#almost no mean critical comments in general

[goorgeousz]

so i have a request or idea but i'm sorry to say i didn't think about her in the shower, i thought about her while i was crying lmao🫠🥲

a few days ago i read a book where the protagonist's father treated her terribly:( and her partner tells his father'don't talk to my wife like that' and they leave, he comforts her and is the best husband ever written.🥹🥹

so all I thought about was my big, angry man ✨Hotch✨ maybe they go to a family dinner for the first time and see how the reader's family treats them, belittling their work and stuff like that, until at one point they say like 'we never know how she got someone so as interesting as you Aaron' and he just explodes because cute man defends his lady and he's just grotesque and all to defend her and she's crying because she loves Hotch too much and that he saw so much in her It means a lot because she has never really felt like this. 😭🤍🤍

i hope this helps you, it felt better in my head than when i wrote it.🥹🥹♥️

i love what you do, sending you love!

xoxoxo

to be loved is to be known | aaron hotchner

to be loved is to be known | aaron hotchner

pairing: bf!aaron hotchner fem!gf!reader

summary: reader didn’t want aaron to meet her family. after one dinner he understands why.

content/tw: established relationship, crying, reader has siblings, toxic family, angst, fluffy ending, reader’s mother makes comments about her weight

word count: 3k

a/n: I absolutely loved your request, best believe I dropped all of my WIPs to write this one (sorry not sorry). I hope whatever reason you were crying about it’s over, but if it isn’t, then I hope this can warm your heart a little. Thank you so much for your request and your kind words!!! Sending much much much love, hugs and kisses!!

all hotch tag: @winyourheartemma

dividers by @uzmacchiato

masterlist <3

You weren’t hoping for a car accident. You weren’t hoping for your boyfriend’s phone to start ringing with a new and very urgent case. 

But as you sat in the passenger seat of your boyfriend’s car on the way to your childhood house, you couldn’t help but wish something – anything – got in the way.

It was only a few days prior when Aaron, your boyfriend of almost 7 months, decided to drop the bomb. The ‘I’ve never met your family’ bomb. And later that day, when your mother called you (like she did every Tuesday night) he was with you. He was comfortably seated on your couch, staring at you with puppy eyes as you had the weekly catch-up with your mom (which resumed in talking your ear off about whatever stupid subject was on her mind). So, you couldn’t help but offer a family dinner to introduce them to your boyfriend, to which she, for the first time in a few months, was actually happy and excited about.

The regret hit it like a truck at the exact moment he walked out your door. But there was no way of coming back now, after it was all set up. Aaron seemed actually excited about meeting your family, and you understood that this was probably a big deal for him. In general, actually. It was a big step in a relationship, you recognize. And it’s not like you weren’t ready for that step, you and him were probably living together by now. It was that you didn’t want to pop the perfectly healthy bubble you both created.

And family dinners were always… stressful.

You could’ve just explained that to him. Aaron, being the perfectly polite and respectable man that he was, would understand immediately. But you didn’t want to be the whiny immature little girl who couldn’t deal with problems. You were an adult, you paid your own bills, you had your own place. And he was the Unit Chief of the BAU, a title that on its own raised expectations. You couldn’t be the FBI bossman’s girlfriend and stress about your mom calling out your weight, or about your father criticizing your job. And if this wasn’t enough, Aaron was amazing. He was the most kind, loving and appreciative man you’ve ever met. You wanted to be good for him. So if you had to endure a few hours with your family, then be it. He was worth it.

And selfishly, you wanted to brag about dating him to your family. Yes, dad, mom. I’ve made it. Suck it.

When the day came, saying you were stressed was an understatement. Aaron sat quietly on your bed watching you change your outfit a handful of times, try at least three hairstyles and do a full face of make-up twice. He didn’t say a word about it. Unless when he complimented you, to which he did evey time.

You didn’t cry, which was always a good sign.

You held the flowers and the wine he brought while he drove. The forty-seven minutes drive rode without music. He found it strange, because you insisted on blasting your playlists even when the drive wasn’t long enough for a single song (when it happened, he always made sure to drive extra slow to make sure you sang every word and drummed every note of it).

If he noticed you shifting your position (every two minutes), or you rechecking your makeup on the rearview mirror (every red light), or you applying your lipgloss (three times and once more when you got there), he didn’t say anything.

Just before you reached the handle to open the door, he turned to you, reaching over the console to grab your hand.

“Is everything ok?” you huffed a laugh at his question, leaning over and giving him a peck on the lips.

“They are gonna fall in love with you, Aaron. Just like I did.” you said, honestly. He scanned your eyes and when he made sure you were being honest (he always knew when you lied, that’s why you came up with a method of being evasive everytime you didn’t want to tell the truth).

Squeezing your hand one last time, he stepped out of the car, quickly making his way towards your door. He took the flowers and the wine off your arms, helping you get off the seat and walking with you up the front stairs.

Before you knocked you turned to face him, a rush of courage running through your veins with being so close to the house.

“Listen, before we get in…”

Whatever you were about to confide in him got interrupted by the front door opened. Your mother stood there, with a tight smile she reserved to you, her beloved daughter.

“I thought it was you, my dear. You must be Supervisory Special Agent Hotchner. It’s a pleasure finally meeting you.” she cheered, standing her hand. He gave her a polite smile.

“Just, Aaron, please. The pleasure is all mine, Ma’am.”

“Come in, please. Honey, will you please finish up the kitchen?” she asks, rushing your boyfriend inside without giving you a second glance.

Aaron chased after your eyes, worriedly, but you just dismissed him, winking and mouthing a ‘Told you.’

You quickly made your way towards the kitchen, your body remembering all too well how to walk those corridors. Just like always, you finished off dinner, making sure the dishes were done and everything was in its place while you heard the laughter of the rest of them in the living room.

“There she is, my beautiful baby girl.” your father cooed, standing up on his seat next to Aaron when you walked in and approaching you to hug you “We were just showing Aaron here your child pictures.” he spoke, laughing.

You felt your cheeks burn in embarrassment, biting hard on your inside cheeks to keep from complaining. No mature woman would throw a tantrum over a child photo album.

“She hated pictures. We tried to collect memories, you know, Aaron?” your mom recited, showing a sequence of pictures “But she just didn’t accept it. Always grumpy, always turning away. You got yourself a hard one.” she laughed, playfully pushing his shoulder.

He stared at the pictures, somehow amazed. Your heart raced at the smile growing on his face (like it always did). He held one photo, your least favorite one. Your face was puffy with crying, your hair wildly flying everywhere. You had your mouth open like you were saying something (probably begging them to stop), and your braces shone against the flash of the camera. Your clothes were clearly not your size, your posture curved like you were trying to turn into a ball.

You hated that picture with all of your being, but your parents kept showing them to everyone who dared to stop by. Aaron held it close to your face, his eyes with nothing but found as he said

“So your eyes have always been this shiny. I’ve always wondered.” you smiled at him, the warmth of his love for you never failing to make you feel at home.

“Well, let’s eat before the food gets cold, right?” your mother announced, rushing everyone into the dining room.

It all went surprisingly well (at least as well a dinner with your parents could go).

“This is delicious, Mrs.” Aaron complimented, after your mother refilled his plate.

“Thank you, dear. Do you cook, Aaron?” she asked, dragging his name as if she was enjoying being that close to an FBI agent.

“I can get by.”

“He’s lying. Aaron is an amazing cook.” you interrupted, nudging him with a proud smile.

“We figured, right, darling?” she asked your father “I noticed the moment she started eating more. Her puffy cheeks can’t deny it! Just like when she was my baby, following me everywhere.” your mother cooed, leaning over to your chair and pinching your cheek.

For the first time that evening Aaron looked absolutely mortified. He opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, anything, but nothing came out. He didn’t know where to begin. It would be funny seeing him all flabbergasted if it weren’t for the ache on your heart from your mother’s words.

Whoever said that time heals everything is full of shit.

Just like that, your father changes the subject for your teenage stories: your least favorite subject in the entire world.

“I’ll tell you what, Aaron. You’re a brave one. We knew it from the one: she’s a hard one.” your father pointed at you with his chin, smiling like he was complimenting you.

“What do you mean?” your boyfriend asked, sounding genuinely confused.

You could see right through his act. The way his knuckles went white at how hard he gripped the silverware, the muscle on his jaw flexing like he was struggling to keep tightly shut. You wanted to kiss his cheeks until his dimples started showing again.

“Oh, you know. Don’t take me the wrong way, we love our grumpy baby girl.” and then, he turned his attention to you “Take it easy on him, sweetheart. He’s a good one, you won’t want him running away. Don’t make it so hard for him.”

Aaron stepped up, interrupting before any other subject got introduced and he lost his chance. 

“Loving your daughter is the easiest and most effortless thing I’ve ever done.” he said, with a slight frown.

He wasn’t smiling, wasn’t laughing. He wasn’t trying to make you feel better. He was stating a fact. He was saying it so sure of himself, that made your parents seem crazy not to feel the same way.

You bit back a smile, bumping your knee against him. He did it back. ‘Thank you.’ ‘I got you.’

“Of course you say that.” your father laughed like he told an inside joke “Look at your job. Speaking of which, we want to hear everything about it.”

And then your mother started rambling about a few cases she watched on the news, asking details and making all kinds of questions, to which Aaron made sure to answer evasively enough to not break protocol, but making sure to spill some uneventful details to distract them. Your heart swelled with love every time he directed his attention towards you, asking details he “forgot” but told you in private, just to include you (on dinner with your family in your childhood home).

“I want to take a moment to appreciate you being here, Aaron.” your mother started, beaming at him “I know you are a very busy man, and I hope it didn’t mess your schedule up.”

“No, I really wanted to come. Thank you for having me.”

She just dismissed him with a wave of his hand “I can only imagine how hard it must’ve been to make time to be here with us. It’s very important for our family. I say this because our other children all also have very important jobs, and unfortunately weren’t able to make it in such short notice.” she looked at him apologetically. Aaron only stared back, once again too stunned to speak. Your mother looked back at you, throwing a wink and a lopsided smile “The perks of not having big responsibilities.” 

“That’s not…” Aaron’s speech got interrupted right away. You tried not to sigh too loudly.

“There’s something I want to do.” your father announces, clasping his hand together with an excited smile.

Your mother gasped “Do you think it’s time, my dear?”

“Absolutely, darling. Wait here, you two.”

You weren't sure what was about to happen, but you were sure it couldn’t be good.

What an euphemism.

A couple minutes later your father gets back with a champagne, sparkly and expensive. Your face falls at its sight. You bite your cheek not to cry.

Your mother stands up right next to him, and they look at you like they were about to make an oscar-winner level of speech.

“When our children were babies, we bought each of them one of those.” he lifts the bottle “We kept them with all of our love, waiting to pop them open when the moment came. And today, it's time for our final bottle. We had promotions, graduations, admissions. It makes me emotional to think how long we’ve come. When our baby was just seven, she had a dream. She wanted to find a loving and rich husband and live as a princess.” he chuckled, raising his hands in apology “Now, I do not want to jinx it, but I do think…”

“That’s so unbelievably disrespectful.” Aaron spat.

Silence.

More silence.

Your father clears his throat.

“Perdon me?” your mother tries.

“The entire evening I watched both of you mistreat her, sugarcoating it with a half-hearted compliment. It’s very clear to me that none of you value her as the woman she is, and there’s only one reason: you don’t know her. And aren’t even slightly interested in doing it." His tone was harsh and straightforward, glaring daggers at your parents. They seemed small and insignificant in front of the anger boiling over Aaron’s eyes. “It’s impressive to me how you don’t even realize how poorly you’ve been treating her. She’s the smartest, kindest, most selfless and talented woman I know, and you two have the audacity to pop up a champagne as if her biggest accomplishment in life is getting a boyfriend?” he chuckles darkly “I’m incredibly proud and sorry at the same time at how immune she is to your behavior. But I’m not, and let me say this loud and clear: I will not, under no circumstances, tolerate anyone treating my girlfriend like that. Anyone.”

He said, his eyes fulminating them. With a short nod, Aaron stood up and walked himself out the door, not waiting for anyone to lead him out. You followed suit behind him, not even sparing a glance to your parents.

The two of you drove silently all the way back to his place, without not much more than a word. Your mind raced with thoughts, your whole life passing through your mind like a movie, so many things you thought were normal. So many memories, so many feelings. You were nowhere near comprehending everything, but it was a start. You could see it more clearly now.

Aaron locked the door after you got in, and you heard him sigh.

“Listen, honey, I’m so sorry…” he interrupted himself when he heard you sniff. He touched your shoulder, aching to hold you close, but now knowing if that’s what you want “Are you crying? I apologize, it wasn’t my place…”

This time, you were the one interrupting him. You turned around and threw yourself on him, burying your face on his chest and crying your eyes out. His breathing deepened, kissing the top of your head and stroking your hair.

