#books should never be banned that will never help us in the long run

[afusionoffandoms]

I'm already seeing a lot of people doing the same as they've done with JKR going "I ALWAYS knew he was shitty, his stories have ALWAYS been bad," etc etc, mostly to make themselves feel better about having liked or maybe even still liking what he wrote.

Not only is this an unhealthy way to process your grief, but it also perpetuates the idea that bad art can only be made by bad people - and even worse: that good art can only be made by good people, and that idea is exactly why people are still in denial about JKR and why it took this long for the Gaiman pustule to burst.

It doesn't mean that we are immoral for having liked it when we didn't know any better, or still having fond memories, for having created fan art or gotten tattoos or whatever else.

But keep in mind that we need to be careful about perpetuating that idea as well, because that mindset has consequences.

Edit: And also, obviously, boycott the shit out of that fucker.

[kararisa]

darling, starling

— 9. iridescence — ✦ (wc: 0.6k)

“Is this going to take any longer?” you ask.

It’s an interesting feeling, having Scaramouche in your lap while he does your makeup. The side of his palm gently rests against your cheek as he does your eyeliner, his brow furrowed in concentration while you rest against the cushions of your sofa. His indigo hair and indigo eyes are barely illuminated by the dimmed lights of your living room, an insistence of his even at your protest of the horrid lighting for makeup.

“It’ll only take a moment longer,” he responds.

“You said that ten minutes ago,” an over-exaggeration on your part, but you couldn’t see how a makeover could take so damn long.

Scaramoche grins, his voice dripping in mock innocence, “Perfection takes time. Or however that saying goes. I’m not used to putting makeup on another person so just cooperate with me, will you?”

You do your best to glare at Scaramouche as he finishes up your eyeliner. The two of you have been at this for a while now, bantering while he does your makeup. When he finishes, whenever that may be, the two of you will swap places so you can give him a makeover in return. Admittedly an interesting arrangement to re-enact for a scene in his book, but you have to admit it’s been alright so far. He isn’t terrible, he just takes too long for your liking.

“Part your lips a bit. I’m putting lipstick on you,” you oblige, and Scaramouche continues while he dabs color on your lips. “Our ruse has been quite effective so far. But people seem to think we’ve been in love for longer than we’ve been dating.”

Amusement colors your voice, “I mean, I like to think it makes our whole act more effective.”

He finally leans back to inspect his work after what seems like forever and declares that he’s done — time for you to switch places. He gets off you to take a seat by your side. You take the opportunity to reposition yourself and straddle him.

Only to get a proper look at him while you give him a makeover, of course.

A few minutes of silence pass when Scaramouche speaks up, “The whole point of me asking you to do this was for us to talk. So talk.”

“Like what, the groceries?”

“Doesn’t matter. Just talk.”

“Well,” you pause, twisting the makeup sponge in your hand before getting back to work. “I think we’re running out of eggs? And we only have a little bit of flour left.”

“Did you add it to the list on the fridge?”

“I already did, smartass. You were the one who told me to talk.” you laugh slightly when you see him glaring at you, and you move your other hand to rest on his shoulder. “Stop looking all grumpy like that. You’re gonna make me mess up.”

“I am not ‘looking all grumpy’.”

“Oh, you definitely are.” you chide, dabbing his cheek with your makeup sponge. “Ooooh is my grumpy face mad at me?”

“Shut up and just get this over with, will you?” Scaramouche averts his gaze. “Absolute terror.”

You move on to doing his eyeliner before you continue talking, “I could help you cook dinner tonight if you want.”

“Absolutely not,” he answers curtly. “You’re still banned from the kitchen.”

“The thing that happened with the air fryer wasn’t even that bad.” you protest.

“Do I need to remind you what happened? You quite literally –”

“Okay fine, maybe I should leave the cooking to you today. But one day you’ll lift my ban from my own fucking kitchen.”

“Not happening until you learn how to actually cook.”

“Gonna need a good teacher for that, so why don’t you teach me?” you jest

He gives you an incredulous look before responding, “Sure. Whatever. Are you done with my eyeliner yet?”

“Stop moving and I’ll get done quicker.”

✧— previous — masterlist — next —✧

summary: being the world-famous singer-songwriter "zenith", the limelight has been on you ever since the start of your career. however, the media becomes relentless when leaks of music you never meant to release begin to circulate. your friend scaramouche, meanwhile, seems to have gotten stuck while writing his second book. with a deadline fast approaching, he comes to you with a deal: act as if you're dating him so he can gather reference material and, in turn, he'll help keep the press' eyes off of your leaks until you release your next album. a win-win in your book, so why not help a friend out?

author's notes:

they're definitely not in love guys trust me

taglist — currently CLOSED:

@aestherin @unsterblich-prinz @yourstrulykore @krnzysh @syriiina @yumiaur @featuredtofu @kodzusmiles @meigalaxy @fangygf @motherscrustytoenailclippings @samyayaya @hiimera @beriiov @e0nssadrift @dazaisboner @nillajhayne @chluuvr @nillajhayne @deffenferofjustice @romyoia @xiaomainlmao @hotgirlshit5 @potabletable @letthewindlead @esuz @toriiee @kclremin @angelkazusstuff @phoenix-eclipses @sakiimeo @mayuumine @ako-ang-mahal-ko @only-cherry-blossom @keiiqq @what-just-happened-huh @n3r0-1417 @haunts-gh0st @layla240 @mamafly @duckyyyx @certified-shrimp @kgogoma @xtobefreex @aeongiies @mechanicalbeat1 @meidnightrain @nordicbananas @feiherp @erzarq

[fairy-princette]

i gave your name as my emergency phone call

AO3 link | 1 2 3 4 5 6 (you are here)

Stan receives a postcard from his twin brother - who he’s not seen in a decade - asking for his help. But like with everything else in his life, he runs into some trouble on his way there

6. epilogue // it’s all the same anyways

Ford was sat on the couch warming his hands on the propane heater Stan had dragged through for them - he really needed to get his heating bill sorted. The seat next to him dipped as Stan sank into it, handing him an opened bottle of beer.

“Cheers.”

They chinked the bottoms of the bottles together.

“I was talking to Fids earlier,” Stan started, “Him and Emma-May are working out custody stuff. They reckon Oregon and California are too far to do weekends or anything, but they were thinking maybe Tate cold spend the summer here. ‘Pparently he’s a pretty outdoorsy kid - we could take him on some more child-friendly adventures?”

“I don’t see why not - we managed to find the Jersey Devil without any adult intervention, perhaps a child’s point of view could be beneficial to our research.”

“Sounding awful close to child labour there, Pointdexter.”

Ford waved him off. “Speaking of research, I acquired the books from the library I mentioned yesterday.”

Stan laughed. “Still can’t believe you had to steal library books - or that you have a lifetime ban!”

“There were extenuating circumstances!”

“Sure there were, Sixer. Just accept that you’re just as much a criminal as the rest of us Pineses.”“At least I’m in good company. Anyway, it’s a bit dense to get through but- here,” he handed Stan an open book documenting all the laws and by-laws of Gravity Falls, dating back to it’s founding, pointing out the correct subsection. “There’s some rather odd laws in here and a lot of them never seem to have been over-turned, which is good news for us.”

He watched his twin squint at the page, trying to read the small text on thin paper.

“Here,” he pulled his glasses off his face, proferring them to Stan.

“I don’t need no nerd glasses, Ford.” Stan tried to push him away.

“That book is two inches from your face, just-” he shoved the glasses onto his twin’s face.

“Oh.” Stan blinked a couple times, pulling the book away to a more reasonable distance. His mouth moved slightly as he parsed through the text. “So basically, according to this law from eighteen whatever, twins are just two halves of the same person, and both hafta be accused of committing the same crime before either can be tried for it?”

“I- yes. How did you understand that so quickly? It took me thirty minutes to read that page.”

Stan shrugged. “It’s just English, Sixer.”“That is not English, that is legalese and whoever invented it deserves their own personal nightmare dimension.”

“Eh, lawyers are just another flavour on con-man. Like I said, you just gotta know how they think.”

“Well from my understanding, as long as you are a permanent resident of Gravity Falls, any past records of your crimes should be null and void.” Ford looked down at his beer, playing with it in his hands. “There’s still a lot of research for me to do here to work on my Unified Theory of Weirdness, and was wondering if- I know you said you would stay until the summer, but I was thinking that perhaps, if you weren’t opposed-”

“I’d love to stay.”

Ford looked over to Stan sat next to him. “I know it’s not the Stan O’ War and I can’t promise any treasure-”

“Ford.” Stan smiled at him. “It was never about the boat, or the treasure, or even the adventures really. It was about being here with you.”

The two relaxed back into the couch, sitting in a comfortable quiet.

“I’m glad you wrote me that postcard.”

“And I’m glad you called. Now all I have to worry about is the guy coming to steal my eyes.”

Stanley sprayed his beer over the floor in front of them.

“What?!”

[linkemon]

Musical AU headcanons 1

Friendly reminder that English is not my first languge. You can check my Masterlists both in English and Polish here.

Warning! Musical AUs do not completely follow the plot of the originals. They are adjusted enough to make the characters more canonical.

The Greatest Showman ✧ Yun Jin

✧ Yun Jin owed a lot to her parents. Especially her passion for music. When financial problems appeared in her family, she decided to take out a loan and open her own traveling circus. No one found out that her pledge was a cargo of her parents' trading ships from Liyue that had actually sunk.

✧ Her opera performances were not enough, so she started to gather a troupe of people desperate to make money like her. Albedo with her magic tricks, Sayu balancing on a tightrope, Itto and his great strength, Nilou with her dancing and Beidou who, as a former captain, managed them all. Together, they were a strange yet wonderful team that people wanted to see.

✧ To climb to the top of her career, Yun Jin paid a visit to a rich woman named Ningguang. The lady wasn't convinced at first. However, when she met the captain Beidou, she changed her mind. After negotiations, she decided to push some gold in their direction for further development.

✧ However, the more attention a troupe attracted, the more stigmatized it was. An emotionless boy, a dwarf girl, a dangerous giant, a dancer from a distant country and a former pirate. The group couldn't stand it and raised a protest to the people when Yun Jin was away. In retaliation, everything she worked for was burned.

✧ Currently, the girl is sitting at Xiangling's restaurant, wondering what to do next. She must have made a mistake getting used to the luxuries Ningguang gave her and forgot about her friends.

Heathers ✧ Childe

✧ Childe has been attending Teyvat High School for as long as he can remember. He was considered a quiet and calm boy. Until the day when he accidentally met Il Capitano in one of the parking lots and everything began to change.

✧ When he accidentally got into a fight with opponents of the Harbinger gang, it turned out that he is not as bland as he was called. Il Capitano personally offered him to join them on a trial basis. La Signora did not mind but Scaramouche did. However, his voice turned out insignificant.

✧ It didn't take long for Zhongli to realize that something was wrong with his friend. It worried him how he started faking hall passes for his new bunch of friends. He had access to them because the teachers gave him the role of running the club. Zhongli tried to talk to him but it didn't help much.

✧ The Harbingers have always cared about their image. It was impossible to miss them because they wore stylized jackets. The day Childe got his, the three of them gave him a new nickname. He was to be Tartaglia from now on.

✧ They gave him his first task. It was Scaramouche who invented it and the boy felt it would be more difficult than it should be. However, it turned out to be simple, but cruel and testing loyalty.

✧ Tartaglia is tasked with introducing Osial, an old friend of Zhongli, to high school. Ever since the fight, Zhongli had avoided Osial like the plague. The attacker was banned from approaching and entering the school grounds. What should he do now? Stick with the new group or go back to the way it was?

Dear Evan Hansen ✧  Chongyun

✧ Chongyun was never interested in Xingqiu's life. The boy had pushed him once by accident in the hallway and that was it. When a few days later he came to sign his cast as an apology and read his letter, fresh from the printer, which was a form of therapy, he was furious. How was Chongyun supposed to know that the dark-haired one was the author of the book he was reading? Xingqiu immediately stated that he must have been following him and would now tell everyone.

✧ Shortly after, Chongyun was summoned to Principal Keqing's office. It turned out that Xingqiu had committed suicide and a letter was found on him. He couldn't explain that they didn't know each other at all. He lied that they were friends. It turned out to be a big mistake.

