#but this is one i can literally back up most of my claims with current-as-of-this-post screenshots | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

eightmakesonebraincell · 1 year ago

Note

i have a little request! what happens with mafia mingi & yn? do they ever meet again? if so, how?

same with wooyoung! do they still meet at the convenience store every night? did he bring the others over to introduce reader to them?

oh im curious yeahhhhh

ateez as mafia members pt 2

original post here

pairing: mafia!mingi x reader, mafia!wooyoung x reader, mentions of ot8!mafia

genre: fluff, crack, a continuation of the mafia tropes brainrot-fest

length: 2.1k

c/w: explicit language, violence, weapons, mentions of alcohol, unedited

a/n: thank you anon for requesting (and special thanks @sorryimananti-romantic for validating my writing 🫶) this was only meant to be like a five dot-point thing explaining what happens, but obviously mafia!ateez has me in their chokehold. mafia!ateez in my brain: it's free real estate

mingi

it takes a few days for you to reopen your bar after your fateful meeting with ccg

ccg as in cute coat guy

because quite frankly, that night shook you up a little

mingi most definitely notices your absence

but it's not like he can just check up on how you're doing

not when your bar is closed and he has no real excuse to show up apart from "i was worried about you"

after he reports back to base and rejoins ateez, hongjoong's girlfriend offers to hack into the database and find out what your phone number is

("it'll literally take me like, two seconds")

mingi refuses though because he wants to do things the right way

at least...when it comes to things concerning you

after you reassure yourself that the thugs chasing after cute coat guy aren't going to kill you by association, you feel safe enough to open up the mist again

his leather coat usually sits draped over your chair behind the countertop

originally, you think about washing it before returning it to him

...whenever he shows up you suppose

but then you kind of like the smokey smell of gunpowder with an underlying hint of his cologne that is on the coat

so you leave it as it is

in fact, you might have actually worn it a couple of times

you like how the end of the coat brushes against your calves, how the sleeves fall past your fingertips, how it engulfs your entire frame like an embrace

but mostly, you like how it reminds you of the handsome stranger; who claims he is a good bad guy; who you still do not know the name of

you wonder if he made it back safely that night

you're wearing the coat as you're closing up for the night - it's already well past midnight

you're just about to reach for the last glass on one of the tables when you hear the door to your bar opening

"sorry, i’m closed for the nigh- oh," you pause

it’s ccg

who currently has one leg and arm halfway through the threshold of your door, now frozen mid-step at your words

“if now’s not a good time, i can come back another day?” he starts out hesitantly

“now’s great! good. yes,” you chuckle nervously and try not to be too enthusiastic at his appearance. “now’s good, come in”

you catch his eyes briefly flicker down for a moment before they return to your eyes

then he gives you a soft look and greets you gently, “hi”

“hi,” you return, brain shutting down on you

“you look cute in that,” he jerks his chin down slightly to motion at what he was looking at just moments ago

his leather coat

that you are currently wearing

you squeak in embarrassment, hands fumbling to take it off while you vomit out explanations as to why you’re wearing it

your fingers get caught up in the sleeves

but then he is stepping closer slowly so as not to alarm you, before he grasps the ends of the sleeves and helps tug them off your arms

mingi can’t help but use the opportunity to tenderly hold one of your hands

he’s missed the way your smaller hands fit snugly in his

“did you come back for your coat?” you try to break the silence, because otherwise you are afraid he will hear the heartbeats coming from inside your chest

he nods, “wanted to make sure you were okay, too”

there is a third reason that he does not say

that he just wanted to see you

“i’m okay now,” you reassure him

because he’s back now and he’s safe

he folds the leather coat and places it on the countertop before he says, “i don’t think i ever got your name?”

you tell him then ask him for his

“mingi”

“mingi,” you repeat

he repeats your name in return

“mingi,” you say yet again

“y/n”

you both laugh at the ridiculousness of the whole conversation

“mingi, want to help me close the bar?”

and so you find yourself in his company as you give him easy tasks to do

closing up has always been a tedious job, especially when your body and mind are groggy with fatigue

but with mingi around, an accidental brush whenever you shuffle past each other, a conversation easily flowing between you both, you are awake as ever

even long after all the tables and shot glasses have been cleaned and polished, floors swept, bottles of alcohol reorganised, mingi still has not left

and at some point during the night once you two sit at the countertop to rest your legs, both of you have subconsciously inched closer together in your seats, bodies seeking the warmth and proximity of the other

you are unsure how long you two talk for

but just like that first, fateful meeting with mingi, he stands up to take his leave all too soon