You had no idea how much time you spent like that, but eventually he picked you up with ease and sat down on the couch with you curled up on his lap.

After a while, when your sobbing toned down to silent tears, you glanced up at him.

“Thank you, Aaron. I’ve never felt so seen in my entire life.” he held you closer, like he wanted to keep you close to his heart forever, protecting you from every possible harm.

“At first, I thought you didn’t want me to meet your family because you weren’t there yet. Relationship wise.” he began.

You pulled yourself away from his chest, still seated on his lap but shifting to face him “Not at all. I just didn’t think they deserved you.”

He gave you a pointed look “They don’t deserve you.” He stared deeply into your eyes, as if he wanted to make sure you understood “The very first thing you said to me when you first met was that you were complicated.”

Aaron took a deep breath, watching your eyes like he finally completed the puzzle. “You always seemed ready for me to leave you, always made sure to look understanding. Like you believed I would give up on you, and it would be only the right thing to do. You always mentioned, between a joke and another, that you were a problem, a burden. That you didn’t deserve me, like it isn’t the other way around.” your gaze fell to your hands, the weight of being seeing hard on you.

“Aaron…” you whispered, your voice weak from all the crying. He gently grabbed your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes. To see every emotion he felt towards you. He kissed your chin, each of your cheeks, where you probably had tear strains. He kissed your swollen eyes, your makeup defined smudged. He kissed your forehead, your nose and your lips, taking extra long there. When he made sure you were paying attention, he pulled back and kept speaking.

“I remember thinking what on earth made someone like you believe that. The thought consumed me. I needed to know, needed to understand where all that came from. You know, profiler.” he joked, which made you laugh weakly.

“And somehow you missed the reason why I didn’t take you to meet my parents sooner.” you teased. He rolled his eyes.

“In our line of work, when we end up in a case that is, for some reason, personal to us, the protocol is to step back. Do you know why?” you shook your head “Because love can cloud your judgement. It certainly did mine.”

“Careful, agent Hotchner. You might make me think you’re in love with me or something.” you joked. He smiled, giving you another kiss.

“I am. Desperately so. And apart from what you think, it’s not difficult. I can’t imagine a life where I met you and didn’t fall in love with you. It’s the most natural thing for me.” you press your lips together to keep them from shaking, as your eyes filled with tears “Do you realize you’ve absorbed their disturbing opinions of you? You keep repeating them to yourself like a mantra, like it's a fact. I always wondered why you think so lowly of yourself. It’s now clear.”

“I hate that.”

He kissed the tip of your nose.

“ I’ll tell you what: we’re on this together.”

“On what?” you gave him a puzzling look.

“We’re breaking down those walls, brick by brick. Every single lie they made you believe was true, we’re tearing it all apart.”

“Ugh, this sounds like a hard job.” you muttered.

“It’s not. In the slightest.” he disagreed immediately “Thank you, honey. Thank you for letting me see that part of your life. Thank you for allowing me to love you, and for loving me back. You amaze me more each day, and I’ll make it my personal mission to make you see it too.” His words were low and serious, not made to impress. Made to let you know, to make you believe.

“Even if it takes your whole life?” you asked, trying to make it sound like a joke to mask your insecurity.

It would be a long way to go, but the love flooding over his eyes was a great first step. “Especially if it takes my whole life.”

[jules-van-hering]

I survived my parents' visit

[i-cant-sing]

Mmmhhh thinking about Yandere Batfam reacting to a reader who runs a very popular blog where she absolutely bashes Batman and Robins- and the batfam takes your criticism very seriously. Maybe not at first, but then Damian (the easiest to tick) got pissed off when you wrote how "he's just a kid in a cheap Halloween costume" and when Damian gets pissed off, he whines. He whines and whines and whines until Dick and Bruce finally listen to him and do something about it. That's when they find out about the extensive threads about them, criticising meticulously each and every action of theirs, how they're causing more financial harm to Gotham and allowing themselves to be idolised and causing more people to comit crimes just so that they could have their 5 seconds of fame with Batman. And ofc theirs a whole page about the Batsignal.

I mean, Damian and Tim have already found out who runs the page (though they had a little bit of a hard time sniffing u out. You were good at covering your tracks). While Damian and Tim are busy going to "have a talk with you", Bruce is at home reading your entire blog about Batfam and realising how some of your points.... kinda makes sense. So, he buys the app where you write your blogs, then has Damian bring you over to the Wayne offices, where he explains he just wanted to meet the person running the blog that generates the most readers on the app. You, just a 23 year old student who's blogging as a side hustle.

You're obviously stunned because why are you meeting Bruce Wayne and also confused because again, why are you here exactly??? Bruce just says that he likes your insights and would like to know more, and he's happy to pay you by the hour you spend talking to him and also on the blog.

He's very much determined to make Batman and Robins be good in your mind, and not that he cares much about what people think about him, it doesn't hurt to have good PR for heroes, lest people should try revolting against Justice league and only end up hurting themselves. There's only so much he could do to calm his metahuman friends.

You're again- CONFUSED, but you like money. The only thing you tell him is that you get to write whatever you want, complete creative control and that you can write about anyone you wish. Ofc, it doesn't register to Bruce that you could possibly write against his family- against his name.

So in the beginning, things are going great. Reader continues making calculated judgements and comments about Batfam and how they could possibly improve themselves, the batfam takes note and tries to do most of the things. Then you'd write something that could almost be seen as praise for "changing their old ways" and they all feel a little bit proud. They don't realise it but some members of the batfam (like damian and Dick) start craving your approval of their actions.

Perhaps something happens, maybe you don't find it fun to write about the bats anymore, so you shift your mind towards a new topic-

The Wayne's.

You research a bit, finding it a little odd at Bruve Wayne's generosity to be adopting random ass kids, a super duper clean record, no scandals or anything- it just- it doesn't feel right. No one's that clean. They have to be hiding something.

So when u can't find anything against them, you let your imagination go wild and start making conspiracy theories, kinda feel like reader goes in her gossip girl era to stir things up so that someone would come forward with something- anything.

Bruce's eyes almost bulge out as he reads the blog's headline-

"The secrets of Gotham's favourite billionaire playboy!"

Shit- did you figure out he's batman?

Nope. In fact, you covered everything but that. From theories about him adopting troubled kids for PR, to the Wayne family actually being a chauvinist cult, to conspiracies about his ties with the Rothschild, his philanthropic donations being a front for illegal activity, the Wayne Manor holding lavish nsfw parties, and even a classic "they drink virgin maiden blood!"

Bruce stood in your apartment, eyes narrowing at your sleeping form on the couch.

"Bruce? What- how did you get in?" You don't remember unlocking your door.

"What is the meaning of this?" He pulled up your article on his phone.

"Huh?" You took a closer look, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. "Oh. Yeah, I wrote that."

"Why?"

You shrugged. "I was bored."

"What?" Bruce could feel himself getting angry. How could you be so nonchalant about the lies you wrote?

"You know this isn't true." "I do." "Then why did you write it?" "I told you, I was bored. Besides, you told me I could write about anyone." You get up with a sigh. "I don't get why you're so worried about this. Barely anyone reads this stuff."

Bruce's brows went up. "There's a 1000 plus views on this already!"

"What?" your eyes twinkled. "A thousand already? Its not even been 24 hours since I posted. Wow, people really do enjoy conspiracy-" you shut up when you saw his glare. "Right, sorry."

"Take it down, now." Bruce orders, brow twitching when you just walk past him and into the kitchen, pouring yourself some coffee. "Why?" you asks after taking a sip.

He glares at you. "Because it isnt true-"

"Then give me something that is."

Bruce stared at you. Is this... is this your way of wanting an interview?

You sighed. "Look, just let me interview you family, I promise to only write the truth and only the truth. No conspiracies, I swear."

"Or I could just fire you. Better yet, have you sued for defamation."

You nodded. "You could, but honestly that would only bring more attention to the articles and more conspiracies would arise. Besides, you and I both know you cant stop me from writing even if I'm in jail."

Bruce watched you walk upto him, holding your phone in your hand. "Come on, just one week- one week at your place, I'll even let you read the article before I post it. If you dont like it, I'll delete it."

I mean... it did sound like a pretty good bargain. Besides, at his home, youd be in a more supervised space.

So here you are, standing in the lobby of the Wayne manor as a posh butler leads you to Bruce's office. Of course Alfred will be a part of your articles. He's too fancy to not be.

And so over the course of a week, you dont really find anything particularly intriguing about the family, even after you interviewed each member. You're mentally groaning at the thought of writing yet another boring article... that is until you accidentally discover the batcave (ok not accidentally, u hid a recorder in Bruce's office and u heard the man discussing about it with Dick)

Anyways, it didnt take long for you to discover the cave, and it took you even less for you to write a scandalous article.

"RICH MAN COSPLAYS AND PRACTICES HIS JUJUTSU SKILLS ON THE MENTALLY ILL! SEE PICTURES OF WHERE HE ROLEPLAYS IN MASKS!"

Unfortunately, before you hit "post", your phone is snatched and you're knocked out.

When you come to, Bruce is sitting in front of you looking beyond pissed while you're tied up in your seat.

"We had a deal, Y/n." Bruce gritted out.

"So? Deal was off the moment I found out you were Batman." You shrugged.

"We had a deal-"

"You really expect me to just pretend like I'm blind after I found out who you really are? Do you think anyone would just give up on a scoop this big?" You tilt your head at him.

Bruce narrowed his eyes at you. "Scoop? Thats what this is to you?"

You nodded. "Sure, you're a hero who fights crime and brings "peace" to Gotham, but who knows for sure? After all, thats how you want the world to see you." You lean as far as your restraints allow you. "I dont trust you, Bruce. Not one bit. There's just- this gut feeling about you. Nothing personal, but I dont get good vibes from you."

"Is that so?" Bruce raised his brow before sighing. "I guess there's no reason to let you go then."

"What?"

He nodded to himself. "Yes, if I let you go now, you'll only cause more trouble for me, but also for yourself. If you post content like that, people will target you- yes, I definitely cant let you go. You're an impulsive idiot who'd endanger herself just to not be bored."

Your eyes widen. "You cant kill me."

Bruce scoffed. "Dont be ridiculous, I can, but I wont. I just want to take care of you, protect you from yourself." He stood up. "I did a little bit of research on you too, yknow? You keep your personal life super private, I have to give credit to you, it wasnt easy to find out about your family. But... money makes the mare go."

Your throat dried as you saw a glint in his eyes. He knew... he couldnt-

Bruce's footsteps echoed as he neared you and ruffled your hair. "Poor you... having to deal with a schizoprenic mom." He leaned down to smile gently at you, but you could sense the sinister intent.

"Dont worry, she'll be taken care of at Gotham Asylum while you stay with us."

girl idk where i was going with this, i just needed to get it out of my drafts (i have another long incomplete draft about platonic yandere dick x gymnast reader where he basically is intrigued by this mini tonya harding who lives for her dead beat father's approval who doesnt give a shit about her unless she comes first. so its upto dick to adopt u and make u a part of batfam)

[seasidefallenangel]

she's got those evil eyes (2)

bllk boys and their mean girlfriends ft nagi seishiro, hiori yo, michael kaiser

notes: i got asked to make a part 2, reader is still a bitch, hiori and kaiser's kinda suggestive?, part 1

༄ nagi seishiro:

✣ his pr team asking him to care about his girlfriend’s actions is like pulling teeth - only twenty times more frustrating. whatever you say goes as far as he’s concerned. even if he himself doesn’t wanna do something, the glare in your eyes with your foot tapping impatiently on the hardwood floor causes a quiet, “yes, boss,” to fall from his lips in submission. maybe he’s a tiny bit scared of you, but he also knows it’s just easier to give you whatever you want and be your watchdog to shield you from criticism instead.

⁀➷ if nagi died in the next five seconds then he would be satisfied. going out with your nails gently massaging his scalp while he snuggles against your stomach and plays on his phone is probably the closest to heaven anyone has ever been. so when that hand is so cruel as to leave his head in favor of smashing the keys on your phone, he’s very obviously displeased. “come baaack,” he mumbles with a slight whine in his voice. you’re unresponsive, causing him to move and look up at you, asking, “what are you doing now?” he has a vague idea of what considering his manager is rapid texting him to log onto your account and delete your tweets, but he simply mutes the conversation. you mutter that it’s nothing he needs to worry about, and he just responds with, “mkay,” before tugging your hand to his hair again, intent on being coddled by you. 

༄ hiori yo:

✣ the devil on your shoulder whispering to do all this stuff in the first place. he knows he looks completely harmless, so you’re the perfect cover for him to let out all his deranged thoughts by proxy. it looks like he has a tight leash on you, but the reins are barely even held in his hands. kurona sends him an interview one of the paparazzi managed to snag of you walking out from the grocery store, and hiori flat out leaves practice because he needs to see you now.