✧ The Xingqiu's family wanted to meet him. Rich people who run one of the department stores invited him to their place.

✧ After that, he was regularly invited to dinners and gatherings. He wondered how he could get out of this situation but he only made it worse. He even wrote a whole series of e-mails to prove to his family that Xingqiu and him really were buddies.

✧ Everything was stable until his aunt Shenhe got annoyed at how often he was away. It was true that he much preferred spending time away. And, although parents of Xingqiu considered him close, it was a huge lie.

✧ Now, Xingqiu's parents offered to pay for the expensive exorcist training that Chongyun always wanted. Shenhe told him to refuse. He doesn't know what to do.

[baconpncakes]

Amber Lives AU - Part 2

(read part 1)

Amber survived the bus crash! House found a way to save her but still feels responsible for her injuries, so Wilson and Cuddy guilt him into helping her get back on her feet.

Please accept the following vignettes of silliness and genuine human connection between characters who deserve it. Also lesbianism.

~

House comes into Amber's room to check on her while his team runs tests.

Amber: "What's wrong with your patient?" House: "Well, she's got a case of terminal bitchiness." She rolls her eyes. A: "Your other patient." H: "My team has a case. I am playing babysitter." A: "C'mon, House. I have a concussion. I can't work. I can't read for extended periods of time and I'm banned from screens. I know you're as bored in here as I am." H: "...Patient is thirty-five years old. Presenting with-"

~

Amber: “I don't blame you, you know.” House: "....." A: "It was my choice to go pick you up. My choice to follow you onto the bus after you told me not to." H: "...." A: "You weren't driving that truck, House."

~

House: “You’re moping. What’s the matter?” Amber: “I’m not moping. I’m bored.” H: “Bored in a hospital? And you call yourself a doctor. I’d have you do my clinic hours if I thought we could get away with it.” A: “I would love to see Cuddy hunt you down after finding me down there.” H: “But seriously. What’s the mood about?” A: “If I didn’t know any better I’d think you care.” H: “You’re acting weird. I’m curious.” A: “Can’t figure it out on your own?” H: “Probably could. But your life is terrible for a lot of reasons right now and I don’t really feel like narrowing it down.” A: “...I haven’t had any visitors.” H: “What are you talking about? The team came.” A: “Out of pity! Because they'd feel bad if they didn't come. Nobody here likes me and that's fine. I don't need them to." H: “......”

~

House sits by Amber's bedside, brow furrowed, chin and hands resting on his cane, deep in thought. He’s looking at Amber’s leg, as if he can see her stitches through the sheet.

Amber: "...My leg is going to be fine." House: "What?" A: "I know that's what you're worried about. You think that you've crippled me. You think you've ruined my life and turned me into you. Well, you haven't. Even if my leg never fully heals, it wouldn't ruin my life." H: "......Guess we aren't the same after all."

~

House is alone in his office, his mind is clearly worlds away. Cuddy enters.

Cuddy: "Are you okay?" House: "One patient is dying and I don't know why and the other one is a doctor, notoriously the greatest people to treat. I'm totally psyched. Can't you tell from my radiant smile?" C: "I know we said that you should help Amber-" H: "No. You guilted me into keeping her company." C: "-but that doesn't mean you need to spend all of your time here! For god's sake House you've barely left at all since she woke up." H: "I have two patients. You should be thrilled I'm spending so much time here." C: "I'm worried. You can't keep going like this House. You're still recovering." H: "The stimulation didn't do any damage. I'm fine." C: "House." He looks at her. C: "You were on that bus too." He keeps looking. She repeats herself, softer this time. C: "Are you okay?" He looks away.

~

House sits down at Wilson’s lunch table.

House: "Does Amber have any friends other than you?" Wilson: "Are you doing that thing where you confuse yourself with Amber? I have to say it's getting old. Don't you have any new material?" H: "I'm not kidding." W: "Neither am I! The gag has run its course!"

~

Thirteen sits in Amber’s room, reading a book. Amber stares at her. There’s no indication of how long this has been going on.

Amber: "Why are you here?" Thirteen: "I thought you could use some company." A: "Out of everyone here, you have the most right to hate me." 13: "Well I don't." A: "But you don't like me." 13: "You tried to make me question my sanity by taunting me with reminders of the patient I killed. To get a job.” A: "You won in the end. I got fired. You got to stay." 13: "So that makes it all go away? I won, you lost, so we'll call it a wash?" A: "I didn't say that! ...Like I said. You have every right to hate me." 13: "And like I said. I don't." A: “....” 13: “Besides, you’re the one who told House that you hated me.” A: “Spirit of competition. You should be flattered that I considered you worthy of my hate.” 13: “Of course, my mistake.”

~

House: "So. You tried to pick a fight with Thirteen." Amber: "She told you?" H: "Nope! But I know she was in here earlier. And after our conversation earlier it doesn’t seem like something you’d just let slide." Amber nods, relenting to his point. H: "You don't like pity. I get it. But if you think that’s what they’re doing, you’re wrong." A: "Please. Why else would they come here? You sure as hell didn't tell them to. And I'd like to think James is more subtle than that." H: "Obligation maybe. That's what it is for Taub and Foreman at least. For Kutner, I think it's genuine concern. For Thirteen? My guess is curiosity. Could be concern. Maybe even this empathy I've been hearing so much about." A: "Since when are people allowed to have pure motivations?" H: "...Did even half of those motivations sound pure to you?" Amber looks at him for a moment. A: "You are hellbent on showing me that it's not pity. You want me to think they're good people, because you believe that they are. You need me to think that they don't pity me and that they don't hate me, because if they don't hate me or pity me after all I've done then there's a chance they don't hate or pity you either."

~

H: "Wilson must be the worst boyfriend ever. Why am I spending more time in here than him these days."  A: "Very funny. He's just taking some space. He still visits, because of course he does, but I don't exactly blame him for not being here every second."  H: "What are you talking about? You almost died. Doesn't feel like Mr. Needy would want to be away from you after that."  A: "Oh shit. He hasn't told you."  H: "Hasn't told me what?"  A: "..." H: "Oh my god. You guys broke up."  A: "Yes."  H: "After all of this! You break up? What the hell happened?"  A: "Dying changes everything. I was dead, House. Legally, medically dead. And it made me realize some things. I love James and I always will. But he's not what I need."  H: "You really are a cutthroat bitch! Do you have any idea what he sacrificed for you?"  A: "I do. And I know how much that hurts you. Because it is you. And you are everything to him. He was willing to sacrifice everything for me! And even then I still didn't feel how I should!"  H: "What does that even mean!"  A: "Oh my god, House! I'm gay! I'm a lesbian! I can never love James as much as I should because he's not a woman!"  H: "...Give me a minute to process this before I start making jokes about the best relationship of Wilson's life being with a lesbian." A: "I should send a warning before you leave. Give him a chance to prepare himself.”

~

It’s late. House solved the case and his team started the treatment. House went to tell Wilson that his failed lesbian relationship solved the case and is now going to Amber’s room to tell her the same thing. Only when he enters, Thirteen is already there.

Unlike earlier, where she was in a seat a few feet from the bed, lounged back with a book in her hands, this time she’s sat right at the bedside, leaned forward, actually engaging with Amber.

H: “Didn’t realize you were double-booked.” 13: “Sorry, I was just updating Amber on the case.” H: “The case that I solved.” 13: “That’s debatable.”  H: “My epiphany.” 13: “That I had six hours ago before you dismissed it.”  H: “It was stupid six hours ago. If you really believed it, you would have defended it. Which you couldn’t.”  Both women roll their eyes. Amber addresses Thirteen. A: “As entertaining as this is, you better check on your patient.” House cuts Thirteen off before she can start talking. H: “Nope. Kutner is monitoring tonight. Thirteen is off the clock.”  Amber blinks in surprise and looks to Thirteen as if to confirm that House isn’t lying. Thirteen squints at the stupid grin on House’s face and then looks away and shrugs. 13: “Just wanted to drop by. But I probably should get going.” She turns to Amber. 13: “I’ll see you tomorrow. Maybe by then you’ll feel well enough and stay awake long enough to read something.” Thirteen picks up the book that she was reading earlier and places it on Amber’s bedside table. She gives her a small smile and leaves. House watches Amber watch Thirteen leave. Amber realizes that she’s being watched. She scoffs at House. A: “It’s like you think she’s the only bi woman in the world.” House nods at the book beside her. H: “People like you.”

[belamuse]

PLEASE, FORGIVE ME, IT’S MY FIRST TIME ON EARTH

Forever in awe of the Coastal Redwoods.

I am still learning how to be alive– how to allow my heart to leave my sight, to attend school, to grow up. I cannot comprehend the arguments used to bomb the lungs of children, to leach the Earth of her marrow, to ban books about love. Some days, I am paralyzed by grief. There appear to be pages missing from my manual. Perhaps I was improperly configured when they installed my software. I do what I can. I am asking the experts. I am Googling for answers. I am trying my best. Please forgive me, it’s my first time on Earth.

For as long as I can remember, I’ve felt out of place–like the only actress on stage without the screenplay. Some days, I wish I could have Please forgive me, it’s my first time on Earth permanently emblazoned on my chest. A reminder to others to be patient with me as I fumble through existence. 

I don’t ever remember a time where it felt easy to be human. As a child, I was often confused by other people. I did not understand why America’s Funniest Home Videos was popular. I could not comprehend what was funny about watching people get hurt. When I began to watch the news, it was unfathomable to me how humans could allow humans to go hungry. And war, why were we always fighting over lines on a map, wealth, weapons? I expected it to get easier as I aged. It never did. Rather, it became increasingly more confusing. Academia, corporate culture, romantic relationships, parenting. I cannot begin to guess how many hours I lost asking Google for answers. How can I study more efficiently? How do I network? Is my relationship healthy? How can I communicate with my child when he’s hitting me without losing my mind?

For most of my life, I thought it was just me. I didn’t share the inner workings of my mind with anyone. I was embarrassed to admit how uncomfortable I felt, the daily burdens of living in a bipedal body. Somehow I must have been improperly configured, so I committed to learn the rules. Perhaps I too could learn to be the right kind of human. I self-lobotomized as a passion project, convinced at some point I would feel normal and less like an impersonation of what a human should be. 

I numbed and escaped through avoidance and alcohol. It gnawed at my rib meat for years, but when it threatened to become a death sentence, I understood silence and numbing were no longer sustainable. Bit by bit I opened up, shared with those I thought most likely to understand– my closest friends and my peers in recovery. I explained how I felt I’d spent my life trying to learn the rules to a game I did not understand and would never win. And almost every time, the response was SAME, SAME, SAME.

We often forget we are all new, novice explorers in uncharted terrain. We watch our children experience the world with freshly hatched eyes. We parent them, do our best to impart our wisdom as they begin their journey on Earth. But we still know so few of the answers. Our eyes and ears and tongues are still dawning.

There are times I envy other species. How they do not require a personal development industry to help them navigate their existence. The honey bee collects nectar. The mama bear feeds and nurtures her cubs. The orangutan plays. They do not read books about increasing productivity, how to be the best parent, or how to decrease stress. They do not have development plans and performance assessments. They simply exist. 

It feels less lonely knowing there are others who find being human as uncomfortable as I do. The experience of shifting body and skin, how the playbook we grew up with as children is now outdated. On tough days, friends and I send each other long voice notes detailing when insecurities run rampant, when howling darkness sets in and we have lost all sense of the sun. It’s here, in the messy midst of it all, that I’m finding how to be human– where former versions of our past selves decompose. I welcome all of it— the blooming, the molting, the rotting, the growth. And on days when I struggle, please remember, it’s my first time on Earth.

Picture: Redwood National Forest Circa June 2020

[goopychaosgremlin]

Also the thing is Republicans literally try to make it harder for POC to vote. Why do people think they do that if voting doesn't matter? Why would they be gerrymandering and taking away ballot boxes and making it illegal to pass out water if it didn't matter? A lot of the time, it feels like Democrats don't want to help normal people. But they also don't want to make being trans illegal or repeal interracial marriage or take away one party divorce or make child marriage legal or force ten year olds to deliver rape babies or let our country be run on biblical values.