“goodnight, mingi”

mingi buffers for a minute before he decides to do it

he reaches out for your hand, clasping it gently to bring it up to his lips as he presses a light kiss against the back of your hand

and with a goodbye of his own, he turns for the door

except he lingers in the doorway, asking, “will i see you again?”

a smile graces your lips at the irony of the situation and you tell him it's not like you'll be going anywhere; he's free to come visit any time

but you also feel your stomach flutter

because last time, you were the one tugging on mingi’s vest, timidly wondering if that was going to be the last you saw of him

tonight, he is the one unwilling to part ways

not to say that you aren’t either

“i’ll see you around, then,” he says with finality, voice still soft-spoken

and then he leaves

but just mere seconds later you spot it

his leather coat

still folded on your counter where he had placed it earlier

"wait, your coat!" you rush outside with it

mingi is only a few feet away

he could very easily turn around and take it from you

but then he just winks, gives you a tip of his hat and says, "next time," before he's walking away again

you chew on the inside of your cheek to stop the silly grin from blooming across your face

because something tells you that you're going to be hanging on to mingi's coat for him for a while

even after next time

wooyoung

it feels like deja vu

a whole gang of mafia members sauntering into your convenience store like a scene straight out of a movie

admittedly, they are much more pleasing to the eye than the group that was chasing after wooyoung weeks ago

but still

these are several muscular men in tank tops, leather jackets and heavy chained necklaces

your hand itches for the comforting weight of the pepper spray in your purse that wooyoung had gotten you just last week

you haven't had a reason to need it since wooyoung basically lives in your store now

and he always walks you home after your shift

but now seems like a more than good enough time to use it

"you usually work the night shift here?"

a voice causes your eyes to snap up

the man at the head of the group addresses you with a quirk of his brow - it's pierced, you notice

"...yeah," you answer

you wonder if this is your last shift at work and at life

and then just like a repeat of last time, you spot wooyoung's frantic bounce of curls appear from across the street of your store

you pray to the heavens above that he isn't being chased by anyone else this time

because the thought of two gangs crossing paths inside your modest store?

you don't think it's going to look like a store after their fight is through

you see the way wooyoung's eyes widen when he spots the thugs just mere feet away from you and you see a curse form on his lips

you just need to hold out until he gets here

wooyoung will keep you safe

wooyoung will-

"then you must know," the man leans in a little closer to grab your attention, "where i can find-"

wooyoung bursts through the door

"-the super sour gummy worms?" the man finishes

you physically cannot help the words that blurt out of you in disbelief, "the fuck you just say?"

"hongjoong!" wooyoung's piercing shout interrupts you both

wooyoung worms his way through the gang and you stare incredulously at him before you say, "the fuck did you just say?"

he ignores you in favour of pressing his hands against the chest of the man - hongjoong? - and trying to push him towards the doors of your store

quite unsuccessfully, you must add

"the fuck are you guys doing here?" wooyoung yells

"what the fuck is going on?" you demand

"holy fuck, not even hongjoong swears this much"

"fuck yeah, potty mouth!"

"stop swearing you fucktards!"

one of the men who has been lingering on the edge of the group sidles up to the counter, looking at you with an apologetic grimace

"sorry you have to deal with...this," he shakes his head just as another man comes to join you both, "i'm jongho, by the way"

"seonghwa," the other man introduces himself with a gentle voice

these mafia men are surprisingly kind

and normal

except, you suppose, anyone in comparison to wooyoung would be normal

"are you all wooyoung's, uhh, friends?" you don't know whether they know you know

they chuckle, "yeah, we're his friends. his brothers, too, you could say"

you realise the rest of the men have started to settle down and are standing in a rough semi-circle around your counter

wooyoung is currently grumbling and muttering indignantly under his breath with someone's arm thrown over his shoulders, though it looks more like he's a child being scolded by his father than it looks a friendly gesture

"so to what do i owe the pleasure of a visit from all of you?" you ask them, now that there is no swearing being thrown across the room and you realise they aren’t going to shoot you through the head

