#I am working on an absolutely massive project right now

[amanitacurses]

"Comin' for you next, Ganon!"

[plainclothesdisaster]

DPxDC Mechanical Engineer Danny

Danny caught the attention of Batman while studying at Gotham University for his alternative energy projects. He’s hired right out of college to work on the Watchtower.

He shows absolutely no tell of his abilities till there’s a dire situation- Flash’s electric discharge messes with one of his projects in progress and the whole base would have lost air pressure if he hadn’t done a quick fix using telekinesis and ice.

Of course Batman notices.

Batman assumes the worst- he suspects Danny’s a rogue of some kind, someone who has infiltrated the Justice League with an ulterior motive. But he can’t just fire Danny now- he’s the only one who knows how the new Watchtower energy source works. Plus, he’s not letting Danny go anywhere until he’s figured out his true motives.

Cue Batman subtly testing Danny- tossing things at him to trigger inhuman fast reflexes, having him lift too-heavy machinery, setting up convenient opportunities to steal or snoop or otherwise be up to no good. Danny does take advantage but only once, to use a computer terminal with unlocked clearance. He didn’t plant any bugs that Barman could find, and he otherwise kept up his powerless civilian act perfectly.

Still, Batman’s not satisfied. He brings an infrasonic sound emitter to Danny’s lab one day, and that, of all things, is what gets Danny to break.

“I know what you’re doing,” Danny admits with a sigh, finally. “If you’re really that suspicious of me, I can leave, but I kinda like my job so I’d prefer not to. The benefits are insane compared to what’s standard.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure. yeah. How about you turn off the freaking noise generator and we can talk?”

“Hm.” Batman obliges, and he takes the stool next to Danny at his gesture.

“Number one, I’m not a meta. Despite all the data and conclusions you’ve probably drawn otherwise. Number two, I’m on your side. I’m here to work on the base, that’s it. I follow your rules to the letter.”

“The-“

“The classified files I looked at? Yeah that was the one exception. You already know what I looked at, I’m sure, but maybe you haven’t figured out why. It goes back to point one- I may not be a meta, but I am something that organization, the GIW, cares about. I looked at your files on them to sus out your relations. Seeing as I don’t particularly love being the victim to twelve degrees of human rights violations if I can avoid it.”

“Hm.” The Ghost Intelligence Ward was one of many government agencies that the Justice League hadn’t worked closely with. But they also hadn’t been flagged for Justice League investigation. Danny’s comments made him doubt that call.

“Any other questions?”

“If you’re not a meta, what are you?”

“I’m an engineer. A pretty decent one. And I’d really, really like it to stay that way.”

Batman considers, and ultimately lets him stay. He likes Danny (everyone likes Danny), and it would be a massive pain in the ass to replace him. He really is a good engineer.

It’s only much later that his faith in Danny is repaid in spades.

Batman finds Danny on the Watchtower command bridge. Alarms are blaring, the station has been knocked out of orbit, out the window there’s shrapnel floating everywhere as a space battle rages around them.

On the station it’s chaos. Technicians run around, shouts from the med bay, sparks from the walls.

Batman and Danny stand at the main controls, watching the battle outside, stoic, unmoving.

Wonder Woman’s harried voice crackles through on coms: “We need backup.”

“There is no more backup.” Batman replies, while looking pointedly at Danny.

“What?”

Batman doesn’t move.

“What.”

“The impact from Darkseid’s initial attack should have sent this station on a terminal trajectory toward the planet.”

“Well. We aren’t currently plummeting to our deaths, so turns out it didn’t do that.”

“You did something.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You’re lying.”

“Maybe Superman nudged us back on course in all the chaos.”

“I’ve been watching the trackers. No one else with the capability has come near the station.”

“Can’t you just be grateful we got lucky?”

Sounds of peril screech over the coms. Danny’s face scrunches.

“Luck had nothing to do with it. As it is now, we are going to lose this fight.”

“Isn’t there anyone else you can call?”

“I’m asking you. You can help, can’t you?”

The glare-off lasts a long moment more before Danny breaks.

“Fuck. Fuckity fuck.” Danny runs his hands through his hair. “Shit. You don’t know what you’re asking.”

“I’m asking you to save this and countless other worlds from a genocide. I’m also asking you to save my friends.”

Danny looks at him, hard, weary, and with a kind of deep resolve that feels far too ancient to be on the face of a supposed twenty-something.

“Fine. Fine. Okay.” He steps back and transforms. If Batman is surprised when he shakes off his human appearance like an old coat, he doesn’t show it. But what’s undeniable is the being in Danny’s place has the unmistakable presence of power.

“No one else can know.” His voice echoes in a way that’s sonically impossible, both sounding closer and further away than he should be.

He pulls a gear-shaped medallion seemingly out of thin air and puts it over his head in one motion.

“If I get in trouble for this, I’m blaming you.”

He vanishes. Outside, the shape of the battle changes instantly. The stars seem to glow brighter as the arms of the galaxy flash with the colors of the aurora. Then it’s like the void of space itself comes alive. It moves the spaceships back like they’re toys, plucking them from one side of the field to the other. It finds Darkseid at the heart of the chaos and massive arms of nothingness and darkness wrap around him. He’s screaming as it swallows him whole.

His armies scatter. The battle turns. The JL deal with the stragglers, but the air of relief is palpable.

Danny reappears next to Batman, once again donning his grease-stained coveralls. Arms folded.

“Happy?”

It took all of five minutes. Less, probably. Batman tamps down a thousand questions.

“Thank you.”

“I’m gonna need two weeks off minimum.” Danny snaps. “One to deal with the bureaucratic nightmare you’ve just caused me, and another to recover from the headache.”

Batman blanks. “Granted.”

Danny sighs. “And I’m not fixing the station until I’m back. It won’t fall out of the sky as is. Make up whatever excuse you want.”

“Done.” He considers. “I would prefer to tell them the truth. That you saved us.”

Danny glares. “I’m not supposed to save you. I made a pact not to use my power to influence the mortal realm.”

“A pact with who?”

Danny rolls his eyes. “The embodiment of Time. The concept of Justice. Among others.” He smirks at Batman’s confusion.

“And what, exactly, does that make you?”

He stands, framed by the space window, haloed by the stars. “I’ll give you three guesses.”

Batman frowns.

“Look. I like you guys. I like working on your base. I like supporting the work you do. But you can not go factoring me in to any of your plans or contingencies. This was a one time thing.

“So to answer your question again: I’m an engineer.”

[wanders-in-wonderland]

Glocking Out

Friday night should mean a cozy night in with a TV show and a bowl of ice cream. But instead, here I am, working late in the office, trying to finish a project to deliver to my boss by Monday morning. There’s no one else in the office, and when I finally finish up nearing midnight, the entire corporate building is empty, lights long dimmed.

I drag myself out of the building, ready to get home and collapse into bed to sleep for the entire weekend. The click of my heels is the only sound that rings through the night as I exit the elevator into the parking garage and let out a tired sigh into the quiet air.

I click my car fob and open my trunk as I approach the car, tossing my purse into the back and digging around to look for a pair of slippers to change into. I’m absolutely too tired to make the drive home in heels and the idea of fuzzy slippers around my feet is the only thing keeping me sane right now.

While I’m still bent over, buried head-first in my trunk, I suddenly feel a presence behind me. Before I can react, I feel the cold, hard press of metal against my back and the ominous click of a gun’s safety coming off. I freeze in terror and my throat pushes out a pathetic whimper of fear.

I hear a deep laugh echo around me and a man’s voice, “Stay still, princess. I’d hate to paint the inside of your trunk with your blood.” A big, warm hand presses against my spine, pushing me even further into the trunk while the gun digs uncomfortably against me.

I let out a choked gasp, “What do you want? Take my purse! I have cash, take whatever you want, please don’t hurt me!” My voice is shaky and I can feel tremors of fear wrack my body.

He laughs again. “Oh, princess, I don’t want money. But I will be taking whatever I want from you,” he purrs, the innuendo clear in his voice. His hand leaves my back to run down my body and he grips my ass hard before landing a harsh spank against me. I whine out a plea, “No! Please! Please, just let me go!”

“No can do, princess. A pretty little thing like you, all alone, in the middle of the night with no one around. It’s like you’re beckoning to me,” he growls as his hand continues to knead my ass over the skirt I’m wearing. Tears are in my eyes now as I stare blankly into my trunk, my face pressed against the rough car trunk mat.

Moments later, he threads a hand through my hair and grips me hard, pulling me out of the trunk and onto my feet. He spins me around and for the first time, I get a good look at him.

He’s huge, in both size and height, his massive frame towering over me. Even without the gun, he could probably break me easily, and that thought sends more fear slithering down my spine. His eyes are filled with a sadistic gleam that makes me want to curl up and hide. A harsh yank from his hand in my hair makes me cry out in pain and he leads me to the passenger side of the car.

“Get in the car and don’t do anything stupid. I’d hate to have to kill you before we have any real fun,” he says menacingly. I slide into the car on shaky legs and he slams the door shut. He makes his way to the driver side and without another word, he peels out of the parking garage.

A little while later, he pulls the car off the main road onto a tiny trail that I’d never even noticed before. Several minutes of random turns and paths in the pitch black forest that I would never be able to remember or identify bring us to a tiny little cabin. It would be quaint if it weren’t inhabited by the psychopath holding me at gunpoint.

He drags me out of the car, the gun never leaving my side and we step into the cabin. He herds me into the bedroom and the door clicks shut behind us. The room is awash in a soft yellow light and decorated in soft fall tones that, in any other circumstance, would be incredibly romantic.

He smiles with a sparkle in his terrifyingly sadistic eyes and a shiver runs down my spine. “Strip for me,” he says as he steps back to sit at the edge of the bed, gun still leveled at me.

