#because it seems to me like you’re just going off misconceptions

[a-polite-melody]

Huh??????

[grandline-fics]

Hi, Hi, Thank you for answering! Since you said you accepted multiples characters i may ask for Ace, Zoro, Shanks if possible Marco with a s/o who during their relationship never show any signs of jealousy nor even possessiveness, very laidback. Yet one day/night, the boys just witnessed their s/o jealousy for the first time. And if possible the s/o’s jealousy is mostly staying deadly quiet with a disappointed gaze, but not cold treatment though. Or something like that? Thank you, thank you, I hope I did not asked characters you aren’t comfortable with :(

DESCRIPTION: They finally see you jealous

WARNINGS: some slight angst but it all ends happily for everyone

CHARACTERS: Ace, Shanks, Marco

WORDS: 2,453

A/N: Thank you for this request! I hope each scenario was different enough for you and that you're happy with the result for this ask

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

MASTERLIST | PROMPT LIST

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ACE

If Ace were to find a partner, he couldn’t get anyone better than you. You were his closest friend before you both became aware of your deep romantic feelings for the other and both confessed, allowing things to effortlessly progress into a romantic relationship. With you Ace knows he is safe and free to be himself, just as you can be yourself without judgement. Because you were both friends before becoming a couple, you both are content to spend time together while also being apart. You both can spend an evening in a bar with the other Whitebeard Pirates and hardly say a word to each other until its time for you both to return to the ship. Because of the fact neither of you cling to the other for the entirety of the night, it can lead to some misconceptions about the relationship you both have to an outsider.

One evening you returned to the Moby Dick after being sent out on a solo mission by Pops. As usual the deck was lively and filled with laughter and chatter. You noticed some new faces to the crew, making a note to properly introduce yourself to the new recruits after you spoke to Pops. On your approach you slowed to see one recruit standing very close to Ace, who merely smiled at them with his usual friendly smile. While he couldn’t see the lust in his admirer’s eyes you could see it clearly. “So you’re my commander? I’m so lucky to be under someone as handsome as you.” She smirked and Ace laughed, while you rolled your eyes, continuing to walk forward. 

Marco spotted your approach first and called out your name in greeting. Immediately Ace looked over excitedly only for his smile to drop when he spotted the look in your gaze. Normally you were as excited as he was when you were reunited but now you seemed almost disappointed. Worry flipped in his stomach and he reached out towards you but instinctively you pulled your arm away and continued to walk. “I have to talk to Pops first. I’ll catch up with you after.”

“Looks like someone’s in the doghouse.” Izou teased when he knew you were out of earshot. 

“Can you blame them? They go for a couple weeks and come back to Ace flirting with another person.” Marco chimed in with a feigned look of disapproval while Ace became panicked and looked between his fellow Division Commanders. Did you really think that? Was he really in trouble? Worse still, was his relationship with you at risk because he hadn’t realised one of the recruits was flirting with him again?

Acting on impulse he immediately raced up the deck and slid to a halt beside you, hooking an arm around your waist and hauling you off of your feet. “Sorry, Pops! Emergency!” he called out over your shouts, ignoring them and the whooping cheers as he carried you below deck to your shared room to speak in private. When you were set on your feet you lightly shoved Ace. “What the hell did you do that for?” You demanded only to blink in surprise when Ace threw himself onto his knees and wrapped his arms around your waist, staring up at you in desperation. “Please don’t end things with me! I promise you’re the only one I want, I’d never throw what we have away. I swear I didn’t flirt back. I’d never-” 

“I know Ace.” You stopped his rambling with a small smile and lightly setting your hand on his cheek. “You never realise when anyone flirts with you. This isn’t the first time I’ve seen someone throw themselves at you.”

“But that look on your face…and Izou and Marco said I was in the doghouse…”

“Yeah I don’t like seeing someone flirt with you but I know you’re loyal to me.” You shrugged. “As for those two, they’re just bored. I wasn’t going to get mad at you for not realising someone wanted to get with you. I trust you Ace.”

“If you were mad at me though…”

“I’d tell you.” You promised before pinching his cheek and scowling. “For example, I’m not happy you dragged me away while I was in the middle of talking to Pops. But I’ll forgive you just this once because of how worried you were.” You smiled to see the relief in Ace’s eyes and suddenly became aware of the strain in your neck. “Now would you please get up and welcome me home properly?” With a grin, Ace adjusted his hold on you and quickly pulled you down to instead settle on his lap so he could lovingly pepper your face with kissed before finally kissing you with all the love he could convey. Despite you promising you were fine he needed to show that you were the only one he ever wanted this way. 

SHANKS

“Oh Captain’s got his hands full again….or rather hand full.” You glanced across the bar as you entered the building to see what Lucky had been talking about and your sights zeroed in on the swarm of women around your Captain. Any that hadn’t been able to grab a chair at the table, stood excitedly close all of them listening to the current tale of adventure the crew had been on. Everyone in the crew, including yourself were used to this occurrence. Of course they’d be drawn to the handsome Captain with the roguish smile. You’d been drawn to it and fallen for his charm so you couldn’t exactly blame anyone else for it too. 

Despite that you still couldn’t help the foreign, uncomfortable feeling stirring in you at the sight. Up until a few months ago, you would have joined in with the rest of the crew, teasing your popular Captain but since then you’d fallen for him and started a relationship with Shanks which some of the crew still weren’t completely aware of. Jealousy wasn’t something you’d ever really felt before seeing as your previous relationship were flings at best and you and your partner knew as much. What you had with Shanks however felt different and because of the fact neither of you had made it public or put a label on what was going on between you both, it made the feeling even more uneasy at the sight in front of you. 

You walked with Lucky Roux to Shanks’ table just as he finished his story. At your approach Shanks’ eyes lit up and he grinned at you from behind his mug. “You two have some catching up to do.” He joked, while Lucky grinned and reached for the filled mug of ale offered to him, you nodded slightly and took your own with less enthusiasm as you normally would. Immediately Shanks’ suspicions were heightened, while his carefree smile remained the look in his eyes sharpened as he observed you drink steadily. A couple of the newer members of the crew rose from their seats to let you and Lucky sit at Shanks’ table out of respect to you both. Lucky took his seat without hesitation whereas you smiled and shook your head gently. Instead you drained your mug and turned to go to the bar for a refill. Shanks’ eyebrow quirked slightly and his fingers drummed against his mug while he watched you in concern. “Were there any issues Lucky?”

“Not a one, Cap’n. Ship got restocked without problem and the locals reported no trouble since our last visit here. Everyone’s happy.” Lucky reported with his usual smile before returning to his own conversation with Hongo. Shanks glanced at you from across the room again, watching as even with your new drink, you remained by the bar, sipping it slowly and staring at nothing. Shanks finished off his drink and moved to stand only for one of the women fawning over him put a hand on his shoulder, insisting they’d go and get the drink for him only for the others to pipe up too, leading them to bicker over who would get him a refill. “No, no, I’ll go myself, it’s fine. You all stay and Ben here will tell you of my best battle, won’t you Ben?”

At the promise of another story, Shanks was able to get away from the table without being followed by his admirers and he let out a sigh when he was out from the crowded presences and now standing beside you, fully noticing the difference he felt in the comparison of the two feelings. While he waited for the bartender to see to him, he glanced at you and saw your far-off look. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

“I’m staying close to the alcohol so I can catch up like you ordered me to Captain.” Your answer was even and detached, your gaze remaining on nothing in particular on the opposite wall. 

“You’ve got me worried, love.” At that pet-name you finally looked at Shanks. Unable to help yourself you glanced behind him to the table filled with people still waiting for him to return before returning your stare to his face. 

“It wasn’t my intention to worry you or ruin your fun. I was keeping my distance specifically to avoid that.” You explained and Shanks finally realised what the problem was. You were jealous, over them? People who paled in comparison to you in every way. 

“My fun’s only ruined if you’re not with me.” Shanks murmured closing the small space between you both. He saw the hesitancy in your eyes and he gave you a reassuring smile before securing his arm around your waist and kissing you deeply, the action dispelling the unease you’d been feeling instantly. Over the sound of the crew whistling and shouts of others to pay up because of a bet neither you or Shanks were aware of you broke apart from the kiss and smile when he lay his head against yours. “Should’ve done this a long time ago when I finally got you.” 

MARCO

You knew what you were getting into when you and Marco gave into your attraction for each other. You knew that his time would be taken up mostly with caring for Pops on a daily basis and the other members of the crew when they were sick or injured. Any free time he would have was precious and you were never possessive of that. When he was able to spend time with you he did and your patience was alway appreciated from him. Sometimes when he’s overloaded with work you stop by to offer him some food and sit in his office for an hour or so, just to enjoy each other’s presence. You don’t need to talk, just being there is enough for you both. 

On this occasion you hadn’t seen Marco because of a nasty flu making its way through some of the crew and after a few days without seeing his face, you’d grown to miss him. So you made your way to the medical office and your step faltered when you heard the familiar sound of his laughter coming from inside. Lightly you knocked on the door once and entered the room to see one of the nurses standing beside Marco as he sat at his desk. You smiled warmly when Marco seemed happy to see you but your smile fell when you spotted the empty plate on his desk. “Ah, you’ve already eaten.”

“Of course he has.” The nurse giggled, smiling at Marco playfully. “Though he would have forgotten if it wasn’t for me. As amazing as he is as a Doctor, he’s hopeless at looking after himself.”

“He’s lucky you’re here to look after for him then.” You said, unable to sound as cheerful as the nurse. Clearing your throat you looked down at the small plate of food you’d brought for your boyfriend. You knew nothing was going on between him or any of the nurses that worked closely alongside him but you still felt the jealousy growing in your chest. This was a small thing you could do for Marco and you felt childish for feeling stung that he didn’t need you. You didn’t like the feeling and needed to distance yourself from the cause. “I’m glad you’ve eaten so I’ll let you get back to your work. Don’t let him overwork himself, okay?” You forced the joke out with a tight smile while the nurse smiled brightly and nodded in joy that you were trusting her. Marco watched silently as you turned and left him. Even with his tiredness, he could still see something was wrong with you. 

As soon as he completed the current task on his desk, Marco stood and stretched. After working without resting for these days, he knew no-one would begrudge him a break away from his office. Stretching out he walked through the corridors until he was walking into the room he shared with you. You looked up in surprise from your lounged spot on the sofa. Before you could react, Marco was crawling onto the sofa and laying ontop of you, his head resting against your chest as his arms encircled you, holding you close. “Marco, what are you-”

“You left far too quickly.” Marco groaned out, now that he was lying down he realised just how uncomfortable sitting at his desk was. “I missed you, sorry I was cooped up in my office all this time.”

“You’re don’t need to apologise for that Marco.”

“I feel like I do need to say sorry for something though.” he admitted, lifting his head slightly to look at you with concern. “You didn’t seem yourself when you stopped by.”

“It’s not you, it’s me.” You promised, gently running your fingers through his hair. Under his patient stare you sighed and continued. “I’m not a doctor like you or trained in anything medical. For the most part I’m fine with that because I’m good in other ways but it’s just when you are overworking yourself there’s not much I can do to help you. One of those things is taking care of you and making sure you’re eating. It’s silly but it made me jealous to see someone else doing that for you.”

“It’s not silly at all. We can’t help our emotions but I’m glad you were able to talk to me about it.” Marco smiled, taking your hand to press a loving kiss against your wrist. “Never feel like you’re replaceable. I’m only ever able to rest like this because of your influence over me. No one looks after me the way you can and you’re the only one I want.”