"had to see for ourselves who was making our wooyoung all smitten. always sneaking out at night like a tween"

"yunho!" wooyoung hisses and elbows said man in the ribs

except with the height difference, it's more like his hips

it's amusing to see how everyone has the upper hand over wooyoung's brattiness

"am i meeting the in-laws already?" you smirk at wooyoung, "you like me or something, jung wooyoung?"

he flushes bright red and you're quite positive that if you made him take his socks off, you would find him blushing straight down to his toes

"that's it!" he hollers, arms flailing and shooing everyone, "out! out! out!"

you know they can easily resist his pushy hands, but they simply snicker and let themselves be herded towards the doors

"bye, darling!" someone jumps up and down to catch your gaze over the heads of everyone else

"shut up, san!"

yunho, you think you recall his name being, flutters his fingers at you cheekily, "we'll be back soon!"

and then he lets out an indignant yelp when wooyoung slaps his back with a screech, "no, you guys won't!"

you're laughing heartily by this point, unrestrained and very much enjoying their antics

"bye, everyone," you wave them off and then blow wooyoung an exaggerated kiss, "see you later, wooyoungie!"

everyone cackles with glee at the sight of him trying to dig himself into the ground

the sound of their ruckus finally dies down as they exit and walk further away from your store

and then you hear a distant wail

"i didn't get my gummy worms!"

you shake your head with a fond smile and take a seat at the register, but not before setting aside a pack of those ‘super sour gummy worms’ for hongjoong

and then, like always, you look at the clock and count the seconds as they tick past

counting down the seconds until wooyoung comes back to see you

again

#loren writes #loren answers #my lil anons <3 #ateez fic #ateez fics #ateez x reader #mingi x reader #mingi fluff #wooyoung x reader #wooyoung fluff #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez reactions #ateez headcanons #ateez au #mafia ateez #ateez fluff #ateez crack

821 notes · View notes

beneathsilverstars · 3 months ago

Text

been doing research on writing plural systems for sif+loop in mundane modern aus, and i think i've got a solid idea of what i want to do! specifics may vary by au but i wanted a base set of headcanons to vary from, so sif+loop being a system can be a background fact of my au musings instead of something i have to reinvent every time.

(i'm a singlet so if any systems have concrit or thoughts they want to share i'd be happy to hear it! i'm not like planning a fic or anything currently, but it's still nice to not be working off of misconceptions for my silly little posts.)

siffrin took over as the main host in their late teens and doesn't remember anything from before that. in their early-mid 20s their work/housing situation was horrible and when they couldn't take another day like that, siffrin split into loop (who kept the mid 20s memories, with a new personality) and siffrin take two (who remembers the 17-20 era a bit better, but then there's a big gap). between the two of them they were able to cope better and hold a not-as-awful job and get a shitty apartment all to themselves!

siffrin fronts more often on average, because they're better at quietly accomplishing day-to-day tasks. but if he gets too overwhelmed or anxious (think their mini loop-backs in canon) then loop takes over, bc loop dgaf about some of the things siffrin worries about, and doesn't shut down as easily. but since they don't bottle up their feelings as severely, they're more likely to react outwardly and make rash choices like quitting their job, being rude, splurging on little treats, etc. so that's why siffrin is the default fronter for things like work and chores, when he's feeling up to it.

loop is fairly aware of what's going on while siffrin is fronting - sometimes they choose to tune more of it out, but they can catch most of it if they want to, and sometimes siffrin will talk to them or nudge them to pay attention. since they know at least the basics of what siffrin was up to, they can usually step in pretty smoothly when they need to take over! and it's very easy for them to take over, with or without siffrin's say-so, though they try to ask if it's not an emergency (and if it is an emergency, siffrin is likely trying to back away from the front anyway).

when loop is fronting, though, siffrin is entirely away, dreaming in the void. loop can nudge them for a vague opinion or relevant memory, but they can't hold a full conversation and they're not aware of what loop's doing. when loop puts them in the front again they're usually disoriented and need a moment for loop to tell them what's been happening. and again, loop is the one deciding to switch; sometimes siffrin might resist getting pulled back if they're still feeling bad, or get antsy and start reaching out if they've been asleep a while or are having bad dreams, but they're not gonna react to environmental situations since they're not aware of them.