⁀➷ the recording of your voice echoes from his cell phone while he enters your shared home after rushing there. a grin lies on his face as he hears you tell the reporter how you’re thrilled that his worthless life led him to hassling a soccer player’s girlfriend before yanking his camera and throwing it on the ground. a fair share of comments say you had every right to do so considering the invasive nature of the press while the rest disagree, saying it was far too aggressive. if anything, hiori wishes you were more aggressive.

you can’t even get a word in as he sits on the couch, gripping your wrists almost painfully while tugging you into his lap. his lips are on yours faster than you can blink - kissing you so hard you feel lightheaded but it’s just not enough. hiori needs you pliant beneath him, that nasty streak of yours quelled by his suffocating hold. despite that, part of him wants you kicking and cursing him out, teeth gnashing as blood from your lips trickles into his mouth. his heart is clawing its way out of his chest and eager to jump into yours, for you to become an extension of his body. an endless plethora of breathy “i love you”s is his confession of how badly he wants to break you, and have you break him in return.

༄ michael kaiser:

✣ be serious - he’s the one you’re fighting with the most. there’s nothing he loves more than to rile you up, knowing how fast your temper will crack. a self proclaimed expert at getting under your skin if he had to describe it. though he still enjoys seeing how harsh you can be with the general public, his favorite pastime will always be pissing you off. quite frankly, he tends to get jealous when you’re paying just a bit too much attention to others during your rampages. 

⁀➷ an amused smirk rests on kaiser’s face as he leisurely stands against the frame of your shared bedroom’s door. if he’s being honest, part of him isn’t even listening. you’re busy spitting out insults about his demeanor towards one of your friends and all he can think about is ripping the attitude out of you. not forever, of course. the enjoyment he gets from your outbursts is far too valuable. maybe just for a night or two so he can enjoy his docile puppy before you begin baring your teeth towards him once more. even now as you grow more irate, he’s walking over like he has all the time in the world - completely unbothered.

his fingers curl around your chin, paying no mind to the way you try to bite them off. instead, he’s cooing at you like you’re a harmless child. “hm? what’s got you all worked up, haschen? have i not been giving you enough attention?” his all-knowing tone infuriates you and you’re about to try and mutilate him until his hand slides down to your throat, squeezing just enough to know that he can and will rip the breath from your lungs. voice eerily low, he stares into your eyes with a piercing grin and unsettling smile, asking, “should i show you how i deal with feral animals?”

[jscrawls]

Widows rest

My take on a Black widow! Reader x Batman and Batfam but with a slight twist, reader doesn't know the Bats but they seem to know them...

Warning: contains avengers infinity war spoilers, black widow spoilers, brief mentions of violence, hospitals, poor writing, possible ooc,

Part 8: happy home

🔹🔹🔹

You're officially going ‘home’ today, the doctors have decided that you're well enough to get the boot. It's a little strange to think about, as much as you hate this place it's also the only point of this world you actually know. You have no other base here, no aliases, no hidden safehouse, no Natalia, just you and some strangers. There's been a tension in your shoulders all day, thankfully no one's commented on it yet.

“Are you ready mx Wayne? I've prepared one of the more subtle cars today.” The older man comments respectfully, he's tall, thin, almost haggardly so. yet he carries himself like a military general. Mr pennyworth is an odd one for sure, he eyes the clothes he brought you critically, like he's nitpicking the minute details of you while speaking in respectful deference. It's almost amusing.

“One of the - do you think we'll be attacked or something.” Your tone is flat, yet your words are meant in jest. Though you are curious just how much your husband wastes on cars if there's a selection to pick from.

“If the paparazzi got a sniff of you, then yeah. Might as well count as an attack.” The tall kid mutters as he grabs your bag off the bed, you should probably start calling him Jason instead of the tall one, but eh.

You briefly eye the bag, the only things of ‘yours’ in it is your phone, your medication, and the syringe you managed to keep all this time. You'd tucked that under a layer when you were changing out of the stupid hospital clothes in the bathroom.

“…why would they care about someone leaving a hospital? Isn't Bruce the famous one of the two of us?” The thought annoys and baffles you, most of your experience with press was them accusing you of various assassinations and demanding you be locked away so you're not exactly too keen to run into issue here.

“Mx Wayne, you are a minor celebrity, whether you remember it or not. Being ‘just the spouse’ doesn't mean you're completely hidden in Bruce's shadow.” Mr pennyworth says firmly, his posture straightening slightly, his chin tilting up, he's trying to be firm, He clearly wants to get the message through you.

“…alright, point taken. Shall we?” You start towards the door to your room, both relieved and pissed to leave this place.

“Ahem, are you forgetting doctor's orders?” The tall one- Jason grabs the handles of your wheelchair in the corner, in that moment you want to grab it and throw it off the rooftop.

🔹🔹🔹

You slide the sunglasses a little higher up your nose as you approach the doors, Jason pushing your chair and holding your bag on his arm while Alfred walks in front of you both towards the back exit. Your thoughts drifting towards the next steps, planning your next move…. But why? what exactly are you doing? Playing pretend out of habit, no real mission here. No loyalty or fealty to uphold. No goal in mind. It's a strange train in thought to hit you right as your bathing wheeled out the door by your supposed kid.

You nearly swing an elbow when something is suddenly shoved in your face, a microphone hitting your chin while Jason curses loudly behind you and body blocks the reporter, the duo had been hiding in the bushes like a couple of wild animals.

“Mx Wayne! A word! A word please!” The dark haired woman persists, flailing around Jason while shouting at you, waving her microphone like she's wielding a weapon. “Any comment on your hospital stay? What did you think of your attackers trial? Are the rumors true that you're splitting from Mr Wayne due to your injuries?”

“No comment, don't you people have anyone else to harass?” Jason barks at them, now it's clear to you why he insisted on coming today, he's practically a shield with his stature.

The cameraman tries to slip past Jason, practically kicking at him as he tries to get a close-up of your face. Alfred all but shoves past him as he quickly takes over Jason's job of pushing your chair, grumbling quietly so only you can hear him.

“dear Lord above, no manners these days…”

You're tense, even that small interaction has you feeling put off and unsettled, you're secretive by nature, feeling at odds with yourself already, and now someone's trying to plaster your face on a channel or magazine? Treating you like the press treats Stark? It feels like your skin is crawling, a deeply unsettled feeling nestles in your stomach as you're quickly helped into a car.

🔹🔹🔹

You stare up at the mansion with a neutral expression as you drive up to it, well as the butler drives. Him and Jason have been discussing your physical therapy schedule for a few minutes now while you quietly stare up the long driveway, something about attending every week and needing shots every few days, you really should pay more attention. Gather Intel while you can, yet you're more focused on your newfound freedom.

…Though with the way this place is built, you're still not so free. The manor could pass for a sanitarium, large gates surround the property and you think you can see evidence of security cameras on key points, you agreed to come to this place for appearance sake, but now you kinda wish you'd demanded your own apartment instead. Something private where you wouldn't be locked in a house full of strangers calling you their parent.

“…do you recall anything about this place? Anything…reminding you of anything or…” the butler questions you when he notices your focus elsewhere, Jason glances from the passenger seat back at you with what you can only call a hopeful look in his eyes.

You shake your head slowly, watching as you wheel closer to your next lock-in. “No…nothing at all…tell me a little about it?” Your response is automatic, tone shifting to curiosity and meekness as you meet their stares, though inside you feel hollow as the car parks.

🔹🔹🔹

“-and this is one of your favorite rooms, the library.” Alfred gestures broadly as he opens the double doors, just like with every other room he's shown you.

“Alright…”

You step inside with Jason grabbing your arm like you'll fall on your face, and take it in, the room could pass as part of a public library. It smells musty and old, aging paper and real leather furniture apparent, you walk towards a random shelf and slowly trail your fingers across the spines as you read the titles, Austen, Dickens, Hemingway, Woolf, brontë, the Wayne's are big collectors of the classics it seems.

You glance over your shoulder, catching Jason settling on an armchair with a book in hand, Alfred stands at the door and just…watches you. The old fellow is quite observant you've noticed.

“Something wrong, Mr pennyworth?” your voice is gentle, watching him as closely as he watches you. He shifts just slightly, expression not changing even as Jason looks up from his book to watch.

“Not at all, master Wayne. Are you feeling up for more of the tour? There's still the sitting rooms and the sleeping areas, oh, and the cellars. Silly me.” He's equally gentle, yet you get the feeling this is suddenly a game of some sort. Something telling you to keep a lid on around him.

You fully turn to face him, hand dropping back at your side. “I'm surprisingly tired, to be frank. As little as I've done today…” you don't need to put on an act for that, you're actually exhausted, have been since the paparazzi incident as you left the hospital.

It's silent for a beat, Jason looks between the two of you with a confused furrow on his brow. You and the butler staring at each other like this is a game of cat and mouse. Finally the butler speaks.

“Yes that would happen, being hospitalized for as long as you were can have…. Strange effects on one. Come along if you're able.” He turns on his heel and leaves without waiting to see if you'll follow.

Your brow furrows just a second as you walk after him, was he implying something?

🔹🔹🔹

M.list | prev | next

A/n: we're finally out of the hospital! It only took *checks notes* eight chapters. Lol the interactions are gonna be a lot more interesting now hopefully 😉

Taglist: @cxcilla @mercuryathens @dind1n @redsakura101 @ninihrtss @let-me-dance @ladykamos @one-piecelover @cuntiesweet

[tarotenchantress]

Astro observations ptV Aye-Aye and the swan edition🦢🏹

DO NOT PLAGIARISE MY WORK🚫

All these observations are based on my personal experience.

By- tarotenchantress🧚🏻‍♀️

The following observations are based on my understanding of what placement may make one think that they are ugly, dont fit the "ideal" box, are always noticed for their looks, are criticised for their looks, have their worth attached to their looks, have people compare them/ rate them for their looks, feel that nothing they do makes them feel pretty, are treated differently for their appearance, are considered stupid because of their appearance, bear the brunt of others envy and projection because of their appearance and those who become vain in their beauty .

Aye-aye is a lemur that is associated with ugliness due to its appearance and swan, as we all know, is associated with beauty because of its appearance, hence the title🏹🤍

🦢 venus in hard aspects with saturn, saturn in venusian degrees of libra (7°,19°)and taurus(2°,14°,26°), venus in capricorn or aquarius.

[This placement may make you very critical of your appearance, it can also mean that to an extent you may nitpick on your features alot, feel like your face is not "balanced" enough or "proportionate enough", call yourself names and idk why the word gross came inmy my mind so maybe some of you are also doing that or do that. This placement is also extremely prone to hating on their body too specifically the hip areas may feel as if their ass is too flat or it are not "pretty". This placement also indicates growing into your features later in life. Some mught even hate their voice or feel uncomfortable listening to their voice. People with this placement may also have suppressed anger issues esp when people comment on their body as neither of these signs and planets are extremely vocal about their pain. Youmay also feel as if no one understands your pain or people tend to be extremelycold or uncaring towards your body issues. Some people may also force you to believe that you have "masculine" features and they maypick on it. You may feel as if people around you judge you alot for appearance and tend to withhold opportunities just cause of your appearance. This placement also indicates that you either got into makeup very early on orrr you got introduced to it way later. This placement to be honest also indicates that one might hate their nose or its bone structure and feel as if it has "ruined" their face and the proportionality. Cynicism may also arise when it comes to appearance. You guys remember that tiktok audio which went like "how old are you?" "Im 19" "you look older" "its not a compliment" yeahh it mught be some scene like that too. Ans i also feel that people may pick on your ass or hips or nose or ears or your throat or voice in general or you may do it. And you may also look into workouts specifically of glutes and to increase the lower hip area and may also hate singing or feel extremely insecure about it. They may get a lot hate from feminine energies or may feel as if women were far more critical of them. Stiff lower back too]

🦢 ascendant in hard aspects with saturn, venus, mars, ascendant in capricorn or capricorn degrees, aspecting 10th house.

[People with

Venus in hard aspect with ascendant may not even see their own beauty. Its almost as if they become so vain with idealising others and other body types esp hourglass figures that they forget about their own appearance and feel dejected. They may also feel extremely jealous if other women looking the way they idealise or may get upset. Venus also demands perfectionism and this placement indicates never being happy with you appearance. Almost as if there's always something to pick on, something out of place something to hate on. Especially the ass area, it may be a point of insecuriry for some.

Mars in hard aspects may always feel as if their body is not "soft" enough or on the contrary not "healthy" enough. They may also have a sensitive ir "red" skin. The undertone of their skin may be reddish too. They may feel as if they "look too boxy" may often idealise a body with abs and muscles or a more feminine body [not gender specific] and mayworkout just to get that look or on the contrary may hate their "manly look" and try to hide it and hate it being the focus of attention. They may also have a love hate relationship with the feminine side of themselves as they may try to show up as more aggressive or dominating or masculine. They may be very hard on their body. One may also be impatient. This placement is also an indicator that masculine energies or men may not have been the kindest towards you may have passed absurd comments on your bosy. Also indicates that youmay be someone who might get into physical fights which may scar your appearance in some way. Dw this doesnt have to be the case for all.

