Hii, its been long enough so I'll tell a bit about myself! I'll probably update this later with navigation but for now this is what I have
About me:
-she/her
-early 20s
-Black
Interests:
-Alien, which I am currently writing little fics for, so far only Alien Earth, but I'll be sure to go back and write for other characters at some point
-Progressive Rock like Pink Floyd, YES, and ELP, Hyperpop/Electronic like SOPHIE and Kraftwerk, 60s-90s rock, New Wave/ Synth, and more, just ask!
-My favorite movies/shows are Clockwork Orange, Some Like It Hot, The Secretary, Land Before Time, The Sopranos, X-Files, and more, just ask!
-I've played all the Bayonetta and Batman Arkham series, and I love Fnaf.
suburban women on september 15 1967 tuning in to star trek and seeing fuck-or-die mode spock getting in a sweaty man fight with captain kirk in amok time
Ray Bradbury’s short story “There Will Come Soft Rains” that was written in 1950 is set on the day of August 4th, 2026 (tomorrow)!! Now’s your chance to read it around the time it’s based in!
Audio: A recording of Leonard Nimoy reading it on Internet Archive.
And speaking of Sophia Tolstoy, her diaries are just so depressing.
“I am to gratify his pleasure and nurse his child, I am a piece of household furniture, I am a woman. I try to suppress all human feelings. When the machine is working properly it heats the milk, knits a blanket, makes little requests and bustles about trying not to think […].“
She wrote this when she was 19, one year into her marriage to Leo and as she was pregnant with the first of his 13 children.
A few years later, when she was 25 or so:
“I am so often alone with my thoughts that the need to write in my diary comes quite naturally … Now I am well again and not pregnant—it terrifies me how often I have been in that condition. He said that for him being young meant “I can achieve anything”. For me […] reason tells me that there is nothing I either want or can do beyond nursing, eating, drinking, sleeping, and loving and caring for my husband and babies, all of which I know is happiness of a kind, but why do I feel so woeful all the time, and weep as I did yesterday? I am writing this now with the pleasantly exciting sense that nobody will ever read it, so I can be quite frank with myself […].“
During her 12th pregnancy she wrote about taking scalding baths and jumping from high pieces of furniture to try and miscarry. And at one point while reading her husband’s diary (which he told her to read) she found the sentence “There is no such thing as love, only the physical need for intercourse and the practical need for a life companion.” In her own diary she wrote “They ebb and flow like waves, these times when I realise how lonely I am and want only to cry…”
A few years before her husband’s death, she published a cycle of prose poems titled “Groans”, under the pseudonym “A Tired Woman”.
“I have served a genius for almost forty years. Hundreds of times I have felt my intellectual energy stir within me and all sorts of desires - a longing for education, a love of music and the arts… And time and again I have crushed and smothered these longings… Everyone asks, “But why should a worthless woman like you need an intellectual or artistic life?” To this question I can only reply: “I don’t know, but eternally suppressing it to serve a genius is a great misfortune.”
Cant believe I missed it by 5 whole days but Happy 40th anniversary to literally The album ever of the 80s
This album captivated me like two years ago and it's crazy how much Sledgehammer, In Your Eyes, and Don't Give Up overshadowed the rest of the album, but still really impressive to fit 3 hits on one album.
Personally, I really think it's bangers from start to finish, especially Red Rain and We Do What We're Told.
Older!Reader that has a tramp-stamp and Kirsh and Kavalier get their own separate glimpses.
(I would say reader is in early-mid 40s. Gender neutral reader here still, don't let the pictures discourage you!)
Boy K
(Imagine this but another flourish on the left and on your lower back)
"So, tell me again why you've decided to grace me with your presence."
"Because," he grins, tossing a ball from hand to hand, sauntering, "it's my building and I like to see people squirm when I decide to," he hunches his shoulders in a theatrically evil motion, "drop in."
That really made you want to laugh at how stupid that was, humming with a playful smile as you turn around to head for the cabinets despite knowing that he's being charming because he wants something. And because you work for him
"Is that all?" you question, grimacing a bit from your knees when you squat down to the cabinets under the sink, pulling the doors open, looking for the extra cleaning brushes you knew you kept underneath
"No, not really," you hear from behind as you crawl forward a bit with a louder huff to get a better look in the dark. "Just need a little ant to entertain me for a minute or two."
There it was.
"Ahh," you smile as you get your confirmation as well as spotting your brushes, "tilting the farm, then?"
He chuckles, "It's what I'm-" when the riding up of your shirt reveals a dark shape right above your butt. When he tilts his body closer, he sees it, small and simple, a little star with flourishes on both sides, faded.
In tandem with his eyebrows his interest is raised, and something he else he can't define right away that sparks up in his brain
You're grabbing your brushes, ready to pull back when you hear him chuckle, airy before it turns deeper, "Party much, hon?"
Brushes in hand, you pivot on the balls of your feet, but you don't stand yet as you look at him. "What?"
He's sporting a very knowing smile as he practically circles you, "You don't see that kind of thing on the average person. I just didn't expect it from you. I also recall "no visible tattoos" being put in my hiring process."
Standing, you mirror his smirk, "I had my fair share of fun back then," you sigh wistfully, "about your age, too." Then you think to defend yourself a bit, "And wouldn't you agree that it isn't visible unless there's an odd circumstance?"