mal is in there too but doesn't front. its role is to be socially hyper-vigilant, pointing out when other people might be upset at them so the alter who's fronting knows to fix it or avoid the person. it's been around longer than siffrin, and was helpful way back then, but now that siffrin and loop have worked out an effective balance and are fairly safe, mal's behavior is somewhat maladaptive (ha!). it's not super directly aware of the outside world like loop is, not anymore at least, but it does get secondhand memories from both siffrin and loop. it actually sometimes remembers facts and details that sif and loop both quickly forgot, because maybe those details will end up relevant to spotting and avoiding future problems - but since it got the memories secondhand and filtered them through a particularly paranoid worldview, it's likely to misremember subjective interpretations as literal truth, so you gotta take its claims with a grain of salt.

it mostly hangs out in the void imagining fractals and whatnot these days, keeping an eye on siffrin while they sleep. it occasionally perks up and chimes in with its pessimistic point of view when siffrin is really upset - it can communicate better with sleeping siffrin than loop can. loop is not on speaking terms with it because they're mad that it goes behind loop's back and makes siffrin more upset right when loop is trying to shield him from the upsetting situation. but siffrin doesn't mind it bc it's just trying to help in its own way, and sometimes it is helpful to face their fears in plain words instead of avoiding them. and siffrin will sometimes ask it for help with like, puzzles, because it's good at pattern recognition.

there's also a no-longer-quite-dormant alter that presumably fronted for much of the body's childhood. they don't hang out in siffrin and mal's void, and they don't talk to anyone else within the system. but now that the system is more safe and stable, every once in a while something will catch their attention and they'll gently push to the front and start talking. as soon as their train of thought is interrupted they're gone again, and the other alters don't even remember that they got usurped for a moment, a la siffrin's bits of telling childhood anecdotes in canon. loop and siffrin have surmised that they exist, and call them the lost one.

mal has also implied that there's at least one more dormant alter, but it's from before siffrin-and-loop's time and possibly mal's as well.

if something happens that's so distressing that siffrin retreats into headspace and loop won't take over either, the body goes into dissociated autopilot. it will follow basic one-step instructions (such as "follow me" or "eat this"), speak in a couple simple scripts (such as answering "how are you" with "i'm fine"), and complete rote tasks such as taking a familiar route home from work or going to bed. loop doesn't pay much attention because that would defeat the point / put them back in front, so they usually have very little if any idea of what happened in this state, but it is possible for outside events to catch their attention enough for them to try fronting again. otherwise they'll be back next time the body wakes up. siffrin, on the other hand, usually won't front for at least a day or two after this happens, and will likely have forgotten the events leading up to it as well.

it doesn't happen very often since it's the very last resort, after siffrin dissociating, loop taking over, and loop dissociating. loop and siffrin don't consider the autopilot an alter because it doesn't form memories, have emotions or opinions, or interact in the headspace; it just follows where it's led, by habit or outside influence. loop has argued in favor of trying to imbue it with more personhood so it's less uncanny for other people to interact with and can get loop's attention when the distressing thing is over, but siffrin argues that if it can think that defeats the point, and they'd just end up with this new alter and a new autopilot.

past all that, the specifics will depend on the exact au; particularly the ratio of loop time to siffrin time will depend on how much siffrin works and how awful their job is, whether siffrin and/or loop have friends yet, etc. but i think when they're doing pretty well they'd be happy with siffrin doing work/chores and most of the activities that they both enjoy (since then they'll both remember it), and loop fronting for maybe a third of their free time to do their own thing, and maybe here and there if something goes wrong at work. and then if siffrin starts feeling burnt out, they swap for a couple days of loop doing most things and siffrin just coming out for an hour or two. siffrin and mal probably talk maybe a couple times a month, unless siffrin is really going through it, in which case they might talk a lot for a couple days. it also might be possible for mal to eventually adapt a little more to being safe, and start providing a wider range of possible interpretations instead of just the worst case scenario.

ok that's all! and as i said, i'm totally open to feedback. :3

#wow it's so easy to lock in on draft posts bc tumblr doesn't show me notes while i'm in my draft #i haven't checked my dash/notifs since i first caught up for the morning four hours ago...#anyway yay now i can really start building my coffee shop au!#isat #siffrin #loop #isat spoilers #thoughts #thoughts about siffrin #thoughts about loop #thoughts about siffrin & loop #café chick #thoughts about siffrin et al

129 notes · View notes

isuckatwritingsobenice · 1 year ago

Note

Hi there! How are you? I hope your doing well! I wanted to send in a request if that’s alright with you, if your requests are closed feel free to ignore this—! Anyways, your writing is also really good as well ^-^ Also quick question but do you take matchups by chance? Anyways, 시작하자!

