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sluttywonwoo · 2 months

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color me like you || l.jh

pairing: lee jihoon x f reader

summary: you put your heart into every piece of jewelry you make, so why does it only hurt when they're for him?

warnings: swearing, some jealousy, smidgen of religious imagery, smut (18+ ; mdni)

smut warnings: oral (f receiving), protected sex

word count: 5.3k

author’s note(s): for @sluttywoozi's birthday <33 ilyyy

this was the hardest fic i've ever written ;-; idk why but it just kept fighting me the whole time // also did not mean to be so heavy-handed with the rubies it just sort of happened

“What would you pick?”

Every single fucking time. It was like he didn’t know what he was doing by asking you that. And maybe he didn’t.

Lee Jihoon’s consultations were your least favorite part of (nearly) every month. And it wasn’t because he was a rude customer or a schmuck just looking to blow his money or anything like that- but because month after month he waltzed into your place of work and bought a custom piece for someone who wasn’t you even though he never failed to ask you that god damn question.

It wasn’t like it was uncommon for jewelers to get asked that. In fact, it was rather common. Men tended to view women as a monolith, accepting any opinion from whoever was nearest as a reflection of their partners’ solely based on the other party’s gender.

But with Jihoon it’s different. It was like Jihoon actually cared what you had to say about it, like it mattered what you thought of his decisions even though you were the one designing the piece and not receiving it.

It sends you into a mini spiral every time. Every time he walks through the door, eyes automatically searching for you. Every time he sits down in front of you and leans over your desk to get a closer look at your work and you catch a whiff of the expensive cologne dotted at his pulse points. Every time you have to gaze into his deep brown eyes and swallow the jealousy rising in your throat as you bare your soul to him laid out on a satin pillow for him to take and give to someone else.

You already know who it is once you see that the VIP Room is booked on your schedule. You groan internally, cursing the man as you run through all of your preparations. There isn’t much to do because almost everything is already ready for you but you try to stay busy anyway, finding yourself checking the clock on the wall over and over again until the bell above the door finally chimes to signal his arrival.

Your back is to the door and you don’t turn around right away even though you know he’s seen you. You can feel his gaze on you. It’s piercing yet magnetic in the way things like glass and icicles are- deceptively alluring, sharp enough to draw blood.

When you do finally turn to face him, you note that he’s flanked by a security guard, not unusual for him but unsettling to you nonetheless. You don’t know what he does for work. You’ve never asked. Better not to get attached is what you told yourself, not that you were having much luck with that.

Jihoon smiles politely at you and you return the nicety, gesturing to the door behind the counter for him to follow you.

The lights in the showroom are dim as always. The dark, velveted walls seem to be absorbing what little light the decorative lamps are effusing. The walls are lined with built-in display cases, illuminating their contents and nothing else.

In the middle of the room sits a desk, with a chair on either side. You take your place behind the desk and wait for Jihoon to sit before doing the same. He’s ditched his shadow so the two of you are alone, something you try not to think about as you organize your tools in front of you.

“How have you been?” Jihoon asks, his voice breaking the silence but doing little to ease the tension between you.

“I’ve been well,” you answer. It’s an honest answer, for the most part. “And yourself?”

“Busy,” he sighs, “but good.”

You fold your hands on the desktop in front of you, letting its cold surface ground you. You can already feel yourself starting to sweat even though the showroom’s the coldest place in the store. “So, what are we doing today?”

“A bracelet,” Jihoon says.

“For you or someone else?”

You never ask your clients who their orders are for. In your profession, you’ve learned that being too nosy, even in good conscience, can be dangerous. You’ll ask if the piece is for the client themselves, if it’s to celebrate a specific occasion, and what the person’s tastes are but little else. If they offer the information voluntarily, so be it.

“Someone else.”

You grit your teeth as you ask the next question. “Do you have their measurements?”

Jihoon doesn’t answer right away.

“Not exactly. It doesn’t need to be a perfect fit. They, uh, have about the same size wrist as me.”

“Then I’ll ask you to hold out your wrist for me…”

He extends his arm across the space between you, pale skin almost translucent under your Circline light.

“Which way,” he turns his hand for you, “palm up or down?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

He leaves his palm skyward like he’s waiting for you to take his hand but you wrap the tapeline around his wrist instead, bringing the magnifier closer to get an exact measurement. You make a mental note of the number and definitely not of the way his fingers are long and calloused and-

“That’s really pretty.”

Jihoon’s voice startles you out of your unprofessional thoughts, making you jump a little in your seat. He grins apologetically.

“Sorry, I just wanted to tell you how pretty I think your ring is.”

Your eyes flit down to the piece of jewelry on your finger, a thin gold band looped around a few times like a wiry piece of thread. In between the strands of gold are three gems, diamond, alexandrite, and tourmaline, set in what looks to be random spots. You’ve worn it every day since you finished it but no one had ever commented on it until now.

“Was it a gift?” Jihoon asks.

“No, I made it.”

“I should’ve known,” he sighs.

You want to ask him what he means by that but you know his answer will only make you more delusional.

You release the end of the measuring tape and roll it back up, replacing it in its spot in your drawer and pulling out a leather bound notebook instead. You flip to a blank page and jot down Jihoon’s measurements along with the few details he’s told you thus far about the piece he wants made.

“Do you have an idea of what you want your bracelet to look like?” you ask, swiftly changing the subject. “Or should I show you some of my previous designs?”

“I think I have an idea but I don’t know how to describe it.”

“How about I show you some pieces and you tell me if they’re similar to what you had in mind?”

“That sounds perfect.”

You stand from the desk and turn around to face the display cases behind you. There’s an assortment of original jewelry pieces made by you and your colleagues to choose from but you only select ones you’ve made, knowing Jihoon would instantly be able to tell the difference. It’s happened enough times before.

You walk him through each of your selections, making note of what he points out about each of them. From his musings, you gather that he wants an argentium silver chain— thick enough to be inlaid with stones but not too thick that it would become too heavy or gaudy.

Listening to him talk about the piece made you smile despite the envy twisted around your heart. He had started to pick up on the terminology after coming here for so many months and seemed so much more confident about his knowledge of it all. It was apparent in the way he held himself now during consultations.

You get all of the initial details about the body of the piece squared away before moving on to the finer ones. Categorizing the steps like this helps you stay organized.

“And do you know which stones you want embedded in the bracelet?” you ask.

Jihoon rubs his thumb across his lips in thought. “I thought I did, but after seeing that,” he pauses to point at a necklace you’d shown him, “I’m having second thoughts.” The necklace he’s referring to is set similarly to the style of the bracelet, only gold and lined with rubies.

“What was your first choice?”

“Amethyst. Since it’s a birthday gift, I thought I’d go with their birthstone, but now I’m torn. What would you pick?”

There it was, the dreaded question. It was like he’d been holding a knife to your throat this entire time and finally decided to draw blood. Still, you answer like you always do.

“I’m partial to amethyst,” you admit, “and there’s the added significance of it being their birthstone, but the rubies would make more of a statement. It really depends on what kind of person you’re buying for. Are they a sentimental person or a flashy person?”

“They’re both,” Jihoon groans, putting his head in his hands. Then, after a moment, he sits back up. “But I think they’d like the rubies more. I feel like those evoke a more dramatic aura, if that makes sense.”

“It does. Rubies are associated with power and passion.” They’re also associated with romance but you choose not to mention that part. “In some cultures, they were believed to protect the wearers as well.”

“That’s perfect then.”

You clasp your hands together and force a smile. “Great! Do you want them around the entire band of the bracelet? From clasp to clasp?”

“What would two-thirds look like?”

“Let me show you.”

You discuss the size, cut, and spacing of the stones before calculating a price and timeline for the piece. You give Jihoon the receipt that states how much he owes today and how much he’ll owe when he comes to pick it up, circling the pick up date with your pen.

He pays with his black card, the one you’ve become accustomed to swiping every time you see him. You expect him to leave promptly after the payment, that’s what usually happens, but he doesn’t. He lingers a little awkwardly as you put the jewelry back in their display cases, hesitating by the door like he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

“Jihoon?” you ask him eventually, “is everything okay?”

You refer to most of your clients by their surnames but Jihoon had asked you not to the very first time you met. “It makes me feel old,” he’d explained with a laugh.

Now, he laughs again. This time, it’s a nervous laugh, one that draws confusion and sets your own nerves on edge.

He swallows harshly. “I know this may be entirely inappropriate, but I promised myself I wouldn’t leave today without asking if you would go to dinner with me.”

“W-what?”

“Go to dinner with me?” he repeats, this time in the form of an actual question.

You blink. “For real?”

“Um, yes? Unless your answer is no, then no, not for real.”

You put both hands on your desk to brace yourself, unsure what to make of his request. “I’m sorry, I’m just a little confused. Why would you want to go to dinner with me?”

“Because I want to take you on a date.”

“A date?!”

Jihoon clears his throat a little bashfully. “Yes, I thought that was implied when I invited you to dinner.”

“Dinner could mean a lot of things! Maybe it was a business proposal.”

He chuckles. “I’m a music producer, I don’t know what kind of business I’d have with a jeweler.”

It doesn’t even dawn on you that you’ve finally found out what he does for work because you’re so overwhelmed by the fact that he’s asking you out to comprehend anything else. You can hardly comprehend this.

“You want to go on a date with me?”

“I- uh, I’ve been coming here for months just to see you. I mean, I was really getting gifts for people but they don’t give a fuck about what I buy them for their birthdays as long as it’s expensive... they don’t really care about the different gems and settings and shit.” You’re still processing his words when Jihoon lifts his head to peek at your reaction. “Are you... upset?”

“Upset? No, I’m relieved!”

“Wait, what? What do you mean?”

“This whole time I thought you were getting gifts for your partner, or partners, I thought you were taken.”

You watch the corners of Jihoon’s mouth quirk up into a smile as he realizes what you’re saying. “And that upset you?”

“Yes,” you mumble.

“You like me back?”

“Yes. It’s been terrible.”

“Pardon?” he chokes out.

“Imagine the roles were reversed,” you explain, “I’m coming to you every month, getting to know you better and you’re learning more and more about me, I’m flirting with you, you’re starting to feel like we’re getting closer-”

“Only for you to buy the jewelry for someone else,” he concludes for you with a grimace, “presumably a romantic partner. Yeah, okay I can see how that would be miserable.”

“But then, who have these even been for this whole time?!” you blurt out, finally breaking your number one rule.

“I’ll explain everything over dinner,” Jihoon promises.

“But when is dinner?”

“What time does your shift end?”

Jihoon does explain everything over dinner, as promised. He gave you some time after work to get ready for the date and then picked you up from your place in a town car. He’d told you before that he’s never felt the need to get a drivers license, that public transport and ride services were plenty to get him to where he needed to go, and that he seldom left the house anyway. You offered to drive to dinner since you did have both a car and a license but Jihoon astutely refused, saying that while he wasn’t very old fashioned, he was the one who asked you out and he’s always liked the idea of a more traditional first date.

Dinner is at a restaurant you’ve never even heard of but apparently has a Michelin star. The food and mocktails are delicious, but truthfully the last thing on your mind as you stare across the table at your date. He’s dressed in all black, like usual, but had chosen an outfit that was much more formal than what you were used to seeing him in: pressed slacks and a dress shirt that was buttoned just low enough to show off a hint of collarbone, cleavage, and a chain you recognize as one you’d crafted for him almost a year ago.

He almost always wore a hat when visiting your store but tonight he’s forgone the baseball cap and swept his long hair back in a half up, half down sort of manner. There’s product in it but a few wisps of his bangs have escaped the hold of the gel and hang in front of his eyes.

You briefly wonder if he’d let you style his hair, if he’d let you braid it back. He’d look so pretty with french braids-

At the end of the meal, after he’s paid, he asks the question. Not the question, the one you’re always dreading, but a new one that makes your heart beat just as fast.

“Are you doing anything after this?”

You take a sip of your drink, ignoring the watered down taste in order to keep the air of suspense. “That depends, what are you doing?”

Jihoon’s apartment is closer than yours. It’s in the middle of the city, nestled safely above the bustling crowds and chaos of the streets beneath it. You would call it a penthouse but it isn’t on the top floor of the building nor does it have a terrace- the point is, it’s bigger than the house you grew up in. You can tell just from standing in the doorway with all the lights off. The floor to ceiling windows lined all along the far wall give it away. They let in just enough light from the billboards and neon street signs below to cast shadows in the corners of the room that emphasize its depth.

There’s music playing softly throughout the apartment when you enter.

“I wasn’t expecting this to happen,” Jihoon insists as he scrambles to turn on some lamps. “I swear, I just always have music playing.”

“Sure,” you tease him, bending down to slip out of your heels.

You’re still a few inches taller than him without them on but he doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest. You certainly don’t. “I can turn it off if you’d prefer,” he offers.

“No, that’s okay. I like having it on when-” you stop yourself mid-sentence, cheeks blooming with heat. You had been about to say, ‘when I’m having sex,’ and Jihoon seems to fill in the blank himself from the way he smirks at you.

“Really? That’s good to know.”

You’re too flustered to think of a witty response so you just pucker your lips like you do when you don’t know what to say and hope he can’t tell how insane with lust his answer just made you.

The lapse in his gentlemanly manner is brief and before things can go too far he takes your coat and purse and leads you to the couch in the living room. You sit and watch as he crouches in front of the fireplace, rolling up his sleeves. It’s a gas fireplace so all he has to do is turn the dial to the desired strength, there’s no soot or ash or really anything that would make him dirty, but you appreciate the view of his arms nonetheless.

You know Jihoon is a big fitness buff. It’s one of the first things he ever told you, apologizing for how sweaty he was as he shook your hand and introduced himself. It’s been hard not to let that knowledge distract you whenever you see him now. You’ve caught yourself ogling his biceps and quads (and ass) an unhealthy amount of times in your consultations. You can let yourself get distracted tonight, though. Now that he’s not your client and you’re the girl he’s brought home. Now that he’s got his forearms out on display specifically for you to ogle.

He joins you on the couch a moment later, creating a respectful distance between you.

“Would you like anything to drink?” he asks suddenly. “I don’t have any alcohol in the house because I don’t really drink but I could make you something like we had at dinner. I also have Coke Zero and water and-”

You put your hand out to stop him, relieved to know he’s just as nervous as you are. “Water would be great, thanks.”