I shake my head desperately, “No, please! Please, anything but that, please!”

He laughs at me, “Come on, pretty princess, I’m not a patient man. Either you strip for me or it gets ugly.”

Tears well up in my eyes and I blink them back. I glance towards the door, I’m closer to it than he is, maybe if I can surprise him, I can get out of the room before he gets a chance to stop me.

He sees my line of thinking and chuckles again. “You might outrun me but you can’t outrun a bullet, princess.”

His words land like a punch to my stomach and I look back at him with defeat. My shaky hands move to the buttons of my blouse as I comply with his initial request. He smiles.

I pull off my top and slide it off my shoulders before going to unzip my skirt and stand before him in my bra, panties, and stockings.

“Bra off, leave the rest on,” he says, his voice deep with desire. “Come here,” he commands, gesturing towards the floor between his legs with the gun.

I unclasp the bra and let it drop to the floor, where I fix my gaze. I pad towards him and stand in front of him for a moment before I lower myself down to my knees, my form fitting into his spread legs.

“Fuck, you look so good like this, princess. Such a good girl,” his deep voice sends shivers down my spine. I keep my gaze on the floor, not wanting to make eye contact with him. He doesn’t like that.

I feel the cold metal of the gun slide beneath my chin and I gasp as he raises my head with his gun. My wide eyes meet his and I see the satisfaction in his gaze as it locks onto mine. He leaves the gun against me as he jerks his chin downwards. “Take my cock out, princess.”

I glance down and see the outline of his hardness pressing against his pants. He looks huge. He sucks his teeth at me, “Come on, don’t keep me waiting now.”

My fingers shake as I undo his belt and the fastening on his pants before I reach in and pull his hard cock out. I let out a quiet whine when I see it. He is huge, tip already leaking precum and an angry shade of red that looks so mean. I shouldn’t be turned on by my attacker’s cock but I absentmindedly lick my lips and I catch the leer on his face that makes my thighs clench.

“You know what to do, princess,” he purrs, tangling his free hand into my hair. I give in and lean down to run my tongue gently along the vein that runs through his cock. He tastes divine, the clean smell of his skin combined with the warmth and weight of his cock in my mouth making my brain go fuzzy. I hear him groan above me, “That’s it, suck my cock, princess.”

I give him a few more kitten licks before I wrap my lips fully around the crown of his cock and suck. “Fuck,” his groan is guttural and his grip tightens on my hair. I moan softly around his cock and I feel him twitch in my mouth. I breathe in through my nose as I swallow more of his cock down my throat.

“Fuck, that’s it, good girl. Take my cock down your throat,” he groans and his fingers dig harshly into my scalp. I slowly work my way back up his cock and set a smooth rhythm, bobbing my head up and down and wrapping my hand around what doesn’t fit into my mouth. There’s a pleasant haze that surrounds me right now, his cock in my mouth and his fingers in my hair. I squirm a little on my knees, my pussy clenching as warmth settles into my core.

Suddenly, he yanks me off his cock without warning. I gasp and look up at him. “I want you to ride me,” he says, smirking at me and gesturing toward the bed with his gun. The gun that I’d almost forgotten about. Seeing it now sends another shock of fear through my body, pushing away some of the arousal from earlier.

He lays back onto the bed, sprawled out like a king, hard cock jutting out from between his legs. I absentmindedly clench my thighs together and I know he noticed because he laughs. “Come on, princess. I know you want to.”

I stand and slide my panties off before slipping onto the bed, slinging a leg over him to get situated. He stays still, watching me with a predatory look in his eye, gun now retrained on me. “That’s it, princess,” he purrs as I settle myself over him.

“Is your pretty pussy wet for me?” He asks. I want to lie and say no but it’s no use, I’m so wet I’m dripping all over him. I whimper and nod and he laughs again. “Better put that pussy to use then, come on, ride me, princess.”

I brace my hands against his chest and lower myself onto his cock. The delicious stretch of him filling me makes me whine and I dig my fingers into his chest. He moans at the feeling of my wet heat surrounding him and his hips come up to meet mine, forcing the last bit of his cock into me.

He feels so fucking good inside of me and every single cell of my body wants more. I let out a low moan as my hips start to move, every single movement making his cock rub up against my g-spot. “That’s it, ride my cock, princess.”

I let out a broken moan as my hips keep up their movements. My back arches and I let my eyes flutter closed as I lose myself in the sensations. Suddenly, I feel cold, hard metal brush against my clit and my eyes fly open with a cry.

I look down and my blood freezes when I see him, running the tip of the gun against my clit. He grins up at him, a maniacal gleam in his eyes. “Don’t stop now, princess. You’re doing so well, I��m gonna help you and play with this little clitty.”

I whimper as he pushes the gun harder against my sensitive, swollen nub, the friction making delicious shivers run up and down my spine.

“Come on, princess. You’re going to cum all over my cock while I rub your clit with my gun,” he says, each pass of the gun over my clit pushing me closer and closer to an orgasm.

The fear and pleasure mix into a dark combination that forces my body higher and higher. I can feel the cold metal of the gun warming against the burning heat of my cunt and every nerve in my body seems to be coiled tight as a spring. My hips are jerkily moving on top of him as I chase my own release.

Suddenly, he moves underneath me and slams him cock deeper into me while holding me down. I shatter with a wail as my pussy clenches around him. I hear his curse as his release quickly follows, his hips never stopping their relentless assault on me and the gun never moving off my clit as he fucks me through my orgasm.

Eventually, he pulls the gun away and I collapse down onto his chest, boneless and limp. I feel his fingers thread through my hair gently and his arm comes up to wrap around my body, keeping me pressed against his chest.

“Such a good girl for me,” he murmurs into my hair as he presses soft kisses into the crown of my head. I make a soft noise back at him and I hear him laugh softly and affectionately.

I stay in his arms a little longer before I raise my head to look at him. “Thank you, honey,” I say before pressing a sweet kiss onto his chest.

He hugs me tighter, “I’m glad you enjoyed it. I will say, you were in the office for so long, I was soooo bored waiting for you.”

I giggle at him, “If I’d known you were waiting, I would’ve finished faster.” He huffs and rolls his eyes, “Well I think I did a pretty good job helping you “glock” out.” He waggles his eyebrows at me and I choke out a laugh.

“Shut up and sleep.”

—

pls appreciate the title because i thought of it and just had to write something to fit it teehee

[tojipie]

I'm a huge fan of your work and I would love to see a dilf!toji fan fiction where you accidentally walk in on him changing and it goes a bit further while megumi's home🙏🙏🙏

part 1 here

shaking crying and throwing up as the kids say

warnings: dilf!toji x reader, nsfw, almost getting caught, age gap

────────────────────────

“think that’s it for tonight.” megumi mumbles, turning the newly painted mound of clay to the side to gauge your shared work.

it goes without saying that you and your closest friend had spent the weeks leading up to the deadline planning, but not actually doing your final sculpting project, leading to an equally desperate and passive aggressive all-nighter.

you both of you were absolutely caked in paint, but the satisfaction of finally being done was well worth it. you stand up for the first time in over 4 hours, hissing at they way your back protests.

your feet tingle as blood rushes down to your legs, the aches in your body becoming more apartment.

“god, what is it— like 11?” you ask, massaging your neck with the back of your hand.

megumi grabs his phone to look at the time, scratching off a smear of dried pain with a scoff.

“it’s 1 am.” he laughs, tucking the device into his pocket with a sigh. “you ubering home or do you want my dad to take you?”

you perk up at the second option, gathering yourself before you respond.

“i mean yeah i feel like that’d be a lot safer.” you say, only half lying. “is he still up?” you knew he was up, in fact you knew if you hadn’t been practically right outside his bedroom for the past 4 hours he’d be texting you right now.

your sculpting partner motions to the kitchen door with a nod of his head, wordlessly gathering his materials up. “go check, i’m going to bed.”

you laugh, gathering your things and padding out into the hall.

“nite gumi.” you tell him, hoping it wasn’t too late in the night for the both of you to get a decent nights sleep.

———

you secretly hope toji is waiting for you as you fix your makeup in the mirror, leaning down to meticulously washing the paint from your hands and arms in an attempt to look presentable.

megumi hadn’t noticed it was you in his father’s bed the last time you snuck over, taking toji’s sly suggestion to “drive his little friend home” as an ill intended joke.

he opted to drive himself to the concert instead, accepting the ridiculous $100 venue parking fee in exchange for his peace of mind.

you, on the other hand, had gotten the opportunity to wail your lungs out as loud as you needed once the house was empty, going round-for-round with the massive wall of muscle that was your best friend’s dad.

and now, here you were in his bathroom, washing up in the sink as quickly as you could before feeding yourself to the lion.

you slip into the dark hallway as quietly as you can manage, cringing at the stale creak of the bathroom door.

the house is barely lit with the dim light from the kitchen gone. you figure megumi had shut it off before going to bed, thinking you and toji had already left.

you feel your way down the corridor of rooms, silently opening the door to your destination before stopping cold in your tracks.

“you should knock ya’know.” a deep voice crones.

you yelp as you’re pulled into his bedroom, the sound muffled by a solid hand over your mouth.

“shhhhh.” toji chuckles, caging you against the door. the older man leans down to mouth at your neck, feeling you up as you catch your breath.

“you have a real volume problem, pretty girl.” he teases.

you laugh, cradling his head as it settles in the curve of your neck. his shirt is half off already, bunched around his shoulders. you must’ve caught him changing.

“what, were you waiting on me?”

“men have needs don’t they?” he says quietly, leaning in to kiss you.

thick hands settle around the curve of your waist just under your breasts and pull you backwards, leading you towards the bed.

“was—fuck—gonna text you.” toji whispers between kisses, palming your chest underneath your shirt. the older man pulls you into his lap from where he sits on the edge of the mattress, rucking your shirt above your head to mouth at the top of your breasts.