Could I request Alastor and Vox (together or separately if you like) with a Male! Or GN! Reader who’s was a really famous rapper back on earth but sadly died because they were shot outside after finishing a concert? also the reader raps about true stuff like king von did.

Thank you and have a great day! さようなら！

A/N: Hii! Thank you so much for requesting this & I’m so glad you like my work (i was in a writing slump & was afraid i fell off)!! As of right now I’m not currently doing match ups, but possibly in the future I might! As someone who doesn’t listen to rap all that often this was a bit of a challenge, but we got this 😝

(Inspired by several artists)

Warnings: Headcannon format, headcannoned male reader but can be read as GN, SFW all the way, mentions of shootings, mentions of smut but not in detail,

Songs you can listen too while reading: The World is Yours by Nas. Hail Mary by Tupac. Crazy Story 2.0 by King Von.

Navigation!! // Masterlist!!!

Vox is actually a fan of yours, that’s kind of how you two met

Valentino had been trying to get in contact with a girl on your security team, so he decided to take Vox to a show of yours, the show had just ended and you had been getting asked questions about your life and cameras were everywhere

Now, vox controls the media, television at least, so he decides what makes if on air and what doesn’t and this is how you two talk

you ask him to make a deal with you, nothing negative about your human life gets out into the media and when he asks you to clarify, you tell him

to say he was a bit more than shocked is an understatement

he was TOTALLY shocked to his core and in all honesty he felt bad

so he decides to help your friendship is short and sweet towards the beginning,

your team handling most of the contact the two of you shared so it was usually business talk

untilll he’s invited with valentino to go to a party of yours where the two of you get wasted and end up sleeping together

he’s embarrassed, not of you but of his emotions, is this even right?? did you care at all??

WELLLL turns out you did because the next day when he woke up still at your house you calmly told him of your feelings, and that despite only speaking about business you felt like you two could become more

he almost sheds a tear poor guy is SO OVERJOYED HE WASNT THE ONLY ONE, and from there you two develop a relationship 🫶

your biggest supporter, he is always at concerts and interviews with you to make sure everything goes smoothly ,

he’ll even talk to Velvet to make sure your socials are covered and no one posts anything online about you

want a day to yourself? paparazzi just got a report you’ll be somewhere you totally weren’t thanks to velvet

a crazy fan lied about you? valentino is already on it

you literally never have to worry with Vox around

trust whoever killed you while you were alive WILL be dealt with

Now, Alastor is a tricky man meaning

he hates anything that isnt Jazz or from his time

so he definitely didn’t like you at first

like he wouldn’t even care to listen to music let alone YOURS he’d just walk away or hum something to himself

Charlie is the one that actually gets him to listen, and she explains that your different from other artists, uniquely you

so he caves and decides to sit and give it a listen

ten seconds in and he’s stopping the music getting up and walking away claiming he still doesn’t like it but again,

Charlie is charlie and REFUSES to stop so she makes him restart the song and listen yet again

by the end of it he still doesn’t particularly like the music you make, and a part of him actually hurts your feelings

“Why share your issues to the world? Sharing that side of you makes you weak. Horrible taste!”

Cue Vaggie rolling her eyes and Husk just scoffing because what is this dude yapping about?