Ascendant in hard aspects with saturn may hate their skeletal system.may feel as if their bones are not strong enough. May feel insecure about their bones as they may be "sticking out" or "weirdly shaped" may also be on the skinnier end may have been picked on for being like that. Adults may be harsh on you since childhood for you appearance. This placement struggles to see beauty in everyday life, in themselves. Very prone to melancholic phases. May want to get surgery done but too scared of its process and effects and failures. Also idk how to say this, like, its not for everyone but you may have a "boney" ass or you may feel like you have a "boney" ass.. Im so sorry omg. Stretching js a muat with this placement as you may feel your back getting stiff. Lower back esp. You may also fear sex and have it later in life and intimacy too and you may feel robotic in sexual acts. May mean tgst you like to dress up more conservatively or your dressing sense may be on the formal mature end.

[Similar effects seen for the remaining. Cap rising, rising in cap degrees, aspecting 10th house]

I have ascendant □ saturn and i tell you what. i used have alot of acne on my forehead and i also had a very oily skin cause i was 13 and i ended up using a pumice stone on my forehead cause pain was the only way for it to go away🤡]

[Capricorn or aqua here may do the same, 10th house placements too]

🦢neptune aspecting ascendant and sun esp harsher aspects in 1st house.

You may not even understand how you look like. Like genuinely having no sense of how your body looks like. I have nept conj sun and i for the longest time had no concept of my own body type even today idk what it is. This placement indicate that you may fantasise alot about an ideal body type and may feel dejected if you dont achieve them or if someone tells you it is impossible, you cant handle it and will refuse to accept it. Delulu is the word yeah. Also sense of self may be weak here. Also very prone to falling for others words esp when they are related to their appearance. Blind to their own beauty.

🦢 pluto aspecting ascendant, venus, in libra, in taurus, in 7th house, in libra degrees of 7°,14°, taurus degrees of 2°,14°,26°, in 2nd house, aspecting 7th house, in 2nd house, in 1st house, in 8th house.

[ anything pluto touches becomes a point of obsession. Here pluto creates an intense need to transform. May make the native a bit obsessed with their appearance, become critical or simply wanting to keep working on it. May also make the native work on their appearance for sexual reasons and may fear being rejected sexually because of their body. May also have intimacy issues. People may be obsessed with your appearance and they may hate on you. People may view you in a sexual manner. Women may be more prone to picking on you. But the thing is,,,, this obsession is not always outright, it can be very secretive as pluto and 8th house also govern secrets. You may feel like covering up your body more and not wanting to be in the spotlight. Early knowledge of being sexualised and also introduced to sexual aspects very early on too. May bring out insecurities in others. You may be far more critical of your appearance . You may also be more critical of your ass and genitilia. They may be darker than the rest of your body which may make you insecure.

I have venus square pluto and i had already mentioned it my prev. Observation but i had people i didnt know sexualise me and i had a "friend" who told me that she was scared ill "take" her 🤡married crush🤡 away because of appearance. Yes. Married crush who i never spoke to or knew about before she started🤡 talking to me about him.

I also had another "friend" mock me for wearing makeup who i very quickly shut down by sharing some youtube makeup tutorials on her number and telling her to learn from them.]

🦢uranus aspecting ascendant harshly.

[You may love your appearance one day and hate it the next day. You may have features that stand out alot and " ruin the balance" in your face which is not true. You may also prioritise your mind over your body for most parts.]

🦢venus in aqua, cap, pisces, scorpio

[May make you critical, delulu and obsessive about your appearance.

I have pisces venus and i hate feet. Im sorry. Im not trying to kink shame but i hate my feet and others too. And i know another pisces venus who feels insecure when she looks at other people's feet. Esp women's feet. ]

🦢chiron aspecting venus, asc, 1st house, 7th house, 2nd house, in libra degrees, in taurus degrees, in libra, taurus, in aspecting 1st house, 2nd house, 7th house, 8th house.

[These placements may give pain in lower back areas, relationships that teach you a lesson, become more critical of your aptearance, biggest pain could come from appearance or romantic partners. Also your crushes may reject you or you may feel rejected by them. One of those placements where their crush goes "ewwww" when shipped with them. (Same can happen in saturn aspects too.)] Also back archs may be a pain in the ass for you. Idk why i said that. Intimacy may also be a huge pain for you you. You may fear intimacy and acts like sex.

🦢beauty asteroids in harsh aspects like aphrodite etc

May make a person insecure about their appearance and not see their beauty at all.

🦢nessus aspecting venus, 7th house 2nd house, in those houses, in libra degrees, in taurus degrees

Like i had said in previous obs, nessus is where tou are abused and where you abuse. It is where you get picked on. Your romantic partners may pick on you. They may also sexually pick on you.

🦢saturn in 4th house, in cancer, aspects to moon, in cancerian degres, libra degrees, taurus degres

May make a person fear "losing" their boobs, may make you critical of your boobs, also make you have issues with feelings and intimacy romantic and sexual moments. Love hate relationship with your boobs. May also create issues with femininity.

Like i have moon conj my saturn and i fear losing my boobs as i admire them the most but i also fear losing them if i lose weight and i also hate them sometimes cause i cant wear some tops without feeling like a young medieval woman with a needy baby who's husband has eloped with another woman and now she has to seduce an old man to get by. Omg.

🦢Venus in 6th house, 12th house, virgo venus, virgo rising

May make the native feel as if theyre not that pretty, or eye catching. It may make the person feel like people overlook them and ignore them or they are not remembered alot. May also make the native dress up more modestly or connservatively. May make the native feel bland. May make them seek perfectionism. May also feel the best when OTHERS compliment them and may dress up for public acceptance and approval.

I have it and there are days when i feel like a medieval maid. I also feel like i dont have features that make me unique or stand out. I feel bland. Like wheat.

Alsooo bonus obv i feel like 2nd house stellium or taurus stellium tends to make a person resemble a bull. Its their nose idk why.

[morlock-holmes]

Still thinking about that Astral Codex Ten AI Art Turing test...

I mean... Obviously the one on the right is the human one. Is this some kind of prank? Am I on candid camera?

My suspicion is that what this test demonstrates most conclusively is that we are so thoroughly bombarded with images that we have developed the defensive measure of paying as little attention to them as possible.

We get the gist and then move on as quickly as possible.

Here's someone who did much better than I did on this test explaining their results.

This demonstrates fairly conclusively that nearly all the AI images Alexander chose do in fact, have "tells" which are extremely plain when you attend closely to the details.

In fact, I managed to get 2 out of every 3 correct even with an incredibly lazy and fast-paced assessment carried out on my phone without much recourse to fine detail.

There are two trends I noticed in the comments of the results post.

First, a significant number of ACX posters harbor a suspicion and resentment towards art and good taste, which leads them to suspect that all artistic judgement is essentially arbitrary and based on clout. They don't notice the difference, so there must not be a difference.

Second, a number of people who are clearly AI skeptics gave ground and accepted the idea that the AI images were lacking in "tells" and were especially good, and instead attempted to attack the test on the grounds that this kind of curation was itself unfair.

Both responses indicate, to me, both a fascination with images and a kind of, for lack of a better word, illiteracy about them.

And perhaps most interestingly this illiteracy doesn't seem to obviously vary between pro and anti-AI readers.

To go back to the side by side landscapes up there, the landscape on the left probably has the fewest obvious "tells" of AI art, maybe of all the AI images.

It's also just, you know, a much worse piece of art than the one on the right?

To go back to what I said in an earlier post, the painting on the right draws the eye down the hill. The two figures on the path are expertly set off so that even though they are barely suggested with just a couple of brush strokes, they immediately stand out and draw the eye, causing you to follow the same path they are taking down into the village.

Contrast the image on the left. Which part of the painting is your eye drawn to first? It could really by almost anywhere. No part of the picture is more important than any other, there's very little contrast between, say, the village on the right and the wildflowers on the left. What detail there is is largely because, well, otherwise there wouldn't be a painting.

If you asked 100 art critics which of those paintings was by a renowned master and which one you found hanging in a dentist's office I think all 100 would give you the same answer.

Or take this one:

If you really, really zoom in on the hand on our right, the anatomy is probably wonky, but I didn't notice that, I just thought,

"Okay, but, like, what is this angel, like... Doing?"

This figure, painted in this style, is rife with symbolism. Most likely an angel, or at the very least Icarus, it ought to be extremely clear what sort of emotional/cultural/allegorical/etc. meaning is being communicated, but it is just sort of... looking off yearningly towards nothing.

Culturally, it's just not something that a human would paint as a finished piece.

Actually in general AI seems to tend to either not have a clear focal point, or to have one extremely obvious subject placed right smack dab in the center of the frame.

One of the subtle visual gags in Monty Python and The Holy Grail is that the peasants are often doing things that look, on very cursory examination, as though they are some kind of agricultural activity, but actually they are just hitting random patches of ground with a stick or sitting on the ground and moving mud into a big pile.

And same with this Angel; it looks, at casual glance, to be doing "Angel type stuff" and if you just keep moving you leave with the impression that everything was fine.

But if you stop yourself, go back, and ask, "Wait, specifically what is it doing?" you really can't come up with anything more specific than, "Angel type stuff".

This sort of vagueness is also a tell of AI art.

If what I'm saying sounds a bit frustrated or mean-spirited I think it's because looking at this test has solidified something that I haven't really been able to articulate before, which sort of sums up to the vast majority of talk about AI, regardless of what the conclusion is, evidences a strong emotional investment in images paradoxically combined with a sort of estrangement from them and often even a strong resentment towards them.

Both pro and anti-AI imagery camps contain a tremendous number of people who feel imagery as a kind of imposition, with AI as either an emancipatory force aimed at a tyrannical art world bent on crushing us with arbitrary, incomprehensible images or, on the other hand, as a tyrannical force set to flood us helplessly with a set of incomprehensible images almost entirely against our will.

[nekropsii]

Wild how when I call Shipping Culture oppressively pervasive and awful for any Aro/Ace with the gall to enjoy anything on the Internet, I get called a Fun-Hating Killjoy and told to just shut the fuck up or off myself, no matter how mild or polite my comment is. Wild how when I say a character either is textually Aro/Ace or is easier to read as Aro/Ace than Alloromantic/sexual, people start talking down to me like I'm a child who doesn't know anything, saying "Friendly reminder that Aro(s)/Aces can Date/Have Sex too, just like us Normal People!". As if I don't know anything about my own identity. Wild how when I do either of these things or even just say I'm not into a pairing or uninvested in shipping in general people call me fucking homophobic, even if the (at least popularly perceived - let's be honest, people are wrong half the time) genders of the characters is never once made relevant. Even though their reasoning for me being homophobic is lack of investment in a gay pairing they like, and nothing more. Wild how people throw little baby tantrums at even the gentlest criticism of Shipping Culture, or someone choosing not to engage heavily in it. Wild how they have the audacity to ask, with hostility, what the fuck Aro(s)/Aces are talking about when they say Shipping Culture is hostile to Aro/Ace fans, or ask what's wrong with them when they say that they aren't into Shipping.

It's almost like Bigots don't realize they're being Bigots when they do Bigotry, so just saying you're not a Bigot isn't enough. It's almost like Aro/Ace people know what the hell they're talking about. It's almost like we have a fucking point. It's almost like we're valid in expressing contempt and frustration with the constant expectation to engage with Romance and Sexuality at every waking moment, even if we're Romance and/or Sex Favorable. It's almost like we're tired of getting our identities erased, and we're tired of expecting to "act normal", and we're tired of just taking it when Allos use the Favorable members of our communities as a scapegoat for why they should be allowed to totally erase any of our representation just for their "Harmless Queer Fun" - deliberately, and I mean DELIBERATELY, failing to recognize or acknowledge the character's orientation, and how an A-Spec's personal relationship with and expressions of Love are going to look drastically different from an Allo person's - and call us the Bigots when we even glance in the direction of objection.

It's almost like Allo/Amatonormativity are oppressive forces.

Alloromantics/sexuals are constantly looking for any reason they can to call Aro(s)/Aces unloving, unfeeling, frigid, soulless, cruel. Inhuman. They're looking for any reason they can to call us whiny children, stupid, people who "just haven't found the right one", addressing us only as "Works in Progress", or someone who can have their sexuality corrected with the right stimulus - Conversion Therapy and Corrective Rape are okay when it happens to us, after all. Any reason at all to call us heartless monsters. AlloAces are confused children. They can be fixed. AroAllos are manipulative, unfeeling sexual predators. They can't be fixed - just kill them. AroAces are frigid, mean bitches. They can be fixed. God forbid you're Aplatonic. God forbid you're part of the Repulsed spectrum. God forbid you're one of the Loveless. God forbid you hold any pride in your identity, God forbid you don't keep your mouth shut, God forbid you critique the overinflated importance Allos place onto Love as a concept. God forbid you critique something as asinine and juvenile as fucking Shipping Culture. Do any one of these and you've put a bright red, blazing neon target on your back.

