this money to use if they are sued. you can read more about this in the full post, but essentially, they get most of their legal services donated, and they have not, themselves, said this money is for that purpose

i'm not going to go through my process for determining the updated 2024 numbers because i want to get this post out quickly, and otw actually had not updated the sources i needed to get these numbers until the last couple days (seriously, i've been checking), but you can easily recreate the process that @manogirl and i outlined last year with these documents:

otw’s 2022 audited financial statement, to determine how much money they had at the end of 2022

otw’s 2024 budget spreadsheet, to determine their net income in 2023 and how much they transferred to and from reserves at the beginning of 2024

otw’s 2022 form 990 (also available on propublica), which is a tax document, and shows how much interest they earned in 2022 (search “interest” and you’ll find it in several places)

also, otw has not been accountable to answering questions about their surplus. typically, they hold a public meeting with their finance committee every year in september or october so people can ask questions directly to their treasurer and other committee members; as you can imagine, after doing this deep dive last summer, i was looking forward to getting some answers at that meeting!

but they cancelled that meeting in 2023, and instead asked people to write to the finance committee through their contact us form online. fun fact: i wrote a one-line message to the finance committee on may 11, 2023 through that form, when @manogirl and i were doing this research, asking them for clarification on how much they have in their reserves. i have still not received a response.

so yeah. please spend your money on people who actually need it, like on mutual aid requests! anyone who wants to share their mutual aid requests, please do so in the replies and i’ll share them out – i didn’t want to link directly to individual requests without permission in case this leads to anyone getting harassed, but i would love to share your requests. to start with, here's operation olive branch and their ongoing spreadsheet sharing palestinian folks who need money to escape genocide.

oh, and if you want to write to otw and tell them why you are not donating, i'm not sure it’ll get any results, but it can’t hurt lol. here's their contact us form – just don’t expect a response! ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

#ao3 #otw #archive of our own #organization for transformative works #ao3 is not your savior #and they don't need your money #otw finances

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theminecraftbee · 2 months

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being in true sexyman nostalgia mode today (on account of. IT'S BEEN ONE YEAR BABY.) i think one of the most fascinating things about it is that we will never manage to do that again. like, not in a "we couldn't organize it better" way; there were better ways to do the spreadsheet, we would just turn off comments on posts and anon asks from day one so that we wouldn't then get people accusing us of censorship while we tried and failed to control the tide of things that ended up in the comments and inbox, we'd definitely have a WAY higher non-hermit contingent, both thanks to qsmp and thanks to the sexyman blog and medusa now having MUCH wider reach to other corners of the fandom and the original spread not all rooting at me, etc.

but the reason we couldn't do it again is that i don't know if we could ever replicate the exact circumstances that lead to it blowing up quite to the extent it blew up.

it was while tumblr polls and doing tumblr poll brackets on tumblr itself was still new-ish, and people were still excited about them. the idea of a mcytblr bracket was basically brand new; i won't claim we did it FIRST (because i have no idea if we did and doubt we did), but certainly we did it big first. so there's that; we can never again invent in real time "shit people are sending us threats about fraud lets legalize fraud because its funny, we can't stop it, and that neutralizes that drama as a thing anyone will take seriously", and then in turn accidentally invent a fandom culture of. um. wide-spread voter fraud.

(i don't know if we should apologize for, uh, causing the specific way mcytblr voter frauds. i still think it was better than the alternative at least, especially after seeing how so many other polls crashed and burned after us. there were MANY things we could have done better but i have seen SO MANY ways we could have done things worse since then so i think we came out looking pretty okay.)

but also: february 2023 was a very different time in mcytblr. we were in a hermitcraft dead period, where most of the hermits were either on vacation or playing tcg (which was fun, but didn't end up generating that much fandom activity by that time in february). the former dsmp crew was very much doing Nothing (and in that awkward space when the entire fandom knew dsmp 2 was never happening, but also people were still claiming it would happen, so it was just... busy waiting). qsmp didn't exist yet. there was no ongoing life series and wouldn't be for some time. i think even the dominioners and lifestealers were in a fairly dead zone. there was very little new for people to be excited about, mcyt content-wise.

enter: our poll. our poll which cleo then thinks its funny to call out on twitter. our poll, which was not only new mcyt content for the fandom to interact with (thanks to the fact we KEPT GETTING CC INTERACTIONS???), but participatory.

for about two weeks, we were the mcyt event de jour.

and like. the thing is. now we're in february 2024. mcyt is BOOMING. a new hermitcraft season JUST STARTED. we came off of vault hunters before that. meanwhile, qsmp just restarted and is, if i'm understanding correctly, booming. they just added a new guy! the two current juggernauts of the fandom are in FULL SWING. i honestly think we'd be somewhat overtaken by the fact things are actually happening in fandom. there's stuff to do that ISN'T go insane about a poll.

and it's not new, and we've seen it all before now, and frankly, it's hard to cause a mass hysteria event TWICE. lightning in a bottle, as they say.

i think part of the reason we all just REMEMBER mcytblr sexyman so much is that we could never, ever recreate it, so it remains crystalized in a single moment in time, impossible to replicate, forever memorable.

anyway: HAPPY ONE YEAR TO THE JOE HILLS SWEEP BABY,

#mcytblr sexyman #sorry i'm in nostalgia mode and feel like rambling. o7 happy one year to joe's victory

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genderkoolaid · 11 months

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have u seen the post going around that makes a big deal of how lesbians can and do date gender weird ppl and then adds on a whole addition about how they ABSOLUTELY STILL DONT DATE MEN. and finishes with "lesbians do get with genderweird folks AND still do not get with men. both are true." just say you dont believe multigender people are valid and go

goddddddd these fuckin people

Not only do multigender people exist, but also:

There are trans men who were cis lesbians and transition. Their lesbian partners can stay with them and, while some may identify as bisexual, others will identify as lesbians! Not because they misgender their partners, but because lesbianism has always been a space for transmasculinity & those who love it! Their trans male husbands may even identify as lesbians still, or maybe straight men!

Even transness nonwithstanding... sometimes lesbians fuck men. People will make posts about lesbians thinking a twink is a butch and finding him hot but I'm sorry, sometimes a twink and a dyke will have sex for fun because they want to. Sometimes a woman who's never had a crush on a man in her life will fall for one guy, even a cis guy, because human attraction is crazy like that. None of that means anything for lesbians who never want to date or fuck a cis (or trans) man. It means absolutely nothing for you.

Like. I always think "lesbians can't date or sleep with men? Who are you to tell lesbians what they can and can't do? Lesbians will do whatever the hell they want."

This all on top of the inherent fucking nonsense of "lesbians can date genderweird folks but still don't get with men!!!" like I really need people to grasp the concept that trying to categorize genderweird people into "man" and "not man" is just never not going to be exorsexist. Sorry you can't reduce it down to "butches who are transmasc and maybe use he/him or go by "boyfriend" but they never ever ever feel like a boy or man at all which means they are Good and Acceptable To Fuck" its so ridiculous. lesbian sexuality & romance & community is so much cooler and more beautifully diverse than the fucking spreadsheet ass people could ever imagine.

#sexuality is like the amazon rainforest not a lab-grown petri dish you squares #m.#ask box

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upsidedownsmore · 3 months

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ENTRIES CLOSED, reblogs turned off, thank you everyone for entering and sharing your wonderful works!!

A compilation of every entry piece can be found here!

The winner is @mugbearerscorner and the information has been confirmed in DMs!!

Roll proof:

A link to the full spreadsheet of entries can be found here!

I'm so so grateful to all the people who participated in this event!! I'm so happy with how well it turned out and I'm so so thankful to be able to host it!!! Love you all!! :) :) :)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

GAUSS PRIME ACCESS GIVEAWAY!

* Provided by Digital Extremes! Info about the prime access here.

To enter, simply reblog with your art of ANY warframe giving a thumbs up!

Giveaway entries will close on FEBRUARY 10TH at 10:00pm CST

The post for the above drawing (with reference screenshot and wips) can be found here.

MORE INFO UNDER THE READ LINE, PLEASE READ IT IF YOU WANT TO ENTER

Notes:

This is not a contest! The winner will be decided entirely randomly, image quality will have no effect on chances of winning! Make whatever you can in any medium you want! (This can also include 3D mediums! The only thing I'm not including is unedited game screenshots/captura, though edited might be okay). Everyone can draw regardless of how good you think your own skills are!