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[biolumien]

hello!! I loved your rooftop smoke fic so much oh my goodness could I ask for literally anything hoshina I would love to read more of your works... It would make my day if hoshina fell first/if he was the one hopelessly in love but anything that is easier to write for you I would love to read

ALSO PLS FEEL FREE TO IGNORE THIS IF ITS NOT EXACTLY IT FOR U!!! TYSM IN ADVANCE

notes: bwahhhh omg… thank you for liking my first work…  i havent written hoshina before… but uh. i hope this is good. same reader-insert from last time for this one too!

hoshina falls first (or tries not to, because to love is to be known)

soshiro hoshina x gn!reader i turned it into kind of a character study, forgive me word count: 1103

let’s get this right off the bat, to clear any misconceptions. hoshina’s not a romantic. he doesn’t fall for anyone first. he’s built up the demeanor of a sly, wily little fox not because he wanted to, but because he had to. tread lightly around others, and they will never know what lies in your heart, the insecurities that bubble and eat at you alive. never let them know how you feel, because as soon as your inherent, weak-willed intent is shown, you’ll be devoured alive.

well.

that’s what hoshina tells himself, anyway. 

it’s what he has to remind himself of constantly when he sees you.

you’re not allowed, he reminds himself, to get under his skin. not in any mean way, not in the way where you play up his insecurities–except you do, don’t you? you don’t mean to, but he gets the impression that if he were conventionally stronger, more impressive, that he’d deserve your attention, the small smile that crosses your lips and lights up your eyes when you see him, the faint exhale of breath when you see him–he’d deserve that if he were better. if he were just simply better, he’d deserve it. he’d feel worthy of it.

hoshina’s not a romantic.

he signed up for a line of very dangerous, practically suicidal work knowing it might mean the death of him.

all to prove that he was worth something.

he’s not the ashes you throw away, he’s a brilliant ball of fire, can’t you see–but he needed to prove that he could shine alone, under his own merit. he didn’t need anyone, except he needed mina to get him into the third division anyway. 

he didn’t need you, except he kept making excuses to get close to you, and not even in any particular suave way. hoshina practically pines for your affections and attention, but the key thing about it is that he refuses, in a way that’s either very cute or insanely frustrating, to make it seem like he’s making the first move. fleeting kisses he shared with you, he never properly initiated himself–he’d stand there, make a big show of leaving, and you’d pulled him by the collar to kiss him. 

but at the very least you seem to be accommodating about it, in any case. you sometimes end up preparing him a cup of tea when you go on break, as if instinctually expecting him.

hoshina wonders if he’s pavlov’s dog in this case–drawn by you, trained to behave around you.

he doesn’t know how he feels about it.

“you keep coming here,” you say to him one day in the lab. at your desk is a wide variety of papers–notes on chemical formulas for bullets, the blueprints for one of mina’s new absurdly-large guns shoved haphazardly under a stack of notebooks, a coffee cup clasped between your hands, and you blow some of the fresh steam off. “i’m starting to think the captain’s going to find you slacking off.”

there’s a sardonic smile on your lips, but hoshina’s gotten better at reading you. you’re happy to see him–he can see it in the tiny way you fidget a little bit when he takes the spare coffee mug from your desk, finding it full of coffee already. does he feel his face softening, his drawn-up shoulders relaxing? no, surely not. he’s better than that. he won’t be influenced by you–and yet. and yet. 

“you have a lock on your door if you don’t want to be disturbed,” hoshina says simply, taking a sip of the coffee. black with a single spoonful of sugar in it, because as much as it was impressive to drink your coffee purely black, hoshina quite frankly couldn’t take it. and he’d built as much a complex around that, too, as if a simple coffee preference might define how worthy he is of love. respect. the works. he watches you, sees dark under-eyes from days of restless work and the writer’s bump on your middle finger, and feels his heart squeeze.

god, he hates it. does he? does he hate it? is he insecure about that? does he hate that he doesn’t hate it? does he hate that by pining for you, by forcing his way into your life, that he’s created the rumblings of his own downfall? no. the worst part of it all is that he can’t hate you. can’t hate the way you watch him, and he wonders if you’re watching him the same way he observes you–like a prey animal, almost, twitchy and nervous, in an attempt to grasp at feeble understanding. 

“if you keep coming back here, i’m going to assume you’re in love with me,” you say.

and you have no idea what those words do to him, really. you don’t know, because hoshina has learned to obscure most of his emotions, at the very least. 

so why does his face feel so hot?

“hm.”

he can’t even come up with a proper retort. you’re staring at him expectantly, as if waiting for the classic hoshina quip–a cackle or giggle, a casual slap on the table with a you wish! attached to it. but it doesn’t come. hoshina stands there, gagged for a moment–and suddenly his grip on his coffee cup feels a little weak.

“hoshina.”

he wishes the smile on your lips didn’t trigger some gut instinct of delight in him.

he’s better than this, damn it. he’s better than this.

your smile quirks up the corners of your cheeks, and there’s something like a shy flush across your skin. and–

“i wish i could take a picture of your face right now,” you say. “you look like you’re coming down with something.”

hoshina scoffs, the sound a little more high-pitched than he’d like for it to be.

“you wish,” he says. 

“so are you?” you press. “in love with me?”

hoshina stares at you–there’s a sudden tightness in your shoulders that wasn’t there before–you’re worried about his answer. and despite it all–his bravado, his hatred of the mere idea that he might rely on someone else–that he would ever need someone to know his heart, that he might be cowed and tamed like a dog–

he loves you.

he doesn’t want you to be worried about the surety of his answer.

“yeah,” he says. “i love you.” and when that sudden tightness in your body language disappears, he finally finds the strength to quip, “just don’t faint over me, alright?” 

and when you reach out to hit his shoulder, he grasps you by the wrist and pulls you in to kiss you.

[hischierswhore]

clingy

pairing: Lando Norris x gf!Reader

tw: none

a/n: me? writing fluff for once? well it's semi fluff. kinda like a comfort fic?? maybe? i don't really know tbh

You and Lando enjoyed hanging out with friends. Whether it was his friends or yours, you both had a great time regardless. There were also times when you would hang out with your friends alone and he would hang out with his friends alone, which of course you had no problem with. You’ve been together for 8 months now, so you had plenty of security in your relationship.

Lando currently had a few of the other drivers over at his house. All the drivers were on holiday so you were able to spend some time with Lando before he had to go back to his hectic race schedule. Unbeknownst to everyone except your boyfriend, you were upstairs watching “The Summer I Turned Pretty” on your TV.

Midway through the first two episodes, you got hungry so you went downstairs to get a snack. Just as you approached the bottom, you heard someone mention your name.

 “Is anyone elses girlfriend super clingy?” Charles asked

“Kika and I just spend a lot of time together” Pierre added

“Y/n is sometimes clingy. It can be a bit overwhelming at times” Lando answered. You heard your name and frowned as you took in his words. You were overwhelmingly clingy? You barely ever saw him.

Hearing that, you turned around and made your way back up the stairs, your appetite suddenly gone as you rushed to pack your bag and leave.

“Oh shut up, mate. Y/n is not clingy from what I’ve seen. Usually it’s you jumping on her for comfort, not the other way around. You’re absolutely whipped” George threw a bouncy ball at Lando’s head.

“Yeah I know, I’m only joking. She’s just so perfect. I love her” Lando blushed as he grabbed the bouncy ball and threw it back at George.

Just then you quietly made your way down the stairs and brushed past the group of guys without a single word as you crossed through the living room to get to the front door.

“Where are you going, love?” Lando stood up from his seat and walked towards you, grabbing your wrist to halt your movements. You turned around to face him.

“I uhm- forgot I have to go walk my sister’s turtle. Bye” You said the first lie you could come up with as you pulled your wrist out of his hold and turned around. You opened the front door and shut it behind you, praying that Lando wouldn’t follow.

Lando turned around and went back to his spot on the couch.

“Is that a thing people do here? Walking turtles?” Pierre asked, confusion written all over his face as he looked around the group for an answer.

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Ever since that night, you hadn’t been over to Lando’s house. He would call and text you to make plans, but you would come up with excuses to not be able to go. You didn’t want to seem any clingier than you supposedly were, according to Lando’s words.

After nearly a week of avoiding Lando, he’d had enough of it. You were in the process of making yourself some pancakes when your doorbell rang. You turned the stove off as your grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around your shoulders, since you were lounging around in a sports bra and shorts. You couldn’t see anything through the little peep hole so you opened the door, shocked to see Lando standing there with flowers in hand.

The smile that was once on Lando’s face turned into a frown when he saw the blanket wrapped around your body.

“Oh baby, are you feeling ill?” He was genuinely concerned. He thought you had the blanket around you because you were sick, and you still weren’t fully up to seeing him, so you joined in on his misconception.

“Yeah, I’ve got a massive cold. I don’t want to get you sick too” You made your voice sound as scratchy as possible before pretending to cough.

“I don’t care if I get sick. Let me take care of you” He said as he pushed himself into your flat. He grabbed one of your arms and dragged you to the couch, where he grabbed both of your shoulders and pushed you into a sitting position. He ran across your flat to your bathroom to get the thermometer so he could check your temperature. You knew you’d be screwed if he actually checked.

He came back moments later, the little green thermometer in hand as he took the clear cover off.

“So uhm… I don’t exactly know how to work this” Lando held the tool in his hand, trying to figure out how to use it.

“No worries. I’m just not feeling great” You fake coughed again. Lando placed the thermometer on the coffee table in front of the couch and placed his hand on your forehead. All you could think was ‘shit’.

“You feel normal. What’s going on, love?” He asked as he slowly sat down next to you.

“What do you mean?” Your voice was back to normal, yet it was quieter than it usually was.

 “You’re being all distant and shutting me out. We haven’t seen each other much. I just…did I do something?” He asked, the hurt in his voice evident as he spoke.

“I’m giving you a break” You answered and he just stared at you.

“Wh—what? A break?” He asked.

 “ Yeah, a break. I heard what you and the other drivers were saying the other night, Lando. I didn’t-” you took a moment to breathe.

 “I didn’t know that I was somehow clingy and that it bothered you” Your voice cracked as a tear streamed down your face.

He wrapped you in his arms and held you as you cried into his shirt.

“Oh my god. Let me explain everything, okay love?” He said as he slowly let go of you.

 “I did say that but what you probably didn’t hear is that I said it was a joke. You wanna know what I told them?” He said and you nodded your head.

 “I told them that I love you and that you’re perfect, because I truly do love you. You’re my girl forever. And if anyone’s clingy in this relationship, it’s quite obvious that it’s me” He joked, hoping to get a smile out of you. You laughed at his words, which resulted in a smile erupting on both your face and his. He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead before engulfing you in a hug.

“I love you. I can’t stand seeing you so upset like this. Plus the house was so lonely without you. Let’s go home?” He asked.

Home.

You always thought home was a physical place, a location. It turns out you’d found you home eight months ago.

“Home is wherever you are” You pressed a soft kiss to his lips before resting your head on his shoulder.

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BONUS

“By the way, you’ve made Pierre question whether or not walking a turtle is a real thing”

“If Pierre was confused, I know for a fact that Charles was just as confused. Plus I’ve seen people do it on TikTok, so I guess it’s a real thing”

“I also feel like they would be the type of people to actually walk around Monaco with a turtle on a leash”

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side note: rip to the pancake Y/n was making before Lando showed up

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taglist

@firehazardxx @judesgfirl @celestialams @xjval @chelseagirl98

[astonmartingf]

MAKE BELIEVE ; LH44

— people assuming you’re a couple is a common misconception whenever you’re out together, most of the time you shrug it off but every now and then lewis acts along making you feel some type of way you’ve never felt before

masterlist

The first time it happened you were both teenagers, Lewis was home after competing in the British Formula 3, you two on your way to some gasoline station for snacks. You could barely remember what exactly happened yet the memory seemed to linger in your head whenever you think about it.