Wild how the only real humans amongst us are the Romance, Sex, and Friendship Favorable who put their head down and mask as Allo, and side with the Allos when their fellow A-Specs get too loud for the comfort of their Allo friend's delicate little fee-fees. After all, Vitriol and Harassment are warranted when an Allo's feelings get slightly hurt that an Aro person says, on their own account, to no one in particular, that they're sick of every tag being 80% Shipping Content. Which is a vehemently evil personal attack, clearly.

Wild.

[scoobydoodean]

I see people saying there is evidence dean is bi all the time but I don’t see it? he only sleeps with and kisses women

Maybe I shouldn't, but I'm going to take this ask in good faith, and assume that you're either very young or very straight. Two general comments first of all.

First, if you are in fact looking for someone to fight with about "proof" of Dean's bisexuality, I don't give a shit. I think bi dean and acespec dean are fun and enjoy thinking about them and I think there is plenty of ways to build out narratives on these. I am not going to bandy words with someone over whether they think Dean is bi or gay or straight or whatever and what does and doesn't count as queer "evidence" because that isn't what sparks joy on tumblr for me.

Second, I'd be remiss not to point out that treating kissing or sleeping with people as the only way someone's sexuality can be known is a very narrow view. Bisexuals are always bisexual—not just when they're in same sex relationships. Under your sexuality test, someone who's never had sex or kissed is automatically ace, because there's no evidence that they've acted on attraction to others in a physical way.

Thinking from a bi perspective, your test ignores that socially, expressing attraction to the opposite sex openly is accepted in a way that expressing attraction to the same sex simply isn't (and DEFINITELY wasn't in 2005). No one will bat an eye at you for going on a date with someone of the opposite sex. But if you go on a date with someone of the same sex, you take on the risk of that being a problem for some of the people around you. It might be a problem for family members, an employer, neighbors, people in your local community, a stranger who you pass on the street, friends you grew up with, etc—maybe even the government. It's easier in a lot of cases to avoid mentioning your sexuality, and it's actually easier to find people of the opposite sex to date since most people are heterosexual. So you will often just not mention your sexuality, and while not necessarily being closeted (though that definitely happens too) just let people assume (as they often do) that you're straight until/unless you hit it off with someone of the same sex. Bisexual people almost always realize they're attracted to the opposite sex first, because they're socialized that way, which also means they can typically mask their sexuality more easily.

Your test also ignores censorship. What society perceives as socially acceptable impacts what you see in media. Openly queer characters were not common when Supernatural first began airing, and even now, a lead is very rarely queer, and it's nearly unheard of (until 911 like a year ago afaik) for a main character to be explicitly revealed to be queer late into a show's run, because networks care about profit and are afraid of losing mainstream audiences. As times change, those concerns mellow out, but the 2000s were absolutely steeped in homophobia and it was perfectly socially acceptable to hate gay people, think people of the same sex shouldn't be allowed to marry (still pretty common thinking tbh), and to believe that same sex romance is a form of sexual deviancy akin to pedophilia and incest and that it should get you thrown in jail or into a treatment center. That's the world Dean Winchester—a drifter who is already looked on with suspicion and would do well to avoid drawing any further attention—finds himself in, and it's the world that Kripke and the other writers knew when they started writing. Execs were not going to greenlight a bisexual lead. And they also weren't going to greenlight explicitly making a character bisexual late in the show's run because they'd fear losing mainstream audiences.

So if the only thing you'll accept as evidence of someone's queerness is kissing or sex, then Dean will never be queer to you and there's no "evidence". But if you're actually willing to think more critically about the queer experience and censorship, there's a reason that Dean can easily be read as queer and why it is incredibly common to perceive him as queer.

One of Kripke's inspirations for Supernatural was Jack Kerouac's "On The Road". Dean was named after Dean Moriarty, a bisexual man in the book. The book itself was originally censored by publishers to omit Moriarty's bisexuality. You can still read the censored version, or the "original scroll" that is uncensored. Considering that Kripke named Dean after a bisexual whose bisexuality was omitted for publishing, it isn't at all unreasonable to conclude Kripke was inspired by more than the road trip aspects of the story and this character study of Moriarty.

Add that Dean has multiple interactions with other men feel flirtatious (look at Sam as contrast), that Dean tends to have very deep and emotional bonds with other men (again in sharp contrast to his brother), and that Dean says things that lend to queer readings constantly. I have a bi dean tag--#swayze always gets a pass if you'd like to see what I've collected (note this is a tag for dean's overall sexuality which means I include his interactions with women as well, and haven't actively gone about seeking out gifsets and such to add to it as much as i've reblogged stuff that crosses my dash for the most part) but more specifically, we could look at:

parallels of Sam with women and Dean with men

Dean's infatuation with Dr. Sexy (coupled with mocking from Sam about Dean being a girl), it being made very clear that Dr. Sexy is the one Dean is infatuated with when he clocks the absent cowboy boots, and even how Gabriel tries to become his fantasy.

Look at Dean's bashfulness! Romantic harp music plays over Dr. Sexy's approach.

Dean giving three people the "last night on earth" speech

Dean looking appreciatively at a soldier in uniform

Dean helping Charlie flirt with a man after she explicitly says she can't flirt with a man because she's gay.

Kripke's comments on what Dean would be romantically attracted to in another person

Dean's gay thing and Ben Edlund and Phil Sgriccia making commentary on it.

Fun deancassie/deancas parallels

Cas lives in Dean's ass (and when Cas starts to deny then falters?)

Dean mentioning that he believes Bert and Ernie are gay, then immediately swearing Cas won't die a virgin.

Triplets

Crowley and Dean's summer of love

Dean's affinity for dorky little guys

That's very non-exhaustive, but some of the things I think are fun.

[liillyliilly]

I Need A Challenge

ushijima wakatoshi x reader words; 3804 synopsis; she writes a scathing review of ushijima's volleyball skills. how else should he respond if not by inviting her out to dinner?

She was tired of people like him. People who had no reason to be so stereotypically perfect. Everyone knows the type, comically good looking, is a prodigy in their one specific thing, acting so nonchalant that it ends up becoming their token personality trait. It was all so boring to her.

Which is why, as she was taking notes in the most recent Volleyball Nations League game, she wrote down some very harsh words for her analysis of star spiker Ushijima Wakatoshi. It was just the brutally honest truth of the world, she reasoned. Her editor, after reading the article she wrote at the game, almost dropped their jaw in shock at what she had written.

“This is really,” Editor Xhou sucked in some air through his teeth, “This is almost borderline libel material.”

She inspected her nails, shrugging as Xhou kept talking to her.

“I mean, you said that he is, and I quote from your own words, ‘Ushijima is the default setting for a volleyball player, there’s nothing too particularly unique’. You want me to let the paper publish this?” Xhou leans back into his office chair, pushing his glasses up and sighing.

“I write the truth, and the truth is that when Ushijima is on the court, you always know the exact plays he’ll make, the exact moves he’ll execute. The result is consistently the same. The games are too predictable when he plays.” She stands up from the seat opposite to Xhou.

Xhou sets the paper on his desk, checking that she really is okay with the article having her name attached to it.

A thumbs up is the only response she gives to her supervisor.

Xhou stamps the paper with his name, and faxes the documents to the coordinator putting together the sports magazine review for this issue. He wonders if the legal team is going to get involved again, he remembers the last player she reviewed, he was crushed and had to move to Alaska to play in a much smaller league. Xhou fully believes he’s going to get the magazine sued for letting her article fly.

Tendou finishes his squat set, hanging up the weights with a heave. Ushijima finishes his hundredth bicep curl, finally finishing his repetitions of this exercise.

Tendou pokes some fun, “I'm so sad for people without legs, they have to skip leg day.” He muses, trying to see what reaction or comment his best friend will make. Tendou twists and flexes in the full length mirrors lining the gym.

Ushijima only responds with a nod. He checks his phone, only to see that he’s received a little over four hundred notifications and counting. The beeping and noises start to pile up. Tendou peeks over Ushijima’s shoulder and gasps, he steals Ushijima’s phone away and immediately investigates what all the hustle and bustle could be related to.

“You should probably read this article, I think the writer has it out for your throat Wakatoshi.” Tendou grimaces while handing the phone back.

He skims the article, viewing the main talking points and major issues the author brings to light about his play style. His boring, everyday genius playstyle. He’s read criticisms of his volleyball skills before, but this one doesn’t seem too targeted solely about him, just using him as the mechanism to get a broader point across about the lack of challenges in volleyball recently. He chuckles at one of her comments, reading it aloud.

“Monster generation? I need a real challenge from these players, but all they’re giving me is platinum dreams without true passion and anger for the sport. I want them foaming at the mouth with new tricks, but I’m getting the same exact game over and over again.” Tendou cringes as Ushijima reads the words out loud. Ushijima stifles another chuckle.

Ushijima tucks his phone into his pocket, picking up his duffel bag. “I like her. She knows volleyball.”

It wasn’t just her comments, it was also the name of the author that Ushijima liked.

Tendou drops his water bottle in response to Ushijima’s behavior, stunned at the openness of amusement he has for the article and for the investment he has for this particular reporter.

Ushijima’s manager says that she’ll have a cease and desist letter issued to the paper for publishing such a slanderous piece. Ushijima proposes an entirely different solution.

She didn’t expect to be sitting at a restaurant, pencil and paper in hand, waiting for someone she just dragged through the mud to arrive so they could share a meal and an interview.

It was winter, and her reading glasses had fogged up slightly in the difference between the outdoors temperature and the warmth of the restaurant. The main features of the restaurant was the Western Style dining choices and decor, it reminded her almost of a hibachi place, but instead of Japanese food it was just a bunch of American and European dishes.

“It’s nice to see you again.” Ushijima pulls out his chair and settles into it, grabbing his glass of water so he can drink from it.

“High school seemed so long ago, but yes it is nice to see you again Wakatoshi. Sorry for the piece, your name just carries the right amount of importance to get my bigger points across.” She crosses her legs, setting her pencil behind her ear. The waiter comes around and takes their orders. He asks for the salmon, and she gets the house soup.

“No, I totally get it. But the statement about how people just continually eat up the single dish I serve? I thought you would’ve found a better analogy for my consistency on the court.” He just smiles at her, watching her move the pencil from behind her ear to her mouth so she could chew on it a little. One of her tells of when she was deeply thinking about how to respond to something.

Ushijima remembers all the stories she would write back in high school, ranging from sports analysis of Shiratorizawa clubs for her journalism extracurricular to getting paid to write love letters from person to person. She garnered enough money to pay for a new laptop and her entire wishlist of stationery items.

He remembers her lending him a pen once during class, it was a weightier metal pen. The ink was so black he was sure it was made of pure darkness. While he admired the pen she went into a rant talking about the pen itself, the quality of it and how it took forever to be delivered to her. They both got chastised by the teacher for having a side conversation and had to sit outside the classroom. But they ended up talking outside the classroom despite being told not to.

“Like you’d know what a good analogy looks like.” She hides her smirk behind a spoonful of soup. Ushijima appreciates her ability to be unapologetic, her honesty and bluntness matching his own linguistic traits.

They talk for three hours, about volleyball, life after high school, the article she wrote, about friends and the situations they found themselves in. Ushijima talks about Tendou and his chocolatier aspirations, she brings up Semi Eita’s new album that actually sounded truly alternative and unique.

He remembers her having a crush on Semi throughout high school. He didn’t really see why she would sit at their practices sometimes, just sighing wistfully, before freezing and turning flustered when Semi tried to make conversation like a normal person. But when Semi was seen to be a slight habitual complainer, she grew a distaste for him. Ushijima was sure that Semi was her longest crush, clocking in at around two months or so.

Ushijima did enjoy that she came to their practices sometimes, because then he could ask her about her pen collection and she would openly, loudly, and enthusiastically layer on every detail she could fit into her remarks. And she was someone who asked him about his favorite things, primarily volleyball but also about reading the advertisements in the Weekly Shonen Jump Magazine. Or about how good a runner’s high could feel sometimes.

Around her, he could share without fear of being misunderstood. She just accepted what she heard, and then analyzed it, taking her time and asking clarifying questions. He did his best to emulate her mannerisms and tact within their conversations, usually failing, but she didn’t mind.

She did openly declare an aversion for him throughout high school, that genius powerhouses should never be entertained with acknowledgement. What others considered harsh from her was almost like beaming encouragement for him. It was like she was telling him, if he didn’t continually improve and advance then the stagnation would leave him in the dust. A push in the right direction was more accurate of why she would say what she did about him.