Please submit your own drawing(s)!! Only one is necessary but you can make more if you want of course! Do not use any AI generation tools for your entry.

When reblogging it might be a good idea to enter some text either in the post or in the tags! It turns out reblogs with just an image and nothing else might not show up under the original post, which means I might miss your submission!

Only one entry per person, you will not get more entries for additional reblogs and/or drawings.

The goal of this is for the community to have a fun little gallery of warframe thumb ups in the reblogs, but again don't stress over how "good" your drawing is! As long as you have fun and submit something vaguely in line with the prompt you're good! (such as a wave instead of a thumbs up or an operator instead of a warframe, etc. Up to you how closely you want to follow the prompt!)

You DO NOT need to engage with me in any other way (likes, follows, etc.) to enter, just a reblog with a drawing loosely following the prompt!

This giveaway will only run here on Tumblr due to issues with bots and impersonation on Twitter. The issue of course is that the only way to submit images under a single post on Tumblr is through reblogs, but please know that I do not intend this to be a means of promotion. If people could submit images in the replies I would gladly take that option! If this post gets taken down I will look into other giveaway options.

As this is my first giveaway as a Warframe creator please let me know if I've made any mistakes!

Here are some example drawings that would all work, but of course whatever you want to make shouldn't be limited to this!

Inspired by @ritens, I will be assigning one unique number per individual and then throwing them into the random number generator on random.org. After the entries close and I roll the winner, I will update this post with the winner's name and a message saying that the giveaway is closed. Reblogs will also be turned off once the giveaway is closed, as I am only using reblogs as means of congregating drawing submissions under one post during the giveaway period.

Whoever's number get's chosen will be contacted via DMs here on Tumblr, so please make sure your DMs are open! I will be asking for your Warframe IGN and platform so DE can give send over your prize! If you have cross-save linked or merged then please tell me, though I will also be asking in DMs as well. If the winner doesn't respond within 48 hours or no longer wants the prime access pack, then I will roll a new winner with the same method but with the previous winner(s) number(s) taken out of the pool.

Topmost drawing without giveaway text:

Anyways good luck and most importantly have fun!!

#free wf pa #warframe #gauss prime #my art #warframe gauss prime #UpsideDownSmore's art #warframe fanart #gauss prime access #wf tag #wf #warframe gauss #can't believe i can do one of these now woah #still absolutely surreal #probably way too much effort for this lol #but it was good practice at least and i'm really happy with the result!#praying this works i've spent too long cobbling this together lol

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absolutebl · 5 months

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This Week in BL - a shocking upset to the rankings

Organized, in each category, by ones I'm enjoying most at the top.

Nov 2023 Wk 4

Ongoing Series - Thai

My Dear Gangster Oppa (Thurs iQIYI) ep 5 of 8 - It remains absolutely delightful. We already knew this pair does boyfriends damn near perfectly. It’s a pleasure to watch them as a couple, coupling all over our screen. The relationship does feel a bit rushed but frankly I like the pacing, it’s kind of Korean style which makes sense considering the original IP.

The Sign (Sat YT) ep 1 of 10 - You know what this is? It’s FUN is what it is. I haven’t felt this way about a BL in a while. Sure is has an uneven story, fight sequences, pacing, and acting but still… yay! Billy is great, he very good at thirst. It’s a crime Lee Long Shi isn’t in this, but otherwise weeeeeeeeee!

(Also was that Bangsean I spotted?)

Last Twilight (Fri YT) ep 3 of 12 - The montage of them learning and training together was so stinking cute I can hardly contain myself. Plus a little language play? (Did you catch the added “na” on to thank you? Gah! So sweet.) Have mercy. I love the banter that these two can execute so smoothly. It reminds me the most of TayNew back in their Kiss days. Or Nanon & Ohm in Bad Buddy.

There’s this breezy casualness to friendships and long-term relationships that Asian BLs seem to find really hard to execute (I’m thinking about something like Hospital Playlist as the best example). It’s more a friend chemistry than a lover chemistry, although of course it can morph into that.

Anyway, I am waffling, but I’m loving this show. (The bit with the teacher made me cry.) I also really love how much actual Bangkok we’re getting from it for a change.

Finally... how much did @respectthepetty and I love the pink milk shirt moment? SO MUCH. Color theory, plot devise, fashion, food, and a trope reference all in one. Well done GMMTV! Very well done.

Twins the series (Fri GaGa) ep 4 of 10 - I would like it if we got onto the BL section of this BL. Please and thank you.

Pit Babe (Fri iQIYI) ep 2 of 14 - it's delightfully trashy, btu slightly less trashy than last week because they introduced AlanJeff who are my new babies of age gap delight and you cannot have them. THEY ARE MINE. Also Way. WAY IS MINE. Also, I decided to do a trash watch.

Bake Me Please (Mon Gaga) ep 1 of 6 - It’s nice. It’s fine. Atmospheric and pretty and full of deserts. What’s not to love? Is it inspired? No. Definitely has an Antique Bakery (play it again, BL). But I do love food based cinema.

Middleman’s Love (Fri YT & iQIYI ep 3 of 8 - What’s annoying is that this could’ve been so good. It’s a poster child for squandered potential.

Absolute Zero (Weds iQIYI) ep 9 of 12 - Because of the temporal paradox, and Thai BL not being all that great on narrative consistency anyway, this is a confusing piece as well as a painful one. Now Ongsa seems to be nothing more than a stalker who cries all the time.

Playboyy (Thurs Gaga) 2 of 14(!) eps - This really feels like Thailand is trying to relive the gory days of Japan's pinks. I wasn’t into it then and I’m certainly not into it now. It’s a mess and weirdly mechanically not sexy. I’ll stay watching it but, like Only Friends, I don’t think I’m gonna warm to it. I just don’t like shows where there are no likable characters.

Also imma say it, so plug your assears. This is about as deep as a dildo can go. Which is to say, the size queens seem to be finding it more deep than the rest of us who are already bottoming out. Just make sure you're taking adequate lube prep with your psyches.

My Universe (Sun iQIYI) Friends Forever ep 14 of 24 - No thank you. 1/10

I've decided, for spreadsheet reasons, that each of these is going to be tracked as its own 2 part show.

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

A Breeze of Love (Korea iQIYI) eps 5-6 of 8 - The shopping together scene was absolutely darling. But I’m getting a little frustrated not knowing exactly what happened in the past.

VIP Only (Taiwan Fri Gaga) ep 1-2 of 10 - Of course it starts with the crash into me trope, oh Taiwan. It’s cute enough, I love the support cast, and it’s always nice to have something from my favorite tiny island on my dash.

You tell me: is it safe?

One Room Angel (Japan Gaga) 6 eps - This one finished. It's an adaptation of Harada’s manga (which I did not like and dnf'd) about a clerk who nearly dies and ends up cohabitating with an angel. Thoughts? Is it sad? Is it meh? TELL ME!

It's Airing But...

The Whisperer (Sun ????) 1 of 10 - Thai horror BL that ALSO involves cheating (what joy is mine). He has dimples (My Ride) but I don't think even that gives me the will. You can tell me how this goes if you can find it.

SHADOW (Thai Gaga) 14 eps - I'm not wild about Thai horror (or horror at all) even one featuring Singto and Fluke. I'm holding off. If told it's good, I'll binge.

7 Days Before Valentine (Weds WeTV) ep 1 of 10 - trailer here, horror-esk. Adapted from y-novel of the same name, directed by Tu (180 Degree) stars Jet (Why You… Y Me?). Giving me Luminous Solution vibes, so I'm waiting to binge if told it's safe.

Beyond The Star (Weds iQIYI) 8 eps - House of Stars meets Boyband. I was NOT impressed with ep one. Waiting to be told if I should bother.

What Did You Eat Yesterday Season 2 AKA Kinou Nani Tabeta? Season 2 (Japan Gaga) 10 eps - I find this series more fun to binge, so I'm waiting until it completes its run.

In case you missed it

I posted 20 BLs with the BEST Thirst! and decided to distinguish the different type son need in BL as follows:

Thirst wants to slide a hand under his waistband right tf now and grind.

Horny wants to rip his clothes off, and probably pop buttons and laugh about it.

Yearning wants to run both hands up his back while they kiss deeply.

Hunger wants to lift him by the ass and slam him against the wall.