Doesn’t help this all happened before you left for a show so your nervous the entire time

Charlie gets upset and scolds him, telling him it’s wrong to say that and it is in fact your music so you can do what you want and he agrees, it is your music, but he’s not gonna listen to it

he’s definitely more personality based out of the two, he does think your a nice person, and after hearing you got shot he almost chokes, it triggers his memory

you catch him sitting in the library of the hotel reading and try talking to him

the conversation is light before you somehow land on the topic of your death and when you learn Alastor too was shot you feel a bit more connected to him

surprisingly enough alastor is the one to approach you about a potential relationship and you’re like extremely excited because how often is it the radio demon asks to date you?!?!?!

he does start going to your shows more often after you two begin seeing each other, and though he isn’t entirely too crazy about it, he goes to support you <3

#hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin charlie #hazbin angel dust #hazbin vaggie #hazbin demon #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel rosie #alastor #vox x reader #vox fluff #hazbin hotel vox #helluva boss vox #isuckatwritingsobenice

173 notes · View notes

awryval · 8 months ago

Text

death of an author, reclamation, and you

"We never are what we intend, or invent 'Cause I make little lies and then I pull them apart Think something dark's living down in my heart And if I wanted to die before I got old I should've started some years ago digging that hole"

Brand New. "At the Bottom." Daisy, 2009.

Brand New was among one of my favorite bands in high school, and I still listen to them today. Their music is important to me and shaped a big part of who I am. Their lyrics about being tortured, burnt-out, and choking on the weight of your own self-perceived flaws are relatable! Their compositions ooze with a level of self-hatred that can only be genuine. It's utterly depressing, and I adore it!

That's not not the full story, though. Jesse Lacey, the vocalist of Brand New, is a sexual predator. This informs everything about how the music of Brand New is. It's self-loathing for a very good reason. I love Brand New. I condemn Jesse Lacey. These two statements coexist. I used to be a part of the /r/brandnew subreddit, and when the allegations against Jesse Lacey came out in 2017, many redditors of that sub were quick to claim "death of the author." After all, the band had broken up immediately after the news broke, and they had also cancelled their tours. Currently, the people using that subreddit mostly talk about buying old BN merchandise and discuss what their favorite concert memories were. Jesse Lacey himself confirmed that the allegations against him were true, so there isn't much debate to be had. The subreddit serves as a monument for fans who still enjoy the music, and as a platform to speak about it with like-minded fans.

In my opinion, claiming "death of an author" is a slippery slope. We can't always claim that Miku is the creator of Minecraft. But often, we see that that is the response people have when a creator is outed to be problematic; "I still like the thing So-and-So made, so I will ignore that the creator exists!" The reason that this worked for Miku Minecraft is because, by the time that Notch was publicly making transphobic comments, he did not own Minecraft anymore. The joke is quite literally that he does not own the thing that people like. He sold it to Microsoft, so he doesn't get royalties from it anymore. You can play Minecraft devoid of supporting its original creator. This joke works so well because it is an actual case of the death of an author! That's great and all for Minecraft, but what about other instances? What happens when we claim "death of the creator" erroneously? And why are we so obsessed with this concept anyway?

So like, back to Brand New... they released their last album, Science Fiction, back in August 2017. The allegations came out later that same year. I own all of Brand New's discography physically, including their last release. I bought most of it off eBay when I was 15. I was not supporting them post-allegations. But that leaves me with a lingering question- what do I do with all these CDs that I still very much enjoy the music of? From how I see it, there are two firm camps on this topic:

Camp 1: You know about Lacey's crimes now and his music cannot be separated from his actions. Solution: Throw your CDs away.

Camp 2: It's something you bought without knowledge of Lacey's crimes, so you should enjoy it anyway. Death of an author! Solution: Continue as usual.

I'm not fond of either of these answers. They come off as too polarized for a situation that is the entire Pantone swatch library of grays. "But, how are there any shades of gray when its clear that Jesse Lacey is in the wrong?" I want to provide some counter questions for you to think about:

What about the other people in the band? You might not be directly supporting the sexual predator anymore, but there are other victims here too- effectively his band mates lost their jobs overnight. (Another example would be LOSTPROPHETS)

Is it feasible to destroy each object you own because it was created under problematic circumstances? When or when isn't this the case? Does it apply to your cup of coffee? Does it apply to the clothes you wear? What about any product with palm oil in it? What about the hardware in your computer? If you look into any company, you're going to find some horrific things you don't like about it. The takeaway here is that it isn't beneficial to treat situations like these as black or white. I don't think that destroying my CDs is going to do anything to take away the abuse that Jesse Lacey caused. Nor do I think ignoring the context of his music will do anyone any favors. The music he made is a product of his crimes. To ignore that fact would be disingenuous to why people enjoy his music and why the music exists in the first place. There's another element here, though. I, and many others, are no longer monetarily supporting Jesse Lacey. You can't even officially support the release of Brand New's music anymore as their record label (Procrastinate! Music Traitors) doesn't even seem to have a functioning website anymore? Regardless, I wouldn't want to support his music in a way that supports him, anyway. Yes, I enjoy the music and the themes of it, but I do not want to be directly supporting abuse that happened BECAUSE he was a vocalist in a band. And I can safely do this with CDs that I bought secondhand, right? This is death of the author. So what's the issue?