On your way to pay for the food, Lewis stopped you- “I’ll pay for these.”

You frowned, pushing him lightly away from the counter. “No. This is my celebration for you, there’s no way you’re paying.” You smile at the lady, placing the tub of ice cream and chips on the counter.

Lewis on the other hand was not having it, “Okay if it’s my celebration it’s only fair I pay for half of it.”

Raising your brows you shake your head disagreeing with his statement, “That’s not how it works Lew- just let me have it. We barely see each other, let me buy you a bag of chips and ice cream.”

Shaking his head Lewis contemplates before leaving towards the back of the store. A sigh left your lips before facing the clerk, listening in your conversation. “Are you two in a long distance relationship?”

You gawk as your arms scramble into a wave, head shaking, repeatedly saying “No, no, no… We’re just friends. It’s been a while since we met since he’s busy racing all over Europe, someday he’ll be a Formula 1 driver!”

Your excitement over the moon, at the thought of Lewis getting into the big tracks all over the world. “That’s exciting, what about you sweetheart?”

You shrug, nose scrunching, unable to answer the question, “Nothing special, just studying.”

The lady nods as she puts the items in a bag, “Well, I’m sure it’s not nothing. He must be lucky to have a supportive friend like you.”

You smile as the conversation turns back to Lewis, somehow it’s easy to talk about him, you could go on and on praising and telling the whole world about him. You smile, taking the change from her hands.

From the corner, Lewis comes back with two bottles of drink in his hands. “If you’re buying the food, let me pay for the drinks.”

Rolling your eyes you reluctantly agree letting him buy drinks for you two. On the way out he grabs the bag from your hand, carrying it as he lets you lead the way to the local park in the area.

The second time it happened was on your birthday dinner, during one of his free days, he asked you out for a celebratory dinner. “Just the two of us, like the old times.” Lewis raised his glass as you tip yours to his.

“It’s definitely been a while since we sat and talked, how is Formula 1 treating you?” Lewis blew raspberries, shaking his head.

“This is your day, we’re not talking about racing. How are you? Is university treating you well?”

You sense his deflection from the topic, during breaks you find yourself checking updates on Lewis’ race. Many articles are written about him, rumors and hearsay about him, but you’re not one to believe what’s written, rather listen to what he has to say.

“This is us catching up, I’m supposed to ask you questions as well.”

Lewis nods his head, “Answer my question first then I’ll tell you what’s up.”

Knowing you’ll never win against him, you humor him with stories from university, all the drama and chaos that is happening in your internship program.

Lewis tilts his head, grimacing at the details of your professor Andy and his unconventional methods of teaching, which led to two students fighting during class. Laughing, Lewis takes a sip of his drink, “Aren’t I glad I skipped out on college drama.”

This time it was you who laughed at his statement, “Yeah, because racing drama is way much better, and on a bigger scale.” you whisper as Lewis gives you a pointed look.

“You read some stuff, now tell me what it is that you’re so desperate to know?”

You shake in excitement as you tread your thoughts on the questions you prepared to ask him, the top of your head, the rumors of him dating a certain Pussycat Dolls singer. But as you opened your mouth, you were cut off by a string of waiters bringing in cake in the direction of your table, singing “Happy Birthday” catching you off-guard.

“What is this Lewis?” You hiss under your breath, staring at him in bewilderment before smiling politely at the waiters clapping along to them singing.

After their song, they placed a chocolate cake slice in front of you with a lit candle. Staring expectedly at you, “Hey, this only happens once a year. Now go make a wish and blow your candle.”

You laugh at Lewis who gestured towards the cake in front of you. You laugh, shaking your head as you blow the candles. Hearing the cheers of the waiters and Lewis, thanking him with a side hug.

“Do you want us to take a photo of you and your boyfriend to commemorate this moment?” One of the waiters spoke, holding a digital camera in his hand.

“We’re not-” You glance over at Lewis who was already posing, clearly brushing off the comment, “yes you can.”

The waiter nods his head gesturing you to move closer together, looking straight at the camera with a small smile on your face. After a few more pictures the waiters left, leaving you alone with Lewis.

“So what was it that you wanted to ask?”

You shake your head, “Now I forgot about it, maybe next time.”

Lewis smiles before taking a bite of your cake, “Happy Birthday YN, Cheers to us and here’s to more memories with you.”

A small smile breaks the line of your lips, as you take in a small bite of the cake.

Other times it just happens as you go out on walks together. The amount of times you’ve been stopped by elderly women telling how “you look so good together” or been asked, “how long have you two been dating each other?”

Which often leads to the both of you laughing, you more awkwardly, as you shake your heads and deny.

There were awkward moments especially back when Lewis was still dating, the efforts you made as to not be seen with him out of respect and only coming when there are many people invited.

Now in the present, it’s obviously easier to smile and shake off their statements. You’ve gotten used to being asked and it’s almost automatic, the response, your hands waving, head shaking and saying “No.”

It’s been so long, surely you would’ve gotten used to it, especially when Lewis was keen to play along as a couple after you’ve gotten stopped a couple of times. One thing which you’re always against doing, and Lewis respects that.

You never thought about it more than a harmless prank, knowing that people don’t have to know your real relationship- because it was clear to both of you that you are friends. Then and now, but in the eyes of the others it may seem that you’re a couple.

One which you don’t understand, can’t people be friends these days? But it’s not like you can see the honey-dripping off of Lewis’ eyes when he looks at you, prioritizing you when you’re out in public, and doing polite gestures to you. It was normal for you- his actions, you grew up with him, and you certainly watched Lewis grow up to be a fine man.

And you can’t deny how that affected you as the people around you seem to wonder if you haven’t felt that way towards Lewis. And as much as you hate to admit, there are times where he has made your heart flutter.

Once in the Mercedes garage, you were on your way to pick up Roscoe volunteering to look after him. It wasn’t your first time there, but it wasn’t like you were the closest with everyone. You knew a few people, enough to ask for help when you’re lost during the bustling race days. Entering the hospitality, Roscoe must’ve sensed you as he ran over to greet you, patting him on the head, “You missed didn’t you? Where is your father, why are you alone?”

Your eyes wander looking around the hospitality for Lewis. “Excuse me, do you have a pass to be in here?” Raising your head you notice a male staff in front of you. “Oh, I do have it in my bag if you want to check, I’m just waiting for someone.”

Turning around you looked for your pass, but before you could show it to the male staff he disregarded your presence asking you to leave. “Excuse me?”

“I asked you to leave the vicinity please. This is exclusive for VIP and guests, fans can wait outside.”

You stand frozen, bewildered even. Pressing your lips in a thin line you contemplate on what or how to react. Usually you’d rather keep your peace and leave quietly, but it’s not like you don’t have a pass. You are a guest of Lewis.

Sighing, you stare at the male staff, looking him in his eyes showing him your pass. “I am a guest of Lewis Hamilton, I think I can wait right here.”

Despite showing your pass the staff seemed suspicious continuing to ask you questions about your relationship with Lewis, as if the pass wasn’t enough proof. “So, are you like dating him or something?”

You scoff at his statement, rolling your eyes, you take a deep breath going over the response you’ve formulated in your head to shut him off. “My relationship-”

“Yes, she’s with me. Thank you for showing your hospitality.” Lewis appeared from behind, his snarky comment didn’t go unnoticed by you as you snorted by the side.

“I missed you sweetheart, I see that Roscoe came running towards you. I completely lost him inside.” Pulling you into a hug, Lewis gave you a small peck on the cheek ignoring the presence of the staff with us.

“Thank you, I had that handled but somehow you always appear at the right time.”

“I know you can handle it, but there’s no need for you to explain to anyone why you’re here. And I don’t care if it’s about formality or whatever, next time just call me and I’ll come pick you up, or I can ask one of the people from my team to get you.”

You laughed, shaking your head, “You don’t have to do that, I barely go on races, it's fine. I’m just here to pick Roscoe up like I promised.”

Lewis nodded his head, grabbing the bag on the sofa with Roscoe’s name embroidered in the handle. “I’ll walk you to the garage?”

You shake your head, “No need, I actually came from the back like you asked so my car is right outside.” Lewis smiled before handing you Roscoe’s leash.

“I’ll walk you to your car then, I’ll help you bring Roscoe’s stuff.”

Inside your car you settle Roscoe at the back seat, turning on the ignition you hear the soft rumble of the car. From your car mirror, you watch Lewis wave you and Roscoe goodbye.

Outside the circuit, you think back on the situation that had transpired, “Your dad is a sweetheart isn’t he Roscoe? Got me feeling some type of way… Lewis… I’m glad we’re friends.” talking to yourself knowing fully there’s no way you’d admit that to Lewis himself, instead you open up to his dog.

Opening the app on his phone, Lewis watches you drive away safely through the lens inside Roscoe’s leash. There had been many moments he saw between you and Roscoe, including your conversation with the male staff.

It was something he checked every now and then, especially when he’s away from Roscoe. Rest assured, he feels safe knowing he’s left in your hands. Ensuring you two are safe, Lewis swiped to exit the app but not before he heard your voice through the speaker.

“Your dad is a sweetheart isn’t he Roscoe? Got me feeling some type of way… Lewis… I’m glad we’re friends.”

Lewis let out a breathy laugh,leaning back into his seat, the corners of his mouth pulling up into a big smile. Pressing his hands into his face, he feels the rush of heat into his face laughing to himself. “If only you knew sweetheart… Got me feeling some type of way as well…”

At least now Lewis knows, his feelings won’t lead him astray.

[spnbangbang]

Werewolf and the Vamp

Author: queerwerewolf

Artist: sidewinder

Primary Ship: Garth Fitzegerald IV/Benny Lafitte

Other Ships: Past Dean Winchester/Benny Lafitte, Past Garth Fitzgerald IV/Bess Fitzgerald, Implied Castiel/Dean Winchester

Length: 10,098

Warnings: Canon Typical Violence

Tags: Canon Compliant Through Season 15 Episode 10, Canon Divergent/Adjacent, Finale Fix It, You're Welcome, Romance, Smut, Handjobs, Oral Sex, Outdoor Sex, Anal Sex, No Prep, Unsafe Sex, Top Garth/Bottom Benny, Werepire Lovin’, Yes the Title is Meant to Remind You of Lady and the Tramp, Love is a Battlefield, Literally

Posting Date: November 22, 2024

Summary The world is coming to an end, Chuck has gone full blown cartoon villain, and is destroying every universe in a temper tantrum of epic proportions. The Winchester brothers may have a solution, which includes a very special ingredient from Purgatory. The blood of a creature that has been sent to Purgatory twice. It just so happens, Dean knows a vampire with those exact qualifications.

When Garth is asked to go to Purgatory to find this vampire and help the Winchesters face off with the biggest bad of them all, he isn’t the type to say no, especially when every universe is on the line. What Garth doesn’t expect is to find so much more than a world saving ingredient. Excerpt “So, what I’m hearin’ is, you’re single?”

To Benny’s pleasant surprise, Garth’s response was damned adorable, his cheeks coloring a rich red as his heart rate spiked. He cleared his throat and simply nodded, again ducking Benny’s gaze. “Yeah, I… I guess I am.”