“yeah? why didn’t you?”

“knew you’d come find me.”

your cheeks burn at his admission. he was right, as embarrassing as it was you both knew how often you found yourself under him on nights like these.

and whether or not you’d begun hanging out at megumi’s just to see his dad was a question you didn’t want to address, and one that toji already knew the answer to.

you say nothing, opting to palm the man below you through his boxers while he finally undresses his top half. toned abs clench tight as you squeeze his cock through the fabric, guided only by the small sliver of moonlight bleeding from his curtains.

“harder.” he groans, bucking into your hand.

“miss me?”

“always miss you.” toji mumbles, motioning for you to stand so he can strip you of your bottoms.

you’re pulled on top of him as soon as your shorts hit the floor, leaning in to kiss him again. the older man licks into your mouth with fervor, toying with the waistline of your thin panties.

toji breaks the kiss, snapping the elastic against your hip. you flinch at the sharp sting, whimpering into his neck as he grips your ass

“you wear these for me?” he asks.

you nod, letting him slip them off. he gives them a once over, smiling as he reaches to throw them onto the night stand.

“keeping em.” he laughs, pulling himself free from the confines of his bottoms.

he’s throbbing, steadily leaking onto his own thigh with every passing second. you lean down to accept him into your mouth, pausing when he pulls you back up to him.

“just get on top of me.” he begs, grabbing hold of the backs of your thighs and reclining into the pillows.

“need it that bad?” you ask, genuinely curious. you watch as he grabs hold of his cock, lining it up with ease—practically muscle memory.

“wouldn’t need it this bad—oh fuck— if you hadn’t been busy the entire night.” he groans, complaint interrupted by the feeling of you sinking down onto him.

“could fuck me when the sun’s out, you wouldn’t have to wait all day that way.” you suggest, only half serious.

“the only thing stopping me from doing that is work, pretty girl.” toji mumbles. you gasp as he twitches inside you, sinking down all the way to watch what little composure he still has crumble.

your knees protest as you bounce on the older man’s cock, body still sore from the workload you’d dealt with earlier.

“you could’ve just—fuck— came out and said hi.” you add, noticing the way the scar on his lip contorts when he smiles.

“can’t really walk around with a hard-on.” he admits with a sleazy grin, taking one of your breasts into his mouths for good measure.

your shared moans grow louder with every thrust, the sound of skin-on-skin becoming unmistakable.

“fuck is that noise?” a sleepy voice yells from the hallway.

you freeze. pulling away from toji to gauge his reaction.

“fuck, get underneath.” he chuckles, practically pulling you off of his cock with how easily he manhandles you, making space for you to crawl into the sheets.

you’re struck with what feels like another heart attack as a knock at the door pierces the air.

“do you have another girl over?” megumi scoffs pacing behind the doorway.

“you sleepwalking or something?” toji lies, clearly not considering the consequences of getting caught.

you feel him pull the sheets over your head with a soft laugh. warm hands rubbing over your sides through the thin fabric, a sweet attempt at calming you down.

“i’m not stupid.” his son replies, kicking the foot of the door for good measure. “did you even drive my friend home?”

“she ubered, kid.” toji lies again, groping your breast over the thin sheet. you yelp at the sudden contact, earning a teasing “shhhh” from the man above you.

“fucking knew you brought someone over.” megumi sighs, trudging down the hallway with vague threats of “you’re paying for my dorm room next year.” and “can’t keep it down.”

you emerge from the covers, arms snaking around toji’s shoulders with a sigh of relief.

“what’d i tell you about that volume problem?” he laughs, lowering you onto his still hard cock with a breathy groan.

“fuck, did you get wetter or somethin?” he asks, clearly in disbelief.

“course not!” you mouth, stifling a whimper as he begins to thrust.

“i know honey.” he teases, biting the curve of your shoulder to stifle a groan. “i’m just fuckin’ with you.”

[spiderman2-99]

[03.25.2098 - I.]

"What the hell do you want? This better be important, or I swear to God-"

"Oh, calm your tits, it's just me," LYLA's voice rings out, nonplussed in the face of Miguel's more-caffeine-and-sleep-deprivation-than-usual induced snappishness.

Despite the lightheartedness of her words, she sounds tired. How an AI can be tired is beyond Miguel, and he's the man who programmed her. But whatever. The massive project they've been poring over the last few weeks has taken a clear toll.

Not like Miguel could be calm at this state-- couple days sleep-deprived with the eye bags and pallor to show for it, eating irregularly (worse than usual), hair an unstyled wreck, his hands and arms weary and shaking. The picture of a man who'd clearly holed himself up in his office and done nothing but work himself to shit.

But as far as he cares, he has bigger problems than sleep and food. He’s been obsessed with this little passion project for weeks. And if it works... it'll be worth it. It'll all be worth it.

"I just wired more of your calls to Jessica like you asked me to," the AI continues, "Nothing important came up."

“Thanks.” His voice is hoarse, his hands twitch, and his eyes are bloodshot from staring at screens almost nonstop. But he refuses to stop. He'll be damned if he gives up now.

Miguel sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, and tries to focus on the project on his screen. But it's hard. So hard. His mind feels sluggish and slow; overheated and abused worse than his overworked computers.

“Why can't I get the rigging right? Ugh. Lyls. How many of my files have you used? I need more.”

"Hush. I'm trying to find better footage of her. Sweet Jesus, I forgot how many videos you've taken of her," she trails off, scouring the clogged folders. It's like ever since Miguel inserted himself into another life, he'd been determined to catalogue every single last moment out of some desperate hope that if he'd just catalogued it all, it'd be enough proof to convince whatever powers that be he belonged.

"If this isn't a thousand percent perfect, you'll lose your shit, and I am not letting it be my fault."

At her words, Miguel’s gaze goes dark, and his jaw clenches.

He can already feel the familiar tightness in his chest; the guilt and anger towards himself rising up, as if he’s been slapped.

But he shoves it down, down, down, until the sting abates. He’s too tired to have yet another guilt-trip.

After a long moment, he asks, “you don’t think this was a mistake, do you?”

Miguel looks over his shoulder at LYLA's holo, floating in mid-air surrounded by her own screens. He doesn't know what he's asking for; not really. Permission? Absolution? Salvation?

The silence that follows is unnerving.

“Your life. Your time. I didn’t enable or discourage it," she responds.

Her form disappears, but he knows she’s still on. Various holographic screens pop up, all of old footage of Gabriella that LYLA is painstakingly poring through.

The screens, the memories, the reminders of a happy life he didn't deserve attached all make his chest tight, clawing through his ribcage and squeezing at the organ beating inside, but that's not the only thing that sets him on edge.

It’s the fact that LYLA isn’t discouraging this that’s so concerning. The idea that she’s just... letting him do this, with no real opinion.

His jaw clenches and he looks back at his own screen, resuming typing. If his arms tremble, he ignores that along with everything else.

“You usually tell me if you think I’m insane.” He can’t help but tack it on, his voice bitter and accusing. She certainly did when he first shat out the idea of inserting himself, and look where him bulldozing ahead anyways got him.

“Oh, you are,” she says, her voice coming from all around this time; the way it always does when she’s ‘gone into’ the main computer. “But I think we all knew that.”

[the-overthinktank]

in what way is it a doomed investment? I've seen a lot of artist lose their jobs to it already, it has had a greater impact than nft's and right now they're going on to make ai video's. I'm sure the bubble will break eventually but, yea share your thoughts.

Here's an article I recommend reading.

We're at the peak of a tech hype cycle. People are absolutely getting hurt and laid off from billions of dollars being poured into the latest money hole that the developers double pinkie prommy will actually work the way they're advertising... at some later date; but I suspect the main staying power for this tech is going to be spam/advertisement generation and disinformation. If you want to provide a quality chat service or make art worth looking at, human intervention is necessary even if you use generative AI as a starting point. While none of this is... good, in the same way NFTs and useless dotcom sites were not good, I am skeptical of a lot of the panic around generative AI replacing humans long term because I think it lends legitimacy to the people claiming it can competently do that.

I also think a lot of the panic around tumblr specifically is kind of redundant. I don't appreciate the site fucking condoning it, but all major social media sites have already been getting fed into these things. There is (currently) no real way to stop these companies from throwing whatever they want off of google into the machine and claiming they totally only use non-copyrighted goods, because they're drawing from billions of images and source texts and there's (currently) no easy way to check besides combing through those massive databases.

Besides, if you publicly post art online, there's already dozens of other websites scraping income off of your work. The social media you use hosts ads, and your art and presence on social media is what draws in new ad viewers and revenue. And there's aggregator sites that draw from and repost stuff from other social media sites, and they host ads. Listacle "news" sites put their top ten favorite web finds on a page covered in ads. Web searches that show your art in a pile of other images host ads. If your art is popular, the number of sites scraping income off of your work grows proportionately. This is my personal opinion, but I'd say AI is a new hat on a commons-exploitation problem that's as almost as old as the internet.

[theninjamouse]

Now that I've officially cut ties, I can share some of the nonsense I've been dealing with regarding the camp I spent the last 3 years working with. This is gonna be long, bear with me.

I'm a freelance media producer. The last 3 years I've worked at this camp as the all around media guy, pictures, video, all that for roughly 6 weeks during the summer. From the beginning, the communication at this place was horrendous. I never knew where things were happening, I was never informed if the kids suddenly changed location, I was forced to walk around with all my gear and in that new York summer heat was unbearable.

But I learned the workings. And the last 2 years I was in charge of all media. So at the very least, I controlled what I deemed to be important. And I have an insanely high work ethic. One of the things I brought to the table was not only dashing around getting pictures of their massive sports day event, I filmed and put together a video of the day to present by the winner announcement that same night. This meant I only had about 3 hours to edit a 3-4 minute video, one that was GOOD. And it was good! Always! Because I am proud of my work and strive to keep that quality. All the time, people gushed over how good my pictures were.