True
"Besides, can't help it, can I?" You start to tease, "I think this thing is as old as you are."
He stands there for a second, his brows up ever so slightly before his face breaks out into a grin, his adorably crooked teeth on display and a crinkle around his eyes to pair
Oh, he liked that
But, anyway, now," you gesture by holding up the brushes with a coy smile, "here I am."
His eyes do the quickest once-over of your body, and as you walk off, his eyes are locked on the spot where your shirt now hides your previously exposed tattoo, and he finds his tongue wedging against his top lip. "Yes," he confirms in a mutter and a tilt of the head, "yes, here you are."
His feet follow before he thinks about it, lingering behind you as you turn on the faucet
When you drizzle some soap onto to a brush and wet it to start scrubbing out the inside of a flask, Kavalier takes this as his chance to pry
"Were the thong strings out too? Low rise jeans?"
You snort, "Mandatory. The older crowd hated it, called it a whale tail."
Suddenly he's in your line of view, leaning against the counter on your side. "You ever still dress like that?"
"Hell no," you grimace as you glance at him while you rinse the flask, "I'm not young and thin anymore, I couldn't pull it off."
He inhales for a second, seemingly debating before he says, "Maybe just the thong, then?"
The only sound is the water running as you look at him, and his eyes are wide, almost expectant with the curve of his mouth. There's seconds of you being dumbfounded before you catch yourself. "What are you saying?"
He leans in closer, lowering his voice an octave, breathy sounding, "Just curious."
There's definitely a blush tracing along your face as you laugh, a nervous one. He laughs with you
You point a dripping bottle brush at him, not looking at him. You can't believe the words that are about to come out of your mouth
"As long as you pay me. I know you can afford it."
"You're already paid, hon. Let's do it."
Kirsh
The heat may not have been apparent to Kirsh's synthetic body, but it was growing more and more unbearable for you, causing you untuck your shirt in your flurry of tasks
Tasks that Kirsh had assigned you to do and then swiftly leaving the room only to check in twice in four hours by eerily lingering in the doorway when you weren't looking
Climbing up and down the ladder to organize and restock and reorganize items in the backrooms had left you very pink in the face with a sweaty forehead and back to pair.
You werent sure why they couldn't just get a working joe to do this instead of the human with vulnerable and unpredictable knees
Practically stomping down off the last ladder rung with a huff you gripped the side as you craned your head back, looking up at your work, making mental before and after comparisons
So far so good, but the heat was making you desperate, and after a quick look around to make sure you weren't in camera shot, you lifted the hem of your shirt to dab at your wet forehead, sighing loudly
"I'm curious," a voice made you jump, and as soon as your shoulders came back down you knew it was Kirsh.
Turning to see after quickly dropping your shirt, he continues, "are those markings traditional for humans?" Moving closer, hands behind his back he squints at you
"What do you mean?" You huff
He brings a hand up to point what looks like at you, and you awkwardly twist to see what he could possibly be referring to, eyes flicking up to him after a few seconds for some kind of clue
"Underneath the shirt."
Oh
"My tattoo?"
"Yes," he answers flatly like it's inconvenient to answer.
"Well," you start, turning to face him as you itch your inner eye, trying to think it over
"You don't have to answer," he suddenly clarifies
"No, no," you shake your head, "I don't mind, uh, not traditional, moreso trendy."
He doesn't say anything
"They were popular with the younger party crowd probably," you blow air through your lips, "god, almost twenty years ago."
You chuckle dryly at your own sick reminder, running your clammy hands over your face, "Jesus, I'm old." And you stand there for a while, thinking about days gone by in the quiet
"May I see it again?"
Your eyes flick to him, and you notice that his brows are raised, like he's curious. You're hesitant
"Again, you don't have to if it's something you don't want to do."
Couldn't hurt you think, and before you can talk yourself out of it, you're turning around and lifting your shirt again
When he speaks again, his voice is closer, "Trendy, not traditional?"
"Yeah," you sigh, "I don't think there's any traditional tattoo, honestly. I used to have a tongue piercing, but, that's long gone," you include with a wave of the hand
He hums, and then he asks another question. "Do you have more?"
You jolt when you feel the tips of his fingers ghost across your skin, and you don't want to feel a certain type of way about it, but you think you are
You also recall the star on your ankle that your sock hides, as well as the other you have just below your ass on the left side. A lipstick kiss
"Yeah?" you breathe, unsure of what else to say
"May I see them?"
You huff nervously, "Kirsh, I-"
"For research," he interrupts slowly, quietly. "You can tell me their history." His fingers slip across your skin again
"All you have to do is lie there."
Your heart was already pounding before but now it feels like you're gonna die before you speak
"Okay."
The light touch on your back turns to pressure.
"This way, then."
Sorry for this absolute DOGWATER this is my little work before I have to lock in for exams next week and then my freedom. I'm so over school I needed to do SOMETHING anyway enjoy
being a kid and hearing adults say stuff like "woah 2011 was 4 years ago haha" didn't really convey the fucking horror of a youtube video crossing my recommended labelled "9 years ago" and it's from 2017. that's not true. 9 years ago is 2010 or something. don't lie.