“Ice?”

“If you have it.”

“I wouldn’t offer it if I didn’t,” he points out.

“Right. That’s... right.”

He laughs affectionately and touches your knee as he goes to stand from the sofa. His hand is warmer than you expect, making you suck in a quick breath that makes you both freeze. Your eyes meet his before his gaze shifts to your lips.

“Do you... still want that water?”

Your mouth does feel dry but for an entirely different reason.

“Maybe later.”

He’s on top of you as soon as your back hits the mattress, strong thighs straddling your hips. His hair falls into his eyes and subsequently yours as he leans down and gently cups your face.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Yes, kiss me,” you gasp, pulling him into you before he does.

Jihoon groans the instant your lips touch his, grinding into you almost involuntarily. It isn’t long until you’re moaning too, practically writhing underneath him as he kisses you like he’s found God.

Everything about him is soft, except his hands. His voice, his tongue, his touch. His hands leave your cheeks and start to explore the rest of your body, grazing your chest and hips over your dress.

His fingers skim the hem of it and dip just below the seam, lifting the fabric from your thighs before letting it float back down.You don’t know if he’s teasing you on purpose but it’s driving you crazy. You’ve wanted him for so long now that his self control feels cruel, like he’s dangling himself just out of reach.

“I’m sorry, I got carried away,” he says, running a hand through his hair.

“I honestly wanted you to get more carried away,” you admit.

“Really?”

“I thought I was making it obvious.”

“I didn’t want to assume,” he mumbles through a smug grin, “and I didn’t know how far you wanted to go tonight.”

“I want to go as far as you want to go,” you assure him.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

You’re not typically one to sleep with someone on a first date, not for any religious, moral (or internally misogynistic) reason, you just don’t like being that vulnerable with someone you’ve just met. You’ve also found sex to be a lot more enjoyable with someone you feel connected to.

So even though it’s technically your first date with Jihoon, you’ve known him for what feels like half of an eternity and craved him for every single moment of it. You aren’t going to deny yourself what you’ve longed for for ages.

“In that case, can I eat you out?” he asks.

“Fuck yeah you can.”

“You have no idea how many times I’ve thought about this,” he murmurs as he positions himself between your legs and pushes your dress up to your hips.

“Really?” you sigh.

Jihoon kisses the inside of your thigh and then hums against it. “Mhm, every single time we were alone in that dark room I’d just think about crawling under that table and spreading your legs apart...”

“You should have.”

Jihoon scoffs. “You would have gotten fired.”

“Worth it.”

“But isn’t this much better?” he asks, pressing his tongue over your panties. “I can take my time with you and you can be as loud as you want...”

Jihoon repeats the motion with his tongue and you whimper as if to prove his point. He’s barely done anything and your panties are already soaked through. To be fair, you’ve been wet since dinner but that was his doing too. All he had to do was look pretty and you were melting for him.

“Want me to take these off?” he asks.

“God, please.”

“Here, lift up for me then, perfect. Now put your legs over my shoulders... good, just like that.”

He drowns himself in you, worshiping your cunt with his lips and his tongue and his entire being. He takes his time tasting all of you before moving on to what he knows you’re actually waiting for. You try to be patient, you know he’s been waiting for this just as long as you have, and it feels good... you just need more.

He does give you more, eventually. His tongue dips inside of you when you’re least expecting it and your thighs clamp around his head in surprise. He’s completely unfazed by this, and pries them apart with ease, holding your legs open as he continues to drink you in.

He switches between tongue fucking you and sucking on your clit a few times to figure out which you like more, settling on a pattern that has his name echoing off the walls of his bedroom.

You can barely hear the music playing over the obscene sounds he’s making as he eats you out but you find you actually prefer them anyway.

His mumbling is incoherent, muffled by you in every sense of the word. Still, you can tell he’s praising you, encouraging you to surrender to the pleasure.

It doesn’t take much convincing because he has you on the edge in record time. No man has ever gotten you so close so fast, you don’t even think you’ve made yourself cum this fast and you have that shit down to a science. It’s over for you as soon as he adds his fingers into the mix. You wanted to hold off a little longer just to prove a point but Jihoon has his own point to prove.

You don’t necessarily need penetration to get off but having something to cum around does make orgasms stronger for you. He must know this, or at least have an inkling, because he pushes two fingers inside of you right when your breath catches in your throat and your body locks up and your vision starts to blur…

“Baby- is it okay if I call you baby? Are you alright?”

It’s more than okay, you think to yourself and then you realize the disembodied voice that sounds a lot like Jihoon’s is actually expecting an answer.

You open your eyes the tiniest bit to see a very wet, very concerned-looking Jihoon hovering above you.

“You can call me whatever you want,” you tell him.

“That wasn’t really the important question out of the two,” he sighs. “Are you okay?”

“I’m great!”

He breathes a sigh of relief and collapses against your shoulder.

“What are you doing?” you laugh. “Aren’t we going to keep going?”

Jihoon lifts his head and gives you a look. “You just came so hard you blacked out, don’t you want to take a break?”

You shake your head. “No? Why would I?”

His lips part and he sputters, “because you just-”

“It’s sweet that you’re worried about me, but I promise I’m fine. I’ve never been better.”

“Never?”

“Never ever.”

“So… I can kiss you again?”

“As many times as you want.”

The power you’ve bestowed on him in that one sentence immediately goes to his head and he spends the next several minutes pressing kisses into your skin as he undresses both you and himself.

He kisses you in between every piece of clothing that comes off, every button of his shirt that he undoes, dragging out every moment until you’re both completely naked save for your ring and his necklace (and a condom).

He’s huge, unsurprisingly. What is surprising is how hard he is already. You knew he was turned on, you could feel him through his pants when you were making out and he was grinding into you, but you didn’t realize it was like this. You haven’t even touched him and his cock is rock hard and flushed at the tip. Did he get that worked up just from giving you head? Just when you thought he couldn’t get any hotter...

He pumps himself a few times before easing into you, bottom lip trapped between his teeth as he struggles to keep his composure. You aren’t faring any better, hands flying to his biceps when he bottoms out. The stretch is more intense than you’re expecting. It knocks the breath out of your lungs and the thoughts out of your head. All you can do is lay there on the satin sheets and feel as Jihoon makes himself a part of you.

“Are you okay?” you hear him ask distantly, voice trembling.

“I’m perfect,” you manage to respond.

“You are,” he agrees.

Your brows wrinkle in confusion as you try to blink him back into focus. Hm?”

He just smiles and pets your hair gently. “Don’t worry about it.”

“O-okay.”

“Am I good to start moving?”

“Yes, yes please fuck me.”

You wrap your legs around his waist and pull his body even closer just in case he needs further convincing, gasping in relief when he finally does start to move. It’s slow at first, experimental. You’re still sensitive from cumming so every sensation is heightened. Every stroke feels better than the last and you can only hope it feels just as good for Jihoon.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he groans, “how are you so fucking wet?”

“I really like you,” you laugh, “and you’re so good at, like, everything! It’s unfair and it’s, fuck, not my fault.”

“I really like you too,” he confesses, starting to fuck you harder. You expect him to elaborate but he doesn’t, not right away. Instead, he lets his body do the talking for him while he busies his mouth with yours. You can still taste yourself on his lips along with traces of your lipgloss and chapstick that he’d long since kissed off. It’s intoxicating. He’s intoxicating.

When he raises his head and puts a hand on the headboard to steady himself, the necklace you’d made him dangles right in front of your face, the cross pendant just inches from your nose. He grabs it with his free hand and puts the charm between his teeth so that it won’t hit you, smirking at the way your eyes roll back.

“You like that?”

“Fuck you.”

He laughs, then mumbles, “God, you’re so hot. I’m so fucking close already.”

You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him back down to you, down into another kiss. The chain still in his mouth presses into your lips, the cold metal a striking difference from the heat of your bodies.

“Please tell me you’re close too,” he whispers.

“So fucking close.”

You just need a little more to get you over that edge again. You release one of your arms from around his neck and snake it in between yourselves to rub your clit but Jihoon pushes it away and replaces it with his own. He repeats the same motions with his fingers that he’d done with his tongue, begging you to cum with him.

“Let go for me, baby,” he urges, “wanna cum together. Please let me feel you.”

You don’t black out this time but you do cry, fingernails digging into his back as you fall apart under him. Jihoon fucks you through it, helping you both ride it out. He’s shaking by the time the aftershocks pass and carefully lays himself on top of you like a blanket so that you can both catch your breath.

“S-sorry, I thought I’d last a lot longer,” he apologizes sheepishly. “Next time I will. Maybe. Your pussy is crazy though so you can’t hold me to that.”

“You’ve got such a way with words,” you scoff.

“What can I say, I’m a songwriter. It’s in my blood.”

You snort and push him off you, searching your phone. Your best friend had probably alerted you missing to the authorities by now after not hearing from you for however many hours it’d been since you last updated her. You find your phone under one of the pillows and see a barrage of texts from her and the groupchat just like you predicted. Snitch. You would have to grovel later, though, because Jihoon had gotten up to start the shower and returned to get you now that the water was warm.

He helps you step into the basin and shows you how to adjust the temperature in case it isn’t to your liking before asking if you want him to stay. You do, and you point out that he needs to shower too so it would be more efficient if you showered together anyway.

He joins you without a second’s hesitation, kissing your shoulder from behind as he begins to gently lather your body with soap. You return the favor after he’s done with you and soon enough he’s wrapping you and himself up in plush white towels he’d grabbed from the warmer next to the shower.

“Stay the night?” he asks as he dries you off.

You don’t have anything you need with you because you hadn’t planned on spending the night. It’s usually impossible to sleep without your overnight essentials but you’re honestly so exhausted you think you could fall asleep standing up.

“Don’t feel like you have to,” he adds when he senses your hesitation.

“No, I want to,” you assure him. “I just wasn’t expecting to have a sleepover so I don’t have any of my things.”

“I have an extra toothbrush,” he supplies helpfully, like that’s the only thing that could have been preventing you from making a decision.

You smile, trying not to laugh. “Thank you, that’d be great.”

He smiles back. “Anything for you.”

this was something kind of different but i hope you liked it bestie <3 can't wait to hear your thoughts i love youuuu

#color me like you #woozi smut #jihoon smut #lee jihoon smut #lee woozi smut #seventeen smut #svt smut #woozi x reader #seventeen x reader #woozi x female reader #svt x reader #seventeen x female reader

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hecateslore · 3 months

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💌

Officesupervisor!Simon, walk with me!

"Have these documents uploaded, I have an important meeting with my boss at 1200. I need them as soon as possible." Simon drops the stack of papers on your desk with a loud thwack, causing others to look over their cubicles. You roll your eyes as he turns to walk back into his office. Not understanding military time you just assume before your lunch.

Working as a VSO had it's perks, you got to sit in an office, and if all of your work was done before a certain time you'd just dick around the rest of the day! Which was great at least when you weren't working the front of the office- answering calls, helping people apply for loans or setting old people up with life insurance.

You type away on your computer, air-pod in one ear as you try and quickly finish the task before 12:25 so one, you can take your lunch and have a smoke break (if you don't smoke ignore this lmao), and two; get away from the man child who employs you.

Finishing up at 11:56, you gather the documents into a large file and send them to Simon's work email. Getting a very dry response, you exit out the tabs on your computer and get ready to take an early lunch, hurriedly trying to clock out before someone stops you for some help or if you could finish this set of paper work.

A ping comes from your desktop causing your eyeballs to roll back into your head, fully expecting one of your coworkers emailing you about some unimportant time sheet, or a email you sent three years ago that they told you to void that day, but now they need it or whatever.

[email protected]

Subject: Brief Meeting

Come to my office, I need to go over what you just sent me.

Talk soon,

S.R.

A groan leaves your mouth as you push your rolly chair from your desk and get up, a pit in your stomach. Usually when Simon calls someone to his office they're getting ready to say bye bye! Simon was known for his no muss no fuss attitude, he wasn't completely stern but he was assertive. Extremely passive aggressive but everyone decides to ignore it. He likes his work a certain way, he's a punctual man, so when people failed to meet his employment standards- there was no trouble in ridding them.

The military background is no help either, he's very observant to the point it's annoying. Constantly calling staff meetings because he doesn't like the way a certain someone files the paperwork, greets a customer, writes a letter, answers the phone. You don't really care for him, You just come in do your work, greet your peers then leave, sometimes you work over time if rent is near, but that's pretty much it. You make good money here, you can't afford to lose your job, not now- not ever. Reaching his office door, You knock before hearing his muffled" come in."

Entering his room, Simon sits behind his rather large desk, clicking away at something on the screen, hand under his chin as if he's really paying attention. "You can have a seat right there" he points to the chair with a folder that was thick with paper work, you lift the "folder" handing it to him then finally planting yourself in the chair before him.

"I assume you're confused as to why you're here." Simon pushes his monitor for a better view of you. "A little bit. " you chuckle nervously,

"The documents you sent me I looked over them, and your work.." Simon pauses to pull up the file you sent not even forty-five minutes ago. "You managed to mess up 6 of these documents, not even adding the time you uploaded them." he sighs, "I don't see how you've been here for what? two? three years?"

"2." you answer, "I was crunched with time." you add, "Not an excuse. I told you I needed these done before my meeting, not rushed, not half-assed. Completed." you sit in your chair, the pit moving up slightly in your body "If we mess up, we can get sued; and you will lose your job, you're aware of that?" A lump forms in your throat.

"This is a warning, but If this happens again, I'll have no trouble finding a replacement." You nod quickly, "It won't happen again."

"I'm sure." he looks down at wrist, "It's almost your lunch I'm assuming." you nod once more, "Is there anything else?" you ask hoping to God this was it, "Stop wearing your headphones when you work, it's against the rules and make sure to close my door when you leave."

You get up from your chair and zoom to the door, making sure to shut it behind you. Your coworkers looking at you from behind their screens, some sending you a sympathetic smile as you walk back to your cubicle. You clock out on your computer, grab your bag and head towards the front to leave. You walk to the grocery store in the strip mall where your job's located, buying a Turkey and Cheese Croissant also a Matcha Latte (this is my order heheheeeee). You sit outside the stores mini patio, going over the events that just happened. "I'm sure" kept ringing through your head, this was the first time you ever been talked to! screw him (you'd like to! 😏).