But at the same time, I always ALWAYS felt like an outsider. Because I was still kept in the dark about most things. I had just learned enough to guess what was going on, and usually, I was right.

This last summer, it felt like I was finally starting to be fully acknowledged and welcomed. And even better! I was offered a year round position doing their social media. For a freelancer, that offer is gold. It wouldn't be enough to live on, but it would be more than enough to help me through the slower months.

So I said, cool let's make a contract, a plan. Let's get this going

"Later," I was told.

Later, I said, "Are we ready now?"

"Oh for sure, we'll talk soon."

The last 2 weeks of camp, I tried every single day to talk about the plan. The director was never in his office. But when I requested a meeting, he would always say it wasn't needed, I could come by anytime.

But every time I did, he was never there.

Camp ended. It was a welcome break. So I took that break, then reached out.

Again, brushed off. Later, I was told.

I trusted that it would happen. After all, I have the pictures. I have the knowhow. I was promised. These people value me. Need me.

Brushing off turned to flat-out ghosting. And all the while, I watched their social media page update every other day with MY work, work that while good, was unpolished. After all, if I have to upload at minimum 200 pictures a day during camp, of course I'm not going to edit each one. They don't need it for the parents to view.

But the socials? A little adjustment to the highlights, bumping up contrast would have turned them into absolute gold. Whoever was doing my job didn't edit a single image. Each post was another slap to the face

In the world of freelance, especially media, it takes time to secure work. Talks have to happen, contracts made and hours put in. If an opportunity for a project slips by, there is no guarantee that another will be around the corner.

I was stupid. I believed that this position with these people I've worked with for 3 years would come through. So I didn't do my usual mad scramble to find any work I could to last me the fall and winter months. Because, well, I had found one, right? With that, added to my real estate shoots, the odd dance comp here and there until the rush in January, I would be just fine.

Instead. It's been one dance comp. No real estate shoots since September. And not a single word from camp. And by the time I realized that I had been simply replaced, it was too late to find any of the more solid falltime gigs.

I'm tired. I'm so tired of working so hard and proving time and time again that I produce good work only to have the rug violently yanked from under my feet. I've been doing food delivery just to survive. And that sucks. This isn't what I want to do. I want to create, I want to tell stories with my words and my pictures and my videos.

But the world has shown time and time again that it doesn't care about one little photographer. Why pay a professional when phones are 'just as good'. Why display even a little curtesy and tell this person we promised a job to that we went with someone else because we don't want to pay the professional when we can just have any old Joe post the pictures said professional did?

I told them I was done. I'm not returning to camp next year. I can't do it anymore. And it freaking hurts.

Even this other massive project I have in the works has been heartbreak. Because they have taken two months to even begin to talk about actually getting started. And instead of being paid up front, like most grants are, I have been told that the expectation is a reimbursement system. That won't be accepted until March 2025. I've begged to at the very least work on a monthly invoice system. But I can't submit anything until the training of the system happens.

It was supposed to happen yesterday. And I have been left waiting with no answers since last week.

So. That's where I'm at. At the very least I will be flying home next week and I can get some hours in doing aid work for my brothers. But that is also the main source of work for my mom and my sibling. The hours and funding of the aid program are limited. I can't take it away from them, not when it's my own stupid fault for hoping that things would actually work out for me this time.

I can't do a normal 9-5. I have tried. It nearly killed me. I have conditions that make work like that nearly impossible to bear.

I'm so tired. I'll keep going, because I have to.

But I really, really don't want to anymore

[musicalmoritz]

TikTok shipping discourse is giving me a headache

So I’ve been super excited abt the recent revival of the Gravity Falls fandom because that show was a large part of my childhood. My sister and I watched it as it was coming out, I still vividly remember watching the first episode with her when it aired. It was one of my first big fandoms so I have a lot of fond memories with it (and some not-so-fond, my sister and I would always joke abt how we were just like the Pines twins so certain areas of the internet were…well, awkward to say the least)

Anyways super happy that the fandom is back but why am I seeing so much beef between Dipcifica and Mabcifica shippers??? I don’t remember there being this much discourse before, most people shipped Bill//Dip so that was the biggest rival to Dipcifica I recall seeing at the time, besides Wen//Dip. Oh and also. The other one. But usually ppl were pretty chill abt Mabcifica bcuz it went along well with the mega popular mlm pairing so like,,,even if ppl didn’t care abt them, they were content with that as a way to keep Pacifica out of the picture. There were the typical homophobes ofc but I don’t remember ppl going out of their way to hate on Mabcifica back when I was really into the fandom

This might come as a shock, but I was always Team Dipcifica. It was one of those ships I absolutely fell in love with, I read fics of them on FanFiction.Net and watched all the amvs and cosplays. I liked the idea of Dipper being the guy Pacifica could sort of run away with after escaping her toxic family because I loved her character sm and wanted good things for her. And, well, I related to Dipper a lot so there might have been some subconscious projecting going on there

So yeah, big time Dipcifica girlie but as we all know I’m also a massive multishipper and Femslash Enthusiast™️. It took me awhile to come around to Mabcifica bcuz as I was watching the show I was working through a lot of internalized homophobia, but nowadays I ship them nearly equally to Dipcifica. They are both interesting ships in their own rights with their own appeals. Pacifica was always a character in Mabel’s storylines so people shipping them romantically makes sense to me. I actually look at Mabcifica content more frequently than Dipcifica content now bcuz my main thing is sapphic ships. But if you were to ask me to pick one, I would still probably say Dipcifica

Alright now onto the current discourse. I keep seeing posts on TikTok of Dipcifica shippers explaining why they hate Mabcifica, or bashing the ship in their own edits. I also see a constant flood of comments on Mabcifica posts of ppl hating on the ship and saying Dipcifica is better. My dudes, what happened to “ship and let ship”?? Seeing all of this at the same time I’m seeing a flood of posts saying that ships don’t have to be canon or even make sense, and that ppl should let fandoms have fun, is crazy. And yes I’m gonna pull this card, it’s a little odd for people to specifically be targeting the most popular wlw ship in the fandom. “It’s toxic” mf you ship BILL//FORD

Hate whatever ships you want!! No one is forcing you to like Mabcifica. If they are then block them. But omg I thought we were trying to leave needless ship hate in the past. The ships can coexist, believe me I’m overjoyed that Dipcifica has so many canon implications but ppl are still well within their right to ship Mabcifica

I don’t even care that much abt Bill//Ford (love it and fully support it, have supported it since middle school, but I’m more of a Fidd//author girlie) but I’m glad that’s the fandom’s main focus rn, I couldn’t take it if the ONLY thing the shippers were yapping abt was which Pines sibling Pacifica should hold hands with. Another life saved by toxic yaoi

Mabcifica shippers get behind me

[danganronpasurvivoraskblog]

any updates you want to give us mod? relating to DR Survivor or irl

it’s fine if you can’t

//TW: Suicide and Depression topics.

//I know you guys are missing me. Good news is I might be back to making causal posts soon.

//Im still looking for work even after all this time, and my mental health took an absolutely MASSIVE hit. I don’t mean to frighten anyone, but I think with everything going on in the world right now with myself and what’s happening around me, I’m entering the suicidal depression area.

//Today’s also the anniversary that my Nan died, so that doesn’t help.

//I know that’s not something I should say so casually, but don’t worry. I have people around me who won’t let me do anything stupid, and I don’t feel like abandoning everyone just yet.

//I sincerely hope that everyone else struggling right now feels the same way. The last thing I want is people giving up on life, despite everything.

//I am afraid to talk about this stuff because I don’t want people to panic over me, but I’ve always valued transparency with you guys, and that hasn’t changed.

//So the fact is right now, I still haven’t managed to find work somehow, but despite that, largely the reason I’m not posting is because I’m trying to stay off social media as much as possible. Tumblr is really the only posting site I use anymore, so beyond scrolling though random artwork, I’m just not interacting with anyone.

//But I’m alive. And I will remain alive until I’m finally ready for Phase 3. Which hopefully shouldn’t be too long away now.

//Paper-scrap and I are still working on sprites and assets, and I have other projects I’m getting on with elsewhere. But I should hopefully be able to post sprite progress soon, because as slow as it is, stuff has been made.

//Im also going to be writing that Mikan review I promised that you guys voted for.

//When will that come out? Eh, who knows. But it will.

//I can’t keep killing myself slowly over having so many things to do. It’s just that life really sucks hard right now, for everyone.

//Its easy to say keep on keeping on, but even that’s not simple anymore.

[tavyliasin]

Writer Interview Tag

I was tagged by @redroomroaving and once I'd finished feeling about a hundred emotions from reading I managed to follow it up.

I definitely got a little personal as well, and I know I’m prone to rambling so I’ll pop the questions and answers below the cut. A mild CW for discussion of physical pain and some very very light mentions of mental health. Tagging @morb-untamed @sweetmage @dmbakura @hydropyro @ineadhyn @nicocoer @wixed to do this if you would like to, but there is absolutely no pressure to talk about yourselves or in any personal detail. And anyone else reading this who I missed tagging (I forget names and tags so often, forgive me) please feel free to use me as your tag-in and let me know so I can read your answers too.

When did you start writing?

I have no idea, truly. Stories and reading were a big part of my life since before I could read, and as soon as I could read independently I devoured books and imagined stories in quiet moments. There are a few things I’ve worked on under another name, another identity, but no massive published works. A couple of unfinished SFW fanfics, and some larger original projects that remain on hiatus. As for writing smut and spice and taking fanfic more seriously? That all started in September 2023, and has just grown from there. I was hesitant at first, and you’ll see that in my early author notes, but from there I feel I’ve truly grown in my style and skill, as well as my creativity and ability to delve into character details and kink alike.