Next Week Looks Like This

(Today) 11/26 Cooking Crush (Sun YT) 1 of 12 - OffGun are back, trailer here. Adapted from the novel “Love Course! เสื้อกาวน์รุกเสื้อกุ๊กรับ” by iJune4S this is about Prem who runs a not-so-popular restaurant with 2 friends. About to go on a cooking competition with a huge reward, Prem gets involved with Ten, a stressed-out med student who wants Prem to teach him to cook.

11/30 For Him (Thurs iQIYI) ep 1 of 10 - high heat trailer From the people who brought us Unforgotten Night (please no) based on a y-novel, man nursing a heartbreak has a one-night stand, but the other boy didn't want it to end. It looks terribly trashy so I'm in!

Original 2023 forthcoming BL master post (see comments, some are inaccurate, NOT KEPT UPDATED).

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

Look at how gd cute they are!

Ah yes... (both Last Twilight)

We stan a supportive bestie/brother (orphans together? - not sure on the backstory)

It is a rule universally aknowledged that an cutie in a baceball cap must get his brim tweaked. (all from The Sign)

Way is the best.

I kinda love the BTS for Pit Babe.

(Last week)

#this week in bl #bl updates #bl review #My Dear Gangster Oppa #thai bl #the sign the series #Last Twilight #gmmtv #JimmySea #TayNew #ohmnanon #One Room Angel #japanese bl #pit babe the series #Twins the series #playboyy the series

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verifying-gimmick-posts · 6 months

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Could you verify the blog @i-say-ok ?

I'm not sure if it is genuine...

My initial thought was to check every post and reblog on this blog to see if anything other than "ok." has ever been posted, however this blog has seemingly been used as a personal blog for almost a year now with well over 3,000 posts, so instead I just spent an hour scrolling through each month on the Archive page. My hope was to create a spreadsheet, but this is the best I could do in my time.

Semantically, you could argue that from their first reblog they said something other thank "ok", that being "ok." with a period, but it's obvious the goal of this blog is just to respond to everything with a variation on "ok" and not exclusively "ok" in lowercase with no formatting. However, they have in the past used words other than "ok" in the tags when contextually appropriate (f-slur in source). The full list of words they've said in the tags, according to the Tumblr Archive page from Dec 3 2022 to Oct 27 2023, are as follow:

bugs

eyestrain

flash

flashing

long

minor

post

slur

transphobes

unreality

warning

Counting the blog name, they've also said "i" and "say".

In terms of variations on "ok", the blog has used:

Punctuation marks (question marks, exclamation points, ellipsis, variations and combinations thereof, etc) [secondary source containing post content instead of tags]

Differing capitalization

Repetition

Emoticon

Emoji

Ascii art, font colors, typographical symbols

Strikethrough

Differing text formatting

There isn't typically much to verify with gimmick blogs that are just doing a consistent bit compared to gimmick blogs claiming to present facts (thus the lack of verification status), especially considering how such aforementioned blogs work solely off of semantics and their own loosely defined (if any) rules. Despite this, I had fun navigating this blog in order to determine what the unspoken rules of "i-say-ok" are. For instance, "Okay" is not allowed. [1] [2] [3] [4] [5]

#i-say-ok #viewer suggestion

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artsyunderstudy · 2 months

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hey i’ve read someone wicked 3 times and it never fails to leave me emotionally distraught for days afterwards (compliment!) the epilogue literally rips out my heart every time. this is going to sound so stupid, but why did you make the choice to keep simon in the escort business alongside being in a monogamous relationship? i completely respect that it’s a professional career, but def a hurtful/unsustainable one for someone in a relationship, and simon’s not really sticking to it because he HAS to (he has other profitable skills, weldwork, construction, etc). so why did he stick to it even though they’d both be better off without?

Hello! So, first thank you, I'm very glad you enjoyed the fic enough to read it multiple times. It's very near and dear to my heart.

This doesn't sound stupid. Writing it, I did realize that people would wonder about this. And that some people would feel quite negatively about it. But it was very important to me that the end of this story not be Simon leaving his job.

I'll try to condense my feelings about it as much as possible but this will probably be long.

This story is about a lot of things, but one of those things, one of the most important things, is about freedom from sexual repression. Baz comes to Simon in the beginning of the story all bottled up about his sexuality and the act of sex itself, even within the context of masturbation. He has a lot of shame around all of it. It's mirrored throughout his life in his schooling choices, how he interacts with family and friends.

Simon represents freedom for him, and through their relationship and his acceptance and love of who Simon is, all of who he is, he comes to accept who he is and what he wants. I felt very strongly that it'd be disingenuous to tell a story about escaping shame around sex just to turn around and say that Simon has to leave his profession of sex work to pursue a romantic relationship. That his work, since it's sexual in nature, is incompatible with it. We wouldn't expect someone in any other profession to leave their job, their security, to pursue a relationship.

I did not go into it, and maybe I should have but I also had feelings about the need to justify his decision, but ultimately it was not reasonable for Simon to immediately leave his job, even if he wanted to. He does make art, but the art he makes requires expensive materials, and it's slow to create and slow to sell, and he's in his early 20's in London. He needs a steady income. He came to work for the escort service because it offered him good pay and protections (sex work is legal in the UK) with very flexible hours, and allowed him to actively pursue art on the side, something not a lot of other jobs could have given him. I think about how hard it is, simply writing fanfiction and doing fanart for fun, and I often lose sleep trying to do all of it.

Could Baz have afforded to take care of both of them? Probably, eventually, but they didn't immediately live together, and Simon wouldn't have wanted to be financially dependent on Baz. That's no good for a relationship either, not a new one. In my mind, once they move in together and pool their income, Simon spends more time in the studio, less time doing escort work, until he feels secure enough to move to art full-time.

I do agree that this is a particularly difficult job to have alongside a monogamous relationship. That's one of the main reasons I wanted to have that in the epilogue, them learning how to make it work. I did a lot of research about this by reading accounts from sex workers on message boards and how they approach their own relationships, and while this is complicated it's not at all uncommon, and you can still thrive.

The main thing I learned is that it is not a romantic profession. Many people who do sex work talk about it very much with the same level of titillation I might talk about my excel spreadsheets at work (maybe even less, I love excel) There is a disconnect that most people have with the work that they do, even if parts of it are fun, and parts of it are fulfilling. I tried as much as I could to honor that perspective.

All that being said, it's okay if you didn't like it or agree with it. I don't discount that for a lot of people, this doesn't work. It's not a fairytale ending. But it just felt like the right ending for me.

#someone wicked #artsyfic #ask #hopefully i articulated this well #ive literally had hours long conversations about this decision with a number of people #its hard to distill

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party-hearses · 10 months

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i am a nightmare, you are a miracle // 1

i'll bury us both, fed to the night as ghosts

series masterlist | next chapter

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader, ex!Tommy Miller x f!reader (NO USE OF Y/N)

Summary: After your two year relationship with Tommy Miller ends, Joel takes you in — and it’s home like you’ve never quite known before.

Series Warnings/Tags: 18+ MDNI, language, infidelity, eventual smut, age difference, soft!joel, AU - no cordyceps outbreak, Sarah doesn’t exist (sorry), Tommy stans don’t come for me

Wordcount: 5.8 k

A/N: I’ll be honest — I have no idea what I’m doing. I haven’t written a fic in damn near 20 years, so I’m just kind of throwing this out into the void to see what happens. I'm playing fast and loose with years and ages; it's 2023 and there's no outbreak. Also, not a personal fan of the ‘brothers’ trope, but…here we are.

…I can’t wait until your next business trip…

You press the heels of your hands into your eyes as hard as you can. Who even uses email to have an affair, anymore?

…miss your hands…

The words are hot against your eyelids, seared into your line of vision, despite the dull ache from your own hands. It had been a week, and the wound still feels gaping — all consuming, bitter pain licking at your insides what feels like every minute of the day.

“Dammit, peach. I’ve barely seen you in a week and a half, and this is the bullshit you start?”

“Oh, so it’s my fault that you’re having an affair?”

“I didn’t say that!”

Tommy’s eyes wild, hands on his hips, southern drawl like syrup over each syllable.

“You’re always workin’. In meetings. Pourin’ yourself into spreadsheets and budgets. What am I s’posed to do?”

His hands in the air, desperate, shoulders hunched.

“Still sounds a lot like you’re blaming me.”

You can feel the tears well up, and you swallow hard to stop them. Do not cry at work. Do NOT cry at work. You breathe deep, the burning in your lungs waning, but not extinguishing. The usual busy noises of your office are absent today, save the soft purr of the air conditioning and the receptionist’s furious clicking at her keyboard. Even the phones are silent; no frantic calls from upstairs to divert your attention from the constant replay of that night.