We definitely should be doing more than just voting (though I wonder what people who don't vote actually do other than voting because I've never heard them actually suggest alternatives) But it's crazy to think that conservatives spent decades and millions of dollars making it harder for non Republicans to vote for no reason. And your "protest" is doing exactly what they want! How is it a protest to agree with the nazis that say you shouldn't be allowed to vote?? Until there's an actual plan for a revolution (which seems to be a long ways away when most leftists prefer to argue with each other than actual facists and class solidarity is a major requirement in a successful revolution), you're just letting things fall more to shit and not even trying to slow it down. It's like some of these people WANT things to get worse. Or are completely apathetic to it. You think it doesn't matter who wins until they're bringing back residential schools and banning languages other than english again. (Or overturning Roe v Wade. Or using carcinogens for roads to spite the woke. Or banning books. Or arresting black people for voting with ballots sent to them by the government after telling them they were allowed to vote. Or blocking bills to make it illegal to marry children.)

I'm not blaming people who refuse to vote for how evil Republicans are, but you're making their jobs a lot easier when you don't vote and I just genuinely can't understand why you would want to do that. Can you really tell me you don't see a difference between Minnesota and Florida? None at all?

Saying "voting doesn't matter" might reach your younger peers online but it certainly hasn't reached Clangus Hargbarg who was part of the kkk in 1951 and still sends in his ballot. He hasn't missed a one.

[ear-worthy]

Never Post Podcast Debuts: Why The Internet Can Be So Good, Bad & Evil

Think about the biggest disappointments so far in our lives. Not your life. Sure, you didn't get that job because you never went to the interview, but we're talking about our society. 

Maybe it's that flying cars and jetpacks are still relegated to Bond movies. Or the Marvel Cinematic Universe went down like the Hindenburg in 2023. Or Elon Musk went from genius to someone who makes less sense than your grandpa.

Just like Apple's old slogan -- "There's an app for that" -- we've updated it for podcasting -- "There's a podcast for that."

I have a new podcast for you that should make your ears burn.

  Never Post, a groundbreaking member-supported, employee-owned podcast, is making its mark in the podcasting space with a mission to redefine discussions surrounding the internet. In bi-weekly episodes, Never Post explores the weird, wonderful, and contradictory aspects of the online experience from philosophical, legal, linguistic, and artistic perspectives, among others. 

What does that all mean? Simply, why is the online experience so time-saving, helpful, supportive, and informative, and, at the same time, a Dante's Inferno of trolls, incels, conspiracy theorists, racists, Russian bots, Chinese Bots, and Elon Musk.

Well, Never Post will draw connections and pose questions, hoping to unravel the complexities of technology and human relationships. Through engaging conversations that foster collective curiosity, Never Post aligns itself with a community of listeners marveling at, being frustrated by, or simply navigating the intricate landscape of the internet.

Made by a collective of writers, independent producers, researchers, composers, and inquisitive creators, Never Post’s staff live online. They set out to understand why the internet – and the world, because of the internet – is the way it is.

The show is hosted by Mike Rugnetta (Fun City, Reasonably Sound), a five-time Webby award-winning co-creator of the YouTube series Idea Channel (PBS Digital Studios), original cast member of the renowned Know Your Meme web series, and internet video pioneer. Rugnetta is joined by senior producer Hans Buetow, an award-winning podcast veteran whose work at The New York Times and American Public Media has reached millions of listeners.

Prior to never posting himself, executive producer and Charts & Leisure founder Jason Oberholtzer grew a community of nearly a million followers on Tumblr, and has published two books related to the internet as a creative space.

Never Post explores why the internet – and the world, because of the internet – is the way it is. In addition to reporting on current events, the show facilitates conversations about what it's like Being Online in 2024, looking at the internet through the lenses of art, philosophy, fashion, linguistics, and more. Big ideas meet personal stories, with tech lawyers, security researchers, artists and others as guests.

Led by a team of dedicated, long-time creators, Never Post is committed to modeling a content-production process that is sustainable, and inclusive both on the mic, and behind it. The team of Never Post is also working towards providing resources for those who want to learn how to tell stories with audio, or run their own audio-first productions. Never Post is available on all podcast distribution platforms starting January 31, 2024, with exclusive premium content accessible at www.neverpo.st for members and subscribers.

Check out Never Post. It's employee-owned, so it's not some media play toy owned by a narcissistic billionaire. Plus, it'll explore the internet for us. Thank goodness, because I don't want to deal with Nigerian Princes, QAnon sycophants, flat earthers, people who don't read books but still want to ban them, people who fire off a Bible quote for every possible situation, evildoers tricking you into clicking that one link, deepfakes, photos of Aunt Rose's colonoscopy, and Walmart clearance items that even China won't take back.

[allyear-lff]

Lady Chatterley's lover

Summary: the marriage between a man of aristocratic background and a free thinking woman from London collapses when he returns from the war disabled by his injuries, the woman takes solace in a relationship with a servant, also a war veteran, which leads to scandal and to all the lives involved changed forever.

Plot and musings: so most people know about the book and its travails not to be banned, I read it a long time ago and don't remember all the sordid details that so enraged (and continue to enrage) polite society and obtuse obscenity authorities in many places, the problem for a film retelling this tale (because goodness know how many adaptations there have been) is that it has to find a new take in the story, or it has to give us a different one, which in a way defeats the purpose of doing an adaptation, but anyway, people will try and this is one of such attempts.

The plot isn't very complicated, Clifford Chatterley is a young man from an aristocratic family, he is getting married to Connie (Constance) that throughout the film is presented as an independent free thinking woman more in tune with 20th century attitudes than with the 19th or even 18th century preoccupations of her handsome new husband, unfortunately for them they are getting married in times of war and Clifford departs to the war front only to return disabled by the horrific injuries he has suffered and wheel chair bound for life.

At this point they (he really) decide to move to a Chatterley family home where Clifford tries to start to run the affairs of the family as it would be expected of him, he manages to do so with the help of Connie but she is getting bored, a situation not helped by the refusal of Clifford to let her go to London where all her social and cultural life used to be. This tense situation is further worsened by Clifford's character hardening as a consequence of dealing with his disability and by the admission that they can't have heirs, Clifford suggests that Connie could conceive a heir with somebody else and nobody should know he wasn't the father.

This conversation and the longing of Connie for an intimate relationship she can't have with Clifford makes her fertile ground to become adventurous and by chance she gets friendly with the gamekeeper, Mellors, who is a good looking Scottish fellow, a handsome educated war veteran to whom Connie opens herself unreservedly, this all could have ended there, or could have continued as a secret affair, but they realise that they need each other more than they would have expected, so they get careless until they can't hide the affair at which point he is fired and she is ostracised, but Connie can't have any of this and just leaves Chatterley's home (with the help of her formidable proto feminist sister), she had endeared herself with the servants in the house and they manage to find where Mellors lives, Connie hurries there to find him in a farm in the Scottish countryside where they reunite to live their lives in dignified poverty.

Yeah, right.

So the positives of this unlikely scenario are the locations, all invariably period drama beautiful, the acting that one can't really fault, the characters which are constructed well enough.

So what is missing? Sex. Plain and simple. And foul language and all the things that made the book scandalous to some. To me it felt like an attempt to sanitise the story and to give it a middle class happy ending cottoned in all kind of justifications about why Connie would have a passionate affair with somebody so much below her social class. The poignancy of the book is its daring, this film feels like a declawed tiger, perfectly enjoyable but lacking in punch, Connie going after Mellors just because she can is missing here, she doesn't do it because she is a liberal goodie, she does it because she can plain and simple, and that disparity of power is never really felt, this couple is formed by equals in a world in which such a thing didn't really exist.

Rating: 3.5/5

71 of 168

Date: 6 December 2022

Venue: Curzon Camden

The list of films in the LFF 2022

[fific7]

Unexpected - Part 1

King Caspian x Reader

Summary: What happens if you push the respectful and well-behaved King Caspian a little too far? You’re about to find out.

A/N: This does not follow canon, it’s mainly a mix of fluff and angst with some lemon zest 🍋 Friends to Lovers AU.

Warnings: 18+ NSFW due to sexual content including debatable consent at first, loss of virginity and oral and unprotected* sex between consenting adults. Some drinking & swearing.

*Irl, please don’t go wild in the country without protection.

(My video edit)

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

You and every unwed woman in Narnia knew that the handsome King Caspian was being pressured by his advisors to find a Queen for himself.

Most knew that to become Queen of Narnia would be unattainable for them - no doubt that would be some Princess from another country - and you had no illusions about your own chances. Your father was one of the lords at court and owned a large amount of land near Cair Paravel, but you were not a Royal so you were sure you’d never be considered.

You and Caspian had been friendly when you were younger but you doubted he’d remember you, so much had happened between then and now.

You’d been restless at home recently, mainly because your parents had started speaking of finding you a husband. Appalled, you’d pestered, pleaded with and finally persuaded your father to arrange for you to see Professor Cornelius as you wanted something with which to fill your days instead of playing the piano, embroidery and reading.

Cornelius had suggested you come to work with him as his research assistant, and you’d leapt at the chance. It also meant that you would live at Cair Paravel, away from the slightly smothering atmosphere at home. Your mother had not spoken to you for a week before you left (or your father, whom she blamed for setting up the interview in the first place). But she’d reluctantly accepted that you were flying the nest, however you’d had to endure an extremely long lecture about how you should behave while living away from home.

It seemed that you would be able to eat, drink, speak and bathe and not much else.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

King Caspian made his way to Cornelius’ study, knocking once before entering. The older man looked up at him, smiling and greeting him. Caspian threw himself into the chair in front of the desk, having lifted three books from it first.

“You are in need of some time away from your advisors, Caspian?”

The King nodded, running his hands over his face. “They just go on and on and on about how I need a wife and an heir. I am sure I will find a wife one day but I have other things I wish to concentrate on at the moment.” “Your next voyage?” Caspian nodded, “Yes. There is still much to do. The construction of the Dawn Treader is well under way, but I have an itinerary to decide upon and courses to plot.”

“I have a new research assistant starting tomorrow, I am sure she will be able to help you with that. She is well read and knowledgeable of the many other lands you may wish to visit.” Caspian looked up quickly at him, “She?” “Yes, she is my Lord Tirian’s daughter.” Caspian smiled, “I remember her. We played silly games together when we were young, whenever her father brought her to the castle. It will be so nice to see her again.”

Cornelius, hiding a smile, replied, “Oh, I think you will be very pleased to see her again, my King.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Feeling nervous for some reason, you tapped on Cornelius’ door and heard “Come in” in response. Stepping into the room, you were amazed at the numbers of books, manuscripts and charts which occupied the small room. You could hardly see the diminutive Cornelius in amongst it all, and he saw you taking in the piles stacked everywhere.

He chuckled, “Yes, there are too many, my dear. I’m hoping you can help me catalogue and store them as I confess the situation is getting out of control.” You bowed your head to him, “I’ll be happy to assist, Professor Cornelius.” “I’m so glad to hear that. On another note, the King is looking forward to meeting you again. I’d quite forgotten until I spoke to him about you that you were childhood friends.” You smiled, “Well, I’m not sure the King would have actually called me his friend as such, but we did spend happy hours playing hide and seek and pretending to fight dragons.”

Cornelius nodded, “He remembers those times fondly, my lady. He was not allowed to play with many other children, and I’m certain he considered you a friend of his. Come, let us go and reintroduce you to each other.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Caspian looked up from the document he was reading at his desk. There had been a sharp knock at the door of his chambers and then it had opened, Cornelius striding into the room with another person following him. He was transfixed as he looked upon the grown-up face of his childhood playmate. He stood and walked around the desk towards the two of them, whispering her name as she curtsied in front of him.

He was still staring at her. Cornelius cleared his throat seeing that the young King was lost for words, but Caspian ignored him as he heard her soft voice, “It is so nice to see you again, your Majesty.” “Caspian,” he said immediately, “we never called each other anything except our first names, did we?” She was smiling up at him, and he was still a little overwhelmed. This was the skinny little girl he’d run about with all those years ago? Now, she was a woman - a beautiful woman. “No, Caspian, we didn’t.”

Cornelius interjected, “I’ll leave you two to get reacquainted, so I’m going back to my study. Your Majesty, my lady.” He gave a small bow and left the room.

Caspian indicated the large couch by the window and she made her way to it, gathering her dress underneath her as she sat down. He sat at the other end, and without thinking he reached out and took her hand. She smiled, wrapping her fingers around his hand as they’d done so many years ago, while running headlong through the orchards next to the castle.