Are there different themes or genres you enjoy reading than what you write?

Since writing more, I’ve become a terrible reader. I can’t really focus on it for long because my brain goes into ADHD rebellion and says “no, no, we don’t want to read story we want to create story” which is endlessly frustrating when I have stacks of unread books and a ton of fics earmarked by very talented authors. I will say there is a particular thing many may notice in my works – when writing, I very rarely refer to genitalia in direct terms. It’s just a personal preference when writing, you won’t find the word “cock” in any of my works, but contrary to how it might sound I have absolutely no issue with reading it in the works of others. I am an odd creature, I freely admit that. So…yes, there are themes, pairings, styles, and vocabulary features that I enjoy reading but do not write myself.

Is there a writer you want to emulate or get compared to often?

I don’t hear comparisons really, and I don’t aim to emulate anyone either, though I will admit I try to keep just a few little moments of humour or sly winks to the audience in similar ways to Terry Pratchett and Douglas Adams. Just those quick lines or cutaways that for a moment join reader and author in a little shared joke.

Can you tell me a bit about your writing space?

I can only really write comfortably in one place, at my PC. I have 3 screens set up around my seat, which is actually the end seat of a reclining sofa, so I have a heated pad behind my back to reduce pain. I have a mini fridge with drinks on the table beside me with the side screen that has Discord on it at all times, my larger screen (the TV) sometimes has character images for reference or notes or just Spotify up so I can swap songs and playlists quickly. The last screen is in front of me on a table that goes over my footrest, and my keyboard is on a lap desk over my legs. 

I’ll almost always have my headphones on, and a small fan when it gets too warm. Sometimes I do end up a little chaotic with snacks in reach and meds also on the table so I don’t have to have anyone fetch them for me.

What's your most effective way to muster up a muse?

It can’t be controlled. The muse is as fickle as it is demanding, when it’s there it wants everything all at once, and when it’s gone?... It leaves a devastating emptiness that honestly I struggle with at times. Even right now, tonight I planned to write, but when I finally got the free time and got set up…nothing feels appealing to try. So I’m doing this instead, and not forcing it. 

There are things I try at times, and things I recommend, too. First? Before you start writing, tend to your basic needs. Do you need a drink? Food? Relevant medication? A nap? A talk with a friend? A bit of fresh air or physical movement? If one of these needs hasn’t been met, it’ll likely soon become an obstacle to your writing. I like to have a drink and snack ready and with me when I start so it’s there as and when I might need it, and I do rely on caffeine like a stereotypically unmedicated ADHD author…

Second, set the mood. It can help for some people to have this routine, to get their playlist going, to be in the right place, to have the things that set a whole zone and bubble. For a while, I had a specific hat I would wear when writing for another project. I could tell myself “I am putting the hat on now, so I will focus and do this thing” and in some way it trained me to write more. I know others who have done things like always listening to a specific genre of music to write, so now when they hear that genre they get the urge to write. Third is take a shower. Nothing gives me more ideas than a good shower, and I even bought a waterproof notepad and pencil set so I can make those notes whilst in there and not fret about forgetting an idea. Other than that, I recommend going back to the thing that inspired you to write. Play the game or watch scenes with the characters you want to write about, find their voices and mindsets. You can also close your eyes and imagine the scene like a play – put the characters on your stage at the start of the scene and watch what they do in the scenario. Let them show you how they react. Some people also do well to write out a plan or bulletpoints, but I find personally this can bite me in the ass because the process of writing can often stray from my original plan. Which isn’t a bad thing, but it can feel frustrating that I didn’t use ideas that I was initially passionate about.

Are there any recurring themes in your writing? Do they surprise you?

Ah here it is. Whilst I could go quite simply with the kinks that I keep utilising that don’t surprise me in the slightest – I know well that I enjoy writing a spicy shifting of power balance between strong-minded characters, as well as a lot of BDSM kink – there are deeper parts to this. Identity. That’s a theme that keeps rearing its head beneath a lot of works, and you’ll find it most noticeable in how I write both Haarlep and He Who Was, but it tends to worm its way into other things too. It…did not surprise me, though, because it’s something I have struggled with over this past year within myself.

I created this name, this identity, as a way to be comfortable in sharing kink fiction and spicy works without it being easily identifiable under my actual name. I still don’t like to be too personal, or share my face or real name under this one, because I would rather keep a few close friends and family out of sight of my fandom thirsting. I’m certain a lot of us are the same – it isn’t really about shame but knowing that I, and they, would likely not be comfortable discussing this level of subject matter. I’ve relaxed a little over time, and have no doubt that a few may have worked out who I am and simply kept it quiet which I appreciate endlessly, just as I appreciate that those who do know both of my identities have never shared that information or made it public. I’m happy to meet people in person, just not to have my self online shared with my other self, as I’m sure you can understand. Anyway, I digress…

Something that the keen-eyed accomplice might have noticed in me is a shift in my speech. I used a few more mannerisms and speech patterns, particularly terms of endearment, under this name when I began. It was a way to separate the self, as well as to engage with a different audience in a different way. I explained it to the few who knew both early on as “same person, different font”, because I don’t change who I am just a few parts of how I speak or interact…but I’ve dropped a lot of the endearments now. Partly because there were more than a few who expressed they were uncomfortable with this in conversation – which I fully respect and understand – so it was easier to just drop them entirely rather than double checking or switching vocabulary between people and servers. But it has also fallen away a little as I have become more comfortable with both sides of myself, allowing them to integrate again more, and I owe a good amount of that to being able to meet fandom friends in person and find that they didn’t turn away from knowing all of me and instead have become even better friends. 

So…yes, the theme of names and identity keeps popping up. The power of names, the importance of identity, how one can hold on to one’s sense of self when it feels as if it is wavering, or when a role must be played. It’s little wonder I was so strongly drawn to so many favourites. Another recurring theme, of course, is pain. Physical. Whilst this is often in the form of kink and pain play, I’ve written a few pieces where it has been a point that is not about the sexual and positive side. I am in pain. 24/7. Without end. It will not get better. It has been this way for over 10 years. The level of the pain is “I cannot walk more than 10 metres before it is too much”, and “I have to drastically reduce and monitor my physical activity to prevent pain getting worse”, so I feel very intimately familiar with pain. You’ll find it in my writing as visceral and detailed descriptions of the sensations, because I’ve felt every one of them and might just be feeling them in that moment as I write. 

I’m going to keep trying to write short comfort pieces, too. Because as I once wrote as a dialogue line for Halsin, when Tav asked how he always seemed to know the right thing to say:  

“Sometimes we say the things we need to hear the most.” 

What is your reason for writing?

Every reason ever. There’s…not a lot I can do in this body. So many hopes and dreams and even careers I’ve had to leave behind, through the struggles of mental and physical health. Whilst the former is far better, the latter is the issue… But writing is something I can do with little physical effort. If I’m in pain, I can take my medication and absorb into fiction. 

I started writing smut as a challenge, but also as a way to tell a story I was becoming rather attached to. My main longfic was one born from playing the game, and wondering about telling the story between the lines, giving reason to the choice the player character was making under my instruction. Since then, it has grown to be so much more.

I’d love to sit here and tell you “I only write for myself, I don’t need external validation” but that…would be a half-truth at best. I write because I love sharing these stories, I love that they can reach out and touch hearts and minds in ways I might never know, but I adore when someone does send back their echo across the vast void between us to say “I enjoyed this” or “this story made me feel something”. That’s…it’s everything to know I have some value. Which sounds a lot like I’m pinning my self-worth on feedback or kudos, and whilst I can’t deny that’s a hard habit to break, I do know it isn’t everything. I just want it to still be something. To know I can do more than just…exist. 

Truly if you were to ask me what I feel the purpose is to my entire life, it would be “to leave each corner of the world I touch a little brighter and better than it was before I got there”, and whilst I know that’s impossible to do all the time I still want to try. And writing? Sharing stories? That’s leaving a positive mark, giving someone enjoyment in their day – yes, even sexually, with the kinky and sexy writing. That is still a positive to someone’s day, an indulgence, something that lifts them and certainly nothing to be ashamed of.

If I can do more than that with emotional writing, with comfort pieces, with cathartic moments and with stories that have more meaning behind the words…all the better.

Is there any specific comment or type of comment you find particularly motivating?

The best are the ones that pull out favourite lines or moments, but honestly every single comment means the world to me. An incoherent keysmash, a simple “I loved this”, even those are such a boost particularly on a hard day. 

Readers, please know how much it helps. Even a click on the kudos as an anonymous guest, it’s…it lets us know we aren’t just shouting into the void. It tells us those Hits are not people just opening up the fic then closing it because they hated it. It means the whole world to know we’ve done something that you enjoyed, in whatever way that was.

I’ll also say that some of the ones that have meant the most and have stuck with me are comments on the more personal pieces, like with The Love of Loviatar – the Abdirak x Reader fic where I play a little with worlds colliding to allow a reader character who experiences chronic pain (remarkably similar to my own, don’t think about that too hard) to have that moment with Abdirak who validates and appreciates them exactly how they are. Gentle care mixed with BDSM, trading the bad pain for the good pain, the pain that is welcome and has purpose, a little fantasy of enjoying what the body can do rather than being trapped by what it cannot… Every time I get a comment there, I damn near cry. Or just openly cry. They mean so much. I know how much Abdirak can mean to us, and I am so glad I can reach you all. 

How do you want to be thought about by your readers?

I…well… To be thought of at all is an honour. I’m shocked any time I encounter someone who has read my works, despite logically knowing I have a good number of readers from the numbers alone. I just…don’t look at those numbers often, it’s not good for me. 