Finally feeling steady enough to remove your hands from your eyes, you lock your fingers together and lay your cheek on top of them. Everything feels heavy — your workload, your personal life, your head. Your gaze slowly flickers to the office window, the sunlight streaming through, the heat scorching. It seems to call out to your blood, making you feel restless, agitated, but also so fucking tired.

Sleep had eluded you since Tommy had left, and you’d barely been able to steal moments here and there, between dinner for one on the couch and the canned laughs of late-night talk shows. How different your life had been even two weeks ago.

“Did you bring lunch?”

Abruptly brought back to earth, your eyes snap up to the face of your colleague, Ava.

“Um, yeah. Just some veggie sticks and hummus. I, uh, haven’t been feeling terribly hungry.” You smile weakly, the attempt at a joke feeling like a weight around your neck.

Ava nods in understanding, her eyes sympathetic. She had been the second person you’d called the next morning, after your older sister. Kit, five years your senior, had answered, already sounding distracted by her two young children.

“Well, girl, I can’t say I didn’t tell you so. Getting involved with a man seventeen years older than you…”

While Kit had been hard and borderline disinterested, Ava had served as a warm landing for your sobbing, rushing to the empty apartment on a Saturday morning to soothe you.

“It’s Friday. We can duck out early, grab a drink? You could use one, and Jackson isn’t back from his meeting upstairs.” Ava checks her watch, confirming. “It’s not like anyone will even miss us.”

Ava is dependable, fun, beautiful. Her cool California attitude compliments her chic New York style, but she had called Austin home since college. She could wrap anyone around her finger with ease, and her insistence on being your friend made your heart clench.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’d like that.” You nod solemnly, tears now pricking at your eyes from the tenderness you feel towards her.

She meets the tenderness with a wide grin. “Knew you would, doll.”

As you turn to gather your bag, a sudden lightning bolt of fear strikes you.

“Av, what if he’s there? What if we see him?”

She swallows down a laugh. “Tommy Miller? Downtown?” She leans closer to you, raising her eyebrows. “He wouldn’t be caught dead at Taquero Mucho. Not willingly, at least.”

Ava is right, as always. The lush pink floral interior and neon signage on the walls of the restaurant do not, and would not, mesh with Tommy Miller’s bearish sensibilities. You instantly feel more at ease, letting Ava order pink, fruity drinks for the both of you.

One cocktail turns into two turns into three, and the warm buzz in your veins settles your mind for the time being. Ava sits across from you, happily munching on tortilla chips and chattering away.

“I couldn’t believe Belinda said that! Like, retire already, grandma.” She grins, rolling her eyes.

You chuckle, only half hearing the story she’s been telling. Noticing, she gently shifts in her seat, drawing closer to you.

“Doll, I’m sorry to have been chatting your ear off. You know how I get. Let’s hear- ah, wait!” She notices your empty glass, and as if she had snapped her fingers, the server materializes.

“Two more, please.” She nods toward the server, who rushes away to put the order in, lest they keep Ava waiting. “Okay. So… what are you going to do? We need to get you out of that apartment. And since you refuse to stay with me…”

Your gaze drops to your hands in your lap. If you thought crying at work was bad, crying at lunch was worse. You clear your throat, eyes catching your chipped fingernail polish.

“I don’t know, Av. He- it’s his apartment. It’s not like I don’t make enough to get something on my own, but… I don’t know. It all feels so empty.”

Ava nods as the server places two more pink cocktails on the table. Mouthing a quick ‘thank you’ to him, she reaches for it before responding.

“Where’s he staying? And for how long?”

“His brother’s. Said he’ll give me as much time as I need…but I don’t want to be there anymore. I don’t feel like I can be. Maybe I should get out of Austin?”

Ava raises an eyebrow. “I don’t think so. You can’t let him run you out of town! That’s outrageous. He’s not even worth that.” She rolls her eyes again.

You reach for your drink, sipping it slowly, willing it to quiet the bitter fire in your blood.

“Peach, come on. I- I didn’t mean it. It didn’t mean anything. You’re gonna throw two years away over a one time thing? A-a mistake?”

“It should have never happened, Tommy! Fucking a client? And I know it wasn’t just once! What the fuck were you thinking?”

Tommy’s eyes soften, but he doesn’t speak. His hand goes to the back of his neck, kneading.

“Guess I wasn’t thinkin’.”

Tommy had shattered you. Betrayed you. Split you open and cut your insides out. But you couldn’t bring yourself to say that he wasn’t a good man. Complicated? Yes. Hard to read? Yes. Prone to making colossal fucking mistakes? Absolutely. But you knew, deep down, that he wasn’t bad.

You shake your head at Ava slowly, sadly. “I don’t know what I did wrong, Av. Two years. I don’t know what happened.”

Your eyes well up, and this time you can’t stop the tears. You sniffle, wiping them away quickly, as Ava puts her hand on your forearm.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, doll. He’s the one who fucked up. He’s the one who ruined everything.”

“H-he said I work too much. I’m ‘not there’ enough. And…and…the worst p-part is, I don’t think he’s wrong!” It takes everything in you not to wail. You squeeze your eyes shut tightly, trying to focus on the in-out in-out of your breathing.

Ava signals for the check, another of her magic abilities. You can feel the server’s eyes on you as he brings it, quietly clicking his tongue against his teeth. Another sad drunk girl. Tsk, tsk. It’s barely 3 o’clock. Ava hums softly, scribbling her signature on the receipt.

“There’s not a justification in the world for what he chose to do. You worked hard for your career, busted your ass to be where you’re at. It’s no excuse for him to have a full-blown affair with a client.” She closes the receipt inside the booklet and stands. “Now let’s get you home, so you can cry it out in peace.”

Unlocking the door of the apartment fills you with dread. The key feels unwieldy in your hand, and you consider for a split second whether it will feel daunting or freeing to give it back to Tommy. You let yourself in, the apartment hauntingly empty — just as you had left it, just as it had been for the past seven nights.

You’ve only spoken to Tommy sparingly over the course of the week. A few short texts here and there, mostly about the logistics of the arrangement you are both now navigating. He had left for Joel’s late the night it happened, a duffel bag slung low over his shoulder, slamming the door on his way out.

“This it, peach?”

…miss your hands…

Dropping your bag next to the front door, the tears don’t stop once they start.

Ava had offered to come up, but you knew you couldn’t let her. She didn’t deserve to have to wallow with you, no matter how much she wanted to be there for you.

It had been a good distraction, lunch with her, but you still didn’t know what your plan was. Where you’d be going, where you’d be living.

Hugging yourself, you shuffle into the guest bathroom to wash your face. After Tommy had left, you’d moved everything you needed out of the main bedroom and bathroom, suddenly feeling like a trespasser there.

Had he brought her here? Did she sleep in this bed? Did they talk about the future together? What does Joel think?

The last question to run through your mind catches you by surprise, a small gasp escaping your lips. What does Joel think?

If Tommy was stoic and gruff, Joel was downright intimidating. You’ve only seen him smile a few times, and you can count on one hand the number of times you’ve heard him laugh. He wasn’t, however, unkind, taking to calling you by the same nickname Tommy had, albeit a bit awkwardly at first. Like he couldn’t form his mouth around the languid, round letters - p e a c h. Angular as he was, he had always made you feel welcome, in his own, quiet way, teasing Tommy about you being out of his league. The familial resemblance was strong between the brothers, with their dark waves and warm eyes. But something about Joel made your soul clench, as if he had curved his fingers around your ribs and impressed himself upon your heart. He was comfortable, in a cloudy way — never revealing himself, but not pressuring you to, either. Amicable silence, as it were.

Thinking about Joel calling you out of Tommy’s league makes you scoff, now.

“The rich client with the kitchen remodel isn’t too out of his league, is she?” You mumble to yourself, cold water pooling between your palms.

“I don’t want it to end this way, peach.”

“I didn’t want it to end at all, Tommy.”

You bring the water to your face, scrubbing away the salt of dried tears and sting of betrayal.

The sun had dipped below the horizon when you wake up later on the couch. Fumbling for your phone with one hand, you rub your eyes with the other. As you check the time, your phone alerts you to two new text messages, delivered two hours ago.

Tommy Miller: Will you be home tonight? Tommy Miller: I need to stop by to get a few things.