With a soft huff of laughter, Benny pursed his lips in amusement. “Don’t you worry, I was just askin’. Meant nothin’ by it.”

Another surprise; Garth then appeared a little disappointed from the journey of his facial expressions. A worried lip that released with a small bounce, turning into an almost pout before his features were schooled to a more neutral position. “Ye–yeah… Of course. I knew that.” The intonation was the first time Benny heard a lack of confidence and assuredness this wolf seemed to exude without any damn effort.

Benny kept his gaze trained on Garth for a beat. Time really was strange in Purgatory, what would simply be a handful of seconds, could feel like minutes… hours even. There was a strained tension in the air, and not just because this place was crawling with cretins and leviathan. Finally, Benny said, “If you want me to’ve meant somethin’ by it, I ain’t opposed.”

Garth’s eyebrows popped up to that ugly hat brim and he quickly pulled the thing from his head, bracing it over his lap as those baby blues widened. His fangs grew a little and Benny could hear the rhythm of his elevated heart rate. It reminded him of a sea shanty from a life once lived. “You… what?”

Damn, Benny really did love him a dense beauty. He leaned in close, using his elongated nails to gently rake them along Garth’s pulse point before he drew him closer by the palm of his hand. “Like I said, I ain’t opposed,” Benny murmured as he closed the gap between them. The kiss was chaste, permission seeking, because while body language hinted at Garth being accommodating, he still hadn’t heard a consensual yes.

Just as Benny was about to draw back, Garth gasped against his lips and wrapped his arms about Benny’s neck, giving him opportunity to deepen the kiss, vampire tongue wrestling with werewolf tongue as they began to explore each other. While this wasn’t Benny’s first time kissing a man, or kissing a visitor from another dimension even… It was his first time kissing a werewolf.

Now, perhaps it was his learned prejudices from his clan’s own misconceptions about werewolves, or perhaps the mere fact that they turned into actual wolves… But Benny had expected a little more of a sloppy kiss. Instead he got an ardent urgency that caused a tingle through a bloodstream that hadn’t flowed since he kissed sweet death all those centuries ago. Garth’s soft lips, tasting of a sweet spiciness that rivaled fresh blood, parted like a split open fig.

Benny’s hands found their way into short, scruffy hair, and he tugged the wolf even closer. The world around them faded into the bland grays and blacks of the eternal background of a supposedly purifying plane. Benny found himself a little lost, nary a breadcrumb in sight, but he felt anything but fear. When he drew back with a soft gasp, he was met with such a vision, Garth, expression dazed with dilated pupils and kiss swollen lips. Beautiful.

[mywitchyblog]

Addressing Misconceptions (Again)

About this post of mine

Alright, it seems like once again, some of y’all have taken my words completely out of context, so let’s clear the air one more time.

First off, I didn’t make my previous post to attack all teenage shifters. I wasn’t pointing fingers at the entire group, nor was I saying that teenagers can’t shift properly or intelligently. My post was specifically directed at those who engage in hypocrisy—you know, the ones who criticize adults for age-shifting down while doing the exact same thing in reverse. The double standards are what I’m calling out, not every teenage shifter on the planet.

So, if you read that post and didn’t feel targeted, then it wasn’t about you. As the saying goes: If the shoe fits, wear it. If it doesn’t, move along.

Now, to those of you who are still convinced that I’m being “mean,” “vulgar,” or “hateful,” let me ask you this: Are you upset because of the way I said it, or because you got called out on your own contradictions? Let’s be real here—most of the responses I’ve gotten so far have been nothing but fallacies, where instead of engaging with the actual point I made, people decided to:

Attack my tone: Calling me “vulgar” or “hateful” is a classic ad hominem move. Instead of addressing the logic behind what I said, y’all are trying to discredit me by focusing on my word choice. You’re upset because I used strong language? Sorry, but the truth can be harsh sometimes. Focus on the substance of the argument, not the delivery.

Twist my words: Saying I’m attacking all teenage shifters is a straw man fallacy. I’m not out here claiming all teenage shifters are hypocrites or unintelligent. I’m calling out a specific pattern of behavior—the double standards that some (not all) people hold in this community when it comes to age-shifting. You know the ones I’m talking about: criticizing adults for age-shifting down while they age themselves up for the same reasons. If you don’t engage in that behavior, I’m not talking about you.

I made that post because this double standard is exhausting to witness. If we’re going to call certain behaviors “creepy” or “wrong,” then those standards need to be consistent across the board. You can’t shame someone for age-shifting down to relive experiences they missed out on while simultaneously aging yourself up to play out fantasies that fit your narrative. It’s the same thing, just flipped. If it’s problematic for one group, it’s problematic for everyone.

If the post triggered you, maybe it’s because you saw yourself in it. Maybe it’s because you’ve been playing the same game and didn’t like having a mirror held up to your actions. Either way, I’m not here to sugarcoat my points just to avoid ruffling feathers. If you’re going to critique me, do it with actual arguments—not emotional responses or complaints about my tone. Because the reality is, most of y’all aren’t engaging with the message, you’re just reacting to your own discomfort.

Speaking of Hypocrisy...

Now, let’s talk about another blatant double standard some of y’all are holding: shifting into fictional races vs. shifting into BIPOC identities. Some of you love to act all righteous, preaching about how wrong it is for someone to shift into a BIPOC identity, while at the same time, you’re out here shifting into elves, Na'vi, or other fantasy races, thinking that’s somehow okay.

Spoiler alert: Shifting into a ��fictional” race is fundamentally the same thing as shifting into a BIPOC identity—it’s just wrapped up in a “pretty pink bow” of fiction to make it more acceptable for you. Whether you’re shifting into a BIPOC identity to explore different facets of life or diving into some fantasy species, you’re doing the same thing. The only reason you feel comfortable with one and not the other is because the fantasy version is conveniently distanced from real-world issues.

This brings us to another fallacy: special pleading. This fallacy happens when people create an arbitrary exception for something they are involved in while criticizing others for similar actions. For example, they might argue that race-shifting is wrong, but it’s somehow “different” or “okay” when they shift into a fictional race or species. The logic simply doesn’t hold up. It’s an inconsistent standard, and that’s why I call it out as hypocrisy. You can’t apply one set of rules to others while making a special exception for yourself just because you’re hiding behind a fantasy setting.

If you’re going to judge others for shifting into BIPOC identities, you better be ready to judge yourself when you’re out here shifting into an elf, a Na'vi, or any other fantasy race that’s just a dressed-up version of real-world cultures. The hypocrisy is real, and if you don’t see it, that’s on you.

If this hits a little too close to home, maybe it’s time to check yourself. The truth is, most of y’all are fine with exploring different identities as long as they’re neatly tied up in fantasy. But when it comes to real-world identities, particularly BIPOC ones, suddenly you’ve got a problem. The double standard is ridiculous, and it’s not just hypocritical—it’s exhausting.

Feeling Offended? Ask Yourself Why

So, if you’re feeling offended by my posts—whether it’s about age-shifting or race-shifting—then maybe you should ask yourself why. Because if my words make you uncomfortable, it’s probably because they’ve struck a nerve. You can’t keep applying one set of rules to yourself and another set to everyone else just to feel morally superior. That’s not how it works.

At the end of the day, shifting is about exploring different facets of ourselves, whether through age, race, or any other identity. But if you’re going to call someone else out for how they shift, you better be applying that same scrutiny to yourself. Otherwise, you’re just playing the hypocrite game.

So here’s your wake-up call: stop rewriting the rules to fit your narrative. Either own it across the board, or step off the ride. Because if you’re still pretending that aging yourself up is okay but aging down isn’t, or that shifting into a fantasy race is fine but shifting into a BIPOC identity isn’t, you’re the one with the double standards—not me.

[anrieee]

⇝ 27 - (✍︎) first date (real) (not clickbait)

“Aren’t they beautiful?”

“Mhm, very.”

You looked down on your lap where Kuni laid and you were met with his indigo eyes. “Are you agreeing that the stars are beautiful or are you insinuating something else?”

“Well, the one I have my eyes on right now is very gorgeous.” He said, not breaking eye contact.

You looked back up to the sky bashfully. You fought back a smile, “Stop playing.”

“I was saying the truth though. After all, I need to be more honest with you, and myself I guess, if I wanna make it up. That’s the conclusion I’ve come to anyways.”

“Conclusion from what??”

“Someone told me communication prevents misunderstandings.”

“That’s endearing.” You let out a breathy laugh. “I’ll have to thank them.”

“I like it when you smile.” He looked at you with adoration that it felt like it could burn you inside out.

“I like your smile too, Kuni.” You found your hand playing with his hair. “But you’ve gotta stop saying those things without any warning, it’s not good for me.”

“As you wish.” You had a feeling he didn’t mean it. A comfortable silence settled in the air; you didn’t feel obligated to fill it with forced talks, it was refreshing. It didn’t matter how many moments passed, you both would be listening tentatively towards one another if the other speaks and that was reassuring.

-

“I’m curious about something.”

“What is it?” Kuni tilted his head cutely. It reminded you of a cat.

“You’re a flat earther, yeah? If you’ve taken up a major in science, surely you know earth isn’t flat.”

“First of all, I wasn’t a flat earther. Second of all, chemical engineering doesn’t really touch upon space, you know that right?” He said with a lilt of his voice. It was as if he was about to burst out laughing.

“Of course, I know that!” You huffed. “Also, the way you instigated arguments with me over space made you seem like an avid flat earth believer.”

“I was just raising up very good questions.” He grinned annoyingly. You wanted to wipe it off his face.

“Your ‘questions,’” you made a motion with your fingers emphasizing your point, “were something like: ‘How’d you know they actually landed in the moon though? Have you been there? I didn’t think so.’ and another instance was: ‘If the earth was round, we would’ve fallen off.’”

“I think I remember that,” Kuni held a look of recognition before he was caught in a fit of laughter. You couldn’t help but smile at the melodious sound. “Ah, it was so fun messing with you.”

“You got on my nerves often.” You playfully glared at him.

“Well, I mean, that was the point.” He snickered.

“I was just trying to make small talk since we were seat mates.” You rolled your eyes at him. “I can’t believe I was treated this way for trying to be nice.”

“It was funny to see your reaction.” He knew deep down that wasn’t the only reason. During that time, he was still being treated like he was in a different dimension by the other students because of his backgrounds. They talked to him for the chance to be treated luxuriously with his “money.” They didn’t ever talk to him for the sole purpose of being his friend, it was always with an ulterior motive.

And there was you. You had randomly spouted random facts about space, he was confused at the time. That was a weird way to start a conversation, he thought. Nonetheless, he decided to entertain you. “Just this once,” he told himself. He had told you a few false misconceptions about space and you looked at him in horror. That was probably what started it all. Once turned into many more.

Truthfully, he wanted to befriend you. He found you interesting at the time. But he couldn’t help himself from messing with you, it was way too fun. The way you’d go on a tangent, was easy to fluster and expressive with your eyes was what made it so easy to push all your buttons.

He was easily pulled out of his thoughts with the sound of your voice. “I’m hungry.” You grumbled.

“You haven’t eaten yet?” He looked at you with bewildered eyes.

“No?” You furrowed your eyebrows. “I thought we were going to eat together.”

“Oh.”

You checked the time on your phone, “But it’s 1:30 in the morning already, so I don’t think there’s gonna be a lot of options to choose from.”