I’d like readers to know I care about them. Every last one. To know I would love to tell all the stories they want to read, and that I fully welcome their messages, comments, and even friendship when we share social spaces. There’s something special about the connections we can make in unexpected places, and I’m just delighted to be here sharing stories with you all. 

I don’t need high respect, endless adoration, or some kind of pedestal. I’m a human, unfortunately – squishy and fallible and flawed and suffering and there is still beauty and worth to me even when I don’t see it myself. Just saying that last part louder for everyone else who has loud negative thoughts of themselves. It’s ok for you to see my flaws, and it’s ok for us all to have love for one another despite those flaws. Love in the platonic sense, of course – there are levels of connections we make with people from a distant echo of a brief exchange of words to the direct warmth of a friendship. It’s as important to not underestimate the value as it is important to not overestimate our closeness to people we don’t truly know.

What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?

I am beginning to believe it is the wild ideas I have for crackship pairings and turning them into something serious and meaningful. I love taking an unlikely coupling then finding what makes them actually genuinely work. 

I’m also getting quite confident in sensual writing as well as kink, in the particular style that I have for it. I know well that it isn’t to everyone’s tastes, but those who do enjoy my style and method will always have something in the buffet of fic to fill their plate.

I really hope to transfer this to my original work when I get it finished, as I feel like just maybe I might have a niche of style that isn’t as often seen in published works. Then again, I’m not exactly devouring raunchy original fiction so perhaps I’m entirely mistaken and would get ripped to shreds by critics of the genre. Who knows? But I will try to get published when it’s done. I hope a few of you might even read it someday.

When you write, are you influenced by what others might enjoy reading, or do you write purely for yourself, or a mix of both?

Ahh definitely both. I have written characters and pairings I’m not personally into that much, though sometimes (Yurgir) I have found myself enjoying the character after writing with them. It’s a fun little quirk, I start writing something thinking “am I into this?” and realise later “oops new kink acquired” or “ahh ok I see why people like [character] so much now.” 

I do really love writing requests or rare pairings/characters that readers haven’t seen before or are excited to see more of. I hope to keep doing a mix of that and the characters/pairings that I love most myself. If there’s something you’d like to see, I’m more than happy to take suggestions – there are a few kinks, characters, and tropes that I have a hard “nope” line on (not kink shaming, just personal comfort levels – I love that you can enjoy those things elsewhere I am just not the chef to cook that dish for you) but otherwise I love wild ideas and writing something that someone explicitly wants to read~

How do you feel about your own writing?

I really struggle with this one, but I think many of us do. I go from feeling confident that people enjoy what I’ve written and that I have this skill to bring worlds and characters to life with mere words on a page, yet other times? I will freely admit some works of mine take longer because I just hit this point where I just cannot tell if it’s any good. I know intellectually that I have the same style, tropes, stories, kinks that people like and enjoy, but as I’m sat there staring at it I’m questioning everything because I’m just not feeling it. That seems pretty natural, I think, that we are the worst critics of our own works because we’ve read them so many times or thought far too hard about every word and line… But I tend to solve this with an external view. Beta Readers have saved works from near extinction by checking it over, telling me what does need fixing, and reminding me that actually the rest of it is just fine I’m simply overthinking it all because my mind is struggling with something else like fatigue or pain or just a low kind of day.

So… Overall, writing has been a new life for me. Particularly in this last year, trying something new – expanding into NSFW fanfic has found me countless new connections, friends, experiences I wouldn’t have had otherwise and a real feeling of accomplishment and validation that just wasn’t happening in WIPs that were taking too long and getting no feedback at all. 

Writing isn’t just something I do, it’s inextricably a part of who I am, and in its own way it continues to shape exactly what “who I am” can mean.

And I am grateful to every single one of you who has shared this journey with me so far. I cannot wait to see how far we can go together~

[solarbird]

What they’re burying with the push to remove Biden

I wrote this yesterday, before they pushed Biden out. All this is still true.

Here’s what the major/legacy press are burying with wall-to-wall coverage of the massive billionaire-fuelled push to remove Biden:

The sheer, raw, overt racism and white supremacy of the Republican base. Not just mass booing a non-white speaker at the convention, but condemning their own VP nominee for not having a White wife. They’ll shut up about the latter, but we really, really shouldn’t.

That this includes outright calls to remove 15 to 20 million people in an ethnic purge. That’s not implied; that’s pre-printed official signs at the convention.

It will require a mass militarisation; Trump has been readying his supporters for horrific images for the last few months at his rallies. Popehat discusses the inevitable result: “We’re going to be an occupied nation. Detention of citizens and lawful residents is inevitable and in fact clearly intended. Large-scale violence against immigrants, suspected immigrants, and bystanders is inevitable and clearly intended.“

Citizenship won’t protect you; they intend to strip citizenship from naturalised citizens, too. They already had a task for on how to do it, back in 2018; this time, they will implement, and the Republican Supreme Court will let them.

Christian Nationalist Speaker of the House Mike Johnson backs this ethnic purge, by the way. When people say it’s “just Trump being Trump” point them at all this reality.

White nationalist speakers at the convention? Check! Core MAGAts calling Vice-President Harris a “coloured” “DEI hire”? Check!

The near-unity of his campaign with Project 2025, and all it entails – including not just his announced plans to bring its contributors to his next administration but six members of his previous cabinet, and his own chosen VP, JD Vance.

Medium has a whole page up on how to track Project 2025 contributors and involvement in the previous and a possible future Trump administration.

Did I mention that JD Vance supports Russia in its imperial invasion of Ukraine? Russian domestic propagandaists are downright giddy with his nomination.

And that he considers rape an “inconvenience” and that victims should be forced to carry and deliver their rapists’ babies?

And that police should be able to monitor medical records to search for possible abortions?

And that he praised Alex Jones and InfoWars as a “truth teller” – the same Alex Jones who directed hate and violence against parents of slaughtered children for years, until finally brought down in court?

The complete and open embrace of violence by him and his base – going back to 2016. The insurrection of 2020 was only a midpoint, not a culmination. From the national to the political to the personal, the GOP is a party of violence. So much so, that even a lot of old-line Republicans are talking about it openly.

Too bad that doesn’t include the legacy press. Too bad that doesn’t include the New York Times, or the Washington Post, or CNN, or so many others.

But it can include you.

That’s what’s needed right now. You, doing the job of that press, making sure everybody knows the real stakes of what’s going on.

Yes, there is some real support from Democrats for removing Biden. It wouldn’t be getting anywhere without the major donor and press frenzy, but some of it’s real. And I absolutely will back whoever comes out of this nonsense, as must we all.

No matter how mad we may and may not be about it. Am I clear on that? No matter how mad.

Because this Republican nightmare is what the press aren’t covering -it’s not even all of it, just some important highlights – all while instead going wall-to-wall 24-by-seven on this nomination fiasco.

Keep plugging away, team. It’s up to us to make up that gap.

And always remember – we win this, if we do the work. We win this, if we fight.

106 days remain.

[ask-codeearasure]

STOP STEALING OTHER PEOPLE'S WORKS YOU COWARDS (and other disorganized ramblings)

Yeah, I'm starting this off aggressively, big whoop.

Hi.

The point is right there in the title. Yeah, I'm looking you in the eyes and telling you right the hell now, I want you, yes you, the one with the massive galaxy brain who thinks that you can make a better Dreamtale or Underswap, or whatever the fuck, to listen to me. Walk with me to this pier please. This fandom has a harassment problem, everyone and their grandmother's crusty white little dog knows that, but there is also a massive theft problem as well and half the time I see it's born out of hatred for creators dubbed "bad" for whatever reason. (I am not debating whether these reasons are justified or not, I know it varies on a case-by-case basis)

"But Ouija, why shouldn't I harrass that person and just credit the AU to the fandom?"

Because it's a genuinely shitty thing to do. It's literal theft. Unless the creator blatantly says their creation belongs to someone else now, what you're doing is theft and there is no good defense for that. Yes, even if the creator is an asshole. Yes, even if the creator isn't active in the fandom anymore. Plus, if you sell the impression that it is OKAY in this fandom to take things that aren't yours, things you DID NOT CREATE, you are going to teach others that that behavior is perfectly acceptable, and along the way, discourage other creators from sharing their work. You will actively participate in what makes this fandom look so monstrous to outside audiences. Congratulations, you have become the asshat you didn't have the awareness or foresight to think you would become. I hope you have enough sense to not want that outcome.

Stop that. Do something else, you have plenty of options here. Creating your own shit is the one I highly recommend.

Sometimes the best things are written out of spite and instead of pouring your energy into harassing some random middleschooler for drawing Rose Quartz just a little too thin for your liking -- fuck you by the way -- do better.

Let me give you an example.

I hate the fandom's spin-offs of Dreamtale and there are very few exceptions to this statement.

I said it.

I fucking hate them. Not gonna specify which ones, just know I absolutely despise most of them. I find that next to none of them have any real passion or love put into them, no effort or respect to the source material whatsoever. The vast majority of them were created to specifically target Joku, and there was no genuine drive in that project outside of that one thing, which is malicious intent. Congratulations, you have submitted yourself to uhealthily parasocial behavior. This is unfortunately a theme I see in quite a few fandom remakes of other AUs as well. You don't like the creator, therefore, you assume you can do "better" despite knowing jack shit about what they actually created. (I am not defending Joku by the way. I'm saying this behavior reflects badly on whoever does it and has done it within the past eight years.)

They're boring, and if not boring, absolutely horrific. A lot of the time, they're used to romanticize shit like incest, abuse, and other inherently harmful things that should NEVER be presented in a favorable light. This is NOT me saying it's a bad thing to want to make your own versions of AUs and put your own spins on them, that is not what I am saying at all, and I literally did the same fucking thing several times over. Just bear with me here, I am begging you.