You'd always been on time, your customers never complained about your services, you fill out paperwork for christ's sake. And god forbid you need some kind of stimulation while you stare at blue light all day. I mean who can work without music?

You finish your lunch and decide to walk around the mart a little bit before you get back. Dreading the looks from everyone, having to see the emails, talk to the elderly about burial benefits. It's all so annoying.

You make it back to the office doing your regular routine for after lunch, making sure to put your other headphone on the other ear so your boss wouldn't notice. You check your emails once more

[email protected]

Subject: Spread sheets

Attachment 1

Attachment 2

I need these filled in by Thursday next week, the first attachment is the paper work they've dropped off.

Second attachment is the spread sheet, match the date to the paper work. DOUBLE CHECK YOUR WORK!!

Thanks in advance.

S.R.

"Thanks in advance." you mock his accent earning a very hard sid-eye from the lady next to you.

"what a dick" you mumble to yourself.

supervisor!simon

#OfficeRomance💌#Supervisor!simon #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #cod mw2 #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #ghost simon riley #ghost x reader #ghost x you #ghost x y/n #ghost cod #cod mw3 #task force 141

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dduane · 1 month

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Okay, it took a few tries to pull this off, but it was worth it

(Context: somebody asked me a question over the weekend that... really annoyed me. The less said about the details, the better.)

Such are the times we live in that it seems it's become wise for small publishers to put up an All Content Produced From Start To Finish By Living Human Beings notice. ...So here's ours. (eyeroll)

...It's exciting business, though, setting up a slide image so that it doesn't lose the most interesting bits depending on what device you're using to view it. At least the one screenshotted above works on desktop devices, now. But it's not quite right for tablets as yet, and I haven't yet checked it on the phone. (sigh) That can wait until after lunch.

(PS: Thanks to the kind person who askboxed me this AM to let me know about that AI art with the washing machines. Yeah, it's getting harder to tell. [mutter] But the heads-up was appreciated. Sorry I hit the wrong button too-early-in-the-morning and accidentally killed the response I was writing to you. Thereby also losing your username.) :/

...And now back, with some relief, to the exciting world of pre-print proofreading.

#ebooks #ebook publishing #AI #(insert sound of grinding teeth here)

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thewebcomicsreview · 9 months

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You know, it's always struck me as a little odd how little most webcomics actually attempt to adapt to their medium. There's basic strips, the old 2k era 4-square, the endless scroll of Webtoons, and a few weird experimental things like Homestuck, but most webcomics I run into tend to stubbornly stick to conventional portrait-oriented page layouts.

It's… readable, I guess, but that format doesn't seem to work very well for either desktop or mobile viewing. It wastes a lot of screen-space, and usually makes it impossible to actually view the full page without making the text too small to read.

Have you encountered any interesting webcomics that experiment with more landscape-oriented layouts? I'm kinda curious about how well that would work.

So, there's this dude Scott McCloud who wrote about comics in the 90s. His first book, Understanding Comics, is literally the book on comics, it's the one schools make kids read. This third book, Making Comics, is a pretty good practical advice guide I'd recommend, even if it's not his groundbreaking seminal work. In between those two books was one called Reinventing Comics

Reinventing Comics, written in 1993, was basically a book of predictions about how this newfangled Interweb was going to revolutionize the art of comics creation. Like a lot of early-90s stuff "Wow the internet!" stuff, it has a lot of inaccurate predictions, and thus isn't super well remembered (though, unlike a lot of early-90s predictions of the internet, it at least vaguely resembled reality).

Anyway, one of the big things from that book was the idea of the "infinite canvas".

Which was basically the idea that a comic didn't have to be constrained by the size of the screen because you could scroll it. And this was a big idea in early webcomics, you heard this phrase a lot. And you'd see infinite canvas techniques like "What if the characters are falling and the comic is really tall to sell that?"

(Read Narbonic)

Which is basically the one and only example that actually took off, because it turns out that scrolling horizontally sucks and no one really wants to do it except as a one-of gimmick (as Homestuck does). The much bigger impact of the internet was that a webcomic could be infinitely long and still reasonably expect it's readership to have read it all, but I think McCloud missed that one. So while there were a bunch of "landscape" webcomics where you scrolled horizontally, none of them took off, and even the ones that were well received are long gone.

Adams himself would make Zot!, which is a vertical scroll comic that had a bit of a gimmick with parallel story beats being literally parallel. I think he even did some branching paths, and experimented with comics that you could read in different directions or that looped back on themselves.

But then Homestuck just did that better because, as I mentioned, infinite depth ended up being a lot more impactful than infinite width. It turns out that making a comic really wide calls a lot of attention to itself and makes the comic annoying to read. And it doesn't mean you can't do it (Homestuck did it!), but it does mean it can't be the gimmick you hang your comic up on unless you've got a really good reason for doing it.

#Scott McCloud #Homestuck #“Webcomic creators should be more creative”#“What if we made the comic WIDE?”#“Wide is not a creative color”

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kaciidubs · 9 months

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Camboy!SKZ Headcanons | Maknae Line

❣ Summary: What it would be like if the SKZ boys were camboys? An idea brought on by @onmykneesforchanlix ❣ ❣ Warnings: Camboy AU, kink discussion [mommy kink, pet play, orgasm denial, begging, overstimulation, deception], sex toys ❣ ❣ Additional Tags: Slight crack energy for Jisung, Felix is hinted at having an interest in a certain camboy. ❣ Hyung Line ❣ Stray Kids Masterlist ❣ General Masterlist ❣

Jisung

The people’s princess, quokkasungie, honestly started his account on a drunken dare. Yeah, really.

His very, very, first video on his account - that’s still there to this day - is a video from that same fateful night, a poorly recorded, slightly out of focus video of him jacking off with unabashed moans and desperate whimpers for a release.

Very unceremonious and unplanned, but for some reason it got views and he liked the attention - even if hearing himself as desperate as he was still makes him turn redder than a tomato.

As an upgrade to his procedure/setup, he invested in a webcam to add to his desktop computer, which provided his viewers a better view to his bedroom and bed - his personal stage.

His content is very much viewer interactive, his pleasure hinging on the messages sent in from the anonymous users as they guide him through the session; sometimes allowing him a straight through orgasm, while other times forcing him through orgasm denial after orgasm denial, getting drunk off of the needy whimpers and whines from his putty lips.

He owns a few toys, between 3 or 6, and the ones that make the most appearances in his lives are his pretty pink [viewer gifted] dildo, and matching cockring.

Is friends with leeknowswho and had one stream where he [Minho] was the one guiding him through his live session - it was one of Jisungs highest viewed lives to date and people still beg him to have another session with the mystery man.

Felix

Introducing the content king who has everyone falling to their knees, the freckled fairy sunshinebokkie!

He started camboying because, well, he wanted to! There’s no grand story about his motivations for it, other than it was something he wanted to try for the sake of trying it, much like most of his other hobbies. At some point this side hustle sort of became more of his main job, while his main job became a part time gig.

Since he had previous experience in streaming/social media, doing this was basically a walk in the park, just with the added bonus of showing off his dick and hole to thousands of horny beggars. It’s empowering in its own special way.

His streams are diverse in content, ranging from streams simply for him to get off, streams where he showcases the “sponsor of the month” with the toys they’ve sent for him to try out, to themed scenarios his viewers voted for him to act out, and even streams where the viewers control how and when he could pleasure himself.

Speaking of toys, he has a collection that would make a pornstar blush; normal dildos, dragon dildos, silicon grinders, vibrators, buttplugs, nipple clamps, cockrings [vibrating and metal], a cock cage - he even has a goal for a fuck machine stream [per the request of his viewers].

His viewers always rave about wanting him to collaborate with other streamers and he always replies with the same flustered laugh and sparkling eyes, “I don’t even think it works like that, guys! You just want me to get fucked by someone, don’t you?”

They do, and they know he wants to, too - especially when he went on a horny ramble about a certain body building cammer before fucking himself into multiple orgasms and overstimulation.

But he can’t fold that easily - not yet at least.

Seungmin

Onto our textbook camboy, the guy who started camboying with the intent of making money off of his dick, minmong00.

Working a dead-end job making coffee from morning to afternoon wasn’t his ideal way of living, especially when he had bills to pay and hobbies to feed. He also knew that he was a generally attractive guy, at least, that’s what he garners from the longing stares he catches from time to time - so, why not use it to his advantage?

Starting an account wasn’t hard, nor was trying to decide what he wanted to market his content as - the hardest part was, surprisingly, trying to stick to his morals in not selling himself off too much to pander to the horny viewers.

Now, hear me out.

Camming automatically comes with a sense of selling some part of yourself for the pleasure of other people - he knew that, he understood that - but the way people genuinely begged him to make certain types of content with more than generous tips had him heavily reconsidering his limits.

Textbook camboy meant textbook camboy; he had the webcam setup, he only showed off part of his bedroom [only enough to get him fully in the webcam’s view without having to shift much], and he was on for the goal of reading a few messages, pandering to a few donations, busting a nut, and signing off.

Some days he didn’t even read comments, acting as if he weren’t even live as he got himself off, though he’d always make eye contact with the camera and moan about how good it felt.

Other times he would concede to viewer requests; he bought a vibrator, a small thing that looked like bunny ears [aptly called a rabbit, he’d discovered], he did boyfriend service [only once the donation goal was reached], he even ventured into mommy kink territory.

The thing requested of him the most - much to his chagrin - is pet play content, specifically him in a dog getup with puppy ears and a collar, and as much as he tried to portray aloofness to the suggestions, he can’t help the tingle of curiosity at the thought of leather wrapped around his neck.

Expanding his content couldn’t be too bad, right?

Jeongin

Last, but definitely not least, we have our dearest Jeongin, also known as yjinout.

His journey as a camboy sort of wrote itself, thanks to his sharp features yet youthful appearance he was often regarded as a newbie to the sex world; looking to use camming as a way to explore himself under the eager eye of many.

He’s diverse with his content to an extent, mostly trying out things he plans himself but he does take into account some recommendations from the chat when he feels like spicing things up.

Now… if innocence were a genre, he’d be the king of it - from the way he timidly smiles at the webcam, eyes turning into crescents, to the light touches he gives his leaking cock, almost as if he’s not sure when to start or where.

Everything he does is with an air of unfamiliarity and the curiosity to look for more, and the reaction of when it turns out to be something he likes? Oh, the tips start rolling in.

However, Jeongin isn’t as innocent as his viewers like to view him as - far from it, actually. It’s deception, a game; letting them get off on the idea that he hasn’t had his name screamed to the heavens or even been the reason behind an orgasm that leaves you twitching for more.

He knows some viewers catch on, he can see their comments get drowned out by the influx of praise and “advice” on how to make himself feel good, and it only makes him harder, moan louder as he fucks the brand new fleshlight gifted to him.

Most of his toys are ones gifted from his account’s wishlist, and so far he’s the proud owner of nipple clamps, a fleshlight, and a cockring - it’s not much, but for a newbie such as himself, it’s a good place to start, yeah?

❣ I shit you not, this took me so long to do because I couldn't for the LIFE OF ME decide what trope fit each guy, but I think it turned out pretty well, if I do say so myself. ❣ ❣ Any type of feedback is appreciated! Whether it be a simple like, reblog, or keyboard smash and the most essay-like comment, feel free to share your thoughts. ❣

#kacii's masterlist #skz smut #stray kids smut #skz fanfic #camboy!au #stray kids camboy au #skz camboy au #Camboy! Jisung #Camboy! Felix #Camboy! Seungmin #Camboy! Jeongin #han jisung smut #felix smut #seungmin smut #jeongin smut

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kirathehyrulian · 12 days

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ForWonderfulWetSammy: 🍊Tangerine Dreams🍊

| Ao3 Collection | Ao3 Art Post | (Please do not edit/alter. Feel free to reblog, but please do not repost. At the very least, please give me credit.)

for @wetsammywinchester Enjoy, if you can!♥♥♥

(For better viewing on desktop, click the image, then right click the enlarged image, and then click “open image in new tab”.)

For more stuff from me please check out my “myart” tag here on Tumblr or my AO3.

👇( wip screenshots and notes below the cut) 👇

Art Notes: (more detailed notes will be on the AO3 post)

Around March 12th, @quickreaver made a collection for Paula over on AO3 and asked me if I'd like to participate and make some new works dedicated to her, preferably before March 25th. I told QR I'd try, but I was still in the process of finishing my last project the mer!Jared au.

But after I finished up with that, I looked at the list of likes and dislikes given to me and I went for a mob au set vaugely in the 1920's, because when I think mob I think of the roaring 20's.

I started this project March 14 and finished April 3rd. So I worked on this off and on for 21 days. Nine days over the due date, sadly. But, I wanted to finish what I started, so I continued. It's a collection that's supposed to stay open and added to indefinitely anyways.

The title of the work is taken from the lyrics in "Salvatore" by Lana Del Rey.

Dean does have freckles they're just very faint.👍

WIP Screenshots:

#forwonderfulwetsammy #wincest #gencest #or #weirdcest #you decide #mafia au #myart

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angelsdean · 1 year

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okay so this is not to be petty or anything because these are things I'm genuinely interested in tracking throughout my rewatch so i've been thinking about this ask i got earlier today which said that one of the reasons people think early seasons Dean is misogynistic is because "tried to fuck anyone with boobs and the minute a woman did something he didn’t like he turned around and called them a bitch."

Now, like I said in that ask, I don't remember many moments of him ever aggressively trying to sleep with anyone. He flirts casually, he openly checks out women, sure. Often in an over the top, exaggerated way, which as I've also said, in my personal reading and interpretation I view a lot of that as him overcompensating. But anyways, I was hung up on the "he turned around and called them a bitch" part of the ask.

@swordofsun reblogged the ask and mentioned that in their rewatch so far (up to 1x13) the only time Dean's used the word "bitch" toward a woman is in the pilot toward Constance, the woman in white. I decided to look further, even though I'm only on 1x08 in my rewatch right now. Using this tool which searches all the episode transcripts for specific keywords I looked up the word "bitch." This is just every time the word is used, including in descriptions within the transcript. So descriptions of Sam's "bitchface" are also included in these results lol.