“I’m so very sorry about your father, Caspian. He was always so kind to me. You must miss him dreadfully.” Caspian looked down quickly and she heard him say quietly, “Thank you. Yes, I miss him every minute of every day.” He met her eyes once more, “But we were able to right the wrongs done to him and Narnia, for which I am very grateful.” She smiled at him again, “And here you are, a King! My childhood friend. I really didn’t think you’d remember me.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Caspian’s dark brown eyes gazed into yours and he held your hand even tighter. “Of course I remember you! Do you think I’d forget my only friend?! Your visits and the little time we spent together made my life bearable.”

You were shocked, and felt so sad for him. “Oh, Caspian! I can’t have been your only friend, surely?” His eyes filled with tears and he looked down again, “Believe me, you were. I was so lucky that we’d met before my father died, so it would have looked strange if my uncle had banned us from meeting. He kept me totally isolated most of the time. I think he did that so people maybe wouldn’t notice when it was time to kill me.”

Cornelius hadn’t told you it had been this bad for him! Your own eyes were watering now as you thought about the hardships he’d had to face at such a young age. Without giving it much thought, you flung your arms round him and hugged him tightly. His head came to rest on your shoulder and your hand went to the back of his head, stroking his silky hair. His shoulders shook slightly and you knew he was crying, so you just held him until he was ready to sit back from you. He stood up abruptly and turned to look out of the window, a hand swiftly wiping his cheeks dry.

He gave a choked laugh, “I’m so sorry, this was supposed to be a happy reunion and we are both crying,” looking down at you as you also wiped tears away. “I’m sorry, Caspian. I mentioned your father and perhaps I shouldn’t have?” He shook his head, “No, I’m glad that you did. And at least we have now spoken of his passing and can remember and talk about happier times.” You smiled at him, “Yes, I shall enjoy that. Although maybe I should speak firstly about how worried I was on the occasion we came to visit, and you were not there. I asked as many guards and lords as I could where you were, but I was told to stop being a nosy child. My father would say nothing to me either, despite my tantrums!”

Caspian burst out laughing, “Oh I remember your tantrums so well! I’m impressed he didn’t give in to you in the face of one of those!” You slapped him lightly on the arm, also laughing, “Caspian! You’re supposed to be my friend!” He became serious again, “I most certainly am. I’m overjoyed to have you back in my life. So much has happened in the past few years, and there has been so much to do, but rest assured I would have tracked you down eventually.” His hand went to your face, stroking your cheek gently and you felt your breath catch. He looked so handsome. Very much a man now, rather than the adolescent boy you’d once known.

His head moved much closer to yours, and you thought for a moment that he was going to kiss you.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Caspian suddenly realised what he was about to do, and pulled back sharply. He should not kiss her.

They’d only just met again, but he knew that all his feelings for her were still there. He’d just pushed them down, deep deep down, so that he could carry out what he’d needed to do for Narnia and for his father’s memory.

He’d been in love with her when he was a boy, and now that he was a man - he knew that he still loved her. He’d nearly passed out when he’d seen her again today after being apart from her for so long. All those suppressed feelings had come raging back through his veins in an instant, overwhelming, all-consuming, setting his mind and body alight with a burning passion.

But she’d said he was her friend. So he doubted that she felt the same kind of love for him that he felt for her. He must bear that in mind and act accordingly, no matter how much he wished it wasn’t the case.

Stepping back from her, he let his hand fall from her face and smiled sadly at her.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

[baby-gator]

I have more thoughts on this. I think AI is a very nuanced and complicated topic. Obviously it should never ever replace people’s jobs or anything to do with artistic hobbies such as art, music, poetry, etc. I think it can have good uses, as I saw people talk about AI prosthetics. I think AI shouldn’t replace anyone but rather it should be a tool. Especially medically. As someone who will one day be unable to see completely due to rapidly deteriorating vision, I read an article that they’re using an AI scan to detect the cause of blindness that a doctor may not be able to see or notice. That sounds wonderful to me and I wish we could’ve had that sooner. It isn’t going to replace the doctor or their job, but assist them in what they do.

I also talked with a friend and they mentioned how the government should regulate AI. Obviously illegal content shouldn’t be generated at all and is already being regulated - I don’t think the government should have any access over AI (other than obviously regulating the illegal stuff) due to how many people use it. The government could easily manipulate the content to fit an agenda. It should be the companies responsibility to prevent it from being manipulated. Getting people to stop using AI is probably never going to happen. So, I’m trying to be on the positive side and think of ways it can be helpful and focusing on that. Environmentally, I think they could use different energy to run it if they had push back on it.

We also talked about the rampant superiority complex. I saw people mention how helpful it is for them, especially for people with a disability, and immediately someone is in their replies saying how awful it is and they should find alternatives. How they’re “better” because they don’t use it. Which, they probably do use it and are unaware of it. It’s everywhere. If you use google translate then you’re using generative ai.

While this one is a bit more of a controversial take I saw some people upset over the grocery list guy. Some people were saying we should ban AI because we’re getting dumber/can’t do anything ourselves. I agree that AI shouldn’t be used for everything but we also can’t control whether people can or cannot. While it was environmentally not good to use AI to generate a grocery list or recipes on a budget (which is what he did), we could make it environmentally friendly to do. Then what? Yeah, it’s lazy to do it. But we can’t control people.

I also think a good way to get people to choose to distance themselves from AI is to show alternatives instead. Speaking of recipes, I hate online recipes. Too many ads, long paragraphs before getting to the recipe, sometimes there’s no measurements, etc. In this case instead of telling them to google recipes, offer them to check out cook books. Libraries have them for free too. No ads, to the point, measurements are there, and they have pictures 🫶. I keep seeing hateful comments and dragging people down when they do use it, even if they didn’t know how it’s effecting the environment, and I think being kind about it will go a long way. Also accepting that not everyone will stop using it but you can do what YOU feel is right.

Will probably put my account on private after saying this because I don’t want to be swarmed when I’m about to go on vacation. I just needed to get that off my chest and out of my mind.

Someone please explain to me why when you explain that yeah AI is bad but it can also be good people jump on your ass.

Look, as an artist I don’t agree with AI “art” at all. It’s theft. But there are good uses to AI. Generative captions, speech to text and text to speech, and alt text are all things people with disabilities could use to make life easier for them. Which is all generative AI.

I genuinely do not understand why I keep seeing arguments that are hell bent on getting rid of AI entirely. Like yes, it’s bad for the environment. Use the same energy to make it good. They can most certainly limit AI use and make it environmentally friendly.

These are the same people complaining about AI but they use CAI too. Like bro please…just accept there are good and bad uses to AI. Ai “art” is certainly bad because it’s theft. And while generative AI is bad for the environment why can’t we use the same energy that people are using to get rid of it to just make it environmentally friendly.

[mckitterick]

Feel free to not answer this if you don't want to get into it, but what's with all those people saying that AO3 hosts child porn? Like where is it coming from? Is there actual child porn?, I highly doubt it, but like, you seem to know a bit more a bout these "ant1s" (the anti Vs. Pro debate is something I've been trying to avoid cuz it seems v. Stupid, but like, if they are accusing it of hosting CP, is not something I can easily ignore???)

hi anon, and thanks for asking! I appreciate your effort to learn more. I'll do my best to round up the arguments and share further reading

(full disclosure: I'm a pro author, editor, educator, and long-time fan of science and speculative fiction, not a fic writer. one of my friends helped establish the academic side of the Organization for Transformative Works, I know lots of fans and fanfic writers, I've volunteered at fan conventions and academic conferences for decades, and I teach fandom-related things, but I don't personally claim to be an expert)

let's start with this:

Any decent person is against actual childprn.

that includes those who run AO3 - it's specifically not allowed on that site. the site does allow fiction tagged with potential triggers (especially the Big Ones, which require "Archive Warnings")

people who claim AO3 hosts cp are the same folks who seek to ban books with uncomfortable sexual situations and LGBTQ characters just, y'know, living their lives

No decent person approves of actual cp or exploitation of children. that includes the Organization for Transformative Works, which operates AO3.

most folks also feel uncomfortable about a lot of media (including fiction) for a lot of reasons based on real concern for the well-being of others, especially kids and those with trauma in our past. AO3 requires creators to tag potentially triggering things. those who don't get strikes against them

it's easy to tag - and block tags - on AO3, so no one should have to deal with trauma triggers. children under the age of 13 not permitted to have an account or upload content. the volunteers who run AO3 do not tolerate abusive behavior or those who otherwise abuse the community:

so that's the background

I've posted a couple other things today about what some of the anti-fic and anti-LGBTQ contingent have been doing in attempts to limit free expression, but to consolidate here are some relevant pieces

first and most relevant to your ask:

lots about the debate on Fanlore:

basically it comes down to purity culture - that includes homophobes, transphobes, and general conservative antis - seeking to hetero-fy social media. just as they do elsewhere, their basic strategy is to call things they don't like scary names "to protect the childrens!" while they actively work to outlaw everything that actually helps protect kids, especially LGBTQ kids

so, no, AO3 does not host childprn

it does host a bunch of stuff I'd never want to read (even if I read much there), but then I don't have to because tags exist to help block such things

look deeper at the anti-fic folks to better understand why they say this - to be fair, much of it comes from honest concern, as with you, anon. just as many of us accidentally reblog TERF rhetoric because it seems well-intentioned, it's a natural reflex to feel uncomfortable or even disgusted by some stories

but if we let the anti-LGBTQ crowd win re: AO3, what's their next target? even discounting the massive loss of stories and community that would mean, if we begin banning uncomfortable fiction, who decides what's "uncomfortable" next?

I'd rather live in a world that contains both disgusting and LGBTQ-positive fiction than one that only allows straight-cis-white fiction and hard-right propaganda

I urge anyone with concerns like anon's to read the linked posts and talk to someone more deeply involved in fandom - Tumblr is one of the last bastions of pro-fic culture, so you're in the right place to learn more!

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Dishwashers have become Iphones

Apple is a true business innovator: For more than a decade, they have been steadily perfecting an obscure anticompetitive tactic, turning a petty grift invented by console games companies into a global, cross-industry mechanism for extracting rents and centralizing control.

I'm speaking of App Stores, of course, and not just any app store, but one that's illegal to compete with or switch away from. This started with console companies, who used technical tricks to ensure that they could skim a rake from every program you bought for your system.

Consoles used proprietary hardware or media formats to ensure that software vendors couldn't sell directly to you, that every sale would be forced through their storefronts or licensing systems.

These tactics acquired the force of law in 1998 after Bill Clinton signed the Digital Millennium Copyright Act (DMCA), whose Section 1201 made it a felony to traffick in "circumvention devices" that bypassed "access controls" for copyrighted works.

Broadly, that meant that you could go to prison (for five years!) for making anti-DRM tools. What's more, DMCA 1201's drafters rejected tying the law to acts of copyright infringement, making it illegal to remove DRM, even if you did so for a perfectly legal reason.

For example, if your games console had some code that ensured that the software you were running had been taxed by the manufacturer, then removing that code could become a criminal act - even though that has nothing to do with copyright infringement.

To make that concrete: copyright is supposed to help creators and audiences transact with one another. If you own a console and I wrote some software for it, then copyright should facilitate you paying me money for it and then running it on your console.

But if the console's manufacturer had designed its product so that it got to impose a tax on transactions like this, then I can't sell you my copyrighted work anymore unless I pay the tax. Doing so is a felony, but not because it infringes copyright.

No, it's a felony because it's bad for the manufacturer's shareholders. It's what Jay Freeman calls "Felony Contempt of Business Model."

Now, the defenders of this practice say it's not anticompetitive because I can invent and manufacture a different, competing console, sell it to you, and then sell you my code without paying tax.

But this isn't how competition works. Companies don't get to say, "You can compete with me, but only on the terms I set, and in the domains where I think I have an advantage." Excluding competition in "complimentary goods" (like apps) is 100% anticompetitive.

For several years after the passage of the DMCA, the abuse of Sec 1201 to create "Felony Contempt of Business Model" stuck mostly within the realm of games consoles, with the exception of mixed results in the printer ink market.

Then along came the App Store for Apple's Ios devices: these were designed to be locked to a single app store, so that people who made copyrighted works (apps) and people who wanted to buy them (Ipod/pad/phone owners) couldn't transact without going through Apple.