I made my own variation of Dreamtale using a few concepts I liked and ran in the complete opposite directions of both the original version -- which is actually fascinating when I learned about it thanks to Sarco -- and the fandom's trashy as hell boring as shit versions of it that makes watching paint dry seem like a more entertaining spectacle. I did this not out of hate for Joku, someone I don't fucking know (nor should I personally care about), but out of fascination for the Dreamtales I did see and picked and chose what ideas I liked, then added a lot more ideas from other inspirations. This is not a new concept, just about everyone does this.

What I am saying is that instead of talking shit with no supporting evidence and doing your best to humiliate someone you don't like on the internet (which in this fandom are people you don't even FUCKING KNOW, nor have 90% of you been present for the actual issues in action, if there were any), apply that energy to your own projects. That is arguably the more productive and enjoyable thing to do.

Hell, Palworld was made to spite Nintendo for being boring pieces of corporate shit, and that piece of work turned out to be pretty fucking good. (Note that spite in this context is used as a creative drive, not malice)

American McGee's Alice was made using the concept of Alice's Adventures in Wonderland out of literal LOVE for the original story.

Ever After High was made out of the ORIGINAL FAIRY TALE STORIES that Disney twisted into being more kid friendly to various successful extents.

A lot of the AUs Sarco and I tore apart and rebuilt take small aspects from the originals and tweak them just enough that it makes a wave of difference, and we later expanded them to have MASSIVE differences. This isn't to flex or put others down. I am just sick and tired of seeing a bunch of people online (mostly people who left this fandom) saying "there's nothing good in the fandom anymore" and it makes me want to grab my giant ass Edgar Allen Poe collection and beat them over the head with it. ...Figuratively, I stress that part. I don't wanna go to jail. I'm frustrated, I know that's obvious. What I really want to do is encourage more creativity than the constant rehashing of the same shit repeatedly, and perhaps make it abundantly clear that shitty behavior is not something that should drive ANY community. I mean I'm not the boss of you, by all means create whatever you want, it would just be nice to see more variety than I do today, y'know? Give me more weird shit like Gastale and GZtale did, something that makes it stand out and has room for so much more character exploration and fascinating concepts. Hell, I would LOVE to see more OCs too! There should always be room for more of those. But perhaps you're already doing all that, and I just haven't seen it yet. I'm still re-learning how to navigate this fandom and all it has to offer, after several years of inactivity as a mere observer, and now as a creator.

If you want me to expand on all of this and also help with giving you all some concepts and even an example just ask. I'll happily type a mountain for you to help you all with expanding your creativity. -- Ouija

[coyoteprince]

I am really, really going Through It right now, but... in the best way possible? Like, really good things? It's just a lot to juggle at once so I'm absolutely wore out from a massive growth spurt

I deserve to be joyous about this so:

-New house! All our own! We're even moving during October (date was pushed back due to philly market), very spiritually important time for me

-Getting married next Fall once things calm down, finally, after being engaged for a few years

-Came to terms with Widderwood being an important purpose in my life, an art that feeds my soul- even if the result remains small, all this work isn't a waste, because the process enriches my life and brings me joy. The many years of dedication I've had for it is a sign that it's the right choice for me to continue following, and am super looking forward to the years of doing the actual page layouts. I've been setting realistic expectations to maintain my happiness with production, am working it into my new schedule, and I get to ink the pages at my antique writing desk in the sunroom as I look out at our back garden once we move... waow

-Learning a ton of important things about myself- my fears, roots of problems and behaviors thanks to trauma and ego that I didn't notice. I'm being kinder to myself, less judgemental of others, and letting go of other's projections rather than continuing to internalize them. I know what I am, how to be empathetic and accept my missteps, but also what isn't worth my time and energy.

-Learning how to adjust my desire for perfection in myself to much more healthy & reasonable level, and being more willing to delegate

-Rebuilding my business internally from the ground up for success, seeking continuous education for business & science, and after years of struggling and testing, FINALLY figuring out a work-life method that works for my messed up desires-varience autism brain. Balance!

-Similarly, figuring out how to balance cooking for two autistic people who have greatly different cravings & stims

-Realizing what a hard working, loyal, and loving person I am with an unrivaled, firey dedication to change and self improvement. Capricorn to an eerie degree.

Overall I feel like I'm in the transitional period between continuing to be poisoned by the aftermath of prolonged abuse and illness, and finding peace while blossoming far beyond what happened to me. Something I've strived for, but wasn't sure I'd ever have. In a way, it's obtaining independence and finding out who I really am as a person, unclouded by other's words and fearful what-ifs.

20 something years of being locked away. About 8 more years of new experiences, perspectives, professional help, love, and grueling work to dismantle things in myself. I guess this is what real healing and responsibility looks like- at least in my case. I'll never stop growing, but I am at a pivotal point of change.

What I've experience is important to me because it set the projectile for my life. I want to be somewhat open because I want others to be aware of what autistic children often experience and how it affects them long term... but I also know I have more to me and don't have to be haunted anymore. Turning an unpleasant experience into a tool I can control is a lovely reward and I can now whole heartedly say: I love being alive.

[shadowsong26fic]

📒

All right, cool, an excuse to ramble a bit about The Other Battlestar XD

i swear i am really working on it and it will be posted Someday...

This being the one where Baltar ends up on Pegasus instead of Galactica after the attack. Which is...basically the plot. Nice and easy to summarize, lol. The fic, as currently planned, covers the six months before the two battlestars reconnect (and through the end of Resurrection Ship) but with things skewed just a little bit. Obviously.

And there's a few fun things to work with:

Building the people that I'm adding to the Pegasus crew. Including a Four, because I kind of love the Fours and I want to. (And also he can do some important plotty things later). And also a Marine officer who grew up with Baltar on Aerilon, because why not throw in some character/backstory shenanigans while I'm here.

So while obviously things were skewed, I am trying to keep this closer to an In Spite Of A Nail AU on the Galactica side of things? So, filling in the gap Baltar leaves with two OCs, one to do the science and one to do the politics.

I have a whole list in my notes covering everything up through Pegasus-the-episode, grouping episodes under "I Absolutely need to rewrite this at least in part (e.g., Litmus, Colonial Day)"; "I don't Need to but I Could/Should/Want to (e.g., 33, Tigh Me Up Tigh Me Down)"; and "frak it, I'm just gonna handwave it. (e.g., Hand of God)"

Figuring out the little details I didn't even think of as I go along--such as why Helo stays behind in the miniseries, what kind of role the guy filling in for Baltar's politics storylines (Kimble) is going to play during the Kobol arc, etc. (this is probably part of why it's taking so long to actually start putting out, lol. plus figuring out how much time I want to spend introducing OCs/doing other Setup stuff in the miniseries section...)

Basically, what I have right now on the Galactica side is mostly a bunch of notes about the stuff that I absolutely need to change/cover, figuring out how to get the two people splitting Baltar's canon role into their respective positions, trying not to get distracted by how the election would play out since that is Out Of Scope For This Project but then again if I ever do decide to push past my current plans, then I need to put some effort into figuring out how Zarek and Kimble play off each other before we get there so......yeah.

(Plus working out how Cavil and Shelly decide to approach the science-storyline replacement)

And then on the Pegasus side, I do have a general outline of what I need/want to get done, and Razor gave me some helpful timeline/structure markers, but given how I want certain things to line up, I've got a fairly wide timeline space where I don't really have many guideposts for what could/should go on.

(Also I figured out a while ago that Baltar probably has a brevet commission as an officer because Cain is not going to have any civilians on her ship/doesn't want any ambiguity in terms of authority/chain of command/etc. and it is the funniest fucking thing to me)

It also probably doesn't help that I write out of order, so I have a couple of very key scenes written that I'm pleased with....but I absolutely cannot share because they are Massive Spoilers, lol.

But...okay, there's this scene I posted here a couple months ago (featuring Daphne Reed, Senior Medical Officer on Pegasus) just after Pegasus stumbles across the civilian ships Cain intends to strip for parts/personnel.

And then I also have a few random snippets of dialogue, like this one that I'm not sure exactly where it'll fit in--now that I'm thinking about it, it might make sense to move it to later, where I have that big chunk of white space to fill in...

After more than two decades, the accent fit him like a second skin; he could maintain it drunk, half-asleep, or in a haze of post-coital bliss. Letting it drop was…odd. Uncomfortable. Strange and familiar all at once. “I didn’t forget anything,” he said, feeling the rough consonants of his childhood scrape across his throat. “I just moved on with my life.”

...so, yeah! There was a disorganized ramble about this massive passion project that is taking a million years and will probably be like. 200k words before it's done XD

Send me a book!

[callinskiiscalling88]

unreliable narrorator Y/n doing a school project on the Thorn General or whatever they called him

The Amazing Biography of The Valley's Loyal General (With pictures!!) Written by Y/N!

[!!REQUESTS OPEN!! Characters: {Y/N}(Written first person), Grim(Briefly), Mozus Trein, Lilia Vanrouge, Malleus Draconia, Gargoyle, Ortho Shroud, Idia Shroud, Azul Ashengrotto, Jade Leech(Briefly) Word Count:1,342 Warnings/Spoilers: ooc-ness (since the narrator is *unreliable*), A joke about emo stereotypes (Not all emos follow the stereotypes and I don't mean any harm by it. Shoutout to all my emos reading this) Also somehow no spoilers Extra: Y/N stands for Your Name, E/C stands for eye color

It was a gloomy morning in Homeroom, my classmates sluggish, the desks on fire, Grim hungry, demons rising from portals, my air pods dead, oh it was absolutely dreadful! I was about to die!