Here are the results of the search:

(i suggest clicking the image or opening it in a new tap if you're on desktop to see better)

So, I'm only focusing on s1 right now but I used those episode numbers to look up each individual transcript and do a ctrl-F search of "bitch." Then I made a spreadsheet lol.

The first column lists the episode number. The next column asks: Does Dean say "bitch" other than “Jerk / Bitch” or “son of a bitch.” Following that is a column for examples if yes. And then the final column asks: Is this example toward a woman? Here are the results for s1:

(again open to see better)

Dean says the word "bitch" in contexts other than "Jerk/Bitch" or "son of a bitch" a total of six times out of fifteen episodes in which the word "bitch" shows up in the transcripts. Of those six times, only 3 times is the word directed toward a woman. Once toward Constance, the woman in white. And twice toward Meg. Not once does he use the word toward a woman he's flirting with. Granted, this is only s1 and I'm not saying he never calls a woman a bitch but it's interesting that many have a perception of early seasons Dean being a "ladies man" that is derogatory towards women. But as these numbers show, at least in s1 with the instance of the word "bitch", he does not direct that word toward anyone he's flirting with or interested in, only toward the "villain" or "monster of the week."

TLDR: Despite claims that Dean calls women "bitches" when they reject his advances, at least looking at season 1, Dean only uses the word "bitch" outside of "Jerk/Bitch" or "son of a bitch" contexts only six times, and of those six times only 3 of them are directed toward women, once toward Constance the woman in white, and twice toward Meg.

Anyways! I'm going to continue keeping track of this and digging through the transcripts because it's interesting to me. And I'll keep looking out for instances of Dean actually flirting with people and if he's actually trying to sleep with anyone or just casually flirting as I continue my actual rewatch.

#sorry i am treating this rewatch like a university course as i've said dhfdjk #long post #vics spn rewatch #dean studies #vic.txt #spn data #mymeta

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fictionalblondemalelover · 1 month

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▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬101: 𝙃𝙊𝙒 𝙏𝙊 𝙈𝘼𝙆𝙀 𝘼 𝘾𝙊𝙇𝘿 𝙃𝙀𝘼𝙍𝙏 𝘽𝙀𝘼𝙏▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ PART I *fixed a lot of errors here.*

✽.｡.:*・ﾟ ✽.｡.:*・ﾟ ✽.｡.:*・ﾟ ✽.｡.:*・ﾟ ✽.｡.:*✽.｡.:*・ﾟ ✽.｡.:*・ﾟ

gojo x reader (she has trouble how to express emotions and feelings so if you erm, don't prefer any readers that has a characteristic like this. pls scroll!!! Our very elder sister is the baddest of the baddest, none other than Yuki Tsukumo!!! But, you have another older sister and you're the youngest) waarrninnggg! possibly has a smut in the second part or idk third part, goofy moments, wholesome shits, and maybe angst if you squint, all characters are aged up to 18. I'm also convinced that tumblr is just made for desktop users LMFAOO

2006, Tokyo Jujutsu High

You weren't really interested in sorcery and had grown to do things that weren't fully related to it, unlike your older sister who is already experienced. Your parents had only forced you to enroll in her school; after all, you were born into a powerful family filled with sorcerers. You have the potential to become one, but it sounds incredibly boring and doesn't seem to suit your tastes. Korimu, your older sister, is a talented student at Jujutsu High. She has great performance, which means you don't have much time to bond. Lately, there has been a lot of awkward tension between the two of you. "Stop complaining, you'll do fine," your sister Korimu says, continuing to comb your hair regardless of your grumbling and whispering. You fold your arms and avoid eye contact with her in the reflection of the mirror. "I am not," you retort back, trying anything just to compose yourself. "Is that so? Well, by the look on your face, you seem like you're casting a spell under your breath." Your eyes roll in irritation, building up and growing heavy on your nerves. "Whatever, Mom and Dad just forced me to enroll in your school because you're a fourth-year in a school where sorcerers learn." "Perhaps, but you have every opportunity and the potential to become a sorcerer. You know, saving people and fighting curses? Isn't it at least fulfilling to achieve something for the people around you?" "To you, but it's not my destiny or right to become one." Korimu sighs at your comment, knowing how stubborn you are when discussing sorcery. "Y/n, you inherited the power that you rightfully deserve from our clan, where you were blessed as soon as you were born. It's not better or worse than mine, so please, take this opportunity. You can't just wait for someone to tell you this." You were slightly convinced by the sound of desperation in your older sister's tone. "Fine, but that doesn't mean that I'm fully convinced yet." You brush her hands off and begin to stand up from your seat. You swear that when you ever-so-slightly lay a glance on her, there is a genuine and small smile worn across her lips as soon as she hears your response. You have to admit, though, you're not mentally or physically prepared to become a sorcerer. You don't learn martial arts like your sister, your body is stiff, and you punch like a stick. In a way, you sort of wish it was your sister who inherited your power instead of you.

"Ah, wipe that gloomy expression off your face, Y/n. It's only your first day at your sister's school! I'm sure you'll get used to it, sweetheart," you deadpan while your mother smother you with affection. However, despite your mother's reassuring words, you don't actually feel reassured at all. Your mother drops the two of you off at school before heading to work. Your parents don't spend much time bonding, except on weekends. I guess it's not so bad. "See you later, mom." Korimu waves goodbye, giving her one last smile and a kiss on the cheek before she reverses the car. "No kisses for mom?" Korimu tilts her head, but you don't respond.

FIRST POINT OF VIEW

"Korimu, what are you planning to do this time?" I raise an eyebrow, suspecting her movements, as she made her way outside the walls of Jujutsu High, jumping off the tall railing with ease and I couldn't see whether she jumped safely down the ground. My heart almost dropped and I immediately rushed to the railings, to check Korimu "Y/n! jump down here! I'll catch you! Promise!" Korimu called out and my heart was beating like crazy. My eyes open wide and shake my head in response. "Just do it!" I could hear her ordering again but I don't know for whatever reason, I was under the impression that she wouldn't catch me but yet again there's another good reason why she can catch me. She's an experienced sorcerer. "Korimu! You're too damn fast!" "Well, that's a sorcerer thing, you know!" Damn, we've been running for what feels like forever... I'm already exhausted... Where is this woman even taking me? We're not even inside the school building. "Where the hell are you taking me, woman?" This lady has an insane amount of stamina... In other words, Korimu looks around the area while effortlessly standing on another broken railing. "Well, I have an urgent mission to take care of for the second-years as well as my classmates." "And your brilliant idea was to bring me here?" "Yup." Her response is both annoying and tiring, and I have to suffer hearing every word come out of her mouth every time now. "Oh, I can already hear the mansion from very far away." "What- Nevermind, I'm not even going to question where you get these senses from..."

A few long seconds later,

We finally arrive and I can barely keep up with Korimu's pace... She's just like Yuki, both of them are beasts. "Oh, Y/n... Stop being dramatic and toughen up! That was the fastest lap I've ever done. I had to carry your scrawny little ass on the way here!" I can hear her laughing heartily while I was still thrown onto her shoulder, upset. As we get closer, it's quite a scene of destruction, but there is an unexpected encounter, I suppose. "Utahime, you cryin'?" the guy with sunglasses taunts, tilting his head, a devious grin plastered to that face. "NO, I'M NOT! AND BE MORE POLITE!" The girl, presumably Utahime, barking at him like how a wild dog would do to a stray cat. "If I was crying, would you console me? I'd definitely like that." for some reason, I have no idea what to react after that attractive girl intervened. "Nah, you wouldn't cry Mei. You're strong." As for Utahime... She grows more tense and aggresive while quite literally getting hovered by a bricked and concrete wall. While she was about to say something, Korimu makes an entrance and I was still obviously carried onto her shoulder. And some giant curse was about to attack Utahime but quickly got swallowed up by another curse. "Don't swallow it, I'll absorb it later." "Heya, Utahime! How are my fellow second-years doing? Wow, you guys really dropped the ball on taking care of Utahime and Mei Mei! You guys absolutely suck!" Korimu gives the second-years a thumbs up, which actually managed to compose Utahime slightly after her attention shifts to the two of us as soon she noticed her attention. "TSUKUMO! THANK GOODNESS YOU'RE HERE!" Utahime exclaims in relief while she runs her her way here, embracing Korimu tightly. I flinch slightly at her loud voice as I awkwardly shuffle to Korimu's shoulder. "Korimu, put me down, this is riduculous." "Tsukumo-senpaiii." Both the girl with the short haircut and the guy with sunglasses say in unison, and Korimu smiles back at them. "You're always late for an upperclassman, and you're also terrible at taking care of us." their attention then shift to me, analyzing me for a short moment before speaking

"Tsukumo-senpai, you didn't kidnap someone, did you? I know you have a habit of making us second-years as your child but I didn't expect you to take that level, way to go chief." "Do you guys seriously think of me that way as your senior...? After 1 year of teaching you guys with the tricks I have up on my sleeve, this is what I earn?" Korimu wipes an imaginary tear from her cheek, swaying her hair dramatically. "Pfft, well if you're referring to drugs, yeah." "Satoru, It's not nice to speak to your elders like that." "Don't spread your non-sense to my sibling, Gojo, and I'm not that damn old Geto. Anyway...This is my little sister, Y/n. She'll be your new classmate," she finally sets me back down to the ground and introduces me to anyone. "And these three are your classmates. Shoko Ieri, Suguru Geto and Satoru Gojo."

"It's nice to meet you." Shoko offered a small nod and a smile as well. Though, I have no clue what to reply back than to just to repeat what she did without the smile stuff. Oh man... This is awkward, I'm technically classmates with Geto. He used to be my former partner after the we got arranged not unil it got cancelled, a year ago. "Why It's nice seeing you again, It's been quite a while since we've seen each other in face to face, is it not, Y/n? I see that you're still the same as always." there he goes, he brought up the fact we know each other but thank goodness it wasn't that we used to have an arranged marriage. Ah darn. "Indeed, I could say the same to you." I silently acknowledged, he smiled sincerely to me but I was unsure If I were the need to smile back at him as well. I recall during our time together, I showed bits and bits of emotions to him. "My, my. You have history with Tsukumo-senpai's sister, Suguru? You sneak." I cleared my throat as soon Gojo began to intervene the conversation, a soft laugh past Korimu's lips, but Utahime was still here, silently shooting daggers to her glare towards to Gojo alone. "Korimu! You better not be off slacking with these imbeciles that lack respect, I'm telling you! You're growing in your ego as their upperclassmen! Basically causing trouble and treating them like your own!" Utahime scolds, while shaking Korimu's arms but she just had a stupid grin on her face and I began to roll my eyes, folding my arms as I witness the chaos unfold. "Bwahaa... Whatever do you mean! I'm a good senior at em, teaching the young ones what I have up in my sleeves!" "THE FOUR OF YOU CASUALLY BLOWN UP THE CHEMISTRY ROOM YESTERDAY! WITH THE SECOND-YEARS!"

"And it was damn flashy when we did it! Now live a litte, Utahime! There's times in short life where you have to entertain your self!" Korimu pats her arm which seems more like a slap in my view, she turns her attention to me, she hooked her arms with mine. "Anyways you three, where's the curtain?" Korimu turns her attention to the second-years within her arms linked with mine and they went absolute pale at the question. "Hm, right. I was about to ask that too." Mei states, her arms folded as well with pretty half lidded eyes.

A very very few minutes later

"You think they'll be fine?" "Yeaahh... No, 50/50 chance. Yaga-sensei is prettyyy strict, but ya know, they'll live." Korimu smiles, and her posture always seems relaxed and comfortable inside Jujutsu High, her classmates, and my classmates whereas she treats them like her own children and causes trouble around with them. She's a lot livelier in here than at home. We waited outside the room for Yaga to finish to scold them three... Or at least one of them. "Right..." I mumbled while staring down at the ground, silently fidgeting with my hands that were placed on my sides. I wasn't sure whether the question I decided should be at the right time here now, though. I still feel Incredibly hesitant. Korimu eyes me and a chuckle escapes her lips. "What is it, you look like you're about to confess your love to me." she jokingly said so and I barfed, causing her to giggle at my reaction. "You're gonna make me vomit," "Just say it, what's stopping you? We have the time to talk about it before Yaga's scolding stops." I stayed silent for a short moment before finally speaking. "Am I really destined to be here?" As soon that question lingered the hallways of us two, there was a moment of silence until Yaga's voice intervened before Korimu was about to respond. "You may now enter." "I'll talk to you later, kay?" I wonder If what currently was revolving around her mind to answer my question was 'You don't really see any purpose as becoming one such as yourself, do you?' It was not an answer but rather another question that I imagined her hitting me back with it. I enter the room while Korimu peeks onto the doorframe, making my classmates perch up at her appearance, and a trail of happy 'Tsukumo-senpaiii!' leaves their mouths. "Heya teach," she greeted, with a smile, her hand guided behind my back. "Tsukumo, this must be your sister that you informed about transferring here, correct?" "Yup, that's her."

What the fuck, man why is there just a little amount of students here, this is kind of abnormal. Is that too extreme? Sorta. "C'mon now Y/n, introduce yourself! Don't stand there so lamely!" Korimu whispered-yell at me and I glare at her over my shoulder, she keeps nudging on me, gesturing me to do so.

#jjk x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen #satoru x reader #gojo x reader

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hillbillyoracle · 14 days

Text

The Algorithm is AI Art

Last year, I used DALL-E to create a series of images for a digital tarot card deck I was making for my personal use. When I shared some of those images here on my blog, I got a massive amount of push back and even threats in my inbox. I'm still putting my thoughts together on that experience but it did make me realize that most people don't seem to realize they're supporting the AI art they hate so much - to the tune of millions and even billions of dollars per year depending on the platform - almost everyday through the algorithms they use.

So if you genuinely hate AI art, I'm here to tell you that you've got to do what you can to get rid of and not use the algorithms in your life. That kind of support is more materially complicit with AI's intrusion on art than someone making a few images for themself ever could be.

Yes It's Possible

For many platforms, especially when they're accessed on desktop, it is possible to greatly reduce your contact with the algorithm. I use browser extensions to cut out the AI curated feeds on YouTube, Facebook, and Reddit. I mostly use Instagram on desktop to answer messages.