Apple's paternalistic pitch was that it would only use this power to benefit its customers. The press *loved* this story, because Steve Jobs posed himself as a daddy-figure who would use apps to get us all to pay for media again.

https://memex.craphound.com/2010/04/01/why-i-wont-buy-an-ipad-and-think-you-shouldnt-either/

The consensus that Apple should be able to decide how other companies could compete with it was advanced by its most loyal customers, who'd long considered themselves to be a kind of oppressed religious minority.

They insisted that there was no reason to allow a third-party app store because everyone who owned an Ios device loved using Apple's App Store.

But when anyone pointed out that if this was true, then there would be no reason to ban third-party stores (because they'd fail), they'd switch tactics, saying that any Ios user who switched stores was Doing It Wrong.

This is the Apple fanboy No True Scotsman argument: "Everyone loves the limitations of Apple's walled gardens, and if they don't, they're not really Apple customers. If they didn't want to be locked into the walled garden, they should have bought a different device."

To understand how weird this is, consider the inverse: we live in a market society based on property rights. Once I buy an Ios device, I get to decide which programs I run on it and who I buy them from. If Apple didn't like that deal, it shouldn't have sold me an Ios device.

This belief-system is intrinsically conservative, in the sense articulated by Frank Wilhoit: "There must be in-groups whom the law protectes but does not bind, alongside out-groups whom the law binds but does not protect."

https://crookedtimber.org/2018/03/21/liberals-against-progressives/#comment-729288

How else to explain the indifference of Apple trufans for the company's decision to reverse-engineer all of Microsoft Office's file formats and make compatible players for them, and their defense of Apple's strict prohibition on doing this to Ios?

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2019/06/adversarial-interoperability-reviving-elegant-weapon-more-civilized-age-slay

But even if you think Apple will never abuse the power to decide who can compete with it to make complimentary products that interoperate with its own devices, the norms, laws and precedents backstopping Apple's business-model innovations can by used by anyone.

In 2015, I wrote a Guardian microfiction that exposed the perils of allowing companies to choose their competitors. It was called "If Dishwashers Were Iphones."

https://www.theguardian.com/technology/2015/feb/13/if-dishwashers-were-iphones

It was a letter from the CEO of an "innovative" dishwasher company explaining why his customers were wrong to try to wash third-party dishes in his products.

The comments swiftly filled up with Apple defenders who decried it as an absurd, over-the-top analogy.

To those people, I say, behold, the Bob Dishwasher! It's a cute, countertop dishwasher aimed at single-person households, and it uses a proprietary cartridge for detergent dispensing, at about $0.67/wash - about $242/year.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hVup5ya0WVQ

The company makes a lot of familiar, paternalistic claims to justify selling a non-refillable, single-use electronics package that becomes immortal e-waste once you've used it up and replaced it: the precision electronics and proprietary detergent ensure optimal performance.

dekuNukem bought a Bob and decided that he - and not the manufacturer - should decide whether the "advantages" of throwing out the cassette and buying a new one were worth it. He reverse-engineered it and made a defeat device he calls a "rewinder."

https://github.com/dekuNukem/bob_cassette_rewinder

The tale of how he did this makes for a fascinating read, especially the analog sleuthing he did using product safety labels to reverse-engineer the "proprietary" composition of the detergent and rinse-aid, which turn out to be commodity products marked up by 7700%!

Extraordinarily, he's actually selling the Rewinder, for $30. This shouldn't be extraordinary, but it is, thanks to the penalties under DMCA 1201 (and the UK equivalent law, derived from Article 6 of 2001's EU Copyright Directive).

https://www.tindie.com/products/dekuNukem/bob-rewinder-renew-your-bob-dishwasher-cassette/

It's not just dishwashers, either. Would-be digital rentiers have figured out that they can turn their shareholders' preferences into legal obligations to their customers by engineering their products so they have to be used in specific ways...or else.

For example, KLIM makes a motorcyclist's airbag vest that deactivates itself if you stop making subscription payments (of course, this means that anyone who exploits a defect in KLIM's IT can shut off all its airbag vests, everywhere).

https://twitter.com/TrashGoat00/status/1387301889356689410/photo/1

If that sounds extreme to you, it's really not. Tesla has many safety features that are marketed as downloadable content, which it remotely deactivates when a car changes hands through a private sale:

https://www.theverge.com/2020/2/6/21127243/tesla-model-s-autopilot-disabled-remotely-used-car-update

If you find yourself scrambling for reasons that it's OK for Tesla to do this with its cars, but not for KLIM to do it with its airbag vests, allow me to gently remind you that Tesla owners are not an oppressed religious minority, either.

This kind of rent-seeking is just getting started. As I tried to illustrate in my novella UNAUTHORIZED BREAD (part of my 2019 book RADICALIZED), there are limitless ways for Apple's pioneering business innovation to destroy our lives:

https://arstechnica.com/gaming/2020/01/unauthorized-bread-a-near-future-tale-of-refugees-and-sinister-iot-appliances/

And as I wrote in my story "Sole and Despotic Dominion," this is a frontal assault on the idea of personal property - it creates a world where property is the exclusive purview of remorseless, transhuman colony organisms (AKA corporations).

https://reason.com/2018/11/17/sole-and-despotic-dominion/

However, that future is anything but assured. Apple is being sued by Epic for antitrust violations over its Felony Contempt of Business-Model system:

https://www.nytimes.com/2021/05/02/technology/apple-epic-lawsuit-app-fees.html

And European competition regulators have opened an enforcement action against the company on the same basis:

https://www.cnbc.com/2021/04/30/eu-says-apples-app-store-breaches-competition-rules.html

Meanwhile, copycats who created their own Felony Contempt of Business Model walled gardens, like Valve did with Steam, are facing their own lawsuits, courtesy of Wolfire:

https://arstechnica.com/gaming/2021/04/humble-bundle-creator-brings-antitrust-lawsuit-against-valve-over-steam/

We've come a long way in a decade, and the No True Scotsman defense of the right of a dominant corporation to interpose itself between buyers and sellers, to control its customers' choices after a sale, is finally facing a real challenge.

https://locusmag.com/2021/03/cory-doctorow-free-markets/

[spacexcowgirl]

I’d Lie - G.W.

George Weasley x Reader

Summary: Y/N fell for her best friend, but she can’t let him, or anyone else, know that.

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: Alcohol usage/intoxication, swearing, mentions of food, LOTS of pining and unrequited love, I don’t think there’s anything else?

A/N: This is a song fic inspired by the wonderful unreleased song “I’d Lie” by Taylor Swift! mmmm this is my first fic without a *happy* ending and boy does that make me sad. But do not worry I quite literally already have a second part planned oops. Pictures are from Pinterest.

message to be added to tags :)

I don’t think that passenger seat 

Has ever looked looked this good to me

He tells me about his night

And I count the colors in his eyes

Y/N distracted herself with her fingers, tangling and untangling them and cracking her knuckles. It was all she could do to stop herself from completely ogling the boy sitting beside her on the couch. He was positioned towards her, one leg bent at the knee and resting between them on the couch. His hands moved back and forth wildly as he spoke, recounting some story that had happened during quidditch practice that night.

“Are you even listening?” George cut himself off, his tone light. When Y/N snapped her head up to look at him, she found that he was smiling, but still he looked a bit offended.

“‘course I’m listening.” Y/N reassured quickly, her eyes finally meeting his. That was all it took, and suddenly she was being reeled into those chocolate brown eyes, drowning in their various shades and hues, with no way out.

Y/N wasn’t sure when her feelings for her best friend shifted from friendly to something more. It was as if one day his messy hair transformed from something to giggle and roll her eyes at to something to swoon over. When his pranks made her admire his genius rather than scold the disturbance they caused. When his incessant teasing shifted from mild annoyance to exuberant joy from receiving any attention from him. Of course, these shifts all happened slowly, over a period of time, but the realization of them hit Y/N all at once. She was head over heels for the boy, and she hadn’t even realized she had been falling.

If she didn’t know any better, she’d be convinced that someone was slipping her a love potion. Or, maybe, she just hoped that, because Godric would it be less embarrassing than the reality of things. Because the reality was, Y/N really had just fallen for George Weasley, no potions or gimmicks needed, and while she was irrevocably in love with him, he had no clue. 

“Seems like you zoned out for a second,” George lightly nudged her with his elbow, although a glowing smile remained illuminated on his face. “What’s on your mind?”

“Just…” Y/N racked her brain for an excuse, something believable, because she knew George could always see right through her. “Just classes, I guess. Umbridge. All of it. I guess I’m just stressed out.”

“So you’ve been letting me carry on about quidditch?” George sounded shocked, but his teasing smile was comforting. “Please, love, if you need something to take your mind off things, you should’ve just said so.”

Without Y/N even having to tell him what she needed, he was up and off the couch, rushing towards the boys’ dormitory steps. Y/N only had a moment to furrow her brows, before George was rushing back down them with a jumper in one hand and a bag of sugar quills, her favorite, in the other. Y/N exhaled a deep sigh, before the involuntary glow and warmth overtook her. Because no matter how much she longed to only view George as a friend, everything about him permeated her subconscious, lamenting and solidifying his place as more.

He’ll never fall in love he swears

As he runs his fingers through his hair

I’m laughing ‘cause I hope he’s wrong

Y/N and George walked side by side down the corridor, laughter bubbling from both of their chests. Y/N adored moments like these, when she could forget everything for just a moment and just bask in the presence of her favorite person. Ultimately, they always were ruined by her feelings hitting her like a truck, or by someone coming to steal him away, so she always tried to live in those few peaceful moments for as long as she could.

George nudged her with his elbow after making a joke, and just as she was about to respond she noticed the change in his demeanor. He was no longer laughing, but instead a small smirk had appeared on his face as he nodded a few feet ahead of them. Y/N followed his gaze, her eyes landing upon his twin brother leaned casually against the wall. In front of him was Angelina, his girlfriend, rocking on her heels as she giggled at something he said.

“Sickening, aren’t they?” George prodded, shaking his head a bit as Fred swooped down to steal a kiss on her lips.

“I think they’re cute.” Y/N tugged her books into her chest, tilting her head to the side as she watched the love-stricken couple. Angelina could have a tough exterior, and Fred could be a lot to handle, but they just got each other so well. Y/N would never say it aloud, but she envied them.

“You would think so,” George scoffed lightly. “You don’t have to listen to him ramble on about her every bloody second of the day.”

“Maybe you’re just jealous.” Y/N teased, turning her body away from the couple to face George instead.

“Hardly.” George rolled his eyes, shifting his books into one arm. He slowly raked his fingers through his newly cut hair as he spoke again, entrancing Y/N entirely. “Love’s just not in the cards for me right now. Someone’s gotta worry about products, and about making Umbridge’s day as awful as possible.”

Y/N laughed at his joke, although she felt a little sting in her heart. Sure, he had said ‘right now,’ and perhaps that should have incited some hope in her, but it didn’t. It just made her chest ache. She knew it was foolish, but she couldn’t just drop it. She had to push on, test her luck and hope that George would offer her any sort of solace.

“Come on, I think it would be nice.” Her voice was quiet, and she found she suddenly couldn’t meet his eyes. “Someone you could share everything with? Yanno, they could just be like… your person.”

George seemed to mull over her words for a moment, before swinging his arm around her shoulder and continuing to push down the corridor.

“Well, I already have you for that, right?” George beamed down at her. “Why would I need a girlfriend? You’re already my person.”

Y/N was certain her heartbreak could be heard throughout the school.

He looks around the room

Innocently overlooks the truth

Shouldn’t a light go on?

Doesn’t he know that I’ve had him memorized for so long?

The party was in full swing, blinding lights and near deafening music. It was risky, what with Umbridge slinking around every corner, desperate to give students a detention, but they needed this. Something about this year felt different, and not in a good way, and Fred and George knew one of their infamous parties was just small way to lift spirits.

Y/N scanned the crowd of people, nursing sips of her firewhisky every few moments. Parties weren’t necessarily her thing, but she couldn’t deny that she needed to unwind. As her eyes finally fell upon their desired target, she couldn’t help the warmth that bubbled in her chest or the smile that involuntarily rose on her lips. Once George met her gaze, he shot her a wink and beckoned her over, and she was quick to oblige.

“Having fun, darling?” George rested his weight against her, clearly much more drunk than she was.