He takes the bill from her, puts his gold debit card on the clipboard, and returns it to the waiter before she can even open her purse. Rolling her eyes, she sets some bills on the table and slides it over to him. Glaring at him until he accepts the cash and puts the bills into his wallet.

“Are you dating anyone right now?” Ushijima inquires while they walk down the street to get to the train station. The night air leaves a chill around the two of them. He had his hands tucked into his pockets, and she had her arms folded over her body.

Snow falls from the sky, catching the lights and making streaks of color burst in small flickers like fireflies. The piled up snow in the roads hadn’t yet been plowed thoroughly, and wasn’t sullied with pollution that made it yellow and black. The snow was much more like a blanket.

“Listen, I’m what people consider easy to love but hard to please. Most people say they felt like they were never enough for me when we were dating.” She bites on her bottom lip a little. It’s a confusing feeling to be unnerved by him, and she feels even more uneasy when she realizes that she’s speaking too openly. “I don’t intentionally degrade those I date, I just, I have high expectations. I don’t give many second chances.”

His breath comes out in puffs of white, winter nipping at his nose which makes him feel uncomfortable. He wonders if she’s as cold as him. He knew that she had high expectations, none of the boys at their high school got remotely close to being romantically involved with her. She wanted more than what most people could offer. She wanted someone who was as open as her.

She feels a little guilty about her article now. Maybe she pushed the words a little too much on his bad qualities. Ushijima really wasn’t that bad, he was just dependable and rational, which crafted his playstyle of being an ultimate pillar of strength for a team. Why shouldn’t a team go with the most reliable way of scoring points? Then she shooed the thought. If volleyball wanted to keep being popular, it needed to evolve.

“I liked your article a lot.” He offers, segwaying the conversation, knowing her thoughts better than she knew them. “Power goes far, but even then, there’s ceilings that need to be broken. There’s talents that need to be unearthed, planted, and then allowed to bloom.”

They sit on the bench under the covering for the train station. The screen shows that the train she needs to take will come in around ten minutes.

“Thanks. My editor was worried you were going to sue me for what I wrote.” She laughs a little, rubbing her hands against her thighs to build up some lingering heat in her hands and her body.

He passes her his gloves from his jacket pocket. Making a small hum he waves them in front of her. She accepts and embraces the black fleece covering her fingers.

“Oh, no, there’s no way I’d want you to be sued. But I do want you to add another part to the article.” He blows some air onto his hands, rubbing them together. She raises an eyebrow inquisitively, turning towards him on the bench.

Once he had finished reading her piece on Ushijima’s game, he went through and read all her other articles. He found out her favorite current player was actually Hinata Shouyou, the energetic innovator. She had written about his unique approach, due to natural athleticism. Also about his experience in Brazilian beach volleyball making his defense skills unique in the field of both Japanese volleyball and on a global scale. It was all about Hinata this, Hinata that. But could the ultimate decoy ever compare to the pillar of strength?

“What do you want me to change? I can’t make any promises.”

“Say I’m your number one, because I don’t do last place.” Ushijima lifted her chin up, looking right into her eyes. He inspects her face, the small miniscule motions her features display show that she’s listening, actively listening. “Did I ever mention that you’re the only one that has my attention?”

She really was. The only reporter he cared to give quotes to after big games, the only girl who he ever wondered if there was any possibility to develop a relationship with. He was hooked on every word she wrote, every interview she hosted online. She was in his world, but never overlapped her social circle with his for longer than an hour at best.

She swallows thickly, “I’m sorry to say this, but I really am unimpressed by your playstyle.”

He raises an eyebrow, sliding his hand from her chin to the side of her neck. He can feel the way her pulse is racing under her skin.

“We both know that’s not true.”

Her train arrived. She ducked under his hand and made her way onto the train. Before the sliding door closes, she motions him closer so she doesn't have to yell.

“Then show me your talents. I need a challenger for my first place.”

Tendou lies on his stomach on the floor, Ushijima is reviewing some plays written by his coach. He scans for any play that could show off his left hand spikes, or any play that he could try and improvise a receive if he wasn’t on the front row rotation. The plays are different from what he’s used to. But his coach said that they were all optional, and that Ushijima’s playstyle was perfectly fine as it was. But ‘fine as is’ doesn’t earn him any accolades in her book.

Tendou perks up, “I always felt like fighting had romantic undertones.” He references what Ushijima had told him about how the dinner with his reporter went last week.

“But I don’t want to fight her? I’d hardly call a slight disagreement a fight.” Ushijima sets aside the packet he had been studying.

He opens his phone and refreshes the webpage for the newspaper she worked for. When nothing pops up under her name, he goes to the calendar page to see if she’d be attending an upcoming game he’d be playing in. He sets his phone aside when he realizes she will in fact be in attendance.

“But you do want to fight for her ‘first place’ hottie player ranking.” Tendou kicks his feet in the air, crossing his feet and tapping the top of his head.

Ushijima stands up and goes to check his closet, seeing if he needs to get a tighter jersey for the upcoming game. “She never used the word ‘hottie’ when talking about her favorite player.”

“So you admit that you do want to be her favorite player?”

Ushijima finishes trying on the jersey over his long sleeve compression shirt, the jersey fitted better than he remembered. He tugs on the front of the uniform. Then what Tendou said clicks for him.

Ushijima blinks, “I do want to be her favorite player.” He doesn’t see why he would deny that observation. Being her favorite player would be the ideal situation for him.

Tendou rolls over onto his back and wiggles his pointer fingers in the air, “You want to be more than just her favorite player.” He sings the words in a teasing manner.

“Maybe I do.”

One time, near the end of high school, she was talking during lunch. Her friends were uninterested, wanting to discuss boys or homework instead of her critical worldview analysis. Her table was right next to the table that Ushijima and Tendou were sitting at, their volleyball friends already outside tossing around a ball.

Ushijima listened in, drinking his milk while Tendou ate chicken nuggets. When her voice got quieter, almost to the point of fading out entirely due to her slowly realizing her friends were not as interested in the conversation as she was, Ushijima leaned in subconsciously, trying to catch her words.

Tendou pinched Ushijima, telling him that if he wanted to listen to her, he should ask her to come sit with them. Ushijima froze. So Tendou invited her to come sit with them. Placing her lunch tray down, she ate a carrot, sensing Ushijima’s hesitance and Tendou’s eagerness.

It was Ushijima that spoke first, “Keep going. You remind me of someone. He said almost the same thing, about his worthless pride and not forgetting about it.”

She brightens. Continuing her dissection of the value of pride, she refers to Ushijima as a reference point for pride. Using him in her examples and demonstrations of her illustrative examples. Around the third time she says his family name, he makes another request.

“You can just call me Wakatoshi.”

Tendou drops his chicken nugget, but quickly regains his pace in eating the arms off the dinosaurs.

She says his name, once and then twice. Letting it settle onto her tongue and leave a trace of what a first name basis could mean. Pondering on that instead of her newest philosophy interest is quickly dropped. She only ever calls him by his name from then on.

Needless to say, the next game he plays at, she’s there, with her notepad and pen. Each receive, hit, serve, and toss is carefully recorded on her paper.

He doesn’t do anything too off the typical, but he does try new things his coach had mentioned. Pressuring an opponent’s highest scorer more, trying a few block kills when he’s in the right rotation, scoring some points off the tip of the blockers hands instead of cutting right through their attempts to defend. He’s more tired after this game than his last one. Yet, he had more fun this time around. His teammates seemed thrilled with the results of never having a gap less than five points.

After the game, before he goes to the locker room to debrief with the team and change into regular clothes, he stalks his way over to her. She’s talking to another reporter that had been sitting in the media section, but the other reporter just elbows her lightly when he notices Ushijima making an attempt to approach. The other man slowly walks away, bidding her a farewell.

She’s still sitting on the bench, cheekily covering her notes with her hand, and writing something down. When he takes a place next to her, he spreads his legs a little, expanding his presence and bumping their thighs into each other. She initially retracts from the touch, but relaxes into it.

He’s aware that his body is thinly sheened with sweat. It drips from the hair at his nape down his back and soaks into his player kit. She brings her notepad up to her face, looking at him over the spiral binding of the paper. Trying to hide her comments and analysis of the game, which had been overwhelmingly positive for Ushijima.

“What’s your professional opinion of the game?” He uses a finger to push down her notepad that was covering her nose. A streak of ink and pencil lead was across her cheek and nose. He brought his thumb up and wiped away the markings. At first swipe, nothing moved, so he slid his thumb over again with just a little more pressure.

“It was entertaining in a different sense. Rather than being solely athletic entertainment.” She licks her own thumb and finishes wiping away all the marks that she could feel him trying to get rid of. She misses a sliver on the apple of her cheek but he doesn’t say anything, enjoying the way that it makes her seem less intimidating and more adorable.

“Care to share with the class?”

“Well, when a certain player keeps trying to make eye contact during the game, when he should instead be invested in the game, it does pose some interesting investigative questions.”

At this point, Ushijima slid his hand to her thigh, asking her to explain further, “Such as?”

“When will he get up the nerve to ask her on a date? Will he take her for a ride in that brand new car he got? Does he need glasses from how frequently it seemed he scrutinized the audience in search of her?” She pauses, then continues, “And will he be mad if she writes something about how attentive the setter was during the game?”

“Soon, for the date. Most definitely a long car ride to the mountains. His vision is actually perfectly 20/20, he just wanted to make sure she was having a good time by observing her reactions. No comments for the setter, he’s a rookie, and much less attentive than an older, more experienced player.”

She hums a little in regards to his answers to her inquiries. Soon, she tugs on the back of his hand, the hand that was resting on her thigh. She bites the cap off her pen, waving the pen in the air, close enough to his skin for him to understand the point of what she was communicating.

The pen tickled the skin of his hand, but he liked the way she put one hand under his to make his hand rest flat so she could write her piece on his body. Capping the pen back up, she tucked it behind her ear.

Written on his hand was a series of numbers, along with a small doodle of a volleyball.

Getting up from her spot on the media bench, she leaves him with a short statement.

“I liked your response to my challenge. Keep making the Monster Generation bloom with each game Wakatoshi.” She halts for a moment, then turns back to him, “You can be my number one on those conditions. Blooming the Monsters and responding to my challenges.”

He’d return every challenge she gave him if it meant he could be hers.

[howiscallmewhateveridctaken]

Lmfaooo what a week 😅

So a lot of people are, understandably, leaving the fandom. Drama like this always tends to put people off and unfortunately that affects the media they’ve come to love. I’m not going to be one of those people bc honestly, I don’t even know if I was ever that “in” the fandom in the first place to even leave it. My account isn’t and never was a nevermore account, yes I’ve made a few nevermore post but those were infrequent and amongst posts and reblogs of multiple other fandoms. I’m also in the discord server but I’ve only ever been a lurker, and usually only ever go in it when I want more context to something I’ve seen on tumblr. With that being said however, I still plan on reading nevermore when (or if) it continues because in THIS particular instance I can easily separate art from the artist and I’ll explain why in a moment.

Like I said I’m not and never have been very active in the fandom. I learned about this drama through a post from an account I follow and went through the server to find more context. I was not present through any of the actual conflicts but I’ve seen the conversations.

So why am I commenting on this?

Well mainly I want to make a point about para social relationships as well as moderation of servers and fandoms as a creator.

I just want to preface this by saying that after reading through all possible context, perspectives, takes and evidence I could find or come across, I genuinely don’t think red is necessarily a bad/morally wrong person. I DO however think she is in the wrong in this situation especially due to how she handled everything. As for how a lot of people are reacting to everything, there’s a couple of things I’d like to note:

From what I’ve seen, all of this is just one big thing of “he said/she said” and pointing fingers as well as just picking sides. If your absolutely distraught because red didn’t turn out to be the person you thought they were simply because she said things you didn’t like, I understand the disappointment and frustration but please remember that content creators in general aren’t your friends. You don’t know these people, they just do things you happen to like. Now I’m not saying you SHOULDN’T feel upset about it, it’s ok to and you even should if it’s an issue to you feel strongly about but please keep in mind that this isn’t a “sign of their true colors” or anything because you don’t know what they were actually like to begin with. Ofc I don’t mean that to say “expect the worst from people” but more as a reminder that can hopefully help you to look at the situation more critically and logically before jumping in guns blazing. It’s understandable if it affects you emotionally, you were emotionally invested in their work; but please realize this before you let it get to that point. Now on the other side of the coin, there’s the people who I feel as though will just pick the creators side simply because they’re fanboys and will stand by them no matter what. I’m DEFINITELY NOT saying that’s what everyone who’s on red side is, but naturally there’s bound to be a few that are going to dickride for the sake of dickriding. Regardless, there’s a lack of willingness to listen and understand from both sides (at least from what I’ve noticed) and that’s a problem because when no one wants to listen then what’s supposed to be a community coming together to resolve an issue just turns into a giant flame war. Also this should go without saying, but at least give the mods a chance. They obviously handled the whole situation horrendously but they aren’t going to do their jobs any better when they’ve got people coming at them with pitchforks.