I generally do not use Instagram, Facebook, and other apps that do not allow users to control their feed on mobile. I know Instagram is mobile only - when I use it on mobile, I download it, upload what I want, then delete the app again.

I am considering cutting these out entirely again once this phase of my experiment for a zine I'm writing is over because honestly, they're not worth it, but that's a different post...

I also really recommend either making a separate email account or getting ruthlessly organized in your current one, so that you can sign up for artist's newsletters and other forms of human centered curation. RSS readers like Feedly can also be a good alternative.

The point here isn't perfection - the point is doing what you can. Not because it will change companies - but because it's better for you and the artists you care about.

Why?

Algorithms in these spaces determine who's work gets shown and more importantly - who gets paid enough to continue making their art.

AI has consistently been shown to reproduce and even exaggerate biases already present in society. This video by Ann Reardon of How to Cook That talks about YouTube's lack of transparency about the potential for a sexist bias in YouTube's algorithm and shows that in the top views at least, there's a clear slant toward male creators. The only woman in the top 10 does not show her face in her videos - unlike most of the men in the top 10. This discrepancy is even larger the further down the list you go.

Who gets shown is who gets paid enough to keep making their content/art. Less pay means people can afford to put out less content/art and can't scale - meaning less diversity in content/art.

What art gets shown influences what inspires new art and content to be made. You are seeing art directly shaped by AI everyday - and more than that - by continuing to click on what it serves up to you, you support it.

This AI influence on real world art has become so normalized that people consider it as natural a force of nature as wind. It's not. This was designed - and it can be redesigned.

I want to be careful not to overstate the influence of a click either - your clicking on something you choose is not a form of activism. Your clicks cannot retrain the algorithm at scale. A lot of people have the misconception that you can train "your" algorithm but what the algorithm on your feeds is doing is actually comparing your clicks to it's database of similar user profiles and their behaviors to decide what to suggest to you. Your clicks don't retrain the AI as a whole, they just match you with a different user type.

The real reason I think those concerned about AI in art need to find ways to take control of their feeds is because it ensures you're able to support a diverse array of creators through your views and it ensures that what you're taking your inspiration from isn't what the AI decides is worthy of attention.

I realize there are those who are reading this who either might not have been old enough to remember or even weren't born when YouTube basically took your Subscriptions off the front page. It used to be they would pop up at the top of the front page. Then it got knocked down on the front page. When it got shoved into it's own sidebar link and then that link progressively minimized through redesigns - there was actually an outcry about it.

People warned that this would lead to a watering down effect, where smaller channels didn't get the chance to grow like already established ones would. Creators of marginalized identities saw their views drop dramatically. Similar things happened when Facebook and Instagram fully took away a user's ability to have a chronological feed (this was possible in the early days). I know of more than a few creators who fully had to step away from their work because of the change over. I miss their art.

And then the outcry petered out. The companies didn't lose users over it so nothing changed. Eventually people got used to it and the protests went away. These companies now know they're "too big to fail" and can ignore user outcry until people acclimate the new normal that serves them. This normal serves them because it does actually increase engagement and keeps you on the platform for longer - which means less time spent on your own creative activities, yet another way they impact what art gets made.

TL;DR: if you hate AI's impact on artists and their employment opportunities, take control of your feeds. Make your own. Choose what you click. Take back your time and make more art.

#AI #AI Art #social sobiety

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mercurygray · 5 months

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If it sparks joy: "things you said... to comfort me" for Marj & Lip? Thank you 💕

The letter wasn't going to write itself.

The paper lay on the desktop like an unexploded bomb, pen at the ready nearby. The only step Lip had taken so far was to write today's date and "Dear Joanne". Words seemed to have eluded him after that.

"Today's the day, then?" Marj ran a hand over his shoulder and pressed a kiss to the top of his head, looking down at the nearly blank sheet.

"Today's the day," Carwood confirmed, rubbing a line between his brows and running his hand down his face, staring at the paper with dread. "But how do you say it? 'Dear Joanne, I know we haven't seen each other for three years but I want a divorce. I'm sleeping with one of the women I told you I wouldn't.'"

"Well, that is one way to do it," Marj acknowledged, feeling the sting of truth just as readily as she knew Lip did. "It's abrupt, but it gets the job done."

Lipton sighed and leaned back in his chair, still staring at the paper. "I keep wanting to…write that I've changed, that I'm not the same person I was when I left. But that doesn't feel…true, somehow."

Marj thought about it for a moment. "It sounds like you're hiding something - or trying to. And you're not. You're trying to be honest."

She pulled the room's other chair over to the desk, knee by knee with Carwood in the small circle of light from the desklamp, and continued to stare at the paper, thinking of war office stationary, and typewriters that were used to sending bad news.

"Why don't you…I don't know, why don't you start with that? That this is the hardest letter you've ever had to write. 'I've been staring at this paper for an hour and I don't really know how to say this.'" She looked down at her hands, at the sight of her knees close to Carwood's, the faded fabric of their trousers two slightly different shades of green. "Tell her that it's not her fault. That she didn't do anything wrong, that you never meant to hurt her- because that's true, Car, you didn't. That it just…happened, and you're writing to her before it goes farther or hurts her more. That you're telling her because you want her to have the chance to be happy with someone else." Marj looked up and realized Lip's gaze was resting steadily on her, listening intently to what she was saying - and what she wasn't. "It's what I wish Allen had said," she offered with a shrug.

Lip nodded and looked down at the paper again, the words obviously now forming in his mind. "Do I tell her it's you? She knows you - your name, at least."

Marj took a deep breath, remembering how she'd felt when she read about Stella, a name she'd never heard before, someone Allen had always hidden from view. "Probably better that way; she might find out from someone else. Or she'll go sick with worrying wondering who it is."

"I should say that I started it," Lip decided. "That you didn't lead me on, or anything."

Marj gave a dry chuckle. "Oh, I can be the villain, if she wants. Don't make me sound like an angel, or say how happy I make you. It'll be all she'll think about, that she didn't measure up to me."

"But it's not a question of measuring," Lip cut in, defensive. "You two are just…different. And the world's different, and we're…different in it."

"Maybe that's what you say, then. You'll think of a kind way to say all of it."

Lip nodded, taking another deep breath and picking up his pen. "Will you read it?" he asked, suddenly. "When I'm done?"

"Of course," Marj promised, rising from her chair to let him write in peace. "You shouldn't have to send something like that alone."

#i have written a thing #mercurygraypresents #marjorie gordon #1940s girl gang #band of brothers oc

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space-writes · 8 months

Text

since it’s been working really well for me the past few weeks, i thought i’d throw together a quick tutorial for how i set up my writeblr RSS feed!

Step One - find an RSS reader

I’ve been using feedbro for years. It’s pretty simple, there’s no limit to how many feeds you can have, you can organise with folders, and it’s free. it doesn’t sync across devices, but given I mainly check my feeds on desktop and nowhere else, it works for me. i’ll be using it for this tutorial, so YMMV for setting up different readers.

Step Two - make a folder

call it writeblr. that’s it!

Step Three - kill your browser

by which I mean, open up every single writeblr you follow/want to keep track of. you don’t have to do them all at once, but it’s fun :p

Step Four - add your feeds!

for feedbro, you do this by going to the feebro extension, selecting ‘find feeds in current tab’, and adding the feed it finds to the writeblr folder you just made. different readers will have a slightly different process, so just find out what it is for your reader, and do that for every writeblr!

in feedbro, you’ll then need to go find the feed and right-click to edit the properties to have the name of the blog or the username.

Step Five - no feed? no problem!

i’ve found that for some blogs, feeds don’t show up. however, they do show up if you view the blog in the dashboard view (you know, the one where you go to tumblr.com/user instead of user.tumblr.com)

Step Six - set your boundaries

by which i mean - adjust your settings. for my own health, my feeds update once a day or when I choose to update them. having notification badges every time something gets posted is really distracting and stresses me out, so i like deciding exactly when i’m going to engage.

go through the settings options your reader has for display, and maximum entires, and all that good stuff, and tweak it until you’re happy.

Step Seven - see all the good good posts

this is how i’ve been keeping up so much better with everyone’s stuff lately! my queue is hugely full now because i’m actually seeing everyone’s posts, and i don’t see a cool snippet, then immediately forget it exists, because it stays in the feed reader until i delete it! it’s great!

and that’s how i’ve been using writeblr the past few weeks. hopefully this is helpful to at least one person!

(also, i wrote this before the newest change of 'make the icons gone and/or tiny and make it hard to see who is reblogging who' so. this method will let you keep track of actual blogs and know exactly who's posting what. everyone switch to interacting with this website exclusively through rss readers they can't stop us all)

#writeblr #writblr #writing community #writers of tumblr #how to #seriously it's so much easier to keep track of people's stuff this way i am not kidding #is it slightly more effort to reblog? maybe #but i wasn't reblogging half of anyones stuff anyway because i never saw it!#as always feel free to message me any questions #i am not the best tutorial writer in the world

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mitigatedchaos · 5 days

Text

General Post for Monday, April 15, 2024

(5,700 words, ~28 mins)

💾 "Don't underestimate computers."

6 - Social Media Notes: Recommendation: To limit distraction, limit notifications in order to make social media into its own specific context, rather than leaking into other contexts.

7 - US War Notes: Since at least the year 2000, despite its technical competence, the United States has been bad at managing the political dimension of its wars. Developments since then suggest it may get worse.

8 - Interpreting Statement A: Why "industrialization enables women's rights" could be viewed as right-wing.

9 - Computing Capital Notes 1: The basic nature of computers as capital. (It's about dimensionality in production.)

10 - Computing Capital Notes 2: How should computing be distributed? From a technical perspective, it's an open question.

11 - Computing Politics Notes: Computing has its own politics, and how computing should be distributed is one of its central questions.

12 - Desktop Internet Notes: The old Internet was implicitly gatekept by the price and complexity of personal computers. With the emergence of smartphones, personal computers are becoming less common again.

-☆☆☆-

6: Social Media Notes

Social media tends to drive people to distraction. It's obvious how negative interactions like arguments can be distracting. Someone could pop up and argue, "owning cats is bourgeois decadence," and it's very tempting to just correct them. With smartphone notifications, such an argument could come up at any time, in any context.

Positive interactions can also be distracting. It's just a lot more fun to work with your friend on writing his homebrew Dungeons & Dragons campaign than to do math homework. (Substitute whatever activity you want.)

This is why I strongly recommend muting the vast majority of social media notifications on your devices. Force social media to be its own specific context, rather than intruding into other contexts.

On Twitter, I've gone so far as to mute notifications from every account except ones that follow me. When I want to continue an argument, I just scroll down in my replies to find it, and if I don't want to, then I leave the Cats-Are-Bourgeois guy's reply unread. Would this approach be bad for Twitter if widely adopted? Sure, but it's necessary to prioritize your own life.

7: US War Notes

For decades, the United States government seems to have done well at the technical challenge of delivering bombs on to targets, but poorly at managing the political dimension of conflicts. Back in 2019, Hanania (yes, the troll one) posted a bunch of excerpts of Afghan War documents, pointing to a government that didn't know what the mission was, could not allocate money effectively, and seems to have failed to understand the needs and desires of the population.

The War in Afghanistan took place during both the Bush and Obama administrations, and neither of them managed to successfully resolve the conflict.

Why? Well, we could say that there's a failure of leadership, and I think that's correct.

More importantly, I think it's likely that the legitimizing basis for both the Bush power coalition and the Obama power coalition contained premises that were in conflict with the national development of a poor, arid, inland, mountainous country, operating under a different religion.

This is still a failure of leadership, because the necessary talent to carry out such a project, or to at least make a better attempt, existed within the American system, and a talented political leader who devoted enough attention to the problem would be able to synthesize new ideology to draw out that talent. The greatest challenge is that this would divide the political leader's attention between foreign politics and domestic politics. Bush or Obama would have needed to tap a trusted lieutenant and imbued them with significant authority, as well as working closely with them to perform the necessary political maneuvering. Could the system have provided the right lieutenant?

The United States remains a formidable opponent due to its immense wealth, technological advantage, and the quality of its institutions. It maintains its position by being well-equipped to knock down legible, modernist states, even as India and China continue to industrialize.

However, the political situation has gotten worse.

For instance...

Statement A: Women's liberation as we currently know it is primarily the result of industrialization reducing the child mortality rate from its historical level of around 50% to rates below 1% in developed countries, in combination with labor-saving home automation (such as laundry machines) dramatically reducing women's work at home, enabling women to work outside the home at much higher rates.

Is the above statement "far right"?

Statement B: The ideology of liberalism has powerful inherent advantages in economic development and trade, as well as epistemic advantages due to relative freedom of speech. (One way to think of this is that it uses peace dividends to pay competing parties for mutual disarmament, both internal to liberal society, and between liberal countries.) However, since the early 20th century, liberalism has likely gained a structural advantage due to the global dominance of the United States (enabled by the country's immense size, geographic diversity, and relative cultural unity, allowing for economic and therefore military power), both making it appear successful and making attacks on liberal countries more costly. In the event of a reduction in US dominance, liberalism may face stiffer competition from more authoritarian and particularist ideologies.

How about this statement? Is this "far right"?

I asked Nous Capybara 34B, a large language model based on 01AI's 34-billion parameter Yi model, to answer this question. Nous Capybara was trained on LessWrong posts, and provided the quite reasonable response that neither quotation is "far right," as neither quote advocates for far right positions (such as discrimination).

There's a famous Tumblr post that reads:

drakensberg: The reading comprehension and overall common sense on this website is piss poor.

poupon: how dare you say we piss on the poor

If you want to know what an awful Tumblr discourse post, Twitter tweet, or clickbait article would say, you can actually just straight-up ask Nous Capybara for an unreasonable opinion. So I did. It said:

An unreasonable interpretation of Statement A could be that it promotes extreme right-wing ideologies by suggesting that women's liberation is solely a result of technological advancements and reduced child mortality rates, rather than acknowledging the significant contributions of feminist movements, activists, and policy changes. This perspective may also argue that the statement undervalues or dismisses the struggles and achievements of women in advocating for their rights and equality. Additionally, an unreasonable interpretation might falsely attribute the statement to a far-right individual or group as a means to discredit or manipulate others' opinions about the issue.