Your hands tremble as you read and reread the messages. You rub your eyes again, unsure if you’re understanding the text in front of you clearly. It doesn’t change. Panic rises in your throat, searing and sour.

A vicious cross between fury and complete despair surges through you, and you drop your phone into your lap. Tears pinch at the backs of your eyes. Forget figuring out where to live, you hadn’t even considered how you’d next face Tommy.

I don’t want to see you, Tommy. Do you want to talk? I’ll be out, feel free to drop by. Please come home.

You weigh your options, constructing and dismantling multiple messages. Retrieving the phone, you pray he can’t see that abhorrent blue bubble that indicates you’re typing. That shows him you’re there.

As if he’d read your mind, your phone vibrates, his name and picture flashing on the screen. The picture gives you pause — a day you had spent on Lake Austin, the wind whipping through his hair, a broad smile on both of your faces. You feel like you’re going to be sick.

Focusing on your breathing, clenching your teeth, you accept the call.

“Hey, Tommy.” Your voice is small. So small. You feel your cheeks burn at how stupid you feel. You should be screaming at him — biting back the venom he instilled in you — but all you can manage is barely a whisper.

He sounds relieved. “Hey, peach. Didn’t know if I’d catch ya.”

You hum discontentedly. How can he be so cool about this?

“Uhhh, well, I, uh, need to stop by the apartment tonight to grab some things. Would that be okay?”

You don’t know what to say. Would it be okay?

“It’s your apartment.”

The response surprises you, that same venom bubbling over without your permission.

Tommy sighs.

“I don’t want it to be like this, darlin’. Can we talk? Please?”

“Can you make it here without sleeping with a client?”

Tommy laughs hollowly. “Guess I deserve that. Sassy today, huh?”

You picture him then, on Joel’s couch, fidgeting with the hem of his button down with his free hand. Pressed against the cushions, eyes to the ceiling. Gently annoyed with you for ignoring his texts. Football would be switched on in the background, and your heart thrums when you think of Joel being there, watching him. What does Joel think?

You clear your throat, refocusing your attention.

“Let’s get this over with, Tommy.”

Sassy, indeed.

It was easier to be hard over the phone, joined by nothing more than wires somewhere in space. But as Tommy stands in front of you now, elbows on the kitchen island, hands stretching towards you, all you feel is the velvety pull of attraction. The soft lull of two years spent shrouded in each other.

His voice is low, but soft — practically a purr.

“Baby. How do we move past this?”

You don’t meet his gaze, wrapping your arms around yourself. Looking at anything but him, anything but those warm eyes. You know that if you do, it will be over.

“Tommy…I don’t know if I can. I don’t know if it’s that easy. You had an affair. You didn’t forget to take the trash out, or-or-or make a shitty comment about my friends. You slept with someone! You had a relationship with her.” Your voice is measured, eyes dragging from the floor to the ceiling. Avoiding.

“What can I do, peach? Please, just tell me. I’ll do anything.”

“It doesn’t change what happened.” You cross your arms over your chest, defiant now. “It won’t change what happened.”

Exasperated, Tommy slams his hand on the counter, drawing his body to its full height. He’s broad — so broad — his shoulders squared.

“I get it, okay? I fucked up. You’ve made it clear. Joel has made it clear. I fuckin’ get it!” He clenches his fists, bringing them up to his face. “I fuckin’ get it.”

You drop your eyes instantly as your pulse quickens. “What do you mean, Joel made it clear?”

Tommy sighs, deeply, not removing his hands from his face. “Joel will barely fuckin’ talk to me. Can’t get more’n two words out of him. Said he doesn’t blame you for bein’ done with me. Said I know better. And you know what? Yeah, he’s right. I do. Can’t even argue with’m.”

You hum cooly in agreement, your pulse thrumming in your ears. There is a sudden acute awareness of the change taking place in your perception of Tommy following his words; he’s been wrenched open and put on display for you, and the need to step back from the jarring offering is nearly suffocating.

“Okay. Okay.” Hands falling to his waist, revealing his eyes. Bloodshot, tired. Surrendering, but sharp. His voice, softer now, velvet dipped in whiskey. “I’m sorry, peach. I can’t even tell you how sorry I am. I wish I could take it all back. I…I know I really fucked up.”

You hold his desperate gaze for a moment before lowering your eyes to the floor again.

“Tommy… ” His name splintering across your lips. “I can’t do this. I can’t do this.” That small voice again, cracking. Shattering. Sparkling pieces scattered across the kitchen floor around your feet. Meeting his offering with outstretched, empty palms. Nothing left to give.

He drops his head, tucking his chin to his chest, and exhales a shaky breath. “Okay, peach. I hear ya.”

You can see his eyes bright with unshed tears. This is the softness that you know, that you’ve craved. The hushed tenderness that you’d shared beneath bed sheets, woven between fingertips brushed against silk skin, delicate whispers in the dark of a once shared bedroom.

As good as strangers, now.

The silence settles between you, mourning both what once was and could have been.

When the door closes with Tommy on the other side of it, it feels final. An unfamiliar liquid sense of relief floods your veins, and you breathe deeply. For the first time in a week, you feel like you can suck in enough air to actually fill your lungs. You hadn’t recognized the somber, weepy creature you’d become, and you were sure no one else had, either. Ava had treated you like you were made of glass, afraid you would shatter at any moment. And as much as you had needed that, your stomach twisted into knots at feeling so helpless. Ending things with Tommy — officially — felt like giving yourself permission to dig out the shards and stitch the wound.

You take in the room around you - a blanket strewn across the arm of the couch, wine glasses littering the coffee table, bottles lined up on the floor in front of it. You shake your head, in something that feels a little like disbelief. The reality of leaving this apartment - your home - had begun to truly set in, but the question of where you would land hung heavy in the air.

Of course Kit would take you in, if she wasn’t multiple states and thousands of miles away. Ava was an option, having offered her couch to you almost the moment she found out, but you had leaned so heavily on her already that taking more would have made you feel too guilty. A hotel would be too expensive for an open-ended move out date, though the prospect of not having to make your own bed or wash your own sheets was tempting.

Dropping yourself onto the couch with a heavy sigh, you begin to aimlessly scroll through the contact list in your phone. You know, deep down, that it’s for show, though you don’t know for who. You know, too, that you’ll end up at Ava’s, despite your unwillingness to do so.

You lean back, pulling your legs up and stretching them across the cushions. Reaching across the empty wine glasses for the television remote, you click it on before throwing your arm over your eyes. You don’t care what’s on, you just need the sounds. Of people. Of laughing. Of life. Resigning yourself to calling Ava in the morning, you slip into a restless, dreamless sleep.

The Saturday morning sun finds you still curled up on the couch, your legs pulled close to your core. Without opening your eyes, you drop your hand to the floor, feeling for your phone. Finding it nestled partially beneath the frame of the couch, you bring it up to your face, cracking your eyes as little as possible to check the time. There’s a missed call, and when it catches your attention, your eyes fly open completely.

Joel Miller - 1 Missed Call & Voicemail

“What the fuuuuck… ” you mumble, swiping to your calls app and bringing the phone to your ear.

“Uh, hey peach. It’s Joel. Gimme a call back when you get this.”

You can’t quite place his tone of voice, and your hands tremble as your brain rolls through all the reasons he might be calling you. Did something happen? Is he angry that Tommy is still at his place? Is he angry that you ended it with Tommy? Is he going to try to convince you to take him back? You play the voicemail again, to see if you can catch any stormy inflections in his deep voice - though you glean nothing more than a hazy awareness of the hunger coursing through your blood when he speaks.

Finally sitting up and crossing your legs beneath you, you stare at the screen for what feels like an eternity. It’s not that Joel scares you, but you don’t know of any time that he’s called you for any reason. Worrying at your bottom lip with your teeth, you finally press the little image of a phone next to his name and wait for the call to connect.

“Yeah?” Joel’s tone is curt, and you can tell he’s at work based on the construction noises you hear in the background. It sets your teeth on edge. You squeeze your eyes shut, bracing yourself. Steeling your nerves.

“Heyjoelit’s-” you manage to squeak, before you recognize the quiet way his breath hitches.

“Peach.” and he’s soft. So soft. Softer than you’ve ever known him to be. And it’s your name on his tongue; honeyed and heavenly. You could drown in it.

“Hi,” you whisper. “I’m just…returning your call.”