“A bit,” Y/N giggled. “Not as much as you, I reckon.”

“What’s that s’pose to mean?” George slurred, giving her a drunken pout. 

“Nothing, nothing,” Y/N teased innocently, shifting her weight to better support the boy. She wrapped an arm around his back, using it to steady both him and her. “Maybe you should lay off the drinking for now though, what d’ya think?”

“Fineeeee.” George elongated the last vowel before grinning down at the girl. “Always taking care of me, aren’t you?”

Y/N hummed in response, a small smile of her own growing as she felt her cheeks begin to heat up. “What would you do without me?”

“Hm. Probably die. Fred’s doing, no doubt.” He leaned down to rest his head against the top of hers, shutting his eyes for a moment as he centered himself. “Honestly though, I’m really thankful for you. I don’t think I say that enough.”

Drunk George was always a bit sappy, but Y/N certainly wouldn’t complain. His words felt like a shock flowing through her nervous system, hitting every neuron and sparking her to life. Alternatively, she also felt completely useless in producing a response.

“Godric, I really do have the best friend in the world.” He hummed.

And just like that, the shock was sucked from her body and she was left feeling nothing but empty.

He sees everything black and white

Never let nobody see him cry

I don’t let nobody see me wishing he was mine

Y/N had searched for George for hours. After Gryffindors win over Slytherin, what should have been a wonderful celebration quickly went south. Y/N had watched from the stands as three team members held Fred back and Harry loosely clung to George, as both boys attempted to charge Draco. Of course, she couldn’t hear whatever he said that got the two so worked up, but from the look on George’s face she was certain it must have been bad. Everything seemed to move in slow motion once she saw Harry let go of George, and she watched with bated breath and wide eyes as  he lunged at the Slytherin boy.

Of course, she had heard about the twins’ and Harry’s lifetime ban from Quidditch, and she knew George must be feeling awful now. So, she had to find him. Even if he didn’t want to see her, or anyone, she had to be there for him.

She had checked just about every spot in the castle she could think of, sighing profusely each time that she came up empty. Fred and George knew the hidden corridors and passageways of the school better than anyone, and she was certain he had used that to his advantage. 

Just as she was about to give up, she decided to check one last spot that she knew of. She crept slowly up to the seventh floor, careful to make sure no one was following her. She paced back and forth three times, just as she had been taught, and breathed a sigh of relief when the door appeared. Quietly, she pushed it open, and her breath hitched in her throat when she caught sight of the familiar head of red hair. She had found him.

It didn’t appear he had heard her come in, and she used that to her advantage as she slowly surveyed the room. She felt her heart shatter into a million pieces as she took in the familiar sight of the burrow living room and heard George’s quiet sobs from his place before the fire. After the day he had, all he wanted was the warmth of his home.

“Georgie?” Y/N whispered quietly, letting the door shut behind her. 

Immediately, George straightened up and wiped at his eyes. She had never seen him cry before, and she knew there was a reason for that. Fred and him both felt they had to be strong all the time, they had to be the ones cracking jokes and making people laugh even when it was hard for them. When he glanced back, his face was red and splotchy, but a forced smile was plastered on his face.

“Hey, darling.” His voice sounded scratchy, and it was clear it was taking all of his power to keep it together. Y/N could see that his lip was busted, illuminated by the fire, and she wanted nothing more than to cup his face in her hands and nurse him back to perfect health. “Reckon you saw the fight earlier?”

“Your lip…” Y/N spoke softly, approaching him with tentative steps. She didn’t have the capacity to answer his question, not when he looked so broken and beaten down.

“Oh, it’s nothing.” George swiped his thumb over his lip, and Y/N didn’t miss his slight wince. “You should see the other guy.”

“You don’t have to do that.” She finally reached him, taking her place beside him on the carpeted floor. “You don’t have to joke and pretend everything’s fine, not with me.”

George studied her for a moment before a shuddering breath left his lips. As the tears began to pool once more, he could no longer meet her eyes. And that killed her.

“I don’t know why I’m letting this get to me so much.” He spoke, sounding entirely disappointed in himself. “But, the things he said, about my mum, my family. And then Umbridge…” His words cut off as the tears began to roll down his cheeks once more.

“I’m so sorry, George.” Y/N reached out and gently cupped his cheek, allowing her thumb to brush a few tears away. When he leaned into her touch, her heart soared. “You don’t have to shut yourself off, though. I’m here for you, always.”

“I know.” His voice was soft as he squeezed his eyes shut, willing the tears away.

Slowly, Y/N leaned forward and brought her forehead to his, letting her eyes shut as well. Her hand drifted from his cheek to the back of his neck, gently playing with the hairs at the base of it. The action seemed to calm him a bit, so she continued to do it. By the light and warmth of the fire, the two sat in silence. Neither needed to say anything, they just wanted to be near each other. 

“I love you, you know that?” George was the first to break the silence, not bothering to open his eyes or pull away from her touch.

“I know.” Y/N spoke quietly. “And I love you too.”

And Godric, did she mean it. But she was aware that they meant it in entirely different ways, and that George had no idea.

He stands there, then walks away

My God, if I could only say,

“I’m holding every breath for you.”

Months had passed since that night in the room of requirement, and while so much had changed, so much had stayed the same as well. Y/N had felt herself drifting from George everyday, and not because either of them wanted to. George and Fred were leaving, Y/N knew that, and they had to get everything in order to do so. So, Y/N had to push through everyday with him no longer constantly by her side, and she swore it was killing her.

A few nights prior, he had let her know that this was it, that him and Fred were really doing it. She had faked a smile, excitedly throwing her arms around his neck as she expressed how proud she was. And she was proud, but her chest ached and she swore she felt her stomach in her throat. It was selfish, sure, but she wasn’t sure how she was supposed to get through the year without him.

Now she stood in the corridor outside of the great hall, bouncing nervously on her heels as she watched him say his goodbyes to Lee. She had promised herself she wouldn’t cry, but there was already a stinging behind her eyes and she feared no matter how hard she tried to keep her emotions at bay, it would be futile. 

When George finally turned and took a few long strides to where she stood, her fears were confirmed. Her tears spilled involuntarily as she threw herself into his arms, burying her face in his chest.

“Hey, none of that,” George pleaded softly, gently scraping his fingers up and down her back. “You know I’ll write the second that I’m out of here, and it’s only a short bit before you graduate and I see you again.”

“I know, it’s just…” Y/N sniffled, forcing herself to imprint the moment in her brain. She wanted to remember his scent, and the way it felt to be wrapped up in his arms, and the sound of his voice. Perhaps it was cheesy, or overdramatic, but Y/N could feel her heartbreaking by the second, and holding onto ever piece of him that she could was the only thing keeping her together. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too, darling.” George chuckled softly. He pulled back slowly, planting his hands on her shoulders as he looked down at her. “You’ll be out of here before you know it, I promise.”

“You’re right, I know.” Y/N sniffled, wiping at her tears before finally meeting the boy’s gaze. The look he was giving her made her knees weak, and she found herself wanting to spill all of the contents in her heart to him.

He studied her face for a moment longer, but then Fred was calling his name and they both knew it was time. He gave her shoulders a soft squeeze and pulled her into a hug one last time, placing a kiss to the top of her head. Nothing further needed to be said, so he gently ruffled up her hair and gave her a reassuring smile, before turning back towards Fred and beginning to walk away.

The moment was ending, he was really leaving, and she hadn’t told him how she felt. Her heartbeat started to pick up, and her palms began to feel sweaty, because it felt as though it were now or never. She wanted to tell him. She had to tell him.

“George!” She called out, causing him to halt and whirl back around.

“Yeah?” He smiled warmly at her, a few paces ahead.

As she gazed into his blissfully unaware chocolate brown eyes, she found that she just couldn’t. She couldn’t drop this on him, not on one of the most important days of his life. So, she bit down on her lip before shaking her head and forcing a smile.

“Give us a show, yeah?”

“Always do.” George winked.

And just like that, he walked away. And Y/N was left feeling entirely empty.

First thought when I wake up

Is “My God, he’s beautiful.”

So I put on my make-up

And pray for a miracle

Months had passed since the fateful day that the Weasley twins left Hogwarts behind. Just as Y/N had predicted, her time left at the school dragged on horribly. Umbridge only seemed to get worse, even in the twins’ absence, and George was no longer there to comfort her. Still, she pushed through.

After graduation, Y/N was quick to get a job at a coffee shop in Diagon Alley, figuring she’d save up her money while she determined what she wanted to do. It wasn’t the worst job, but with the Wizarding World getting darker by the day, she felt constantly in fear. Still, George was close by, and she once again had him for comfort. 

Most nights she’d crash on the twins’ couch, finding it easier to get up in the early mornings and go in to work than staying with her parents in the suburbs. Which usually meant waking up to George preparing breakfast, sleep thick in his voice and his hair still messy. And Godric, was he beautiful like that.

“Sleep well, darling?” George rasped out, a sleepy smile on his face. Y/N wrapped her arms around herself as a small yawn left her lips.

“Mhm.” Y/N hummed, leaning in the doorway of their kitchen. “You?”

“Pretty good.” George grinned, sliding a mug of tea down the counter towards her. Like always, he had made it perfectly to her liking. Y/N cupped the mug in her hands, letting the warmth slowly spread throughout her body and wake her up. “Think I might stop by the cafe on my break, pick up some pastries and coffee.” Just as he finished his sentence, Fred tiredly stumbled into the kitchen.

“You can just say you want to come see me, Georgie.” Y/N teased.

“It’s not just you he wants to see.” Fred winked at the girl, causing her brows to furrow.

“Oi, shut it, Fred.” George glared at his brother.

“What do you mean?”

“He hasn’t told you about his little crush?” Fred smirked, ignoring the daggers being shot his way. “Elizabeth, that girl that works with you. Georgie fancies her.”

Suddenly, even the mug in Y/N’s hand felt ice cold in her grasp. Quickly, she placed it back down on the counter, fearing she would drop it and let it shatter to the ground. A bit of hot tea sloshed out of the mug, scalding her hand and forcing her mind away from her breaking heart.

“Shit, are you okay?” George had already hurried towards her, but Y/N was quick to brush him off.

“‘m fine, I, uh, should just go get ready.”

Y/N didn’t give the boy’s time to question her change in demeanor, but rather quickly gathered her overnight bag and hurried to the bathroom, locking herself inside. She cast a silencing charm before slowly sliding down the wall, allowing herself to sob freely.

Just as she always knew, she’d never be what George wanted.

I could tell you his favorite color’s green

He loves to argue, oh, and it kills me

His sister’s beautiful, he has his father’s eyes,

And if you asked me if I love him

I’d lie

Y/N felt in a daze that entire day at work. She made drinks, rang customers up, and wiped down counters, but she was unable to think about anything other than the revelations of that morning. Of course, Elizabeth was the only other person working with her, and while she normally adored shifts with the girl, she couldn’t find it in herself to even crack a smile at her. It wasn’t Elizabeth’s fault, of course, and she would never purposefully take it out on her, but Y/N just didn’t have the energy to try that day.

When lunch time rolled around and Y/N knew George would be arriving soon, she busied herself with meaningless tasks, intent on avoiding him and saving her heart any extra heartbreak, at least for the time being. She offered him a small smile when he entered, then ultimately let Elizabeth take his order.

As they chatted, Y/N noted the way he lit up with every giggle he pulled from her lips, and she swore she could hear her heart shattering. When he finally left, coffee and pastries in hand, he called out a quick goodbye to Y/N, but she only offered a small nod in return.

“Godric, he’s charming.” Elizabeth sighed, coming to lean beside Y/N. “You two are friends, yeah?”

“Mhm.” Y/N didn’t look up from the sugar packets she was organizing, watching as her hands shook slightly.

“Well, tell me about him!” Elizabeth urged, nudging Y/N with her elbow. “Is he seeing anyone?”

“No,” Y/N sighed, finally forcing herself to look up after finishing her task. “What do you want to know?”

As much as it killed her, she knew what she had to do. George deserved to be happy, and she was his best friend, so she had to help him get there. George would never want her the way she wanted him, and maybe seeing him with someone else would help her get over that fact.

“Anything. Everything.” Elizabeth beamed, her perfect smile on full display.