Kuni rose from his position from your lap and took ahold of your hand. He pulled you up and dragged you to his car, “We’re bound to find one that’s still open.”

just a hater — [ prev | masterlist | next ]

a/n: there’s going to be another update later, so look out for that

Synopsis: In which you major in astronomy and scaramouche is the biggest astronomy hater (in your eyes). What happens when someone confesses their feelings for you, and you not knowing how to handle affections, suddenly blurt out that you are already taken. By who? Well, scaramouche of course.

taglist: @lovelyiez @linn-a-a @itsyourgirlria @beriiov @kunikuzushiit @bubiblossom @jiminscarmex @starfruiitzz @baelloraa @bleedingwhiteroses222 @zanashair @criminalinthemaking @dee-zbignuts @shizunxie @lxry-chxn @mangobee @sukunasrealgf @reverse-iak @monochromaticelliot @scaranaris-lil-niko @zannivrs @lovely-scaramouchie @ireallylikehamsters @angryhope @monaypo1 @shirmxie @pooonyo @ladyv1n @thenightsflower @aerinrin @suzukara @lfgceo @elysiasbae @saoiirsee @kairxse @prefesro @purpl3bo1 @l-l-u-x-x @otomegame-oneshots @mcryv @kunikuzushisbeloved @cupids-chamber @justawalkingdisaster @scaraapologist @elakari @hishui @loveroftheoldestdream @doppoluvbot @crowbird @lunavixia @mirology

[bestworstcase]

Any thoughts on "The Sky is Falling"? I happened to be listening to it the other day and went "wow, this seems like something BestWorstCase would have Thoughts about", but searching your blog didn't turn anything up on it. If Tumblr search has failed me (probably not for the last time), I'd be interested to see what you've written before; otherwise, I'd be interested to hear now :)

ough i do have thoughts. many thoughts. idk if i’ve ever posted them, partly because i argue with myself a lot about whether it’s a hound song or an ozma song brfghks. much as i’d like it to be the hound for rotating him reasons, though, i do think ozma is a stronger textual reading.

unhinged about songs hours ->

the motif of the sky falling obviously calls to mind the chicken little folktale, of which there are numerous variations but in all of them the kerfuffle over the sky falling is hysterical: the danger is not real. in some versions of the tale, a sly fox incites the panic on purpose at the beginning and then eats the frightened birds who turn to him for help at the end.

the song’s narrative placement also connects it to atlas, and thence to atlas telamon, the titan who holds up the sky on his shoulders. (not the world—that’s a common misconception; classical images of atlas shouldering a globe depict the celestial sphere. it’s the sky.)

so we have on one hand the apocalyptic motif of the sky falling, and on the other the very real danger to atlas, conflated together: if atlas falls, so too must the sky… except that ‘the sky is falling’ is idiomatically an irrational fear. atlas may fall—that danger is real—but the world will not end if it does. the song’s central motif implies paranoid hysteria.

there is also the latin maxim fiat justitia ruat caelum, let justice be done though the skies fall. i go back and forth on whether i think the writers specifically have that in mind, in relation to this motif, but: “it’s important not to lose sight of what drives us—love, justice, reverence” and “in pursuit of a new world, no cost is too great.” fiat justitia, ruat caelum. that’s the salem perspective.

and i bring that up because of sacrifice:

Born an angel, heaven-sent Falls from grace are never elegant Stars will drop out of the sky, The moon will sadly watch the roses die In vain, Lost, no gain But you’re not taking me.

and

Show them gods and deities, Blind and keep the people on their knees. Pierce the sky, escape your fate, The more you try, the more you’ll just breed hate And lies. Truth will rise, Revealed by mirrored eyes.

with its similarly apocalyptic imagery (‘stars will drop out of the sky’/‘pierce the sky, escape your fate’) in relation to ozma and his task, and salem positioning herself in opposition (‘but you're not taking me’/‘truth will rise’)—fiat justitia, ruat caelum.

hence, ozma song.

‘the sky is falling’ is directly a dark mirror to ‘touch the sky’ but it’s also—i think more interestingly—a sardonic reflection on ‘until the end’ if one reads both songs as articulations of ozma’s perspective.

emotionally, ‘until the end’ leaves off here:

Love brings us dreams, But grief makes the heart burst at the seams. As light fills my eyes, I’ll picture me beside her, And pray that I’ll inspire, I promise I’ll be here until… …our story has been told. Til our bodies break down every door. Til we find what we’ve been looking for.

it’s a dream—a fantasy—ozma finding hope in this imagined scenario where he can be with salem again. i’ll picture me beside her.

and then she, uh. captures him:

Here comes another nightmare, Another fever dream. The horror just won’t stop, An endless scream, But this is not subconscious; We’re not imagining. We’re wide awake, This is reality.

lol.

‘until the end’ is very lovelorn and idealistic, and also fundamentally passive: though “desperate to make amends,” the promise ozma makes is to… wait. to do nothing. to hope for salem to make the first move.

and well. she does. this is what ‘the sky is falling’ is about, the collision of ozma’s romantic fantasies with the harsh reality of the situation.

Our world’s Lost without a soul. We’re losing all control, Not getting closer. Every day is just another dose of torture. Now we pay the cost. The race is lost, This nightmare’s Our real life.

points.

OSCAR: It should not be this hard getting people to just cooperate. OZ: And yet, it’s something I’m becoming increasingly concerned about.

this is what oz is worrying about all morning while the hound stalks oscar across mantle, how difficult it is to get anyone to “just cooperate.” because—contrary to the popular fanon—he is in fact still committed to his task and he does still, on some level, believe that remnant is damned and its people are missing something fundamental; his secrecy and manipulation, his guiding interest in silver-eyes and maidens and elevated ‘guardians’ and ‘symbols of hope,’ his all speak to his lack of true faith in humanity. and that traces back to what the god of light told him.

(since people love to cite ozpin’s commentary on ‘the story of the seasons’ as “evidence” that he’s abandoned his task by misinterpreting “I fear that if unrestricted magic use were possible, the results would be chaotic and catastrophic” to mean that ozpin thinks people are better off without magic rather than ozpin justifying his efforts to control the maidens; here’s part of his commentary on ‘the two brothers.’

Whether or not you believe in the Brothers, or in this story in particular, the underlying message still holds value: We are burdened with responsibility for our world, and we share a common destiny. Like the twin gods, we are intricately connected with one another, and if we can learn to work and live together, we can create things greater than the sum of their parts. Remnant survived the Great War, but while the four kingdoms now cooperate and coexist, our bond seems tenuous. We have a fragile peace, and in some ways, we are more divided than ever. Even if the gods aren’t real, even if they don’t return to judge us for our deeds, we should act each day as though they are arriving tomorrow. In the end, we will be the arbiters of our fates. We will either create a beautiful, peaceful world and live in harmony together or destroy ourselves and our planet, and the gods will judge what we have chosen.

in which he not only states his belief in his mandate and the inevitability of divine judgment outright, in plain terms, but also repeats the same fear he confided in salem thousands of years ago, that despite finding happiness or achieving peace, he worries that people are “more divided than ever.”)

thus: “our world’s/lost without a soul/we’re losing all control/not getting closer.” oz has become “increasingly concerned” about how hard it is to “get people to just cooperate.” and so “every day is just another dose of torture,” because, well…

To live free or die, it’s all the same. The enemy was right, there’s no reclaiming. In waves of shame, We’re desperate to make amends

…he knows salem is right. his task is impossible; things can never go back to the way they were. the old world, the world of the brothers, is gone and trying to reclaim it will achieve nothing but destroying remnant.

and yet he cannot bring himself to believe it, because to him this would amount to condemning the world, to admitting that remnant is broken and irredeemable and must be destroyed because it cannot be saved. to him, salem’s rejection of the mandate is horrifying—tantamount to a a declaration that nothing in the world is worth trying to save.

in her mind, rejecting the mandate is an act of defiance: remnant does not need to be saved because there is nothing wrong with it, and where he sees damnation, salem finds freedom. and that’s what ripped them apart.

‘sacrifice’ makes this point also:

Did the things you thought you should, All the things they said were good. All your faith in ancient ways Leaves you trapped inside a maze. […] Even with the lives you stole, Still no closer to your… goal.

that ozma’s faith in the god of light imprisons him in a futile, impossible quest because he can’t escape his belief that the world is broken, that salem’s freedom is really damnation. he achieves so much—he united the four human kingdoms after the great war and ushered in an era of unprecedented worldwide peace—and still, in ozpin’s own words, he sees only that people are “more divided than ever.”

the chorus of ‘the sky is falling’:

Better cover up your eyes, my friend, The sky is falling, Can’t outrun the ruin of our lives. Be prepared, we’re near the end, The final days are calling. Hold on now, The sky is falling down.

similarly echoes the motif of blindness that appears in ‘sacrifice’ (“close your eyes now, time for dreams/death is never what it seems” and “show them gods and deities/blind and keep the people on their knees”) and, more obliquely, in ‘until the end’ (“love brings us dreams/but grief makes the heart burst at the seams/as light fills my eyes/i’ll picture me beside her” -> the light is death, the light is love, love brings us dreams and death is never what it seems).

the first two lines of the chorus are also a direct inversion of ‘trust love’: “better cover up your eyes, my friend/the sky is falling” vs “trust love/and open up your eyes.” which is salient because ‘trust love’ is chiefly about ozlem; it’s in conversation with ‘sacrifice’ and ‘until the end’ and on top of the central motif of love restoring sight there is also, “if you could only open up a door/spread your wings and fly away from here/write yourself into a fairytale/all your problems would just disappear.” the you is ozma.

and that makes ‘trust love’ + ‘until the end’ + ‘the sky is falling’ really um, pointed foreshadowing:

All you have to be Is here in reality Leave your fantasy You’ll find the key  To victory I know the dark’s returning And the fires of hate are burning But the lies can’t hide what’s true When love’s alive

in one sense ‘until the end’ is the fantasy and reality ensues in ‘the sky is falling’, but in another—deeper, more important—‘until the end’ is also the truth which ozma keeps hidden from himself, and ‘the sky is falling’ is the act of self-deception; better cover up your eyes, my friend, the sky is falling.

so all of this—all of it—this is the false narrative oz has constructed about himself and salem, his blindness:

A curse that’s Never-ending This path with No escape No sudden death We’re trapped In slow decay These words are Not symbolic The torment’s All too real Eternal enemy Our fate is sealed We slide Further down the hole The damage takes its toll Helpless and broken Failed to stem the Tide of pain The floodgates open Now it’s one more sin As evil wins And misery steals Our lives

notice too how this section of the song reflects darkly on the hope and longing expressed in ‘until the end.’

ozma let himself imagine a reprieve (“time falls away/but pain always finds a way to stay/the tears that you’ve shed/will find a tree to water/but only when you’re stronger”), which he now scathingly reminds himself is impossible: his curse is never-ending, there is no escape even in death, he’s trapped in slow decay, his fate as her eternal enemy is sealed.

he admitted to himself that he wished to make amends and for just a moment he let himself believe that he could (“and stare with pride into the face of fear/in our finest hour, i’ll be standing here/and should we fall to darkness/this power i will harness/i promise i’ll be here until the end”), and now he mocks himself for it: he has done nothing but decay, corrupted more and more with every lifetime as he becomes unrecognizable to himself; the damage takes its toll. helpless. broken. he can’t make the pain stop, he can’t fix anything, he can’t save either of them.

oz found enough courage and hope to crawl back out of his darkness and try, once more, to do the right thing—to make amends—and what happened when he tried? “i’m not upset that you left. i’m upset you came back.”