Speaking of the moderators. I genuinely can’t wrap my head around how red and the other mods have managed to fumble this badly…….like it’s almost funny. All said and done they all had ONE very simple job and they blew it. Although I very much disagree with it, I do understand red’s decision to unban crimson. They wanted to give them a second chance, sure whatever. What I DONT GET is why would they not at the very least check to see if anyone else would be comfortable with a decision that would possibly affect them or even impact their safety. At the very least a warning to or a discussion with the victims would have been something. Not only that but even after they unban them, once red saw the NUMEROUS amount of people that were upset about it they, they should have immediately banned them again and then apologize after instead of some rushed explanation. But I get it stress gets the better of you. I understand their desire to keep things as transparent as possible (which i appreciate and I’m sure so do many others) but from that first apology/explanation it felt more like red trying to shake responsibility off themselves and pointing fingers in the guise of being transparent. I did see where red was trying to get at in her first statement, but there was also things that she honestly should have just had the foresight to realize wouldn’t put her in a better light, and this is aside from the victim blaming-esque wording. red basically says that she felt like a group of people (including Laci the one who reported crimson) were just out to get crimson, which is absolutely insane but then again it’s the internet so who knows. However it’s super clear that Laci obviously wasn’t lying bc the things she accused crimson of did in fact happen. So even bringing that up was enough for me to raise my eyebrow at but I digress. Then red practically says it was hard to handle the situation bc the evidence provided was censored, but Laci literally offered to give the uncensored versions so that was completely disingenuous on red’s part at best. To me it just seemed like the mods were looking for excuses for what could be there own laziness at best and negligence at worst. Their biggest fault so far is not being very good at actually listening to their audience and taking them into consideration. She also brought up that fact that Laci was apparently the only person to report crimson which I did not like to say the least. One of the victims confided in Laci and Laci brought it forward. I understand reds suspicions about Laci not being in the actual server where it happened but how are you going to immediately jump to “well why did no one else bring it up” instead of stopping for a sec and thinking “ hm clearly these victims feel uncomfortable stepping forward”. Which they had to do now anyway because of how bad the issue became. They should not have had to do that. Better it be just one person reporting, even if it’s someone you don’t like, than no one reporting and the issue persists under the radar.

And then there’s red’s formal apology…

First off, girl why are you dropping names??? A bunch of who are supposedly minors? Like let’s be so fucking for real right now😭

And then the audacity to be like “please don’t go after or dm these people” like babes if you were genuinely worried about them you wouldn’t have used their names at all. ESPECIALLY when in the end it was completely irrelevant and borderline inappropriate since it really had nothing to do with crimson, their actions or how you handled them. Not to mention the act of calling them “cliques” when literally all they were was side servers. Like if they’re cliques then what does that make red and everyone who’s on her side? It was very clearly just a biased reaction to people saying things she doesn’t like about her, which by all means she has the right to respond to but not in a way that is clearly trying to sway how everyone else sees them. The way red describes everything is as if it’s middle school drama and then proceeds to play directly into it. Don’t get me wrong her apology was fine, when she was ACTUALLY apologizing. Everything else felt like a last ditch effort to drag others under the bus with her. It was lowkey embarrassing to say the least.

Again, it’s important that I make it clear that I don’t believe red is a bad person. I just think she’s an immature person, or at least she is in how she handled everything and continues to handle it bc like I said I don’t know her, and don’t care to frankly. I didn’t start reading nevermore to be buddy buddy with her. Like if we look at the grand scope of things, this is a grown woman beefing with kids. Obviously they aren’t all kids, most of them aren’t I believe but she’s practically stooping down to school yard conflict in how she’s responded so far. Especially at one point in the server when she was being called out and jumped to “yeah I guess I’m the bad guy and totally evil. You all should hate me”. Like actually cut that shit out, what are you doing. I mean honestly.

And my final point because I’ve ranted long enough. I mentioned before that in this instance I am willing to separate the art from the artist, I stand by that because I genuinely do think this is a situation where red could hopefully grow from this and rectify things. The actual unbanning was a stupid and inconsiderate move on her part, but I don’t think she meant any ill-will or had any malicious intent. I disagree with the people calling her a r@pe apologist because that’s honestly just a huge reach. I’ve also seen some accusations of red and/or Flynn being racist, promoting inappropriate art knowing there’s minors around and from what I’ve seen it’s pretty iffy. Regarding the racism, I don’t believe that they are. Their characterizations of the characters regarding their ethnicities IS stereotypical and was obviously just very surface level research into those respective cultures but I chopped that up to ignorance rather than racism. As a woc I was frankly just relived they didn’t make the poc characters centered on some kind of discrimination or tragedy from their era, which yes is something that shouldn’t be ignored but also I don’t know if rednflynn could accurately and more importantly, respectfully portray those types of issues. Nor is it even their place tbh. With that being said however I don’t belong to most of the cultures the characters belong to. To me it never seemed like they were making a caricature out of these cultures, especially since their ethnicities are barely relevant to their stories anyway but I acknowledge that it’s not my place to deem what’s offensive or not.

As for the promoting inappropriate art of the characters and creating some themselves. Yeah they do. I’ve never been shocked about that nor did I think it was something that they are wrong for doing, I mean it’s their own work. Granted I didn’t realize how many minors were in the fandom but that’s literally every fandom, there’s only so much you could do about it. I don’t know if nevermore has a rating but it’s not like it was something ever promoted to be kid friendly, it’s obvious that some scenes are just straight up fan service. While I personally don’t like fan service it never was enough to impact the story so I personally never saw an issue. But point is I don’t think they should have to monitor what is and isn’t appropriate for minors but things get tricky when they have a server where they are clearly aware of minors.

And then there’s other things like people accusing them of promoting SA or some shit like that bc of a lot of stuff involving Montessor which frankly, that’s just a media literacy issue on the readers part. So yeah with that being said I don’t think red is a bad person, although I understand why a lot of people are done with them which is completely fair. I’m pretty much in a grey area about it, who knows if they end up getting in an even bigger scandal, hopefully they come out better from this but only time will tell. The best/smartest thing red has said throughout this entire debacle was that they’re taking a step back from the fandom. I think it’ll be good for everyone, especially them. It seems like it’ll take stress off them anyway. Plus the hole they’ve dug for themselves is already halfway to china by now so there’s that

[scurvyboy]

I'm sorry Stan is a misogynist. He does sexist shit in Tourist Trapped, Headhunters, The Hand that Rocks the Mabel, Dipper vs Manliness, Dreamscaperers, Roadside Attraction, and probably more but those are the notable ones where he either harassed women, tried to dictate or disparage a woman's interests, held men to standards of toxic masculinity, or encouraged other men to harass women. "Stan worked through his misogyny in the seventies" he absolutely did not he at the most generous estimation started working on it in 2012. Like write him however you want but if we're talking "there's no textual evidence for someone not being a misogynist" there is absolutely no textual evidence that Stan ever "worked through his misogyny" in the 70s and 80s. He literally arranged a marriage between Mabel and Gideon for profit what do you MEAN he's not a misogynist. "It makes Ford a better character to work through a big flaw" and what does taking away a flaw do for Stan???

to be clear, i never claimed that stan is a perfect person or not misogynistic either. i'd be lying if i were to say that he's completely absolved of criticism for how he acts because of the analysis on his past. he's a much more sympathetic character than ford is but that doesn't mean that i'm not taking his faults into question. obviously he's going to be kind of misogynistic and make off color comments to women, he's an elderly capitalist. however, i choose to look at him with a little more nuance than "he either is a bad person or he isn't." he's a complex character, just like ford is.

as for the things he does: the arranged marriage was more of him jumping on an investment opportunity, i doubt he would force mabel to have a baby with gideon or something. his demeaning statements towards dippers masculinity stem from his own upbringing and insecurities. again, i'm not absolving him if criticism because of my analysis of him in the 80's, i just think it's kind of ridiculous that you're assuming that i think he has no faults. it's almost like all of the people in this show are well rounded and have both good and bad characteristics.

[beautifulpersonpeach]

Lol.

This will be short. I’ll go on a little tangent but I’ll tie this back to Jungkook and BTS at the end.

You know, I was mostly ambivalent about the feud between HYBE and Min Heejin until I heard her call Bang Sihyuk and his sycophants “bastards” for ‘overpaying for garbage and forcing everyone to eat it because they think the price makes the music good.’ - I’m paraphrasing a bit because her language was more crude. That made me sit up a bit, because her sentiments mirrored my thoughts about the direction Bang Sihyuk has been taking the company in for some time now.

Another random connection is that, to me at least, it seems clear BigHit is still trying to make the HYBE America investment worth it, given:

1. The unnecessarily long credit lists filled with Scooter-linked writers that appear to have become a fixture of most HYBE releases. Bang PD is clearly taking advantage of Scooter’s connections although it’s yet to yield any significant improvement in music quality, and in terms of chart performance the results are mixed at best;

2. The fact that in addition to HYBE paying US$1.05 Billion in cash for Scooter’s company, essentially overpaying for Ithaca Holdings by consensus estimates (a deal Min Heejin also openly criticized as being hare-brained), HYBE America still generated hundreds of millions of dollars in losses as of the last fiscal year, two years after the acquisition was finalized.

But this is old news, we all knew that.

The thing about Min Heejin’s comments that concerned me is that, despite what is now clearly an underperforming investment both in terms of Scooter Braun himself and the man at HYBE that arranged the deal in the first place, Lee Jae-sang, rather than work to correct course and minimize losses, Bang Sihyuk appears to be doubling down on the deal by rewarding these two men in particular with more music and business opportunities within HYBE, even if the music quality suffers as a result, even if HYBE continues overpaying for shit, and even if the artists/idols are negatively impacted in the process. And according to Min Heejin, one big reason Bang Sihyuk allows it is because those men are adept at greasing his arse and eating it out.

Basically, it’s become an expensive joke. But he’s brute forcing the deal to work because so long as BTS is involved and so ARMYs are involved, it’s a joke that Bang PD is guaranteed to take laughing all the way to the bank.

This is where I say I realized shortly after Jungkook’s fan song for Festa was announced, that I wasn’t excited to hear it. I’m saying this only because now that the song is out, it’s confirmed everything I expected. And also because that apathetic feeling was so at odds with how I’ve been feeling about Jungkook as a person for the last year. If it’s not been clear from my reblogs and gush posts, I’ve been spending the better part of this hiatus loving Jungkook extremely. Jungkook is an empathetic songwriter, an emotive vocalist, a talented producer.

But nothing about Never Let Go is exciting. Who wants to listen to a fan song written by people who’ve never had fans? And on top of that, Jungkook is making less money from that song than any fan song he’s written before. Meaning, the song is mediocre, it feels blatantly insincere in ways only a crowdsourced fan song can be, and Jungkook has to split his revenue from the song with about 10 white people. Just look at this.

I’m actually laughing typing this out, but this turn of events is at least a little tragic.

Golden worked as a concept album because it was a collection of songs Jungkook felt represented his taste, he could take on the challenge of putting out a full English album with some help from the writers, and he showcased new vocal techniques and styles that only showed an evolution from his prior work in BTS. The songs themselves were just okay, good decent pop, but as a collection it worked.

Everything about Never Let Go feels almost audaciously soulless. Not quite a slap on the face but it’s like someone coming all up in your face with a bad case of halitosis and their nose barely touching yours, daring you to do something about it.

I have no issue with HYBE working with Scooter-linked writers or producers if it means something actually good comes of it. But it seems HYBE seems to believe their work is better simply because they slap on as many foreign names in the credits as they can fit. It betrays a worrying mentality about the head honchos in the company. Looking at the peak quality in FACE by Jimin, or in Right Place, Wrong Person by RM, which included acclaimed Korean, other Asian, and Black talent supposedly hand-picked by Jimin and Joon themselves, it’s clear HYBE has access to remarkable home-grown and foreign talent that could improve the work of the members. But what I’m seeing with too much frequency is HYBE picking off the bottom of the barrel in the unending list of Scooter’s contractors and otherwise choosing to do the bare minimum.

And that’s how we end up with a Festa fan song with a topline that sounds like an AI-generated jingle written by a soccer team of hired help.

Or idk, maybe I’m being just a bit too full of it. Maybe I’ve been brainwashed by the witch Min Heejin, maybe this was just one more song Jungkook worked on with his Golden team as he had no time to write a proper fan song, nothing more. And maybe as a silver lining, there are no glaring grammatical errors though I found the ones in My You very charming, and honestly part of the appeal. To hear the way Jungkook sees the fans who have been with him till now, even if in English it didn’t quite make sense.

I said this would be short but I’ve rambled, as usual. Sorry for that. When I started out writing this post, I did intend to keep it short.