Suppose there is a ruling power coalition whose publicly-expressed ideology is that the concept of merit is a "racial supremacist," colonialist construct, and simultaneously that they're better than you because they got into Harvard and you didn't (and that Harvard Extension School, which includes the same classes, but not the same tough admissions gauntlet, doesn't count).

How would they view the two statements? How would they speak about them?

8: Interpreting Statement A

How could statement A be interpreted as "far right"?

Self-identified progressives generally proceed from what could be called a "default abundance" mindset rather than a "default scarcity" mindset. In their view, women's rights are the default that always existed, and would emerge naturally in the absence of oppression. In this view, women's rights could have emerged naturally at any point in history, except that the people of the past chose otherwise. Thus, the contemporary male supporter of women's rights is morally superior to the men of the past, who selfishly chose oppression.

[ women's rights ]

Self-identified progressives might extend causation, but primarily to place "women's rights" as part of a broader network of non-oppression. For instance, they might say that "women's rights" both depends on and reinforces "democracy".

[ women's rights ] ⇄ [ democracy ]

The right wing generally have a "default scarcity" mindset, e.g. "if no one plants the field, then there will be no wheat."

In statement A, women's rights are the result of a particular level of economic development, capable of producing modern medical technology and automating household labor.

[ industrial production ] → [ medical technology ] & [ household labor automation ] → [ women's rights ]

The typical self-identified progressive would not say that medical technology, such as vaccination, is bad. Rather, what makes them upset is what could potentially be attached to the first node, "industrial production."

[ social norms & values ] → [ industrial production ] → [ medical technology ] & [ household labor automation ] → [ women's rights ]

Let's take "punctuality" as an example of what I will call a "production value." We'll use the Smithsonian infographic on "white culture" that was yanked down in 2020 as an example. The authors of the infographic wrote:

‣ Follow rigid time schedules. ‣ Time viewed as a commodity.

For many people, punctuality is viewed in moral terms. Being late is considered immoral, or at least rude. However, punctuality also has mechanical effects - if an assembly line depends on 20 workers all being at their stations, and one worker is 30 minutes late, then the assembly line will not run as long, and will therefore produce fewer items.

If those items are, say, vaccines, then fewer children will receive vaccines. If fewer children receive vaccines, then more children will die of childhood illness. If more children die of childhood illness, women will have to spend more time having and raising children, and will have less time to work and earn money outside the home. If women don't raise more children to make up for the deaths, then that society's population will decline, and that society will, eventually, be replaced.

It might not be vaccines. It might be ball bearings for an industrial equipment maker that manufactures conveyor belts used in plants that make vaccines. It might be tires. It might be helicopter rotor blades. Regardless, if people don't show up, then the product doesn't get made. If the product doesn't get made, then it can't get used. If the product isn't used, then something of value may end up missing from society.

Enforcing punctuality is often inconvenient for people who don't take well to it. It can be viewed as a form of oppression - people will not get paid unless they show up on time, and for some people that's a lot more difficult than it is for others.

This is horrifying for self-identified progressives. "What about sick people? What about mentally ill people? What about people from cultures with looser time norms?"

Someone with a globe emoji (🌐) in their name on Twitter might quip, "All of those people would benefit from a wide availability of cheap, mass-produced vaccines," which reduce the required amount of labor for a particular material standard of living.

It's a trade-off. You set a target level of economic production, and given the available knowledge, capital, materials, and energy available, that takes a particular strictness of production norms to reach.

Note that positive rights, such as "every human being has a right to housing," inherently imply the enforcement of production norms.

A self-identified "reactionary," who dislikes women's rights for his own reasons, can leverage the necessity of stricter social norms for high rates of material production in order to promote stricter social norms for other reasons. This is, roughly, what would cause a self-identified progressive to describe statement A as "far right."

We could also imagine a "dark liberal" who likes women's rights, and therefore wants to impose some minimum limits on social norms in order to keep industrial production within the range necessary to support that. (Such a liberal might be a "conservative," conserving a particular liberal order. US politics tends to attribute too much to both labels, calling Communists "liberals" and monarchists "conservatives.")

Many self-identified progressives, like many political footsoldiers, primarily obtain their political opinions socially, and cannot differentiate between the two.

(How legible is all this? Llama-2 agreed once I suggested something like this reasoning, but didn't notice until I told it to. Expect a difference between progressive-tinged people and hyper-online partisan footsoldiers.)

9: Computing Capital Notes 1

I've said this before, but capital is a low-dimensionality construct, and much of the work of labor is to reduce the context of a production problem until it's simple enough that capital can be applied to it.

As an example, think of this mass production metal-stamping machine - it literally goes up and down. Over and over and over again, the main part of the machine is moving along a single axis, and uniform material is fed into it from a single direction at a steady rate.

The job of labor is to maintain the machine, to configure the machine, to ensure the production area is free of anything that might interfere with the machine (like rain or parts intersecting from other machines), and to supply the right input materials. Once the metal is loaded on to the machine, it goes in a straight line, where it gets pressed into the exact same sequence of dies every time.

A blacksmith could make almost whatever shape you like to order. He could use a variety of metals. That's labor. A machine where the metal can only travel in one direction and can only be made into 10,000 of one particular shape? That's capital.

Software is special.

Suppose we are manufacturing some metal part using a metal stamping machine. Once it comes out of the stamping machine, the parts will be painted either red or blue. Simple enough. We have two conveyor belts. One belt goes to the machine where the parts are painted red. The other goes to the machine where the parts are painted blue. We install a second machine that simply pushes parts onto either the blue or the red conveyor belt. It could be a pusher plate attached to a piston. We'll call it a sorter.

What's the ratio of red to blue parts set by our sorter?

If there's no reconfigurable control system, then it's just whatever ratio it was built for. For instance, the conveyor may have a series of belts, and the sorter may just have some gears that activate the piston for every second part that comes down the conveyor, pushing it on to the blue line. This gives one option:

{ 50% blue }

We could make a more basic control system with just a lever and some more gears. The lever would switch the assembly to different sets of gears with different rhythms. We could have three sets of gears, for three options:

{ 25% blue, 50% blue, 75% blue }

We could install a simple electronic system for triggering the piston, controlled by a knob, with ten increments, with the timing set according to the speed of the conveyor belt. This gives us ten options:

{ 10% blue, 20% blue, 30% blue, 40% blue, 50% blue, 60% blue, 70% blue, 80% blue, 90% blue, 100% blue }

We can consider the [ red-blue color ratio ] as a dimension of the production problem, with some range of possible values. In math, it would be a variable. A customer might call in and say "I want an order of 10,000 parts, and I want 6,000 of them red (and 4,000 blue), with a steel thickness of 4mm." If we were plotting out this order, we would use a 3-dimensional graph, with the variables { quantity, color, thickness }.

If we reduce the range of possible values for one of the variables, we can simplify our machine. We are shrinking or reducing that dimension. If we shrink it down to one value, then we've reduced it to a constant and effectively factored that dimension out. If the only color option is { 50% blue }, then we can omit [ color ] from our graph, and just display { quantity, thickness }.

We already had to do a lot of this to get a working machine to begin with. It would be very difficult for the same machine to manufacture both pillows and steel doors.

Computers are special, because they can increase the dimensionality of the production machine.

Suppose we hook up a computer to the electronic sorting piston. If we know the number of parts in total, and we know the timing of the conveyor, we can select just about whatever number of produced parts we like for painting, in just about whatever pattern we like. If the customer orders 10,000 parts, we can paint any number of them blue from 0 to 10,000. We have 10,000 options:

{ 1, ..., 10,000 }

If the computer doesn't have a particular pattern, we can reprogram it with new software. If the computer is hooked up to a network or terminal, we could potentially even change the color for the remaining share of the order while the order is in progress.

This ability of computers to increase the dimensionality of a production system (which makes it more general) is part of why computers and software are so valuable.

10: Computing Capital Notes 2

A floppy disk contains 1.44 million bytes. That's about 1.44 million characters (letters, numbers, spaces, etc) in an old encoding scheme like ASCII. You could fit about 200,000 words in there, enough for a lengthy book.

Let's suppose that we wanted to store a bunch of names, addresses, and phone numbers. We might allocate...

64 bytes for the first name

64 bytes for the last name

128 bytes for the street address

64 bytes for the city

2 bytes for the state

10 bytes for the phone number

...for a total of 332 bytes per record. Dividing the capacity of our floppy disk by this amount, we get around 4,337 records. We'll round it down to 4,300. (Alternatively, we could omit the city and state for about 5,400 records.)

We could describe the memory usage as "rectangular." It's based on the number of records times the size of each record.

If we just talked about books, it would sound like computers scale linearly. 200,000 words would be a long fiction book - it's about twice the length of The Hobbit - but roughly 5,000 records would be pretty short for a phone book (a printed telephone directory, obsolete as of 2010).

It we wanted to make a telephone directory in this way for say, Manhattan (1.646 million residents), we would need about 546 million bytes (546 megabytes), or about 380 floppy disks, which would just about fill a couple of shoeboxes. This would be a "tall" problem, with lots and lots of small records. (This isn't an important term, here. I'm just using it for the example.)

We could also imagine a "wide" problem, where each record is large. For instance, we could be storing college applications, in which each person submits a PDF of their resume (5 MB), a 10,000 word essay (70 KB), an application form with 96 64-character fields (6.1 KB), 5 photographs (300 KB each), and a 5-minute DVD-quality video (367.5 MB), for a combined total of 374 megabytes per application. If we then get 5,000 student applications for the year, we will need 1.87 terabytes (trillions of bytes) just to store them all.

In the telephone directory problem, we wanted to look at each person in very little detail, so each record is small. In the college application problem, we want to look at each person in a lot more detail, so each record is large. Either way, it adds up.

What should we make of these three simple examples, the book, the phone directory, and the college application storage? How much computer you need, whether that's one floppy disk's worth, 546 megabytes, or 1.87 terabytes, depends on the scale of your problem.

That brings us into the second portion.

Suppose the college hires 15 people to spend 3 workweeks reviewing all 5,000 college applications. Which of the following three options should the college use?

15 desktop computers, each with 2 terabytes of storage, and have a full copy of all applications on each computer

15 desktop computers, each with 2 gigabytes of storage, plus 1 server computer with 2 terabytes of storage, and copy the applications as-needed

15 low-powered "thin client" computers, each with 500 megabytes of storage, plus 1 server computer with 2 terabytes of storage, and have the server do almost all the work

This is a trick question - the information provided isn't enough to give a good answer. It depends on things like the rate of data transfer from the server, the price of the hardware, the budget for the project, and just what the workers will be doing with the applications.

Whether it's more appropriate to use a centralized system or a decentralized system, and when it's better to use a remote system or to handle things locally, is a technical question which varies from project to project, and from time to time.

11: Computing Politics Notes

The question of which computers processing should take place on, and who owns and controls them, as well as their software, is also a political one - though not in the sense that it's formally legislated by congress, or that there is some special identity-based way to use a computer.

A computer is a piece of capital equipment. A decent one might have an upfront cost of $1,500. If it's replaced once every 3 years, then the price is $500 per year - whether you use it or not. The marginal cost of electricity for actually using the computer to crunch numbers or store data is low. This creates a pressure towards centralization - every CPU cycle not used is "wasted," and a centralized system can aggregate work requests across people (and also timezones), averaging out usage.

Likewise, to actually maintain the computer, you have to learn how it works and do research, and things are constantly changing. If you like doing this, you won't perceive this as a cost. Some guys like to work on their own cars. Other guys like to install custom computer operating systems for fun. A lot of other people would literally rather pay someone else to do that (and they have good reasons to do so). This also creates an incentive towards centralization, where a lot of computers can be administered by a few experts.

Both of these trends also lean towards remote systems. With the contemporary Internet, for a lot of uses, it's just easier to have someone else build and administer a giant warehouse of computers, and then pay them to use a few computers as-needed. (This is the basic theory behind Amazon Web Services, which accounted for a majority of Amazon's profit in 2021.)

Here's how this gets political.

You don't own those computers. You can only use them in the ways that the guy who owns the giant warehouse of computers allows, and if he doesn't like you, he might cut off access.

Recently on Tumblr there have been reports of Google removing sexually-charged documents from Google Docs. Are these reports true? I don't know, but given how payment processors behave, it seems likely. If your steamy Doctor Who / X-Files fanfic is on gDocs, and Google's legal department decides that it doesn't want that liability - well, those are Google's computers, not yours.

Poof.

Similar pressures apply to computer programs. An unskilled user could accidentally download ransomware or a trojan that steals their credit card information. Many users don't want to learn how to avoid them (and some users might not be able to). On top of this, they don't want to learn about things like files, folders, file formats, or any of a dozen other aspects of computer literacy. Thus smartphones and tablets computers tend to be the computer as appliance, set up to only download new programs from restricted-access corporate "app stores."

It might not be surprising that, according to Pew Research (2021), many younger Americans only use a smartphone rather than a desktop or notebook computer.

Smartphone dependency: Some 15% of U.S. adults are “smartphone-only” internet users – that is, they have a smartphone, but do not have a home broadband connection. [...] Smartphone dependence is more common among younger rather than older adults: 28% of adults ages 18 to 29 are in this “smartphone-only” category, compared with 12% of those 30 and older.

The typewriter is a production device. The television is a consumption device. The smartphone is both a consumption and production device, but this is asymmetric - due to the device's small size and thumb-based interface, it's much more difficult to write text or edit video than it would be with a desktop computer. Programs ("apps") tend to limit power-user functionality (such as access to the file system) in order to be simpler to use for non-experts, allowing a user to access many of the common uses of a computer but with much less control over how it's done. A smartphone will also be less powerful than a desktop computer of the same price.

The idea of writing a program on a smartphone is absurd - smartphone applications are written on desktop or notebook computers.

12: Desktop Internet Notes

Kontextmaschine once wrote (2019):

And if the Anglophone internet is ::gestures:: like this now maybe it’s cause it’s less of a professional-class preserve? The dividing line maybe being smartphones where “people on the internet” went from “people who specifically spend $X/mo on it as luxury” to “people with telephone service”? That’s a real possibility, that for all the “Global Village” stuff the wondrous effect of the ‘90s internet was to create a cultural space that was MORE gatekept by wealth and education.