I believe there is an issue when people claim “death of the author” far too quickly and scramble to reclaim the media for themselves. It’s an increasingly popular trend these days to pluck characters/concepts from an author deemed to be problematic. "I'll save [Character I like] from this shitty piece of media!", they claim. I don't think people realize how multifaceted in effect that is, though. For instance, if the author is actively making money from their creation, you can't truly "reclaim" a character from them. It's more like you're paying homage to them with fanart.

My best on-going example of this would be Floraverse. There are a multitude of reasons why people do not like the author/s of Floraverse, which I will not go into here. To put it simply, though, since its inception in 2013, many artists and writers involved with Flora either left or were kicked out. These artists either directly contributed to the art and worldbuilding of the webcomic, or were heavily influenced by it. To this day, there are many times someone links me to art on Discord and I’ll say “oh I remember that person, they used to be a Flora fanartist!” and the other person is absolutely floored that that artist was ever linked to Floraverse. Anyway… There have been multiple attempts at people trying to reclaim Floraverse from the author, and this never works out. Like, it really doesn’t work out. Any time that someone tries to reclaim Floraverse characters for themselves whilst condemning the author, that person is dogpiled by the Floraverse community. Which is a weird behavior for a CC BY-SA webcomic, but I digress. Here are some highlights:

In 2019, there was a thread dedicated to Redesigning Floraverse that immediately got taken over by Floraverse itself a month later.

An artist got harassed for multiple years (I think it was 2020-2023) for having an oc based on Beleth, a character in Floraverse.

Just 2 months ago, an artist got harassed for drawing fanart of the characters

Historically, reclaiming Floraverse characters from the author hasn't worked out. And I mean.. why would it? It's an actively running "webcomic" (I'll be charitable) and with an active community that supports the author's current works and views with their wallets. It's one thing to enjoy a piece of media with a problematic author and want to reclaim that media for yourself. It is another for this reclamation to actually be effective. Attempts of "reclaiming" Floraverse get written off as fanworks that the community dislikes. You cannot reclaim Floraverse characters as they do not exist in a vacuum. Listening to secondhand Brand New CDs does work in a vacuum; Jesse Lacey's career is dead in the water. The same cannot be said for reclaiming the art of Glitchedpuppet and co. Floraverse characters and stories are not divorced from the abuses they cause. Characters will be used as strawmen to abuse community members, past or present. Or entire works will be up dedicated to making light of your childhood trauma! These characters were made by an abuser, and will be used to abuse. That is a simple fact about Floraverse. Except... in that statement, I'm not even talking about Glitchedpuppet, the current author of Floraverse. I'm talking about Marlcabinet, the previous author of Floraverse. This statement does however, apply to both of them. Hey, wait a minute, that's weird! I've been talking about "death of the author" for this entire post, and I just said that reclaiming Floraverse characters can't work because the way the characters were used to abuse real people doesn't exist in a vacuum. So like, why does this work within the Floraverse webcomic itself? Marl is the abuser of Glip, but Marl is also the author of the majority of early Floraverse. Isn't the story itself, as it currently stands, an act of reclaiming characters used to abuse community members, minors, and any detractors? Then who is to say that those who contributed to Floraverse and were similarly abused are not also allowed this same privilege? Their real-world suffering is what fuels the comic. When I was 13-16, I adored a Floraverse character named Cayenne. His whole deal was that he was an autistic child slave and was horribly abused by everyone around him. Weird character to connect to, but he’s the character that made me figure out I had autism! I drew a LOT of fanart of this character and I even own a (gifted) life-size plush of him. The authors only ever treated him as a joke and it was a joke even within the Floraverse community that I was the only person who actually liked/cared about him. Sometimes I think about reclaiming him for myself. But I also don’t want to get harassed, and I know I could design much better things, and write better things. Conversely, I also think about how this is the exact character that made me get into contact with Marl when I was 16. It’s a heavy weight to carry knowing that this exact character was the reason I was almost in the clutches of a child predator. Glip personally deferred me to him. Reclaiming Cayenne would hold emotional value for me as a reminder of my triumph over a predator. Would it be wrong for me to reclaim an abused child character from a comic that abused me and many others as children? I've no clue. And I don't think anyone can answer that. I've waffled on it for ~2 years now. Reclaiming Cayenne would give attention to an individual that profits off abusing others, myself included. I'd say that reclaiming Floraverse characters wouldn't be a case of "death of the author", but the original creator of them was a child predator that's no longer on the internet. Floraverse is already practicing death of an author, and it is a shell of its former self. That being said, it is not a story that only has one author. Its other authors are still active, and these authors include every person that it has abused in its wake. After all, it's a comic that relies on you to know about its dramas with and traumas of real people. Tell me: Does a death of the author matter when its being written about you?