He doesn’t answer immediately, but you hear the opening and closing of a door, the groan of an office chair, and then silence. You would think he’d hung up if you couldn’t hear his deep, even breathing.

“Peach,” he finally says again, and your skin flares. He clears his throat. “I—there’s— you doin’ okay?” His words are rushed, clumsy, as if he’s trying to get them all out at once. The thought that Joel Miller has anything to say to you, much less too much to say to you, clouds your mind. “Could kill Tommy. Fuckin’ bastard.”

You laugh once, idly. “I’m holdin’ it together, Joel.”

“Attagirl.”

Your skin prickles, and you draw in a surprised gasp.

He continues, unaware of the change in your breathing. “Look, I, uh, know you’re busy, so I’ll get t’the point. I’ve got an extra room. For you. If ya want it, I mean. I know you’re tryin’ to get out of Tommy’s place, and I’m not lookin’ to rush you or anythin’, just..wanted to offer it up. Rent free, ‘n all that.” You imagine him running his hands through his hair as he stumbles through his speech, clenching his teeth. “Least I could do, with my brother bein’ the dickhead he is.”

Oh. It’s pity — he feels sorry for you. You bite your tongue, sink your fingernails into your palm, force yourself to focus through the haze in your eyes. Stupid. Stupid girl.

“Joel, I—”

“I know ya probably have friends you can stay with. I’m not tryin’ t’be weir — peach, is this weird?” He’s lost in his own thoughts, but stops abruptly when the question escapes. He sounds just as surprised by it as you are.

It hangs in the air between you for a moment, and you relish just slightly in the idea that he’s floundering.

“I don’t need you to feel sorry for me.” you reply, gently. “I’m okay to figure something out on my own. I’m a big girl.”

“Oh, peach, no. No.” His response is quick, and firm; without any hesitancy, or a second thought. “Don’t for a minute think I don’t know how capable y’are. I know you can, I just don’t want you to have to.”

His words sizzle across your flesh, urgent and pleading. They leave you feeling dazed, unsure of the reality of the conversation. Your eyes flick to the furnishings of the apartment, desperate for something to ground you. Trepidation clutches at your throat, rendering you speechless.

Joel shifts in his chair, and you hear him let out a long breath. “I- I know we don’t know each other. I feel like I’m scarin’ you, darlin’.”

You shake your head, grasping for what to say. Chest tightening at the thought of his worry, the words fall out of your mouth before you can stop them. “What would Tommy say?”

It feels like a condemnation; speaking it aloud, between the two of you. As if it would make Joel suddenly realize how wrong it was, to ask this of you. To offer this to you.

“Tommy doesn’t get to say anythin’.” His whisper-soft tone now a growl, clawing at your insides. It covers you from head to toe, and you feel, for the first time in a very long time, shielded from the hurt. A hurt that exceeded the past week, or Tommy entirely. A hurt that was buried so far inside yourself that the aching reminder it even existed left you reeling. Tears prick at the back of your eyes, and you silently scold yourself for crying again.

The silence on the phone is comfortable, as if Joel knows that you’re digesting everything he’s saying. True to his word, he’s not rushing you — just sharing the space with you, allowing you to take it all in.

A loud knocking sounds from his end, and it snaps you out of your trance.

“Shit, sorry peach. I gotta go.” He sounds further away, muffled; the intimacy of the conversation shattered, as if you had imagined it altogether.

Then, abruptly, his warm, inviting timbre restored: “Please think about it. Bye, darlin’.”

“I mean, are you thinking about it?” Ava questions, her eyes on the shirt she’s folding. She’s cross legged on the floor, while you stack books in the cardboard box at your feet.

It hadn’t occurred to you how little you had to call your own, until you had to put it all in boxes.

You don’t respond to Ava’s question immediately, instead chewing on your bottom lip gently. Turning it over and over in your mind, formulating the most diplomatic response.

“How bad would it be if I was?” You avoid her eyes, which you know have turned to daggers at your back.

It’s her turn to mull the question over, bobbing her head side to side as she considers.

“Tommy’d be pissed.” It’s pointed, but not malicious. Honest. “But…we don’t care what Tommy thinks anymore, do we?”

You drop your head, smiling mildly behind the curtain of your hair. No, we in fact, do not.

“Plus, he’s very…handsome.” Ava chooses her words carefully, but you know to read between the lines: Joel is fuckin’ hot. “The whole ‘older man’ thing really works for you, babe.”

“Kit would be more upset than Tommy, I guarantee it.” You laugh softly, unable to help yourself. You get cheated on by someone more than fifteen years older than you, and immediately move in with someone even older? You imagine your sister tutting at you, ever the mother-figure.

“No doubt.” Ava rolls her eyes affectionately as you turn to her. You plant your hands on your hips and survey the bedroom around you. “Seriously, though, how would the…logistics of living with Joel work? Would you, like, have dinner together? Hang out? Be friends?”

You laugh, despite the anxiety settled in the pit of your stomach. “I don’t know, Av. I haven’t thought that far ahead. I’m kind of hung up on the whole ‘moving in with my ex-boyfriend’s brother’ part of it all.”

Now it’s her turn to plant her hands at her hips. “Are we still harboring some feelings about Tommy Miller, doll?” Her eyebrow quirks.

“Av! Come on. We spent two years together! I’m not just gonna get over it like that.” You snap your fingers before bending down to close the now-full box below you.

“You know what they say…the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else.” Ava waggles her eyebrows, and you laugh, full-bellied, at her levity. “You’re a fox, girl. Believe it or not.”

You roll your eyes, shoving the box out of the door of the bedroom, into the hallway.

“And he’ll be helping you move all this, right? To his house?”

“Nope!” you chirp brightly, “that would be you, babe!”

Kit, as you had anticipated, is not thrilled about the idea of you moving in with Joel. You call her from your office phone on Monday morning, gripping the receiver so hard your knuckles are white.

“Are you kidding? How are you even entertaining the idea?” Her voice is unflinching, and you tap the fingers of your free hand against your desktop, mildly annoyed.

“I’m 28, Kit.” You remind her, as you always do. “I’m the one who would deal with the fallout. Not you. Besides, it’s not like I have a ton of options.”

She scoffs, and you can imagine her rolling her eyes. “So you’ve told him yes, then?”

“No! That’s why I’m…taking a survey. Feeling it out.” You mumble, “You’re obviously not on board.”

Kit sighs, drawn out and heavy. “I know you don’t care what I think. I know you’re an adult. I just…worry about you. I’m so far away, and if anything happened…”

You cut her off. “I appreciate that. A lot. But at some point, I have to take care of myself.”

“I don’t think moving in with a 50 year old man qualifies as taking care of yourself.” She’s trying to be delicate, you can tell, but her remark is biting.

Twirling the phone cord around your fingers, you purse your lips.

“Why don’t you come stay with us for a bit? Maybe an extended vacation?” You can picture the sticky countertops, loud toys, an uncomfortable pullout couch. And Kit’s husband, awkward and gangly, never shutting up about ‘the economy’. Kit sounds somewhat hopeful, though, and it makes your heart quiver.

“Kit…I can’t leave my job. The one stable thing I have going for me.”

“They have finance jobs here.”

“I’m not letting Tommy run me out of Austin.” You echo Ava’s words, an indignant feeling rising in your chest. “I’ve got a whole career here. This is…a minor setback. If I do move in with Joel, it won’t be for forever.”

She laughs softly, but you clock the reluctance.

“I promise. I’m okay. I am okay. I will be okay.”

Kit pauses. “You’ll tell me if you’re not?”

“Yeah. Yes. Of course.”

“Well,” she clicks her tongue against her teeth, “best of luck, peach. It sounds like you have your mind made up.”

You shove the last box into the back of your Subaru, and dust your hands off on your leggings.

“Are you absolutely sure you’re okay with this, Joel?”

“Yes. Stop askin’ me.”

“If I’m too much, at all, I don’t have to stay.”

“Peach.” It’s a warning. “It’s Tommy that I need out of my space.”

Calling Joel back to accept his offer had been harder than every other aspect of moving out of Tommy’s apartment. Once you and Ava had packed all of your belongings, you stood back to observe — and it was like you had never lived there in the first place. The only thing that truly felt different about the space was that you knew you didn’t live there anymore. You feel a pang in your chest thinking about how Tommy would feel without you there — you didn’t know if him missing you or not missing you would be worse.

“Anything left?” Silas, Ava’s boyfriend-du-jour asks, from your elbow.