that conversation, oz trying to apologize and being told that he’d done wrong again, made a mistake again, happened at most an hour or two before the hound caught them. one more sin as evil wins, cue the chorus.

and then the song turns inside out. (pour one out for the terrible rap 😔)

Lost all my hopes And dreams Watch my life flash By in scenes And it seems there’s No soul on the  Video screen But I’m green tryin’ To figure out what All of it means Staring at the casket Hoping to move past it Knowing things will Never be the same And that’s it Cold soaked as I stand in the rain Feeling nothing but pain Until I see you again

clears throat. not a metaphor. this is about the lost fable—ozma very literally watched his life flash by in scenes, narrated by jinn in ozpin’s own words, and then he retreated into isolation to think about it. not to brood or sulk but to reflect; he comes back with a very clear idea of what he did wrong and how he wants to change because he used that time to, well, try to figure out what all of it meant, knowing things will never be the same.

and that’s it?

this part of the song is an emotional echo of the regret and longing expressed in ‘until the end’; “love brings us dreams/but grief makes the heart burst at the seams/as light fills my eyes/i’ll picture me beside her/and pray that i’ll inspire” -> “cold soaked as/i stand in the rain/feeling nothing but pain/until i see you again” it’s the same idea.

that salem is his hope, his comfort. deep down in his heart of hearts ozma… wants to see her again. ‘until the end’ hints that it isn’t a coincidence that oz makes his hopeful return in the same hour that salem reaches atlas. here, too, “nothing but pain/until i see you again.” a flicker of hope. because the hound is taking them to her.

and then:

Feel the waves crash Loud and hard Oh God Lost control I think I’m gonna lose it All my sanity’s slipping away Oh Lord Press record I’d die without the music Each breath is closer To my death Except that which is, This life There’s none left Let my demons live on Through my legacy Study my pedigree I need therapy

he catches himself feeling that small glimmer of hope and freaks out. lost control, sanity’s slipping away. every breath is bringing him closer to death, oscar will die, his demons will live on in his next host, he needs therapy. why did he even think that?

where you seek comfort, you will only find pain. his heart knows that isn’t true, but ozma is still fighting tooth and nail to force himself to believe it; cue the chorus. better cover up your eyes, my friend, the sky is falling.

[samthecookielord]

(Intro) - (Previous)

Radar: It- It wasn’t the potion! I think some of the glass hit me when it shattered. That was the part that hurt. Olivia: That never happens to any of us. Radar: Guess I just got unlucky. Olivia raises an eyebrow.

Radar: So what if it hurt, it’s not like I’m a zombie or anything. That would be crazy! Ivor: Well, none of us said “zombie”. Why are you bringing it up? Radar: Because I’m not! Easy misconception! Ivor: Is it, now? Radar: Uh-huh!

Ivor narrows his eyes at you.

Radar: I totally forgot to mention, I’m actually allergic to potions!  Lukas: …How? Radar: It’s, um, the nether wart! I’m allergic to nether wart! And you have to have that in every potion, right?  Petra: You didn’t seem to have much of a problem with it when Ivor ambushed us in the Underneath. Radar: Huh? Petra: The slowness potion. I didn’t see any reaction then. Radar: That’s because you were too slow to notice it! Petra: …Kay.

Petra looks concerned.

Radar opens his mouth to say something else, but instead he stands there awkwardly sweating.

Everyone just stares at Radar before moving on.

You’re unable to go back the way you came, so the only way out is through. You enter the cave, which quickly becomes dark. The torches only last so long, and there are plenty of mobs (that still ignore you. Yep, real good at this being normal thing).

After walking for a while in what should theoretically be pitch dark, you realize. You can still see. Why can you still make out objects when there aren't any apparent nearby sources of light???- oh right you died. Okay! What a fun time to discover a new facet of your strange new existence! Fun! This is great and this is fun! Okay! You look at the others, who are clearly struggling to feel their way around the dark. Well, at least you can freak out a little bit without them noticing!

As you're looking around, you spot a tunnel leading upward, which is probably good. You call out to the others and start heading towards it.

Lukas: You- you can see a way out? Radar: Uh, yeah, I think so. Lukas: But- Petra: Alright let's move first I don't wanna get jumpscared by Ivor for the tenth time in this dump. Ivor: Ah yes, because it's oh so scary when I can't see anything! Axel: AH- oh it's Ivor. Ivor: It seems I can never truly escape my ninja past... Radar: Okay yeah moving on.

Once out of the cave, the others congratulate you for finding the way out! You all stop for a quick break, and you wander off to some trees for some shade and also get mildly spooked by a creeper that, as usual, doesn't react to you. You think about maybe warning the group that there's a creeper, but luckily for them it wanders away back into the trees. Though, glancing at the group... they seem to be giving you a couple weird glances. Well, fair enough, considering how extra weird you've been lately. And then, they approach you.

--Before you can do anything, they ask if you're ready to keep following the trail.

Oh. Huh, okay.

You nod. Still a little tense, you're waiting for someone to say something. Are they waiting for a good moment? Are they waiting for the sun to come down? What's the hold up? You were so sure they finally figured it out...

But nobody ever asked about it. In fact, none of the others ever comment on your vaguely-zombie-like properties anymore. It's... sort of relieving? Ivor accidentally splashes you with a damage potion, which actually works in your favour! When camping for the night, the others seek out a covered area.

...Maybe you could get used to this.

You reach the Farlands.

...

And NOW that's EVERYTHING from the doc. Hope you enjoyed!

(View the beast for yourself in all its unfinished glory)

[bimtheory]

Trying to watch Marilyn Monroe films again because I feel like it's impossible to write a book about bimbos and not mention Marilyn, but it's proving to be difficult.

I'm trying my best, but I just can't figure out what people find special about her. And it's so hard to find any sort of truth. There are so many made up quotes and misconceptions just to further this narrative of Marilyn as the ultimate victim, people treat her like a martyr. If she's not being discussed and treated as a sex symbol she's being used as a symbol for tragedy, and would Marilyn even want that?

In a 1962 interview published by Life Magazine a day before her death, she had this to say:

"I don’t mind being burdened with being glamorous and sexual. But what goes with it can be a burden. Like the man was going to show me around but the woman said, “Off the premises.” I feel that beauty and femininity are ageless and can’t be contrived, and glamour, although the manufacturers won’t like this, cannot be manufactured. Not real glamour, it’s based on femininity. I think that sexuality is only attractive when it’s natural and spontaneous. This is where alot of them miss the boat. And then something I’d just like to spout off on. We are all born sexual creatures, thank God, but it’s a pity so many people despise and crush this natural gift. Art, real art, comes from it, everything. I never quite understood it, this sex symbol. I always thought symbols were those things you clash together! That’s the trouble, a sex symbol becomes a thing. I just hate to be a thing. But if I’m going to be a symbol of something I’d rather have it sex than some other things they’ve got symbols of! These girls who try to be me, I guess the studios put them up to it, or they get the ideas themselves. But gee, they haven’t got it. You can make alot of gags about it like they haven’t got the foreground or else they haven’t the background. But I mean the middle, where you live."

And, later in the interview:

"It might be a kind of relief to be finished. It’s sort of like, I don’t know, what kind of a yard dash you’re running, but then you’re at the finish line and you sort of see you’ve made it! But you never have. You have to start all over again. But I believe you’re always as good as your potential. I now live in my work and in a few relationships with the few people I can really count on. Fame will go by and, so long, I’ve had you fame. If it goes by, I’ve always known it was fickle. So at least it’s something I experienced, but that’s not where I live."

None of this is paraphrased. And, personally, it sounds to me like she rather be remembered for being a sexy actress than whatever this is:

But a lot of people who claim to be Marilyn Monroe fans or even just mention her don't seem to care about or have any actual interest in her. Unfortunately, I think Andrew Dominik may have been right in that (most) people are not watching her films. I have friends that won't even touch movies from before 1980, let alone the 50s. And watching the clip of her performing Diamonds Are a Girl's Best Friend on YouTube is not watching one of her movies.

Marilyn is invoked when people want to a sort of classy sexuality, or beautiful "feminine" tragedy, which is bullshit.

But anyway, like I was saying, I don't get the appeal. And it's hard to find any writing approaching her honestly and critically instead of constant "she was a perfect angel that could do no wrong"-tier glazing. I don't mean to be rude; I have nothing against her, and her life did seem tragic in some respects, but it always feels like the praise outweighs the reality of the material. Like people felt bad having been so judgmental about her after the circumstances of her death that they overshot trying to make up for it and Marilyn became indicative of the tragedy and mistreatment of every woman, a myth that has been passed down for generations at this point.

I don't know. That's just how it seems to me. I read people talk about how great of an actress she really was, but I don't see it, and people conveniently always forget to explain how she was a good actress or what made her so great, just "she trained at The Actor's Studio!", a lot of actors did.

[damdammy]

Telling Bang Chan that you’re autistic

This is not at all from any fandoms that I usually write for, it was just an idea that I wrote down in like 20 mins at midnight lolol. It’s not that good, but yea, hopefully as I practice more my writing will be as good as it was before ^^

I’ve never written for Chan before so apologies if it’s not that accurate ;-;

(Just as a note in case people are confused, I myself am autistic so that’s where the idea came from)

Warnings: slight angst (but it has a fluffy ending), mention of ableism

“Hey,” he said as he entered the room, gently closing the door behind him. “You wanted to tell me something?”

I nodded and took a shaky breath. Come on, you had to tell him at some point. If not now, you’d have to wait even longer, and that could cause more complications.

He slowly sat down next to me, making sure to still give me the space that I needed. He was so sweet… but what if what I was about to tell him would change his perception of me? Sure, it isn’t actually the end of the world, but even the kindest people sometimes had misconceptions surrounding autism. That was what I was mostly scared of. That, and that he would see the ugly side of it and it would scare him off. Of course it was not all bad, not at all. But there were still negative sides to it that I didn’t like to show.

“You seem nervous, is everything okay, y/n?” Chan asked me. I nodded, although I knew damn well I didn’t look okay. My foot was tapping continuously while I fiddled with my hands, trying to calm myself down. I had no idea if I was blushing or not, but my face felt very hot. I didn’t like this.

I wanted to ask him to promise me that this wouldn’t make him see me differently but honestly, how can you be sure of that? Even if he were to promise that, he was a human after all. He wouldn’t be able to control his reaction.

“I… need to tell you something,” I started, mentally preparing myself. I had past experiences where telling people about me being autistic turned out for the worst, and although Chan was the kindest soul I had ever met, I was still terrified. Well, here goes nothing..

“I’m…. I’m autistic.” I said and squeezed my eyes closed. For a moment, it felt like a weight was lifted off of my shoulders. But that was soon replaced by my stomach going insane because of the nerves kicking back in. “I… I didn’t tell you earlier because I didn’t know when to, and I completely understand if you want to break up wi—“

“Wow wow wow, wait a minute there. I haven’t even responded and you’re already worrying about the worst.” He interrupted me gently. I finally lifted up my gaze, and was met with Chan kindly smiling at me.

“Was this what had you so nervous all day?” He asked, and if anyone else had asked that I would’ve felt embarrassed. But for some reason I didn’t feel that way now. So I nodded.

“Well, you’re still the same person you were before you told me, aren’t you?” I nodded again. But he didn’t get it, right?

“W-well yeah but autism is complicated, there’s certain parts you haven’t seen yet because I mask those.” I said, my voice getting quieter as the sentence progressed.

“And?”