To end things on a somewhat lighter note, for me the only thing I’m excited about this Festa, is SeokJin coming back. I’ll be working on a deal during the fanmeet so I didn’t bother participating in the raffle, but I’m happy for the ARMYs who get the opportunity to hug Jin, and for Jin who gets to spend time with his fans after so long. With him returning, things are starting to feel more right, even though there are worrying signs in high places. We’ve got about 1 year left to endure most of the members enlisted and then, the crew will be rounded up again.

Now more than ever, I find myself looking forward to that.

[dandylion240]

Later that night, lying awake Jonah tried to ignore the rumblings in his stomach. It was an all to familiar feeling. He’d felt the same way when he’d been pregnant with Eli. Groaning he threw the covers back as he clapped a hand over his mouth.

He could feel Ethan’s eyes following him as he ran to the bathroom. Locking the door behind him he knelt on the floor hugging the toilet. The porcelain cool on his clammy skin.

“This can’t be happening” he mumbled getting up to splash water on his face. “Not now. Not again.”

He could hear Ethan calling his name through the door wanting to know if he was alright. Opening the door he could see Ethan’s concern written on his face. Forcing his stiff lips into a smile “I’m fine. I guess that mac and cheese I made myself eat is coming back for revenge.”

He could feel Ethan’s eyes watching him in the hopes of revealing some secret meaning behind his words. “Are you sure” he asked.

“Yeah” Jonah pushed past him. “I’m tired” he mumbled crawling into bed. With his eyes closed he listened to Ethan’s soft footsteps as they moved around the room. He could sense his unease and confusion. Squeezing his eyes shut he hoped he wouldn’t ask.

The bed moved as Ethan slipped into bed beside him. Silence filled the distance between them. Shifting Ethan lightly touched Jonah's shoulder “I know something’s bothering you. Please talk to me. Let me help you if I can.”

“I’m really tired” he whined “can we talk in the morning?” Even though it was dark he could see the hurt confused look on Ethan’s face. Eventually the bed shifted again as Ethan turned on his side away from him. Biting his bottom lip to keep from crying out Jonah knew he’d hurt him. He wanted nothing more than to feel his comforting arms around him, holding him tight. He longed to feel his soft caress and tender kisses on his skin but he couldn’t help but wonder how long that would last once he knew.

The following morning Ethan could tell Jonah hadn’t slept much. He had bags beneath his eyes and his face was paler than usual. “Morning” Ethan murmured giving Jonah a peck on the cheek.

Jonah leaned into him briefly moving away, hands tugging at his clothes as if he found them too tight. Ethan opened his mouth to say something but decided against it. If anyone needed to put some meat on their bones it was Jonah. He also knew how sensitive Jonah was to any kind of comments about his appearance. Any slight or criticism could send him into a tizzy for days. Had he inadvertently done or said something that might have hurt his feelings he wondered?

“What” Jonah demanded watching him, brows knitting together.

Shaking his head Ethan mumbled “nothing.”

Frowning Jonah looked at the eggs he was in the process of frying. “Did you want something else for breakfast?”

“Huh” Ethan jerked his head up as if he’d been in deep thought.

“Did you want something else” he repeated pointing at the eggs.

“Oh” he grinned “eggs are fine.”

“You sure” he asked poised to start over.

Instead of answering Ethan walked over to the toaster, put two slices in the top. “Something I know how to cook” he chuckled. He was rewarded with the sound of eggs being cracked. “Shall I take Eli to daycare today” frowning at the almost frightened look that came across Jonah’s expressive face.

“If you want to” he said swearing as he broke the yoke of one of the eggs from his hands trembling when he tried to turn them.

Watching him a moment Ethan sighed wondering what he’d done to make Jonah so jumpy. Taking the toast from the toaster he buttered it generously while they were still hot. “How about you and I go out tomorrow night? We haven’t had a night out in a while. I’ll ask my dad if he can babysit.”

Looking up his face a mixture of fear, concern and desire “if you think we can afford it. I’d like that.”

Moving around the kitchen he set the toast down on the counter. Walking over to Jonah, wrapping his arms around him, kissing his neck. “I know something’s bothering you. I won’t pester you with a bunch of questions.” He felt Jonah melt in his arms “I just want you to know you can tell me anything. Whatever it is we can figure it out together.”

“Ethan I think I’m….”

“Daddy” Eli called standing sleepy eyed in the kitchen doorway “I’m hungry.”

A frown of instant irritation appeared and vanished just as quickly as Ethan released Jonah to go to their son. Jonah knew then he couldn’t tell him. Not yet. Not until he knew for sure.

Previous/Next

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for bitching about fics I dislike on my blog?

as a foreword, this is kind of a non-issue and no one's ever told me to stop, but I'm curious what other people think of fandom etiquette.

the fandom: a fairly small one. 2.4k fics on ao3 small. I recognize most people posting in its tumblr tag small. if I tell you the name of the source you'd almost definitely be able to find me small.

the source: pornographic, which means everyone involved is or should be an adult. it's BL with a switch MC, but the fandom overwhelmingly prefers bottom MC/top LIs (love interests), to the point where I've had people be astonishingly rude to me because my favorite character is a bottom LI and some of my friends have been outright harassed for the same. I used to not care about sex positions in the slightest, but now when I see bottom MC fanworks I can't help but remember how poorly I was treated.

the fics: wildly and inexplicably popular, even though they are, frankly, poorly written. it's eternal bottom MC turned up to 11, complete with copious amounts of OOCness in order to turn every ship into the worst ye olde yaoi gender roles dynamic you can imagine. it's things like MC, canonically a 23yo plank of a dudeguy, being written as a big titted milf in his 40s (which is made more confusing by the fact that one of the LIs is already a big titted milf). it's also things like the MC being written as disliking sex and having to be coerced into it when one of the most charming things about him is that he's a hilarious sex pest, or writing the LIs sexually harassing the MC when they really would never do that. I've likened it to replacing the characters with OCs that share the same name and my friends have agreed with me. I'm honestly convinced that the author and his readers don't actually like any of the characters if they feel the need to change everyone so thoroughly.

why I might be an asshole: it's assholish to hate on free fanworks, and I've bitched about these fics on my public tumblr blog. the fandom is small enough that there's a non-zero chance of it getting back to the author and a reasonable chance that fans of the fics have seen my bitching. I'm probably projecting the hostility I've received onto someone who's done absolutely nothing to me, and I am absolutely just straight up jealous that their fics get better stats than mine. I may also be being an asshole to myself, because being critical of other people's fics has made my hypercritical of my own.

why I don't think I'm an asshole: I think everyone has the right to be bad at things, but I also think everyone has the right to be a little hater. I don't put the fandom tag on these posts; they stay on my blog and my blog alone, and if later on I feel like I was unfairly vitriolic I'll delete the posts. I only post on tumblr because I'm certain the author in question only uses twitter, which dramatically lowers the odds of him stumbling across my posts. the fics are so popular that it's definitely possible that their fans would see my posts, but I think it's unlikely that they'd bother looking at my blog because 99% of my posts are about one of the bottom LIs. I have never and would never leave comments on the fics themselves, and I generally try to keep the bitchy posts to a minimum; it's far from a constant thing.

tl;dr - I publicly bitch about fics that (in my opinion) are poorly written and extremely OOC, under the assumption that it's unlikely the author would ever see it. AITA?

What are these acronyms?

[solitude-of-stars]

Yesterday I got accused of using AI for my writing

At first, it simply baffled me. Then I thought about it for a while until I didn't really know what to think or feel anymore. Anger? Amusement? Resignation?

A bit of context:

This December I posted an Advent Calendar for the fandom I'm most active in. One fic a day for 24 days. Various ships and other relationships, various plots and AUs, and all that jazz. I'm assuming this is what the person is referring to by mentioning "mass production".

Now, I know there are people out there that actually write a fic a day. I might have even tried something like that had I been younger, but these days I'm working full time, I'm married, and I need to do annoying things like chores, so I definitely didn't have the time or mental capacity to do that. Instead, I started planning and writing the fics in mid October and it took me almost two months to finish all of them. I don't know exactly what mass production in the context of AI fic means, but I have a hunch that writing roughly 27k words in the span of two months is not that.

I am also not a native speaker. I've been writing fic on and off for over 15 years, but I've only really started writing in English less than two years ago. I take great pride in it, and I've always gotten very positive feedback. Not a lot (because my fandom is mostly dead by now), but whenever people comment, they are very kind and supportive.

Nevertheless, deep down I still expect criticism of my writing. Bad grammar, wrong use of idioms, awkward wordflow ... you name it, I've probably worried about it. There's this feeling that probably a lot of non-native speakers experience: that you have to be better than most native authors to even be considered good enough. Every little mistake, typo, every awkwardly written sentence is proof that you're 'faking it', and that people will see you for the fraud you actually are and tell you to just go back writing in the language you're used to. No one has ever actually told me that, fortunately, but it's a feeling that has been persistently nagging at me since I changed to writing in English.

So yeah, I expected criticism. I just didn't expect this particular brand of it.

I understand the concern about AI fanfics. Really, I do. I read about fandoms getting flooded by authors churning out fic after fic after fic. Personally, I am very lucky that the fandom I write for is so small that AI is basically non-existent (as far as I know). There's only been one author who openly wrote a fic by using generative AI, but the fandom collectively chose to ignore it. No hits, no comments, no interaction all together, until the author deleted the fic.

Now, the only use of AI one could maybe accuse me of is that of an online translator, in the rare case I'm searching for a word/sentence and it's not this abstract feeling but something I can actually pinpoint in my native tongue. But that's it. I've never even considered using AI for one of my fics, because writing has always been enjoyable to me. Why would I leave something that gives me joy to a machine to do it for me?

But, in all honesty, I don't think the bad part about the comment I got was that the person thought I might have been using AI. Because I know I didn't, and most of my readers know it as well.

No, the devastating part to me is that the person feels the quality of my fic can be compared to whatever it is AI would spit out. That's what's getting to me.

I don't actually mind constructive criticism. Maybe it's a generational thing, but I grew up on fanfiction sites where you were actively encouraged to tell the author how they could do better. There were how-to-write-comments that gave you pointers what to focus on, and what could be considered helpful constructive criticism.

Or maybe this is actually a cultural thing. Coming from a country of people that are generally considered very -and sometimes uncomfortably - honest, I don't mind people telling me if there's something specific I could improve on. Will it sting? Yeah. But keep it nice and civil, and I won't be angry at you for it - I'll appreciate it.

Comparing my writing to, or even accusing it of being written by AI, feels like something entirely different. It's a very simple way of saying that what I write is something even below mediocrity. That it reads like it was written by an algorithm that can't understand and will never experience human feelings. Can't comprehend emotions, something that can't be captured by lots of 1s and 0s. Equates me to a thing that takes the stories and feelings other people created, before bunching it all up into one big pile of words, lifeless and replaceable.

And that's what's getting to me. I always thought my fics were good. Not great, but good enough that I personally enjoy rereading them. Writing helped me through some hard times, helped me find joy in creating again, something I remember from when I was younger but hadn't felt all throughout college. Writing was fun, a wonderful way to pass the time, and a way to connect with other people who enjoy the same nerdy stuff as me.

Now I don't feel like writing anymore.

Some people will probably say I'm exaggerating. That it's just one comment among many positive ones. And they'll be right. It's only one comment, but just like one bad day can make you feel like all the good ones you accumulated before don't matter, one bad comment can negate all the positive ones.

Fortunately, I had many people come to my defense already. Geat people that keep telling me I have worth. That congratulated me for writing 24 fics in time, that tell me I improve with every fic I write, and that never get tired of being simply awesome human beings. I'm lucky to have them.

My anxiety keeps telling me they're all wrong. That the one person is right, and that I should just stop trying. That I'm not good enough, that I will never be good enough, and that it's a miracle I've managed to fool them this long anyway.

Now, I will get over it. I know I will. I'll meet my friends and celebrate New Year's, I'll read a good book, listen to some music, play some Skyrim, and, before I know it, I'll be back in the mood for more writing. I can handle it. Because my enjoyment will be more important, in the end.

But you know who wouldn't have gotten over it this easily?

16 year old me. She would have been completely gutted over getting a comment like this. And I know there are many teens like her out there who are probably getting similar comments on their fics. And they don't deserve this.

So I guess what I want to say with my elaborate rambling is this:

Please stay kind. I know, AI is terribe, and seeing people using it to do something that you enjoy, and take over all those safe spaces we have built for ourselves, flooding carefully curated and beloved tags, is incredibly frustrating. And I'm afraid that I don't have a solution for that.

But please think twice before throwing around accusations like the one I've gotten. Maybe you actually find somebody who secretly used AI. They probably won't care enough to stop. But more likely you'll find someone who's just taking their first steps, deciding to write and post something they care about. That takes incredible courage, especially for people that write in a language that isn't their native one. They simply want to reach people, want to interact with them in a way that wouldn't be possible in their own language.

Don't ruin it for them.