However...Trein-Sensei's words sparked life in my dull {E/C} eyes. A massive homework assignment!! Now I hate homework, especially big projects, but this one was amazing! A biography on any historical figure from the Valley Of Thorns War back in the day. He wrote down the list of people available on the board, but I already knew who I wanted. The mysterious Right General of Briar Valley (Pretend it's sparkly I lost my glitter pen) Not the Queens, not the Left General, not the legendary Man of Iron (or was it steel?) The Right General! He was so intriguing. How was he so known yet such an enigma? I was going to find out. But I had competition. Lilia also wanted to do his project on the General. I couldn't let him snag this opportunity from me. I played it civil when I first heard of his plans. I humbly asked to take the General for my essay, but he refused! I am an amazing charmer, and I tried working my magic, but he just wouldn't budge! So I had no other choice....I challenged him to A DUEL!! (DUNDUNDUN!!) We met at the courtyard in the afternoon. I came ready to fight. I wouldn't let this weirdo beat me. (Before you come at me, he literally picks his nose, THAT'S WEIRD!!) I had my sword and my legendary gear which I got from my Great Grandfather. He said I was destined for something big, and this was it! Lilia had his own gear he must have gotten from his housewarden or something, but it couldn't top mine. Everyone came out to watch our duel. We both unsheathed our blades and charged at each other. The crowd cheered my name (I'm a famous warrior of course it's expected)! We dueled fought with all our might, but...he had defeated me! I laid on the ground, beaten and bruised. I looked up at my opponent, who roared laughing. It lasted for what felt like eternity. (It was only like a few seconds but for dramatic effect Sensei!!) "This means The General is mine." He eventually spoke. I glared up at him. How could I lose to an old man? (No offense I know you're old too) One who's...Emo? (No offense to emos!!) He must've had his teen angst and rock music powers stored up to trash me. Bested by someone who wears 5 pounds of eyeshadow everyday...blech. I didn't speak... I couldn't... I was embarrassed in front of the whole school.... He laughed again.... No! I couldn't let this twink beat me!! (Don't google what twink means). I kicked him in his balls and rained victorious! He begged for mercy, and I gave it to him. (I can make any man beg, especially the stupid kind)

So, the Right General Of Briar Valley was mine!! And I already knew where I could get my first bit of information...A source no stupid nose picker had... Malleus Draconia! (Or as I like to call him, Tsunotaoru [Hornton]) (Okay yes now I notice Lilia literally is his bestiepoo (or something.) But still!! For dramatic effect!!) According to my math he must've met the General at least once in his life. He's the heir to the thrown throne after all. The General is still alive both had the time to interact. 18 years to! (I think Tsunibuni [Horntonwornton](pronounce it with o) is that age) So it was perfect!! I set up an interview in the library. He was willing to answer my questions.

He answered all of them!! It was perfect!! I told you Tsunibuni [Horntonwornton] would be of use!! Though it did take some persuasion... "Where'd you hide the body?" I queried. "I'm not telling you that." He protested. "Are you sure? What if I.....Hurt your precious gargoyles" I said as I picked up a massive gargoyle and held my legendary sword to it's throat. It looked at Mallypoo with tears in it's eyes. "Y-you wouldn't..." He stuttered. "A-ANYTHING BUT THAT!!" (I told you I can make any man beg) "Oh I would." I smirked and brought the dagger closer. "Poor little gargoy won't make it out of this alive." "NO! FINE, I'LL TELL YOU ANYTHING YOU WANT TO KNOW!! BUT PLEASE, ANYTHING BUT HURTING MY PRECIOUS POOKIEWOOKIEBEAR!! MY SWEETHEART!! THE LOVE OF MY LIFE!!" Of course, he didn't have the answer to everything, so I did have to hit the books. I hit them with a stick. It wasn't effective. Don't know why. Maybe I did it wrong? Or did I have to use something other than a stick? Oh well... My last option... GOOGLE!! But I was running short on time and the Wi-Fi was down...so I had to contact a good ol pal of mine. The first real Android...

Ortho Shroud.

I called Ortho up and raced out the door. He answered right away but there was one problem... He was busy getting Idia out of bed. He was sad about some sort of gambling game. So I made my lil broski a deal. I'd wake his brother up and he'd let me use his search engine. So I ran to Ignyhyde!! Once I got there he was waiting outside for me. He quickly thanked me and took me to Idia's room. (It was so messy, and it smelled like unwashed shut in, it was disgusting) But I was determined to help him out!

I tried everything! Shaking him, screaming, promising him ice cream, nothing! He was a stubborn fire boy. So, I had one option left... Water. So, I really didn't think this through, but I guess his fire hair goes out so.... I MADE HIM BALD

That was not what I wanted to do! I swear! He was mortified! I know I'd be too if I lost all my hair... I didn't know what to do! I panicked!! But luckily, I figured out what to do with the help of Ortho. However...It involved Idia leaving his room... Which was hard to do. So, I did the same thing to Idia as I did Malleus. "Come with us or-... Hatsune Miku gets it!" "NO! ANYTNING BUT HATSUNE MIKU!" It was a piece of cake.

One hoodie later and we rushed to the one place where all our problems could be solved. Mostro Lounge. Azul's known to grant people wishes. Once we got inside Jade led us to a table, but we had to order drinks before Azul would see us. Of course we did, they have an awesome Mostro Lounge x Mystery Shack drink. Idia said they needed a ship name. I don't know what he meant, no boats were involved. After getting our drinks eventually we were allowed to see Azul. Ortho reassured his brother as we entered the octopus's office. Now I know what you're thinking... He's a sketchy man and it'll be hard to get his hair back for a fair price. So, how'd we get out of this without anemones on our head? Well, I don't know. I had to finish writing this paper before tomorrow and I didn't have time to sit and do business deals. Therefore, I left them. (Don't judge me!! This was a big assignment!) So how did I get the information I needed? Well... I read the books. That's a way better method then hitting them. Learned that the hard way...And hours later I had all the information I needed to write the essay! The end

"{Y/N}.... The assignment was a 5 paragraph essay on a historical figure. That's not what this is." Trein said as he slid the paper back over to me. "WHAT?! BUT THIS IS QUALITY CONTENT! IT'S ENTERTAINING!" I shouted back. "Half of this stuff didn't even happen." "Well, dramatic effects!!" "Redo this." "Hmph... Fine."

WOW, WILD RIDE!! YOU MADE IT TOO THE END THO!! I LOVE THIS Y/N CREATURE I MIGHT MAKE AN OC OUT OF THEM ONE DAY!! That's for the future tho rn I gotta add tags and post this. Comments appreciated My requests are open Thanks for reading Byebye!!

[heretherebedork]

Not to dwell on the fanservice issues since I also cannot engage with that part of BL for similar reasons, but I am truly concerned that the industry still doesn't have a way for brand pairs to end without causing massive harm to the actors, both personally and professionally. Sometimes I think we've made massive strides in fanservice, but then I see all the massive brand pairs currently in existence and how companies have not figured out how to let these actors move beyond them. I'll try to avoid using specific names, but there are some HUGE brands at GMMTV right now that one day might want to branch beyond BL . And we have seen how the breakup of a certain GMMTV pair caused fan devastation, harassment of a new actor, and frankly something that isn't talked about enough - actors now have to contend with a loss in job stability and probably income. Sure, their personal fans and casual viewers (me) won't care - but I am not paying money to go to their fan meetings or brand events or their concerts, and those pair fans won't either. And companies seem to just be sticking their head in the sand and hoping they can recruit the next big thing before a pillar explodes.

Even in a less controversial moment, it was just announced that a pair is ending as one needs a health break. And, thank god he's getting one. But it's also insane that their careers are going to have to undergo fundamental changes and potentially job losses (aside from dealing with angry and heartbroken fans, of which I've seen many) because they might have new onscreen partners.

I can only think of a handful of examples (I'm specifically thinking Max and Tul but there are others I'm sure) where actors have been mostly able to end their specific brand partnership (or move to other projects) without imploding the BL universe. But in those cases, I never get the impression it's because the company has a well thought out safety plan that they've discussed with the actors to minimize the impact on their careers and move them in a new direction. It seems like the lucky few have great working relationships with their co-stars and are basically able to leverage either their personal friendship or stellar working relationship to put the brand pair out to pasture with very gentle hands.

There's other issues about fanservice that really grinds my gears, but in light of the fact I believe some pairs will be ending soon, this has really made me extra angry. It feels like company negligence is going to stab some of these actors in the back when they feel like it's time to fly the nest. And fans are enabling their poor behavior.

This is all a very valid worry and one that I definitely share. Fan's response to actor pairs breaking is extreme and the ones who are really dating are even worse. I think of MewGulf every single time and the vitriolic response that people had to them and it's just... so scary, honestly.

I still see people on the some of these shorts and posts lamenting an actor pair that did one show together and never planned on doing another and people expressing how heartbreaking it is that they're not still together and just... yeah.

And having no plan for ending these pairings and their careers after does absolutely trap these actors in a portion of their career until or unless they're willing to give it all up in order to move on to something new. Which is not how it should be! Fanservice is meant to be fun and compliment to the shows, a fiction for the viewers that they enjoy, not the end all be all of an actor's career.

And there are just... there are so many actors that, right now, if they announced that they weren't dating... they would be destroyed. Utterly. Completely and totally and people would be rending their clothing and screaming about true love and it just scares me.

Fanservice has a place but I think there has to a pull back on them.

I, admittedly, don't know much about pairs that have moved apart in the longterm but I've seen people still mad about short term ones and making up longform fictional excuses for them not being able to work together but still being in love and it's just... it's wild. It's scary. They are actors! Acting! I promise!

I don't trust anything until or unless they're not working together anymore. They have to not be working on any shows together before I'll believe anything because look at what the shipping gets them. The dedicated fans, the hugely defensive fanbase, people so loyal that they will look for any sign they're in love and buy every single fanmeeting ticket, music event ticket or piece of merch based on their relationship.

Truly wild.