“W-well, what if you don’t like those?” The fear was essentially dripping from my voice. I didn’t want him to leave me.

“Why wouldn’t I? I like you, and this is a part of you as well.”’

“But maybe it won’t be what you expected or it’ll be weird or—“

“That doesn’t mean I’ll leave you, Y/n, I promise.” Chan said as I felt him gently grabbing my hand. “I’m not going anywhere, okay? Sure, I may have to learn some new things about you here and there, but I’m more than willing to do so and it won’t change my perception of you.” I couldn’t help but smile at it.

“I appreciate that you told me about this, I can imagine that it may be hard to do so.” I slowly nodded and rested my head against Chan’s shoulder.

“People have left me over this… I didn’t want to lose you too.”

“Never.” He slowly lifted up my hand and kissed it softly, before repeating what he said earlier. “I promise.”

[cheetahsprints]

Prompt #8: Heart

Inspired by this post

• Sonadow Prompt Fills •

• Ambience Music •

*

Shadow could hear every shallow beat of his heart. It was slowing down... too slow. His wounds were too severe. Shadow hated that he had let this happen at all. He should’ve been here. Curse his stupid feelings which he had been trying so hard to keep from the other. Now he could lose him forever.

Blood was pooled under him and continued departing rapidly as though it had somewhere better to be. He wasn’t going to make it. Shadow wasn’t sure he could allow that.

Sonic wasn't one who should simply give up and go in peace if there was another route... but what if that's not what he would've wanted...? Sonic idly mentioned once that vampiric abilities looked cool. He would come back even stronger than before... albeit with some... trivial... limitations. But he’d still be around... they’d be together forever... except...

Sonic wasn’t really with him. Shadow didn’t own his heart, yet he was about to make a questionable decision on its behalf. Sonic was unconscious... he couldn’t consent... he might despise Shadow for what he was about to do. He didn’t even know Shadow was a vampire. He was careful to hide his weaknesses and habits, he wore sunglasses along with a harness and leather jacket at all times around Sonic to conceal his special features.

Shadow lifted his head up and bared his teeth, sinking them into Sonic’s neck. His blood was a bitter-sweet tang across Shadow’s tongue. It slithered down his throat. He tasted Sonic’s trembling pulse until it stopped.

His heart would beat again... it was a common misconception in their world that his kind were essentially dead... Well, they had one foot in the grave at all times, but their hearts didn’t stop, they were just shallow and unnaturally fast. Their bodies were tough and cold, but they retained emotions... dulled emotions... other than when it came to their beloved.

A vampire loved once and only once.

He couldn’t lose Sonic. It would break him. The world wouldn’t survive a remorseless Shadow if his heart was gone. He bit into his own wrist and dripped his sluggish blood into Sonic’s slightly parted maw. He sped Sonic to the nearest graveyard.

Shadow picked out a nice spot by a pretty tree in spring bloom, an odd splash of cheerfulness on the gloomy landscape. He removed his gloves and raked his claws into the dirt. He dug a shallow grave... though grave wasn’t the best term... Sonic was going to be reborn… it was more like a cocoon.

He carefully maneuvered his temporarily stiff and lifeless form into the hole and covered it back up. He curled in a ball at the roots of the tree and waited.

Shadow’s head immediately lifted when the dirt rustled. Sonic, now decorated with fangs, yellow sclera, and leather wings, emerged to rejoin the living as a creature of the night. He looked as incredible as ever, and the sight of him returning to the world nearly arrested Shadow’s own heart.

“Sonic.” Shadow slotted himself next to Sonic and carded fingers through his quills. Every fluttering beat of his undead heart was because of Shadow, now. “Please. Forgive me.”

Sonic eyes slid open. He wouldn’t blink anymore unless he did it on purpose. His gaze was squinted for a moment as he adjusted to his considerably sharper vision. “I was... dying... I... is this a graveyard? What did you... do to me?”

Shadow took off his sunglasses and freed his red wings as Sonic’s gaze turned fully on him. He gasped. However, he didn’t seem appalled.

“You’re like me now. I couldn’t lose you, Sonic.” Shadow stared at him, begging him to understand. “You’re everything to me.”

Sonic hesitated a moment, then flung himself at Shadow, wrapped his arms around him. “I’m not mad. My last thought before I passed out was... that I wished I could tell you that I love you.”

Shadow wished his tear ducts still worked. He had never been so happy, not even before he was turned. He settled for squeezing Sonic back as hard as he could, comforted that Sonic would be able to withstand his full strength as a vampire as well. No longer would his affections be restrained.

He dropped down so that he could press his ear against Sonic’s chest, reassuring himself that the heart which Sonic now shared with him continued its important task and this wasn’t a merciless dream. Sonic kissed the top of his head.

*

[talisidekick]

This is for those that need to hear it:

I'm sorry for the lack of subtitles for those of you hard of hearing. I wasn't sure I'd even make this but I'll include the transcript of the part I wrote out for the first half. The rest. I'm sorry. It was all done off the cuff and I'm still getting used to my new voice so it's hard for me to listen to it. "Living in fear of the far-right conservative tantrum is what far-right conservatives want. What I mean by this is you can’t go about your life, denying yourself the opportunity to be yourself because you’re afraid someone is going to yell at you, or shout at you, or get violent over you just existing. This fear of being called out, “clocked”, and socially attacked for just saying “hello”, or dressing how you like, or being in a public space is what far-right conservative and religious bigots want. They want to make you feel bad or scared for being yourself. This is how they chase you and others like you out of participating in society and public life. By all means, be cautious. Motivated and misguided people do exist. But don’t let anyone blow up the perception that the majority of people, or even a sizeable amount of people, are itching to find someone like you so they can go out of their way to make your life miserable. The truth of it is, the vast majority of people don’t care that you’re transgender, gay, or queer. It’s not their life, and thus it’s not their concern. If anything the over-politicization of transgender and queer people has made the majority of people tired of hearing the negative rhetoric.

Once again, still be careful, and watch your back. Some people are a bit too far down the conspiracy that queer people are a threat, and may be dangerous if provoked. However, you will be surprised how many people will treat you just like everyone else. Upon meeting you, most people will then have a face for all of the negative commentary levied at queer people. You alone replace the ‘entity’ with a person. That person is human, relatable, and someone most people can identify with. You’re a human being too, and people will see that. You will break most misconceptions and expose the lies the far-right bigots spread by just existing in someone elses proximity.

The one thing to ultimately remember when going out into the world, is to remember the primary fallacy of perception that far-right bigots rely chiefly on, and that is if no one stands up to defend you when they get loud, that means no one is on your side. In truth, most people just want it to stop without having to make their leanings or feelings on the situation known. Once again, most people either don’t care, or don’t know how to show their support, so they go silent. If anything, you’ll have more people silently cheering you on to shut them down, than you will have people siding with their bigotry.

The average persons day-to-day life doesn’t have any consideration for queer people. And I mean that in a good way. They don’t see anyone queer as being anything different than just another person. So don’t let it go to your head that the world is against you. That you’re wrong for being you. You’re not hurting anyone by being queer. You’re just another person trying to live their life, and most people will see you that way. If anything, they will recognize just how hard the world is for you. The world at large is kinder than the loud few make it seem."

[thotpuppy]

If you’re so vehemently against ai fanart what’s your take on fanmade graphics and edits that use stolen pictures from the internet? These fans didn’t go out with their camera to capture the images themselves, they searched through Pinterest and google and found photos taken by real photographers and, without asking permission, stole these images to edit and create into something else. Yet this practice is widely accepted amongst fandom, but the second ai is involved it’s akin to murder? Even when the fans have clearly uploaded said ai generations into photoshop to edit them first? Seems like a pick-and-choose double standard to me.

Okay first of all, let's address the fact that - going by the language you've used here - you've already decided how I feel about it, so why bother the pretense of "asking"? Dishonesty breeds Discontent. Don't lie to someone's face and expect them to be kind, yeah?

Secondly, almost every single person I know who works with image manipulation uses assets they DO have the rights to outside of specific actor's likenesses. There are millions of photos, graphics, illustrations, paintings, etc. that are open for free personal AND commercial use allllll over the internet and people use them liberally. And, actually, many, MANY of these people DO go out and take their own photographs, so I don't know where your misconception is coming from.

And, the big kicker - they also don't lie about it. They say when something is an edited photo, if it's not obvious.

Stolen images being used in edits is NOT widely accepted and is in fact generally pretty damn frowned upon in most art circles, and I absolutely don't support use of them.

Every single instance of fanart is a rocky road as far as IP infringement goes, but don't put fanartists on the same level as the industry professionals providing celebrity model photos. Unlike in AI and Art Theft, when those photos are used that's bringing attention to the figure in question, not taking it away from an actual creator.

Lastly, where the FUCK do you get off saying ANYONE is comparing AI use to murder? Persecution complex much? I get it, you wanna be a victim so bad, but you're the one stealing from people at YOUR industry level.

AI in general has a metric fuckton of potential to be something genuinely useful to artists of all walks, but the CURRENT industry is too unethically sourced. We need to get control of the market, get stolen works (including, once again, STOLEN LEAKED MEDICAL RECORDS) out of the training data, even if that means starting over from scratch.

Also, we need to get the bullies who think it's okay to do shit like spam a Machine Learning program with a single artist's work to harass them offline, target voice actors who have asked not to have their voices used into harassment campaigns, or lie to celebrities by selling them commercial rights to ML-generated fanart, which right now, they legally CAN'T DO. Because the copyrightable legitimacy of AI/ML works IS currently in debate in courts in the US. So.

Maybe instead of assuming everyone is out to get you, Anon, try not being a douchebag and stealing from fellow fanartists? And if you're gonna steal anyways, at least be honest and don't lie to people trying to convince them it's actually a digital illustration.

We can see the weird, fake blending. We can see the extra fingers, or utensils clipping through plates, or hands disappearing into heads, or shoes that don't end where shoes end. And while I'm not going out of my way to confront anyone about it, I'll just stay here on my own blog, blocking people who post AI, I am not the only person who is angry and disgusted at the lack of integrity and blatant disrespect.

[tendertenebrosity]

New piece for my Ocean's Echo fan characters! Masterpost is here.

“Um… Excuse me, are you Specialist Davi Antrell?”

Davi had just finished the cool-down routine on the exercise machine. The gym had been quietly bustling around him the whole workout, so he wasn’t as startled by the question as he might have been.

A woman with close-cropped hair and a simple flint charm hanging from a cord around her neck was standing a polite distance from him. She looked nervous, her hands fidgeting with each other.

Davi stepped off the machine, slinging his towel over his shoulder. “Yes, that’s me,” he said, flashing a grin. “How can I help you?”

The woman smiled in return, seeming a little less nervous. “Er, I’m Second Order Communications Corporal Elena,” she said. Well outside of Davi’s chain of command. “You, uh. You’re synced to Agent Thirty-two, aren’t you, sir?”

“Yes,” Davi said, surprised.

“I was hoping you might answer a few questions for me,” she said. “If it’s not too much trouble.”

“No, of course not, shoot,” Davi said, hiding the spark of unease that crept up his spine. A question about Saelin from a stranger probably wasn’t anything good.

“I’ve been running a, er, um, well it’s a war games tournament. We meet up in Rec Room Two every Thursday? It’s nothing particularly formal but it is a competition, been running for about two months now...”

“Yes, I know it,” Davi said. It was one of the few activities that Saelin ever came back from more relaxed than when he left. “Has Thirty-two been a problem?”