You shake your head, pulling down the hatch to close the back of the car. “Just the key. Which you don’t have to stick around for.” You give him a watery smile, feeling the weight of the day through every muscle in your body.

He nods. “Cool, cool. I’ll grab Ava. We can meet you over there?”

You hum in agreement before turning back to the building. Going up the steps to the second floor feels mechanical, a recreation of the thousands of times you’ve done it before, and your legs carry you automatically. The last time, now. Pulling in a large breath, you exhale through your nose, centering yourself while you click the door open.

Sunlight streams through the windows, bathing everything in the late afternoon light. You glaze your eyes over the room, not searching for anything forgotten, but committing it to memory one final time. You recognize that it feels less like a chapter closing and more like a freefall into something entirely unknown — into the mouth of something that lurks beneath the surface, teeth gnashing, ready to consume.

Leaving the key on the kitchen island feels like an offering to that dark entity, but you’re ready — willing — to tumble headfirst into it. So you do, with no grandeur, and no looking back, just a deep breath out and the millstone around your neck lifted.

Joel’s truck isn’t in the driveway when you arrive at his house. Ava is posted up against her car, Silas still in the driver’s seat, arm out the window at her waist. You wave as you pull up, masking the fear radiating through your extremities.

You throw the Subaru into park, and Ava jogs over to meet you. Her eyes are wide, but kind, as you close the door behind you.

“Okay?” She asks, her hand gentle on your arm.

You nod, swallowing hard. “Feels kinda surreal, Av. But I’m good.”

Brushing her off, you make your way to the front door. There’s an envelope clipped to the mailbox, ‘peach’ scribbled on the front of it, and your hands shake as you grasp it.

‘I wanted to give you some space while you got settled. Your key is in the envelope. Make yourself at home — I’ll check on you in the morning. —Joel’

Your heart flutters as you pull out a house key, with a keychain in the shape of a peach threaded through the top of it. Your breath catches in your chest as you run the metal through your fingers, tightening them around it. If Tommy’s key had been an anchor, Joel’s feels like a lifesaver.

Blinking back tears, hands still shaking, you slide the key into the lock and twist.

Eat your heart out, Tommy Miller.

#my therapist would be so proud of me for actually posting this #joel x reader #joel miller fanfic #joel miller #joel miller tlou #the last of us hbo #pedro pascal fanfic #tommy x reader #joel miller x f!reader

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thepixelelf · 3 months

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do u know nct?? if so, jung jaehyun and cupid au?!!! if not then au where wonwoo is a regular dude and also the subject of a Prophecy against his best wishes? idk i hope these are fun!!!

I genuinely don't think I could characterize jung jaehyun if I tried... but I can do reluctant Normal Guy wonwoo!! I hope you like it :]

[mr chosen one] It's been three weeks and six days since Wonwoo met the most annoying person in the world. Three weeks and six days since Wonwoo's been able to relax. Three weeks and six days of your constant pestering.

You call yourself the oracle. Whatever the hell that means.

All Wonwoo knows is that you showed up at his workplace out of nowhere as the "social media manager". Why would a company that sells Tupperware need a social media manager? Wonwoo still doesn't know. He's pretty sure you just wormed your way in to complete your life's mission-- annoying the shit out of him.

The first day, you'd leaned into his cubicle and whispered, "Hey. You're Jeon Wonwoo, right?"

And when he hesitantly nodded, wondering how the hell you already knew his name since he was one hundred percent sure he'd have nothing to do with the company's social media, you beamed.

Smiled so bright he thought he might go blind, and said, "I knew I'd find you."

Ever since that first day, you've been telling him over and over again how he's supposed to save the world.

Step number 1: find the king -- whoever that is -- in the heart of the fire.

You haven't told him who the hell "the king" is because apparently, you don't even know. And the whole "heart of the fire" thing is fuzzy to you as well, even though you're the one who said that out loud in the first place.

Step number 2: behead the king.

Yeah. Sure.

"And where am I supposed to get the sword for that?" he asked you nonchalantly a week into your nonsense, his eyes not leaving the spreadsheet he was working on. "Amazon?"

You just shrugged. "You can get anything on Amazon."

Step number 3: bear the crown under the weight of stars.

Whatever that means.

"You can't just say no," you asserted two weeks in. "This is your fate."

"I'm good, thanks." Wonwoo poured himself a mediocre black coffee in the break room, where he'd gone in the hopes of avoiding you. He didn't offer you any.

You crossed your arms. "The world is at stake."

"If the whole world is about to explode, I'm pretty sure you've got the wrong guy."

Almost four weeks of this weirdness, and maybe Wonwoo should've gone to HR by now, but it sounds a little trivial, even to him.

Hey, HR, my coworker keeps telling me I'm part of a world-saving prophecy and is convinced I need to go on a journey. I want either for them to be fired, or a couple weeks off so I can go save the world. Thanks.

Yeah, no. Instead, Wonwoo just braces himself for another day of your pestering.

...Which doesn't happen.

At the halfway point of the first peaceful lunch break Wonwoo's had in weeks, he realizes he hasn't even caught a glimpse of you all morning. He revels in that feeling for a bit, almost embarrassingly gleeful to sit in silence and eat his cup-a-noodles.

Then the afternoon goes by, and you've still yet to meet your annoyance quota for the day.

Wonwoo is happy. Yes. This is good news.

You've finally gotten over your delusions, and he won't have to deal with you anymore.

He's poking his head in Seungkwan's cubicle before he realizes he's doing it.

"Oh, them?" Seungkwan says when Wonwoo asks about you. "They left. They told big boss man we had no reason to employ a social media manager in the first place and got themselves transferred to a sister company."

Wonwoo blinks. "What?"

"Shouldn't you already know? You guys were hanging out like every day."

After that, Wonwoo walks back to his desk in silence. Awkward silence.

Why doesn't he like the silence?

When he sits down, there's a yellow sticky note on his keyboard, which he swears wasn't there when he left.

He wouldn't recognize your handwriting, but he knows it has to be yours.

Fine. I'll behead the king myself.

Wonwoo pinches the note between his fingers, and he remembers the conversation he had with you just the day before.

"It sounds dangerous," he said, focusing on the photocopier in front of him.

"Oh, it will be." You were leaned against the doorjamb. Always close by. "You'll be dodging death at every curve in the road."

"Delightful. I think I'll sit this one out."

The note gets crumpled in Wonwoo's fist. He grabs his coat and takes swift steps toward the elevators.

"Where are you going?" Seungkwan calls out when he sees Wonwoo practically run past his cubicle.

Wonwoo presses the down button before he rethinks and moves to the doors to the stairwell. He yells back, "I have no idea!"

He really doesn't.

But you said all that stuff about fate-- if it's really meant to be him that saves the world...

His footsteps, in whichever direction, will take him to you. Through fate or whatever.

At least, he really, really hopes so.

#seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen x reader #wonwoo scenarios #wonwoo imagines #wonwoo x reader #jeon wonwoo scenarios #jeon wonwoo x reader #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #svt scenarios #jeon wonwoo imagines #svt x reader #svt imagines

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louroth · 10 months

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Hello everyone :>

It's been a month! it's incredible how much my life has changed- while I'm still adjusting I'm just...still walking on clouds. it feels unreal. the patreon took off and I can almost make a living wage on it which is frankly fucking insane, and the discord is so vibrant it scared me for a moment (not anymore- shooting the shit with the people there is the favorite part of my day, even if I sometimes just leave a trail of emotes lskjdhajksdhkjasd.) I couldn't have asked for a better community. YES I am crying about it. Thank you, so, so much. I am cradling your face in my hands. crying.

But as always, enough of my bleeding heart. Let's get to it!

The first two weeks after posting the update, I took a sort of quasi vacation and only wrote a handful of story-words each day, and spent some time fooling around in the discord + brushed off my smut archive to refine for Patreon. There are already 4 stories up, and a new one coming tomorrow- though I haven't decided yet whether it will be possessive/jealous L sfw short or one very nasty short where you come across a particularly insistent species of vines while trekking the forest. hehe. we'll see. >:3

But, even though I had to rest not to combust after work, I am very pleased to say that the next chapter is coming along great, with the skeleton finished for its entirety, and about 45% and some change already written (it's very hard to gauge because I jump around a lot when I write.) This is the final chapter before the forest, filled with action and the heart wrenching drama of offering tenderness to a certain someone, and deciding for your hunter when enough is truly enough. I have teared up writing certain scenes and I genuinely cannot wait for you to experience this next part yourselves.