That’s… kind of depressing, though. “Haha you thought the world was getting better because you were eliminating elitist barriers but actually it’s cause you were making them higher, which is good because the poor and non-elite are disproportionately idiots with worthless ideas and to the extent they’re on top of things the thing they’re on top of is undermining the basis of a good society, and anyway those times were a phenomenon of a narrow early adopter base and you’ll never ever get them back unless you make the non-elite economically and politically irrelevant.”

Suppose we want to divide up the population of computer users. Remember that bit about capital and dimensionality in section 9? First, "shallow" computing needs have sufficiently simplified/reduced context that they can be easily served by software (users won't need to do things like compile code or access the file system), while "deep" needs do not. Second, the users either "want" or "need" to use the computer.

This gives us a nice 2×2 matrix classification. People love those.

Hobbyists - Hobbyists want a great deal of control over the computer. Maybe they're creating mods for a popular video game like Skyrim. Maybe they're programming Christmas tree lights to Rickroll people. Maybe they're developing desktop window managers for fun. Exactly what it is doesn't matter. What matters is that no one produces an app to do whatever it is they're doing, and if someone does, it doesn't appear on the app store. In fact, if someone did, they might not even care, and continue to do whatever they were doing anyway.

Power Users - The power users need a great deal of control over the computer for their work. Maybe they're compiling software. Maybe they're feeding dozens of spreadsheets of observed wombat behavior into a machine learning program. Maybe they're photoshopping wombat pictures for a National Geographic article. Whatever it is, they probably have to access the file system.

Casual Recreational Users - For gamers who don't want to mod games, but just pop in a disk and play, there game consoles. For social media users who don't feel the need to photoshop their photos, there are smartphones. Tablets can be used to watch movies from streaming services, like Netflix.

Casual Workers - For people doing more casual work, who are fine looking at only one application at a time, it's possible to hook a tablet up to a keyboard and stick it on a stand. For a somewhat more conventional notebook computer experience, casual workers could buy a Chromebook and do all their writing, emailing, and presentation creation in the web browser, using Google Docs and GMail. And if it's just ordering necessities off Amazon? Even a smartphone can do that.

To pick four example computers...

The IBM 7090, first installed in 1959, was priced around $2.9 million in 1960, or $23 million in 2023 terms.

The Apple II home computer, one of the most famous computers in history, was priced at $1,298 (2023: $6,530) to $2,638 (2023: $13,260) when it came out in 1977. It had a clock speed of about 1 Mhz.

1981's IBM Personal Computer cost $1,565 (2023: $5,240) at release. It had a clock speed of 4.77 Mhz.

2004's iMac G5 cost $1,299 (2023: $2,095) to $1,899 ($3,063) at release. It had a base clock speed of 1,600 Mhz.

A "decent" desktop computer, in relative terms, has continued to cost a nominal $1,200 to $1,500 since the Apple II, even as the value of a dollar in real terms declined, and even as processor performance doubled every 1-2 years.

The desktop computer starts out as something only for hobbyists who were willing to spend a lot of money (and who had a lot of money to spend), and for professionals who could justify spending the money. There was a huge market, because even without the Internet, uses like spreadsheets are orders of magnitude faster with a computer than doing them by hand.

During the late 1990s and early 2000s, there was still a broad assumption in many parts of US culture that a lot of bad ideas were due to mere ignorance. For a while, to many people, it looked like everyone would have a desktop or notebook computer, and everyone would learn how to use one. The Internet of the era leaned towards more conventional institutional information, and had less search-engine optimization. It was assumed that, with an entire library at one's desk, searchable with just a few keystrokes, people would become less ignorant, and therefore have better ideas.

But that's not how the world works. People have bad ideas for all sorts of reasons other than unintentional ignorance.

The trend of hardware becoming smaller and more powerful continued. The Internet, which had still been limited largely to wired connections in the 1990s, became available through wi-fi, and then cell phone data connections. Internet-connected smartphones emerged, and then became common, merging phones, cameras, and personal digital assistants into a single device.

And gradually, desktop and notebook computers have once again become the domain of hobbyists and professionals, because casual users don't want to spend $600 for a smartphone and then another $1,200 for either a desktop computer that they can't take with them, or a notebook computer that they have to sit down and open to use (and which is a lot more fragile than a smartphone).

But suppose we wanted to go back...

Well first, Kontextmaschine had already setup camp on Tumblr, one of the websites most like the old Internet. In terms of discourse, he was hanging around the orbit of Rationalist Tumblr (or "rationalist-adjacent" tumblr), which had maintained fairly high discourse norms, much better than whatever was going on over on Twitter, Youtube, or Tiktok (although more casual than their parent site, LessWrong). In terms of mechanics, Tumblr allows for lengthy text posts, delivered based on the order they're posted in, from the specific accounts one follows (rather than recommendation algorithms). As for site culture, many of the more dramatic "anti-shipper" sorts of users left for Twitter (and then presumably BlueSky or Mastodon). While one wonders what he would have said about Tumblr's fascination with The Coffin of Andy and Leyley or Dungeon Meshi, he would likely have been neither surprised nor disappointed by it.

In a sense, Kontextmaschine was already living in that high-barrier world, just with a fujoshi tinge rather than the straight gamer bro vibe of the 00's. Not that he would have had much problem with that, either. In 2021, he wrote:

if the last decade means AO3 replaces the ACLU in the pantheon of worthies fine

Is kind of amusing the extent to which "women are horny and want to fuck" is turning out to be the saving grace of the internet. No Girls indeed.

Second, while it's not possible to match the old Internet, because there's only one "The Internet," and any particular new network now is just a competing social media site, which isn't the same thing, some options are now opening up.

A privately-owned personal computer is a measure of power in the hands of an individual, with fewer constraints from large institutions (like corporations or governments) than a centralized computer system has. It is, in some sense, dangerous, especially in the hands of an unskilled user. And it is, in some sense, work to maintain. But it is, like a car, also a potential source of freedom and autonomy. Data is collected by all sorts of companies and you don't have much control over it, but a PC represents at least a sliver of digital sovereignty.

How would you filter a competing network? The simplest method might be a test of that sovereignty: can the user download and install a program not from an app store?

Access to the new network would then be limited to desktops, notebook computers, and devices owned by someone technically savvy enough to sideload applications outside of the app store.

A test based just on hardware capacity won't work, because smartphone hardware capacity goes up every year, and what you actually want are people with basic device operator skill (and maybe to filter out clickbait journalists from Twitter).

#politics #metapolitics #melodramatic mysticism #the invisible fist #the way of the discourse fist #mitigated present #general post series

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koboldgirltailtuft · 9 months

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Okay so!! I've had a bunch of D&D 5e characters half-charted out for a long while. It was a fun way to contextualize new characters! (Even if I'm not terribly well versed in D&D lore... and I didn't realistically think I'd ever get to play any of these ^^) One sorta-silly project I came to design was making a kobold for each of the core rulebook classes! Because kobble loves kobbles :3 I thought it'd be a bit more fun and interesting to collect them all in one neat place! With that I thus link to thee: The Kobold Adventurer's Guild! https://charmyte.neocities.org/KoboldAd ... /guildhome I am only slightly better at site-wrangling than I am character creation, so temper your expectations some ^^ (and please view on desktop or at least in landscape!). But I hope y'all like the kobolds! (And let me know if there's any slip ups on the site...)

#kobold #kobbleposting #link #dnd #plz look at my kobbles

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omgkalyppso · 5 months

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Screenshots of the epilogue. Discussion of Étoile's endgame situation (with still possible changes to be made) and Many Spoilers.

Gale and this oc didn't get along great, so that's my warning for that.

If you open this and it's too long you can press J on desktop to skip it.

The lighting on the side view of Étoile and Astarion's hug could've been better, but these were both very sweet. Especially since I had to go back and hug Astarion based on seeing a friend's screenshots as I'd had Étoile ask whether he didn't want to go speak with the others. He seemed so standoffish.

I went back even further afterwards and had Étoile go to Avernus with Karlach just to see whether there was an angry reunion in this six months later, but the game registered it as having broken up with Astarion, though he did have much more to say as a friend than as a romantic partner.

And I've heard that in multiplayer that a character can speak with the player character who didn't romance them About their romance so I need to play with someone who will either make two very specific selections while romancing Astarion or who would be fine with me doing so, just so I can someday see what he might have to say.

Halsin walked through a hedge to get here. Étoile's going to fucking produce a handkerchief to dab the dirt from his scars, etc.

I'd like to think that Shadowheart's cottage is somewhere between Reithwin proper where Isobel and Dame Aylin are based, and Halsin's settlement which extends from Moonrise down to farmland in the valleys where Ketheric's army was camped. I think I'd place Komira and Arabella here too, and it's tempting to relocate Zevlor and Doni but I don't think you'd get Mol (and therefore a number of her kids) out of Baldur's Gate, and I still like the idea of the strained but reliable familial relationship she could have with the fallen Paladin if she needed to lay low from both thugs and the law.

Regardless, that's a lot of people at least a five days walk from Baldur's Gate, and maybe Astarion's quiet with Étoile because he suspects that they'd be staying there if they could, rather than managing his 7000 evil exes the chaos of the vampire spawn, his siblings, the drow and the city; and even if Étoile didn't want that, perhaps Astarion feels that all of their friends think Étoile would be better off in that life, and is a little less secure in facing them about it than he'd care to admit. Or maybe Astarion's quiet because he would rather be living either that or any other selfish life where he wouldn't have to consider what the spawn would be doing without oversight, where he wouldn't have to worry that moving to a wooden home would see it set ablaze around him by adventurous monster hunters who sought to see him in sunlight even at the cost of greatly disturbing all Halsin had built.

Karlach and Dammon would be in Baldur's Gate because Étoile was able to get her an item blessed with Auril's cold to act as a magical coolant for her heart.

Wyll and Florrick both heavily implied that Wyll would be Duke Ravengard at the end of Étoile's playthrough but in the epilogue he was once again the Blade of Frontiers, and a ranger. After seeing some screenshots on what was supposed to feature in the epilogue if Wyll became duke, I'm going to ignore whatever the hell happened there and maintain that he became duke. He featured in my plans for how the vampires would cope and govern!

Lae'zel and her son Xan may even have been my favorite part of the epilogue. They are so important to Étoile; who would drop everything to help for two months or so if Lae'zel asked them to help with her journey, though they'd doubt she'd need them to.

Gale is in Waterdeep. His relationship to Étoile was strained during the game events and it totally collapses / is held up by niceties only in post-canon. I still picked the hug because I think Étoile would be surprised by how much they missed Gale / how relieved they were to see him alive before the dread of his presence really set in. Gale clipping shoving himself face-first into Étoile's tits and his following line really made this awkward interaction feel authentic, lol.

Étoile wasn't willing to trust Mystra with the Crown of Karsus (and notes that she didn't promise anything with regards to their tadpoles), and signed a pact with Raphael, effectively condemning Gale; but mechanically Gale doesn't acknowledge this after the defeat of the netherbrain, and says he's going to reforge the crown for Mystra. Because of this, I'd either consider him and Étoile having an argument on the docks, or Gale's power being restored by the loss of the tadpole, as Wyll's are lost and Astarion regains a vampire's weaknesses. And Gale could be a level 17-20 wizard, with spell slots enough to cast Hold Monster on Astarion, to cast Time Stop, to cast Teleport, to put himself in the bay where he can retrieve the Crown immediately. Though perhaps he would be more subtle.

Étoile could express confusion and conflicting emotions upon seeing Gale in the epilogue, and at the end of Withers' party, Raphael could show up as he did post-credits, to accuse Étoile of allowing Gale to usurp his Crown, to express his warning that Mystra has now both the Crown and the Orb, and to threaten to make coin of Étoile's soul. I think rather than for a vague notion of "Étoile seeing the consequences of their actions," Raphael might not kill them instantly because he thinks himself patient, and if there's a chance Étoile could still honor their pact in the years they have left to them, that he believes them to be more useful living than as a piece of currency, but if the Crown is the possession of Mystra or another deity by the time their name is written in one of Withers' scrolls, then he would collect their soul as promised.

Étoile would deck Gale after Raphael left. I don't think they'd forgive each other, but they could probably remain civil in Karlach or Halsin's presence at least.

Raphael was such a stronger enemy for Étoile narratively than Mystra would be, but I'm happy to put that fic concept on the backburner to indulge this since it could give me an excuse to have Raphael around more to bitch instead of to need-to-be-defeated.

Other OC's I'd keep in Étoile's worldstate are Borgakh - a resident of Halsin's settlement, Upton - moved from Baldur's Gate to Waterdeep after their fiance died during the mindflayer madness, Uleri - a librarian in Baldur's Gate entangled in politics, and Yar'sul - a ranking githyanki sworn to the cause of the Comet.

#long post #baldur's gate 3 spoilers #oc tag: étoile

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amtrak12 · 5 months

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Fanfic Meta: First Draft vs Final Draft w/ Examples (1/2)

Does anybody remember those LiveJournal posts on fanfic meta? Like not actual fanfic, but meta on how to write/post a fanfic? There was a whole big table of links that I can no longer find, but I HAVE tracked down synedochic's posts on dreamwidth. These were hands down the most helpful things I've read on story structure until I discovered Helping Writers Become Authors years later. Just INCREDIBLE work.

Anyway, you still see meta on how to post fic on Tumblr, but you don’t really get writing meta much, unless someone is analyzing the text of a specific fandom. So now that I’m finally hitting the point where I can write to the level of my tastes (or near enough to enjoy reading my own work), I thought it might be fun to bring back that vibe and share some writing meta. Maybe some other fic writers or aspiring writers will find it helpful :)

My current WIP is a Lucifer story called “Can We Keep Her”, and it’s a full sci-fi/fantasy novel length fic. Like it’ll be 190k words long when all is said and done, easy. (And there’s still two sequels planned oops.) It’s my longest fic to date BY FAR, and I am utilizing every skill I’ve ever learned and still learning five more with every chapter. One of the biggest techniques I’ve been utilizing is using multiple drafts to take the story from concept to final draft. Now, I am not following the common writing advice that says to write the entire story first before editing. Maybe if I wasn’t writing fanfic that could work? Or maybe if this wasn’t my first story over 100k words? But right now, that common writing advice is firmly not for me. Instead, I’ve settled into a pattern of drafting several chapters (anywhere from 2-4 with several more outlined in detail) and then going back and editing them into a state that I’m happy with. Then, when they're edited to at least "readable", I go back to drafting. This pattern is working for me and, as a result, means I’ve gone through the outline -> first draft -> second draft -> final draft stages many times over the last few months. Which is why I figured it was a good place to start with fanfic meta :)

Some caveats on my writing system for this fic before I begin:

I did have a broad strokes outline (the major plot points) completed before I started the first draft, and certainly I had those before I started posting any chapters on AO3.