She looked guilty. “No, sir! Not… exactly. He’s not done anything wrong. It’s just…” She sighed. “I understand if you can’t talk much about what he does. Especially for something as trivial as this. But, some people have… suggested… that reader powers might give him an unfair advantage in the sort of games we play. They are strategy-based, not luck or hand-eye coordination.”

Davi raised an eyebrow. “You think he cheats?”

“I don’t, actually,” she said staunchly. “And I quite like him. But, well. He won a couple of games in a row and somebody did ask, so I had to say I’d follow it up. I’m sorry if this is a waste of your time.”

“No, no, it’s all right,” Davi said. He dragged a hand through his sweaty curls thoughtfully. "Look… I’d be really surprised if he was cheating. Partially because he’s under orders not to read the crew, and I would know if he disobeyed. Partially because he’s not really the type. But that doesn’t necessarily help you with your concerned contestants, does it?”

“If you say it’s not happening, sir, I’m happy to take your word for it,” she said. “Nobody would question your expertise.”

“To my face, at least,” Davi said, raising an eyebrow to include her in the small joke. “Hang on. Isn’t it Thursday today?” He knew it was; he’d seen the war games meetup on Saelin’s schedule, starting very soon.

She grimaced. “It is. Don’t feel pressured to give me an answer or anything today, though, sir - I know this is your rec time as well. It’s just that I saw you and…”

“Figured you could get to work on the problem before the next round, yeah,” Davi agreed readily. “Hold up a sec.”

He thought rapidly for a few moments, and Elena waited patiently.

It really wouldn’t fix the problem, he thought, for Corporal Elena to go back and tell a bunch of disgruntled sore losers that she’d asked the Pilot and he’d said not to worry about it. There was no proof either way, and people had all sorts of misconceptions about readers.

Gossip spread fast in a ship - especially in the kind of little hobby groups that formed in people’s spare time, where allegedly people of any rank or field of work were welcome. And people cared about their hobbies. This could get ugly.

No, he had better fix this.

“Listen, if you’re willing to wait a bit for me to clean up, I’ll come with you to Rec Room Two and get this sorted out,” he said.

The holographic tabletops of Rec Room Two were set up in some complicated grid pattern that Davi didn’t recognise, but the small crowd wasn’t seated at them playing yet; they were still in the milling about and socialising phase.

Davi spotted Saelin over in a corner, talking to a ranker with braided hair. He didn’t look animated, but he was engaged enough he hadn’t noticed Davi’s proximity yet, so presumably it was what he considered a fun conversation.

“If you grab a couple of people you trust to be witnesses,” he said to Elena, “I’ll call Thirty-two over, and we can duck out to the next room, it’ll be more private.”

“Yes,” she said, “That’s… for the best…” She hurried away - looking grateful, but also as if she was slightly regretting getting Davi involved.

Davi leaned against the wall. A few people had noticed him there, and were eyeing him with curiosity.

He reached across the sync bond and nudged Saelin gently; the mental equivalent of a tap on the shoulder. Across the room, the reader stopped mid-sentence, frowning.

His eyes swung to Davi’s, unerringly accurate. Davi jerked his head a little; come here.

It wasn’t that Saelin had ever asked him not to come to his strategy game meetups; it had just been one of the unspoken patterns their shared schedule had fallen into. There was no boundary being transgressed here… but as Saelin made his way across the room, the sync bond chill and empty, Davi suddenly wondered if that was how his reader would see it.

Elena was converging on them as well, with a pair of rankers trailing behind her.

“Davi,” Saelin said, and he looked pale and panicky. “I mean, sir. What are you…”

“Sorry,” Davi said. “I know I’m intruding. Don’t worry, I’ll get on my way in a moment and leave you to it. Corporal Elena just asked me for help settling a question.”

“You - ” Saelin glanced at the three other people, and forced whatever he’d been about to say back behind his lips. “Elena, is everything okay? I’m supposed to be playing Lex in two minutes…”

“Let’s step out for a second,” Davi suggested, and held the door open.

Luckily, Rec Room Three was currently unoccupied.

“I’m sorry to do this to you,” Elena said, awkwardly. “But, well. There have been some… anonymous concerns about, well, fairness, and…”

Saelin’s face closed off. He didn’t look surprised.

“You didn’t need to call my - my architect in to kick me out,” he said.

“Well, that’s not… I’m not going to do that with no evidence,” Elena protested. “That isn’t fair. Specialist Antrell thought that he could, uh, clear your name.”

At that, Saelin realised what Davi was proposing. Denial pulsed across the sync bond, furious agitation and distress that didn’t make it to Saelin’s face. “Architect powers aren’t admissible evidence,” he said, distant and cold.

“This isn’t a court of law,” Davi said. He winced internally; he knew this was going to be hard on Saelin. He knew how much of a blow it always was to the reader’s goodwill, to write him truthful. But it really was the most elegant solution. Couldn’t he see that? And it wasn’t like Davi was forcing it on him out of nowhere, like that first disastrous time in their quarters.

What was his problem? Had Davi been wrong to assume he had nothing to hide?

“It’s just an informal solution,” he said, pushing apology and sincerity across the bond. “We can get this out of the way, and you can get back to your game in five minutes. I’ve done this kind of thing before.” He wondered that it had never occurred to Elena; surely somebody in that room was a strong enough architect to settle disputes with it.

“I don’t - ” Saelin fell silent. His hands closed into fists, bunching the fabric of the uniform pants. “Of course,” he said, a touch of dry emotion creeping into his voice. “Now that you’ve suggested it, if I don’t agree I’ll be assumed guilty automatically. Won’t I?”

“That’s not the - ”

“All right, go on and get it over with, then,” Saelin said.

Davi sighed, pressed the command into Saelin’s mind. “Agent Thirty-two: answer all questions truthfully.” He usually didn’t say the command aloud, when he felt the need to do it; but this time, for the benefit of the uncomfortable-looking Corporal Elena and the two witnesses, he did.

Saelin rocked back a little on his heels, blinking hard. “Yes, sir,” he said.

“Have you ever used reader powers to gain an advantage in these strategy games?”

“No,” Saelin said, almost before Davi had finished speaking. “Never deliberately.”

His mouth twitched, then flattened. Davi pondered something about Saelin: under a write order, he didn’t seem capable of being misleading. Or omitting things that were relevant but hadn’t been specifically asked. That didn’t happen with other people Davi had written like this.

It was inconvenient in this instance. Davi had really been hoping for a clearer ‘no’.

“Never deliberately?” he asked. “What about accidentally?”

“You know that I feel people’s emotions all the time,” Saelin said, still quickly, as if eager to answer. He glanced at Elena and the rankers and away, colour rising in his face. “I can’t help that. I do my best to block everybody out during games, but something might sneak through from time to time. Not thoughts, just feelings. I don’t think that gives me an unfair advantage. If it ever did I’d throw the game.”

“Really? You’d throw it?” one of the rankers asked curiously. “Has that ever happened?”

“Yes, I would. Yes, it has happened, but not here on this ship,” Saelin said. “It happened three times in University games. I’ve gotten much better at staying focused since then.”

“I don’t think things that happened before your conscription are relevant,” Davi said, annoyed with himself that he’d neglected to specify only questions from Davi. That might be awkward. “To repeat: Do you read people’s minds to help you win these games?”

“No, never. I have never and I would never.”

That was more what Davi had hoped for. He looked to Elena. “Are you satisfied with that, Corporal?”

“I am,” she said. “That’s all we needed to know. You can stop… er…” She looked between Davi and Saelin. “Doing… that. Please.”

Davi removed the command, dismissing it with a tiny expenditure of effort. If Saelin was going to be here playing for hours, there was no sense in keeping it active.

Well, that had been a little trickier than Davi was anticipating, but it had still worked. Problem solved; Davi was good at solving problems. He wondered if Elena was one of those people who were uncomfortable with architects as well as readers; she wouldn’t make it very far up the ranks, if so.

“I’ll leave you to it, then,” he said briskly. “I wish you well with your tournament.May the best player win, and all.”

“Thank you for your help, sir,” Corporal Elena said. “I... Thank you for taking the time.”

“Not a problem! Good luck, Saelin.”

He might have smiled at his reader, but Saelin was staring at the ground, his face white and red in blotches.

As the door closed behind Davi, he heard hushed voices start up behind it.

The tournament was supposed to last for at least two hours; but not half of one had gone by when Davi felt Saelin approaching their quarters.

Davi looked up, startled, as the door hissed open. “Hey,” he said. “What, you lost already?”

“I quit the tournament,” Saelin said, sounding low and strangled. “Actually.”

Davi watched him stamp across the cabin and into the tiny bathroom, baffled. He resisted the urge to follow and demand answers. Why on Earth would you…

He decided to leave his reader alone, and managed to hold to that all the way until he’d finished writing his letter to his family.

Saelin had undressed and gone to bed by the time Davi had checked tomorrow’s schedule, flicked his wristband and the light switch off, and leaned back in his own bunk.

“Did you really lose games on purpose?” Davi asked, into the darkness.

He half thought the reader wouldn’t answer. But…

“Once or twice,” Saelin said shortly.

“Why?”

Saelin turned his head, the sheets rustling. “Because I’d accidentally read my opponent’s next moves. You don’t think that’s unethical?”

“No, it is, I just…”

“Oh. So it’s not that you’re fine with cheating,” Saelin said. “You just assumed that I would be. Thanks.”

“Don’t be like that,” Davi said, frustrated. “I knew you weren’t cheating. I wouldn’t have suggested testing it like that if I thought there was a real chance you’d say yes.”

“Then why are you badgering me about a handful of matches that happened years and years before you even met me?” Saelin rolled over, turning his back to the room. “Just because information comes out under write command doesn’t mean it’s important or that I owe you an explanation.”

It’s just that going out of your way to lose when you think you don’t deserve the win is… different to being unwilling to deliberately cheat, Davi thought. It was a stubborn kind of honour code. And it fit surprisingly well into the mind that Davi was starting to learn his way around.

But this wasn’t really the problem that was lurking and looming around Saelin’s mind. It wasn’t what he was angry about.

“You shouldn’t have quit,” Davi said. ���Look, I - I thought I was helping. The group seemed like it was good for you, and - ”

“You didn’t. Help me.”

“Well, yes, that much is obvious now,” Davi said, exasperated, propping himself up on one elbow in bed. “And I’m sorry, okay? But don’t cut off your own social outlet because you’re pissed off at me. That’s fucking dumb and you know it.”

“I’m not just pissed off at you. I am never not pissed off at you. My brain is a highly specialised product of advanced military technological meddling, I think I have the multi-tasking capacity to be pissed off with multiple people at once!”

Stormy silence followed this hissed speech.

Davi waited.

“You and your high-handed humiliating fucking help are beside the point,” Saelin said, finally. “No matter what you’d done, you couldn’t have fixed it. I don’t want to prove that I didn’t cheat. I want them not to have accused me in the first place. I shouldn’t need to be written in front of everybody to earn the right to be there.”

“Not everybody,” Davi pointed out. “Like two people.”

“Maybe I don’t want to socialise with people who think I’d do that.”

“Well, that was also like two people,” Davi said. “Elena said outright she didn’t believe it, but she had to look into it anyway.”

“The rest think about it. They just don’t say anything.”

“Did you overhear that?”

“I don’t need to.”

Davi sighed. “Listen. I’m not going to insist about it, but… I really think you should reconsider. I’m sure some of those people in there liked you.”

“Your opinion is noted. Am I allowed to sleep now?”

“… you know that I… no, look. All right. I’m sorry. Good night.”