It is so funny reading things I wrote for this chapter six months ago, or longer, because I knew exactly what emotions I wanted to bake in and couldn't really nail it, but now it is coming together beautifully! Sure, it will still be wonky first draft writing, but the core is there and that is all that matters for now. I'm saying soon™ for the update for now, because I am allowing myself to adapt to writing full time- I didn't quit my job to become my own nightmare boss, and I truly want to enjoy this process. I think, in the long run, it will result in a better story. Patience is my mantra. All in due time- I cannot force quality creative work. But by everything wretched and sinful, I cannot wait to share this next part with you!!! I'm frothing at the mouth!!!

In other news, y'all. I need to get organized. I get heartburn thinking about all the different variations of files and notes and notebooks and scraps of paper and variables and branches of plot and just generally, the things to keep track of is getting to the point of a dragon hoard of scary 'oh no I forgot about that part'. I'm gritting my teeth through it until this chapter is out, but after it, I am going to spend some time to

1) get my shit together in gorgeous, beautiful spreadsheets

2) get serious about finding beta- and proofreaders. (me @ u: 🥺)

But that's it, my friends! I scrapped an entire progress report because I started sounded corporate and listing points which was just... sad. I really hope I evolve into writing these in a more fun way, which would make them more fun for you to read too! But for now, I think this will do. I hope you have a beautiful day/night, and if you would like to see more in depth dev-logs of my writing life, or random sneak peeks, I post those weekly on patreon!

Or join our discord, which. It's just the nicest place, I can't even come up with words that do it justice. It's my favorite daily newspaper.

Until next time! x

#OUROBOROS #ouroboros-if #interactive fiction #dev log #progress report #im scuttling off to finish character moodboards now like a gremlin #i am wholly soaked and immersed in the world of ouro and that just feels... so nice. I never want to leave #on asks: sorry they have taken low priority while I adapt to everything happening. I read every single one and smile and laugh and ponder #but when it comes to actually answering my words just stop working. its a soup up there #send thots and prayers 😔#(or come join the discord where I answer questions with gusto on the daily)

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olderthannetfic · 3 months

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I've done some reading challenges before and I think they can be fun if they have a purpose: for instance, something like the Read Harder challenge, ones that encourage you to read from different genres or read more diverse books, etc. I have a sort of evergreen challenge where I encourage myself to read more books written by authors from different countries, and keep a spreadsheet of which countries I've "read." (I also do this with other kinds of entertainment like movies.) But it's definitely true that some of them just seem to be for the gimmick and aesthetic, and for people who prize quantity over quality of reading in a sort of commodity-fetishism (as they're prizing books as markers of intelligence over the actual experience of learning and expanding your world via reading). Like when the challenges start to be things like "read a book with an orange cover" that's where I start to roll my eyes a bit, haha.

I will say that while I try not to be a snob about reading, it does drive me nuts when I've had people lord over how many more books they've read or how many more pages when they're reading beach reads and YA and other easily digestible stuff whereas I'm reading stuff that is heavier. One time when I was working some crappy minimum-wage job in college, I was reading this big omnibus of all Jane Austen's works (because I was taking a class on her where I was required to read those, not that I wouldn't read Austen otherwise lol) on my break, and one of the other employees asked me how many pages it was and I answered and he was like "pfft, that's nothing, I read all the Harry Potter books in a week and they're more than that!" And I wanted to be like.... yeah, me too, dipshit. I mean, I didn't literally read them in one week, but when each one came out, I devoured it within a day or two like a lot of people did, despite it being 800 pages. Because Rowling's prose is really easy to gobble up like that. Not that Austen is impenetrable or anything (I don't think she is and I think that's precisely why she remains so evergreen popular), but she does require more effort than *that*, particularly when you're reading her work for a literature class where you're expected to write a paper analyzing it, so you want to linger to make sure you really deeply understand it.

I've read academic monographs that were 150 pages long that took me weeks to get through, and I've read 800-page bestsellers that I ripped through in a few days. Pure page length does not determine how long it takes to actually read something. I mean.... in fandom we should all be aware of this, how many of us have devoured some 100k fic in a night or two? As someone who has written some of those academic monographs myself and therefore is familiar with how word count tends to relate to book page length, I can verify for you that that is the equivalent of devouring a novel in the same time frame. But it's a lot easier to do that when you're reading relatively invisible prose and are invested in your OTP getting together (or whatever) vs. if you're trying to digest someone's very dry and convoluted argument about Foucault.

I just read all of Scum Villain in about five minutes, yeah. And it was great, but nothing to brag about as an achievement.

I've got this friend who goes on about reading sooooo fast but then admits to often rereading to catch things that she missed the first time. It came up when I was explaining how seldom I reread or rewatch anything. I tend to remember it far, far too keenly after one time through, and it just doesn't hit the same a second time. I still read pretty fast, but not that fast.

I don't think it's snobby to roll your eyes at people who clearly don't grasp the difference between different difficulties of reading and—this is key—who are trying to wave their dick at you about how great they are. They started it!

The time I do roll my eyes is when people think you should read mega hard prose in order to learn, especially in order to learn vocabulary or get faster at reading. That's not what the science says. (Apparently, the fastest way to improve on that kind of thing is to read mass quantities of faintly hard-for-you stuff, not stuff that's hard hard.) But to learn how to decode confusing arguments? Yes, absolutely.

I do wish people would put a little more effort into unwinding their own tortured syntax on Foucault though.

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notfinancialadvice · 1 year

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It's been awhile, but I have a new thought for folks starting out investing

This blog is called "not financial advice" so this is not financial advice. Nothing on this blog is.

And.

I am working on a large-scale D&D-style banking system for a private client (my job is weird). This is putting me in touch with a lot of people in very expensive suits and it I keep pinging them:

"Let's say someone has $100 to start investing, what should they do. Like, literally $100. With $0.00 added after."

I've cobbled together some thoughts (not advice don't sue me) and cut out the bullshit and sales pitches.

Start a high-yield savings account in an FDIC insured bank. As of this writing (April 27, 2023, United States-based), it'll be somewhere between 3.5 - 4.25% APY (annual percent yield -- i.e. interest)

Go with a bank that is FDIC insured. Banks pay for this, you do not. Here are smart people talking about what FDIC is.

The percentage difference listed above is 0.75%. Moving money is a bitch, is it worth chasing 0.75%? That depends on your situation, time, etc. Here are smart people who built a calculator to help you figure it out if it's worth it to you.

Touch it as little as possible.

Start a spreadsheet that tracks your finances.

In the cell that lists the amount of this balance, give it a name. Something fun, something that speaks to you. I did this as an experiment + to participate, mine is "Slime Research Adventurer Destruction Fund".

Write a prospectus (fancy word for "this is what the goal for this cash is to do").

Slime Research Adventurer Destruction Fund prospectus: Follow the path of high-yield savings rates at {bank}. Review quarterly if other banks have a substantially better rate (+1.5%).

The entire point is to break the idea of "them not me" and "today vs. someday" and "I cannot begin to build wealth vs. someone else can."

A $100 savings INVESTMENT IN A SAVINGS ACCOUNT with a rate of 3.5-4.25% will give you interest of $3.50-4.25 at the end of the first year, then continue on growing onwards.

That is your return.

Is it as high as investing in the market? No.

Is it safer? Holy fuck yes.

When you invest in stocks, bonds, etc. you are looking for a return. This is your return.

This is not a grindset mindset work 24/7 chunk of advice. This is not a reality-disillusionment "I am struggling I need to work harder."

You need to be knowledgable about how things can work for you so you can leverage what you have, where you are, when you have it, as you can.

A high-yield savings account is not going to make you rich.

It probably won't make a difference in an emergency.

It will absolutely make a difference in non-emergency times, over a period of time.

Slime Research Adventurer Destruction Fund Destroying Adventurers.

That last point is where I'm coming to.

If you don't have enough cash to invest and/or you're not comfortable investing, that's fine.

Give your savings account a name that speaks to you. This is your investment. Your savings account = your investment account.

There is no moral or ethical difference between "I have cash shoved into a savings account" and "I have cash shoved into the stock market."

The only difference is potential risk, growth, and fees (never pay for a savings account), liquidity ("how quickly can I convert this thing into cash to buy an apple at the grocery store, pay a bill, etc.").

Make money less scary via weird names and fun graphics.