“Well…” Y/N sighed, gathering her thoughts. “He has a twin, Fred, and they run the joke shop that just opened down the way. He’s a middle child, sort of, I mean Fred is technically the middle child but that’s just because he was born a few minutes earlier. They’ve got three older brothers, then a younger brother and sister. His favorite colors green, but if you ask him he’ll say it’s orange because of his hair. Um, he was shit at potions, but I think that was just because he hated the professor, because really he’s a genius. Oh, and he’s the funniest guy I’ve ever met, which I tell him all the time but cannot say in front of Fred. I don’t know, I guess he’s just about the best person I know, honestly.” Y/N sighed, finishing her rambling with a forced smile.

“Merlin,” Elizabeth stared at Y/N, wide-eyed. “Sounds like you’re in love with him.”

“No, really I’m not. We’ve just been best friends forever.” Y/N laughed, the lie tumbling easily from her lips. 

Because that’s what she had to do, that’s what she’d always done. To keep George in her life, to make things easier, she kept her feelings close to her heart. And no matter how much it killed her, she would continue doing it. If that’s what it took to see George happy, that’s what she’d do. 

She’d lie.

TAGS: @theweasleysredhair​ @letsgotothehop​ @wand3ringr0s3​ @sarcasticallywitty15​ @mischiefisbeingmanaged​ @gcdricreads​ @destourtereaux​ @thisismysketchbook​ @george-fabian-weasley​ @evermoreweasley​ @amourtentiaa​ @lunalovecroft​ @sunshineandshadowss​

[osakaso5]

IDOLiSH7 6th Anniversary Special Story: Full of Heart...

Chapter 4: Unreasonable Demands

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6

Tamaki Yotsuba: I'm glad you can get your photo now, So-chan. But are you sure you can make it to the North Pacific?

Sogo Osaka: I think so... He did say he could make a stop at the nearest yacht harbor.

Sogo Osaka: What about your photo? You mentioned that Re:vale could help...

Tamaki Yotsuba: Yeah. I just messaged them, and they said they were gonna come pick us up.

Sogo Osaka: Pick us up?

[Toot toot!]

Tamaki Yotsuba: Ah! That's Momorin's car!

Momo: Tamaki! Sogo!

Yuki: Good evening.

Sogo Osaka: I'm sorry you had to come all this way! Tamaki-kun didn't tell me you were coming for us until just now...

Momo: It's fine! Hop on!

Tamaki Yotsuba: Where are we going?

Yuki: Back in time.

Tamaki Yotsuba: Heh. If I could time travel, there's a ton of stuff I'd wanna do.

Yuki: Same here.

Tamaki Yotsuba: I bet you would too, So-chan.

Sogo Osaka: Sure.

Momo: I've got a ton of stuff I'd change, too. But sorry, we're not actually going back in time. We're going to Yuki's place!

Tamaki Yotsuba: That's fine. There's a bunch of stuff I wanna do there, too.

Yuki: Like what?

Tamaki Yotsuba: Playing the guitar. Teach me.

Yuki: Okay.

Sogo Osaka: You could've asked me, too... Though I'm sure Yuki-san has better foundations and technique...

Tamaki Yotsuba: I don't wanna learn from you. You'd get on my case about being bad. Yukirin seems way nicer.

Yuki: I'm a lot scarier than you think.

Tamaki Yotsuba: Huh..? Oh, right. No way am I gonna learn from you. I'll just ask Ban-chan.

Yuki: Ban's not any better, you know. He'll click his tongue and call you an amateur.

Tamaki Yotsuba: If he did that, I'd start crying...

Sogo Osaka: I would, too...

Momo: I'd cry so much, my tear ducts would never recover...

[Toot toot!]

Momo: Ah! We can talk later! Hurry up and get in the car!

Sogo Osaka: ...Thank you!

Momo: Off we go! 

- - - -

Tamaki Yotsuba: Yaaay! Long time no see, Yukirin's place.

Sogo Osaka: Tamaki-kun, you could at least thank Yuki-san for his hospitality.

Yuki: It's fine... Hey. Tamaki-kun, wait, at least put some slippers on before you walk in.

Tamaki Yotsuba: It's fine.

Yuki: It's not fine. Put them on.

Sogo Osaka: I'm sorry about him! I'll make him wear them! Tamaki-kun, come back here. You can't just run into people's homes like that.

Tamaki Yotsuba: I was so excited that I had to floor it.

Momo: I guess you'll need to install traffic lights at your entrance hall, Yuki.

Yuki: I'll paint a little crosswalk on the floor while I'm at it.

Sogo Osaka: Thank you, and I'm very sorry for the trouble...

Yuki: I was joking. I guess you can be a bit soft on Tamaki-kun, too.

Sogo Osaka: Oh, that was a joke?

Momo: So, what's up?

Momo: You needed help finding a childhood photo for Welcome to Kids' Room, right?

Tamaki Yotsuba: Yeah...

Tamaki Yotsuba: Y'know the apartments I used to live at? There was this guy there who had a camera.

Momo: A guy with a camera?

Tamaki Yotsuba: I forget his name, but I think he lived in our neighborhood. He took a family photo of us.

Tamaki Yotsuba: I wanna meet him, so I can ask if he could reprint the picture we put in Mom's casket...

Tamaki Yotsuba: And for that, I need you guys to make some shady deals.

Re:vale: Shady deals..?

Tamaki Yotsuba: Yeah.

Re:vale: Shady deals!?

Tamaki Yotsuba: Yeah. I need the help of some underground type guys for this. Can't Re:vale make that happen?

Yuki: You want us...

Momo: To make shady deals...

Sogo Osaka: Re:vale... Please. If it's at all possible, then I'd like you to help him, too.

Momo: Now even Sogo's asking... No, hold on just a minute!

Momo: I'm not sure where you got the idea that we make ANY kind of shady deals to begin with. Yuki, do you know what they're talking about?

Yuki: I have no idea. You?

Momo: Nope... I feel like shady deals are the one thing we can't help with...

Tamaki Yotsuba: No way... I was sure you guys would have some leads.

Yuki: What kind of a deal were you planning?

Momo: I think we'll be more helpful than any of the "underground type guys" you had in mind.

Tamaki Yotsuba: I need someone to hack into every surveillance camera in the world, to find out where that dude is now.

Sogo Osaka: Every surveillance camera in the world..?

Tamaki Yotsuba: Even though most people don't realize it, there's shady organizations that control the world from the shadows!

Tamaki Yotsuba: Or at least that's what it said in this "Scary Truths of the World" book that Isumin had.

Yuki: You mean you read it in some book about the occult? And you went ahead and assumed we were associated with these shady organizations?

Tamaki Yotsuba: Yeah... Re:vale kinda gives me that sort of vibe sometimes...

Momo: I never knew people saw us that way. Heh, not bad.

Yuki: So basically, you want to know where that camera guy is now? Good thing I happen to know a private detective.

Sogo Osaka: You know a private detective? Did you meet him while studying for a role?

Yuki: No... I met him while looking for your manager...

Tamaki Yotsuba: Oh, Ban-chan!

Yuki: Yep.

Momo: But if that private detective couldn't find Ban-san, how useful could he possibly be?

Yuki: Probably not very useful, no.

Momo: But you still kept him on your payroll?

Yuki: Well, Ban taught me not to keep replacing our bandmates, and you taught me to hold people dear...

Momo: Oh, Yuki! You're such a good boy!!! You're a gentleman and a hottie rolled into one!  

Yuki: I sure am. I'll even forgive you for our earlier argument.

Tamaki Yotsuba: You guys had a fight?

Momo: We butted heads over our Welcome to Kids' Room photos, that's all.

Sogo Osaka: But why would you fight over your childhood pictures..?

Momo: Well... 

- - - -

Rinto Okazaki: Then it's settled. This will be your picture for the show, Momo-kun, and this will be yours, Yuki-kun.

Yuki: Wow..! You look adorable, Momo! A little round-cheeked boy with a tan, playing soccer. It's so cute.

Momo: ...Holy crap... A listless pretty boy, playing the guitar...

Yuki: I like this photo. I feel like it'd be a great source of energy whenever I'm tired from work.

Yuki: I know we talked using each other's selfies as lock screen backgrounds,   but I think these childhood photos would work better.

Rinto Okazaki: Great idea! I happen to have these picture lockets, would you like some?

Yuki: A locket? If I put Momo's picture in that, it'd be like he's my son.

Yuki: That could be kind of funny. Should we try it?

Momo: No way...

Yuki: What!?

Momo: I can't take this photo! As both your fan and your partner, I think this picture's bad news!

Yuki: How is it bad news!? Are you saying I'm not cute in it!?

Rinto Okazaki: I think you're positively adorable!

Momo: You're wearing SHORTS! Since when do you wear shorts!? There's no way we can show this on TV!

Yuki: And why not? Even I was once an innocent kid, like Iori-kun and Tamaki-kun.

Rinto Okazaki: I think you're still plenty innocent, Yuki-kun!

Yuki: That's it. I'm making a copy of this picture, and putting it inside your locket.

Momo: Oh, no you don't! I'm not wearing that, you hear me!?

Yuki: But you said we should use each other's pictures as lock screens!

Momo: I didn't say anything about our childhood pictures! I'm gonna lose my mind if I have to walk around with a picture like this dangling from my neck!

Momo: And how did you just so happen to have two lockets lying around!?

Rinto Okazaki: The president got them for you.

Yuki: He wants us to have each other's pictures?

Rinto Okazaki: No, he actually wanted you to have a childhood photo of himself and I.

Momo: Wait, I wanna see that!

Rinto Okazaki: Here it is.

Momo: Wow! You went to a studio for this one!

Momo: Okarin, is the one sitting on the chair you? Does that mean our prez is the one standing up?

Rinto Okazaki: That's correct.

Yuki: You and Rintaro look really alike. The suits look chic, so it's actually kind of cool.

Yuki: Was this taken for a special occasion?

Rinto Okazaki: Our neighborhood cameraman needed something to display on his shop window, so he took a picture of us.

Rinto Okazaki: We received the lockets as thanks.

Rinto Okazaki: He thought that if we brothers kept a picture with us, we'd always be able to find each other, no matter how far apart we end up.

Yuki: Huh. So it's a novelty gift. If you can call it that, anyway.

Rinto Okazaki: This was 20 years ago. Come to think of it, there was a picture of the cameraman's two sons on the window, too.

Rinto Okazaki: Though even our parents said they'd only ever seen the older brother.

Yuki: I see. Maybe something happened to the younger one, then. Poor thing...

Rinto Okazaki: Perhaps...

Rinto Okazaki: The older son's business failed, too, and eventually, the camera shop closed its doors for good.

Rinto Okazaki: My brother remembered the cameraman thanks to this picture. That was probably why he wanted you to have some, too.

Momo: So we could keep each other's pictures close by?

Rinto Okazaki: No. Like I said, it's our picture he wants you to put in the lockets.

Yuki: I think Rintaro's a little too in love with himself.

Rinto Okazaki: I'm sorry about him...

Momo: Ahaha! Still I think it could be funny to walk around with your picture hanging from our necks! Right, Yuki?

Momo: It would really show off our loyalty to Okazaki Productions, don't you think!?

Yuki: ......... Do you really hate the idea of having my picture that much..?

Momo: Uh, no...

Yuki: I see how it is. You refuse to keep my picture in a locket, but the Okazakis are fine?

Momo: I didn't mean it like that...

Rinto Okazaki: Ah, how unusual. Normally, it's Momo-kun doing these sort of interrogations.

Yuki: I can keep your photo in a locket, you know. I could even make you lunch for your practice match, Momose-kun.

Momo: Dang! I'm starting to feel jealous over my picture self..!

Yuki: I hope you'll grow up into an idol and be happy with me.

Momo: I don't think I can talk to your picture that easily... Or that casually...

Momo: Then again, wouldn't it be a little pervy if I started calling this picture of my partner "Master Yuki", or something..!?

Rinto Okazaki: I don't see the problem. Re:vale's already got an eccentric image, after all.

Yuki: I feel bad for my unwanted younger self. Give him back to me. I'll raise him with little Momose here.

Momo: I told you, that's not it! I'd never neglect little Yukito-san..!

Rinto Okazaki: There you go, starting some bizarre family roleplay. Allow me and my brother's picture to join in! 

- - - -

Momo: And that's how we started arguing.

Sogo Osaka: That sounds rough...

Yuki: Here's Momo's picture, by the way.