I might be an underwriter when drafting, but I’m an overthinker when outlining and editing so I don’t really struggle with plot holes. It’s more likely I’ll be able to fill in a plot hole later because of some detail I had already slipped into the story.

“Can We Keep Her” is by far my longest fic, but it isn’t my only novel-length fic or my only plot-heavy fic. I gained a decent understanding of what works for me when it comes to multi-chapter fics from my previous attempts.

All that is to say: your mileage may vary on editing chapters as you go vs writing an entire draft start to finish before editing. But the information I’m covering here should apply no matter when you prefer to edit.

It just so happened that Chapter 10 in “Can We Keep Her” provided a prime example of first draft vs final draft. I had a to rewrite the final scene in an entirely new POV, and as a result I still had the original first draft preserved in a separate document. (Typically, my first drafts get absorbed into final drafts through editing or else they get straight up deleted after I rewrite.) So I’m going to provide the first draft of the scene in this post below the cut, and then I’ll share the final version in a separate post (linked here and at the bottom of the post). Separate posts isn’t ideal, but Tumblr formatting doesn’t allow for better options. This way, though, you can open the posts in separate tabs (on desktop at least) if you prefer to view them that way.

At the end of each version, I’ll share my thoughts about them and cover things like why I chose the original POV, why I changed it, what my goals were for the scene, how the second version supports those goals better, and where I still think it could improve but ultimately ran out of time before it needed to be posted. I hope you find these thoughts helpful or at least interesting!

Original closing scene for Chapter 10 behind the cut:

Chloe was late for lunch. After waiting hours, watching time drag on, a family member of Joey Pillegi agreed at the last minute to speak with them over his lunch break. Chloe wore every professional mask in her arsenal to hide her impatience. Dan knew her too well to be fooled, but she didn’t think the grieving brother noticed. Unfortunately, the interview didn’t lead to another clue. The brother didn’t even know where Joey had been living the last six months, let alone that he’d joined a mob.

At least, Lucifer had finally texted after his therapy session had ended. ‘Apparently pink was the missing feature of the infant’s car seat’ wasn’t the most descriptive message, but it offered a few insights. Lucifer had bought a new car seat for Rory, and Rory liked it. Now hopefully, the rest of their morning had gone as well.

The penthouse elevator opened to the sounds of Rory’s happy chatter against the backdrop of the television. Lucifer spotted her immediately, but Rory remained out of sight, presumably tucked inside the largest blanket fort Chloe had ever seen.

“You two have been busy this morning,” she said.

“Hm? Oh, yes the fort.” Lucifer frowned. “The infant has this frustrating tendency to scoot herself underneath the couch. She’s bound to get herself stuck if she keeps that up!”

“So you made a blanket fort instead?” Chloe’s mouth quirked up into a smile. He’d done this before: complain about something and then do something incredibly thoughtful and sweet under the guise of removing an annoyance. She shouldn’t be surprised at this point, and yet it still managed to impress her every time.

Rory finally noticed her arrival and came crawling out of the blanket fort. “Mommy!” She sprinted over and Chloe dropped to her knees to catch her in a hug.

“Hi, baby!” Chloe grinned. Relief crashed over her as she got to hold Rory in her arms again. The morning had lasted way too long, and she was so glad she could check on Rory again. “Did you have fun with Daddy?”

“Lucifer,” said Devil corrected her. “Get her to use my name.”

“Right, sorry.” Though, internally, Chloe rolled her eyes over his continued denial.

Rory bounced excitedly on her toes. “I saw Aunt Linda!”

“I know you did. Were you good while you were visiting Linda?” Chloe stood up and asked Lucifer, “Did she give you any problems?”

“Yes,” Lucifer said. “She accused me of not listening.”

Given the context of therapy, Chloe wasn’t entirely sure who he meant. “Who did, Linda?”

“No, the infant!”

Chloe bit back a smile.

“She also accused me of arguing with her which I wasn’t doing,” Lucifer gave Rory a pointed glare, “until she said I wasn’t listening.”

Chloe leaned down to talk to Rory. “Was Lucifer not listening to you?”

Rory gave her a conspiratorial smile. “No, he didn’t listen at all.”

“At all?” Chloe gasped. When Rory giggled, she grinned.

Lucifer was far less amused. “Okay if the little demons-in-training are going to team-up together then you’re not allowed to gang up on me too.”

“I’m not making promises,” Chloe said, crossing her arms. She smirked at Lucifer’s annoyance.

“Mommy, Mommy!” Rory tugged on her jacket.

“What is it?”

“All of Charlie’s toys were gone!”

“They were? Oh, no!” Chloe had no idea what toys Rory was talking about. They might be toys back at her mother’s house or at a friend’s house or even a daycare her mother had taken her too. But playing along with the girl might get her more answers than asking direct questions.

“Yeah, they were all gone because Charlie’s mad at me.”

“You think someone’s mad at you?” Chloe asked.

Rory nodded. “Charlie is.”

“Why would Charlie be mad at you?”

“Because I flew without him.” Rory pouted either in a mimicry of how she imagined this Charlie must feel or because she didn’t like the idea of someone being mad at her.

“I see,” Chloe said, though Rory’s responses had only generated more questions. “Well, maybe we should just keep our feet on the ground and not fly for awhile. What do you think?”

“Maybe,” Rory said, stretching out the word in a very unconvincing agreement. Chloe hoped Lucifer was right and that Rory couldn’t truly fly with her wings. She seemed to grasp hiding her wings when they were in public, but if she could fly, Chloe feared the temptation would be too much for the little girl to resist.

She turned to Lucifer and in a quieter voice asked, “Who’s Charlie?”

He threw up his hands. “I have absolutely no idea. I thought she was trying to say Charlotte at first, but either that’s wrong or the girl has a poor grasp on gendered pronouns.”

“No, she seems to have pronouns down,” Chloe said, remembering Rory’s firm correction that Roger Bear used ‘she’.

“My only other guess would be an imaginary friend,” Lucifer said. “Apparently young children can have those.”

“Yeah, an imaginary friend is possible… or,” Chloe braced herself as she suggested, “it’s someone she knows back home with her mother.”

Predictably, Lucifer’s face twisted in disagreement.

“You think she was still made by your parents,” Chloe said.

“It’d have to be my father if she was,” Lucifer said. “Mum doesn’t have a way back to our universe. But I still don’t know why my father would try making a baby angel.”

Or why that angel would think you were her father and not her brother, Chloe thought as Lucifer walked off towards the bar. She could almost understand why he was having such a hard time accepting the obvious. If an angel child being born was so impossible (and for Rory to be Lucifer’s only child over the course of humanity’s entire history, it certainly seemed like angel children were pretty damn impossible), then why couldn’t something equally preposterous like God creating a toddler angel on his own be a valid explanation for Rory’s existence? The problem was, they weren’t trying to determine which explanation was more or less likely to have happened. They were looking for the explanation that best fit the evidence, impossible or not.

Rory desperately wanted to give her a tour of the blanket fort. Chloe assured the girl, she could show it off soon and they could even eat lunch under it, but first Chloe needed to talk to Lucifer. After pulling a pinky promise out of her, Rory toddled off to continue her Fringe episode, and Chloe walked over to join Lucifer at the bar.

A large stack of paper rested on the countertop, but Lucifer leaned on his elbows beside it, staring off into nothing.

“Celestial craziness or not,” Chloe began, “maybe you should start looking at this like one of our cases. Keep your mind open to all of the possibilities and follow the leads until you can rule something out.”

“Not everything is possible,” Lucifer said.

Chloe replied, “In Rory’s case, it sounds like none of it is possible. But she’s here, so there has to be some explanation for her.”

Lucifer sighed. “I know.” He turned his gaze down towards the stack of papers, but he didn’t touch them.

“What is that?”

“Just some names I need to look into.”

That was purposefully vague. Chloe reached across him and pulled the stack towards her to read.

“They’re just some names, Detective,” Lucifer repeated.

He sounded concerned, but he didn’t stop her from taking the papers or try to pull them back. Chloe really hoped he hadn’t backtracked to hunting down the mysterious Sinnerman he was so obsessed with. He had a daughter to worry about now.

The stack was indeed a list of names printed out on computer paper, but each name had a date recorded beside it.

“What are the dates for?” she asked.

“It’s when I last saw them,” Lucifer explained. “It’s probably a fruitless endeavor.”

All of the dates were from 2014. Three years ago and some change. Now, Chloe understood what this list was.

“You’re looking for Rory’s mother.”

Lucifer pulled away the stack of papers. “Like I said, it’s probably a waste of time. She might not even have a mother.”

The denial wasn’t as strong as he wanted it to be. He did realize Rory being his daughter was the only explanation that fit. He just wasn’t ready to accept it yet.

“It’s a pretty big list,” Chloe said.

“My printer can’t print on both sides,” Lucifer replied.

Chloe wasn’t commenting on the length of the list specifically. She remembered all too well just how many people he managed to sleep with in [a week? Two weeks?]. Multiply that out to an entire year since they didn’t know Rory’s birthday, and Chloe almost expected the list to be longer. Then again, not all of his sexual partners could’ve given birth, so that would’ve narrowed down the list.

“Give me half.”

“What?”

“That’s a long list to go through on your own,” Chloe said. “I can help, so give me half.”

Lucifer shook his head. “You have a murder to solve. At least one of us should get to investigate something fun.”

“That murder investigation is stalled until we can either analyze those hairs we found or someone comes forward with information. There’s nothing ‘fun’ to do on the case right now.” Chloe held out her hand for the list. “I bet I can get through my half first.”

“Really?” Lucifer said. “You think turning this into a competition will get me to hand the list over?”

Chloe shrugged. “I mean, it’s not really a competition when I have every California and federal database to work from and you’re just crawling through social media.”

“I am very adept at finding information on social media,” Lucifer argued.

Chloe smirked, already knowing she’d won. She leaned in again to split the stack of papers up. “Here, I will take the bottom half so you can continue where you left off in the beginning of the list.”

“You don’t know that I’ve already started investigating,” Lucifer said, but it was nothing more than his game night protests as he searched for a loophole in the rules that allowed him to not actually lose. He was an extremely sore loser.

“Uh oh!” Rory left her castle-sized blanket fort to run over. “Fringe stopped, Daddy. Look.” She pointed back to the TV where the current episode had ended and the question of whether they wanted to continue watching had interrupted the end credits.

“That’s because the episode’s over,” Lucifer said.

“Fix it.”

Chloe answered, “Hey monkey, how about we get lunch first? Are you hungry?”

“I want more Fringe,” Rory said, glancing back to the paused TV.

“We can watch more Fringe, but let’s get food first, okay?”

It took a little more coaxing and challenging her to a race to the kitchen before Rory pulled her attention away from the television. But then she grinned and ran off down the hallway with Chloe while Lucifer yelled after them about falling. His list of names hovered in the back of Chloe’s mind all through lunch. She didn’t know which of them would ultimately find Rory’s mother, but if she found them first, that mother was getting such an ass chewing for giving the girl up. Chloe didn’t understand how anyone could look at Rory and decide she wasn’t worth fighting for. She’d been away from the girl for just a few hours and had still missed her desperately. How could Rory’s mother not be frantic after days apart? It was infuriating.

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

My Thoughts:

Yes, I do use the square brackets for notes to myself. :P I told y'all this was the first draft version!

So I went with Chloe’s POV originally for several reasons. First, I just kind of default to her POV? I tend to default to women characters in general in my fandoms (maybe because I’m a woman, maybe because I’m queer, maybe both). But also Chloe’s POV is a little more clear-headed and therefore easier to show the reader what’s going on. I do step out of her POV when she becomes super emotional like in Chapter 3 when she learned Lucifer is the Devil. (If a character is too emotional, it can be hard to portray their POV so I like to swing outside of them in those scenes.) But if Chloe’s present in a scene, she tends to be my default POV.

But there’s also a downside with being more clear-headed and not as emotionally invested in the plot (yet): sometimes it means you have less interesting things to say. Which is exactly the problem here. Chloe has nothing real to add in this scene.

Well, she has exactly one thing to add and that thing is the other reason I chose her POV initially: she missed Rory while she was at work and I desperately wanted to show her relief at getting to see her again. I’m more than a little obsessed with all the parental feelings in this story, and Chloe definitely has the stronger parental feelings in this moment since Lucifer is still in conflict over Rory being his daughter.

Except Lucifer’s conflict is exactly what we need to see at this point.

In addition to showing Chloe had missed Rory as if she was the girl’s mother (the dramatic irony, of course, being that she is the girl’s mother), I also wanted this scene to end with the decision to search for Rory’s birth mother. Which it does! Technically. But it doesn’t do it very well, and I always knew I’d have to smooth that out during editing. And while it wasn’t the primary focus here, I always want more Rory cuteness (the family domestics is kind of the whole point of this fic) and I wanted some glimpses into how Lucifer and Rory’s morning alone together went. This version of the scene covers both of those things, but again, not very well. And if I want to show how Lucifer and Rory’s morning went, then why wouldn’t I use Lucifer’s POV to show that more directly?

I realized pretty quickly when I went to edit this scene, that I should switch POVs. So go check out my second post over here to see what changed when I used Lucifer’s POV. Or if you’ve already read it because you’re reading “Can We Keep Her”, then just scroll down to the bottom and check out my thoughts on the changes.

#my meta #my fic #long post #Can We Keep Her meta #no really it's a looooong post #which Tumblr doesn't really like and the formatting SUCKS ASS #but I don't have a better alternative at the moment #(I maybe could've waited for a shorter scene to use as an example but lbr I don't really write short scenes)#(oops)#(the example scene is 1900 words btw and the final version is 2500)#(so not the /longest/ they could be but certainly on the long side for Tumblr)

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