Tamaki Yotsuba: Wow! Momorin was so cute! Used to be super tan, too! With shiny white teeth!

Sogo Osaka: You really did put it in the locket.

Momo: Wanna see Okarin and his brother?

Tamaki Yotsuba: Okarin was adorbs, too! And I've never seen his brother! He's cute!

Yuki: Not anymore, he's not.

Sogo Osaka: So you did use Okazaki-san's picture for the locket.

Momo: I thought it'd be funny, and a good way to advertise our agency... Yuki's is too real for me to walk around wearing it. Do you get what I'm saying, Yuki?

Yuki: Not at all. I still feel bad for little me.

Momo: Don't you get grumpy on me again!

Yuki: ...In any case, I can introduce you to a useless private detective.

Tamaki Yotsuba: I'd rather you introduce me to a useful one. Does your detective pal know any better detectives?

Momo: Good point. If he's in the business, he's gotta know who his biggest rivals are!

Yuki: I'll try asking him.

[Dial tone]

Yuki: Hello, it's Yuki from Re:vale. Do you know any good detectives, other than you? Like, the king of private detecting or something...

Yuki: What..? There's a detective so great, he's only spoken of in legends..?

Tamaki Yotsuba: ........! A legendary detective..!!!

Sogo Osaka: He sounds like someone who could help! That's great, Tamaki-kun!

Yuki: I have a job for that detective. Get in touch with him for me. I need to find somebody. Yeah. I'm counting on you.

[Beep]

Momo: He's going to introduce us to a legendary detective!?

Yuki: He's willing to try, at least. I'll get in touch as soon as I hear from him again, Tamaki-kun.

Tamaki Yotsuba: Okay! Thanks!

Yuki: But... If it's too hard for you to get a hold of that picture, you can quit if you want, you know.

Momo: You guys must have better things to do, anyway. It's not like Ban-san or Maneko-chan are forcing you to do this, right?

Tamaki Yotsuba: Yeah, but...

Tamaki Yotsuba: I wanna have something like this pic of Momorin playing soccer, or Yukirin playing the guitar.

Re:vale: .........

Momo: Right. I hope you find your picture, Tamaki. We'll help in any way we can.

Yuki: If you run into trouble, call us.

Tamaki Yotsuba: Ehehe... Okay! 

- - - -

Sogo Osaka: .........

Sogo Osaka: They even drove us back to the dorm.

Tamaki Yotsuba: Yukirin's cooking was so yummy, and Momorin played with me a lot. Re:vale's super nice!

Sogo Osaka: It's because you're such a good kid.

Tamaki Yotsuba: .........

Sogo Osaka: You're so honest and kind, there's not a single person who wouldn't want you to live a happy life.

Tamaki Yotsuba: Haha... That's the opposite of what I used to hear, though.

Tamaki Yotsuba: Like when something I had broke, or something didn't make it to me in time, or something I'd been excited for didn't work out.

Tamaki Yotsuba: Apparently it was all a punishment, 'cause I'm such a bad, nasty kid.

Sogo Osaka: ........

Tamaki Yotsuba: I'd get mad and yell, "That's not true!", but still. Sometimes when I'm having a bad day, I remember that stuff.

Tamaki Yotsuba: I fall down, or something I like breaks, or I get caught in a rainstorm... And I wonder if I'm being punished.

Tamaki Yotsuba: I mean, I'm not THAT good of a kid. I don't work hard, I'm kinda rude. Plus I'm dumb.

Tamaki Yotsuba: ...If I was smarter, maybe I would've gotten a copy of that photo before it went into Mom's casket.

Tamaki Yotsuba: I don't have any pictures 'cause I'm an idiot who can't take proper care of anything.

Tamaki Yotsuba: Meanwhile, you're good at keeping things clean, and you do everything right.

Sogo Osaka: ...You're not an idiot, and the photo thing wasn't your fault.

Sogo Osaka: I can't believe anyone would say things like that to a child. Of course you're not being punished.

Tamaki Yotsuba: .........

Sogo Osaka: I can guarantee that you're not, so don't worry.

Tamaki Yotsuba: Ahaha! So-chan, you're acting kinda cool all of a sudden.

Tamaki Yotsuba: Thanks. 

To be continued...

[givemethatgold]

Fix’er Upper - Part Twelve

Pairing: Frankie Morales x F!Reader Warnings: Mentions of sex, swearing, mentions of drug use, fluff, smidge of angst? Length: 1.7k Notes: Managed to whip up this bad boy during a quiet moment today and should probably make y’all wait for it but I don’t really do posting schedules (as you’ve noticed) so enjoy. Not beta’d, not proof read, I’ll die on this messy hill.

Series Masterlist

Surprisingly, life didn't change too much after that night. Frankie continued to run his acreage and oversee the making of this year's cider. With some encouragement and support from you, he was starting to expand the business and already had a few pubs in the closest city clamouring to have his product on tap.

Meanwhile, the improvements on the house were nearing an end, for the indoors list anyways. The first thing Frankie had helped you do was to install your new soaker tub, immediately followed by christening it by making soft, slow love to you inside of it.

There hadn't even been any water, your impatience to be close to each other wouldn't allow for that. You had just stripped out of your coveralls, convenient work-wear for people who fucked like rabbits you had to admit, and sat in his lap with your arms and legs wrapped around him. His hands guiding your hips in a slow rocking motion, breathing each other's air as your open mouths hovered in a not-quite kiss, only breaking eye contact when you threw your head back as you came.

Autumn passed quickly and Winter had gripped Vermont, cloaking the countryside in a heavy blanket of white. Christmas was a cozy affair, you and Frankie had been asked to join Jacquie and Mark in their family's merriment. It had stirred something inside of you, watching a functional family laugh, sing, argue, eat, and love with such abandon. 

It was everything you'd dreamt, initially, for your future with Brad. Now? Now you were starting to picture that future with Frankie's face as the patriarch, you just haven't built up the nerve to broach the subject yet. 

You'd started working at the bakery, enjoying the early mornings surrounded by rising dough and sculling back coffees with the adorable older ladies who ran the place. You'd also begun doing the books for Morales Acres and Catfish Brewery. Frankie was a veritable genius but he claimed he had no patience for keeping receipts and tracking numbers.

You had a sneaking suspicion he was playing dumb in an effort to give you more time together but you really didn't mind. Your break-of-dawn mornings at the bakery had you tired, but after a full day of renovating or bookkeeping, you were downright exhausted and ready for bed by eight pm. This, mixed with Frankie monitoring the brewing, bottling, and distribution of his cider and networking at bars and pubs throughout the state meant the two of you rarely saw each other.

All of your hard work in your own house had made you a popular friend to call when someone needed decorating advice, or a helping hand once they realized they couldn't tile their kitchen backsplash solo. You never charged for your time, although payment had initially been offered until work had got around that you preferred a good meal and conversation over money. I mean, sure, you could use the cash but it just didn't seem right. And you loved helping people and making deeper connections with the town you now truly felt you belonged in.

Tuesday evenings had become an unofficial date night for the two of you. The bakery was closed on Wednesdays and bar owners tended to be less interested in business halfway through the week, something to do with the rush of the previous weekend having worn off and the worry of setting up for another one starting to grow.

This meant you could stay up late, enjoy a proper homemade dinner, maybe even watch a movie or share a bottle of wine while soaking in your big ass tub. It usually ended as a sleepover, your house being the preferred location; Frankie's loft was perfectly fine but it did lack a certain homey appeal.

This pattern, this life, that you'd created for yourself was making you happier than you'd ever been in your entire life. You weren't one hundred percent content, not yet anyway, but the path to getting there was on a direct trajectory. You still wanted to finish your college degree, maybe switch it over to horticulture. Building a greenhouse and selling flowers was still a pipe dream but something your heart truly longed for, something that Frankie was constantly encouraging you to do.

"Look, hun," he had called out to you a few weeks ago while supposedly researching the new line of bottles. "There's an auction next county over and they have all this confiscated stuff from a grow op that got busted!"

"What?" You'd made a face and laughed at the absurdity of it all. "What on earth would you use from a pot farm?"

He just gave you a salacious wink as an answer.

Frankie had been open about his past drug abuse and while some recovering addicts may want all mention of it banned from a conversation, Frankie found levity in treating the topic like any other person would.

It had taken you a couple of hours to realize why he'd brought up the auction. It had hit you with a jolt, knowing that he’d remembered your rambling from on top of the Ferris wheel. You didn't realize he'd been listening when you'd told him about your idea of taking over the flower stand at the market once the current couple retired.

Your heart had swelled and there was a concerted effort to prevent the sudden onset of tears from running down your face. God, you loved this man, maybe one of these days you should tell him...

This particular routine was working well for the two of you. It gave each of you your own space to relax, destress, enjoy the shitty tv shows you were too embarrassed to watch in front of another living person. It also forced the two of you to take your relationship slowly, communication being a constant learning curve. You were both really good and telling each other when you needed time alone, when you were feeling stressed or sad. You each had learned the tells for when the other was angry or just hungry, if it was hormones or if there was something that was actually pissing you off.

The thing you each seemed to struggle with was expressing the softer side of the relationship. Neither of you appeared to have the Words of Affirmation love language skill, yet you both craved to hear it. You showed how much you cared for Frankie with your acts of service; helping him with the boring side of the business, baking, deep cleaning the loft, even scrubbing out the massive fermenter in the Catfish Cider warehouse.

Frankie, on the other hand, showed his love through physical touch. At first, you had assumed it was a staking-his-claim kind of thing but then you noticed how he'd do it all the time. A hand on your lower back while walking, caressing your hand with his thumb when driving in the truck, carding his fingers through your hair while you watched tv.

This week's date night found you at his place, relaxing in the loft after a busy workday. You were making dinner while he 'helped' by sneaking bites of the prepped ingredients, arm slung around you with a hand in your back pocket.

"What're you looking for?" He asked, taking advantage of your distracted searching through his cupboards to sneak a few more pinches of grated cheese.

"A can opener!" You replied, exasperation raising your voice an octave. "I could have sworn I saw a white one around here somewhere..."

“No, pretty sure that one's yours. I don't think I have one?"

"Frankie," you deadpanned "how did you survive as a bachelor without canned food?"

"I ate a lot of take-out?" He looked indignant at your laughter, "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. Can you stop judging me long enough to eat some burritos?"

Smoothing his playful scowl with a kiss, you sat down at the counter and enjoyed your first meal together of the week.

An idea was formulating in the back of your mind, though, and you barely tasted anything. As the evening progressed, the idea grew and you were liking it more and more. The final straw was you not having a toothbrush in his bathroom anymore, having forgotten that it had fallen off the counter and into the trashcan the last time you'd spent the night.

Using his, with a strange mixture of distaste and nonchalance, before making your way over to the bed, you began to plan how the conversation could go:

Hey Frankie, so you know how I have a big house all to myself? Yeah... And it had everything we need in it? Yeah... And there's more than enough room for two adults to store all of their things? Yeah... And I wouldn't have to use your toothbrush ever again? Yea- wait what? I think you should move in with me.

It wasn't very romantic but it was the most likely, considering your dynamic. Just as you were crawling into bed and snuggling under the arm he'd raised to allow you to get closer, his cell phone rang.

"Hello? - This is he. - Yeah, biological. - Oh god, when?"

The immediate change in his tone from questioning to horrified caught your attention, sitting up to face him you grabbed his free hand, silently letting him know you were there for support.

His eyes were out of focus and a panicked expression was slowly morphing his face as the conversation went on, but he gave your hand a squeeze back in acknowledgement.

"Yes, in Vermont. Do you have my address? - Okay, good, good...okay - When? - I'll have something ready. Umm... does she... does she remember me? - Oh. Okay, thank you."

Slowly lowering the phone from his ear, Frankie sat staring into nothingness for what felt like hours. His side of the conversation and the way he was reacting had you rattled. You could guess as to what was happening but weren't sure if now was the right time to pry.

"Babe? Is, is everything okay?"

Silence.

Gripping his hand tighter and rubbing his back you sat with him for a few more minutes before trying again. You didn’t want to push him but your heart was constricting in your chest from nervousness and concern for him.

"Can I get you anything? What do you need?"

His hand was now completely dead in yours; eventually, he turned his head towards you, eyes never fully focusing, and shook his head.

"I- she- fuck... I think you should go.”

Part Thirteen