#text #brand new #floraverse #death of the author #abuse #grooming

63 notes · View notes

musashi · 3 months ago

Note

Pffff you sure do manage to piss a lot of people off, and not know why or how. Perhaps you should look inward.

i'd love to look inward, unfortunately these people i piss off never actually give me anything to work with. they'll say like "wendy, you eat babies" and then i say "can i have an example of when you saw me eat a baby" and then they block and ghost me and i go to my friends like "hey, did you ever see me eating babies? i'm trying to figure this out" and they all unanimously are like "uh no we never saw anything like that??? you did look at a baby once, maybe someone misunderstood???" and then five years pass and the person mad at me for eating babies leaves a long apology in my inbox and i connect with them through DMs and say "i'm just still confused. can you explain the thing where you said i ate babies? like do you remember what made you say that?" and without fail every time they reply "i don't know man, it just seemed right to say at the time."

i'm actually quite interested in bettering myself, and a great deal of my vent posts on here DO end with "i just don't understand" because of that desire. but i think a lot of people really do just forget that i am autistic and a huge part of autism is needing very clear examples of situations/behaviour/whatever. asking lots of questions, receiving lots of clarification, etc. with how mean and quick to abandon people have gotten on the internet lately, no one wants to give me that actionable feedback, or sit with me and help me understand what i might have done wrong/inelegantly. most of them just get angry, take my "maybe we should sit on this and come back to it later?" as an insult, and block me without answer.

currently, the person maligning me fully believes that i'm not "disabled" enough, claims i am "low support," and quite literally said "all [wendy's] symptoms [of disability] improve their life." i think this is very telling of a larger picture--people see how well i hide my cracks, how i boast my function, and how happy i am despite being disabled and file me away in their head as an arrogant neurotypical who is a little bit quirky.

but i would like to remind you, anon, that i am autistic. i am disabled. my social functioning is atypical. my way of understanding myself, my actions, and how those all mesh with the people i share a space with is atypical. "look inward" is great advice, and though I think you were trying to be mean, i welcome it with open arms! however, "look inward" only helps when i have additional help to guide me toward what exactly inward i am looking for. so, in this case, it is a little misguided.

if anyone who KNOWS ME PERSONALLY NOT ON TUMBLR who hates my fucking guts would like to give me some examples of how i act/talk/exist and why it makes them want to set a library on fire i am always, at any given moment, eagerly awaiting that feedback. but currently, the feedback is "none at all." every single person who has had a problem with me for the last half-decade of my life has simply blown up on me over things i did not do/intend/understand, or hardblocked me without a conversation and left me clueless as to what i did wrong.

until someone (friend or foe) is willing to actually communicate with me instead of being a sniveling coward, i will never know where inward to look. them's the breaks!

#wendy answers #Anonymous

21 notes · View notes

moonstruck73 · 1 month ago

Text

The Conclusion : Revisited.

A/N : Hello! So, this is my first ever fic that has seen the light of internet, so please excuse my punctuation or grammatical errors (English is not my first language). I'd love constructive criticism. Tear it down to pieces, actually.

And also, most importantly, this fic is basically an adaptation and/or a literal translation of the very old Bengali novel ,"সমাপ্তি" by the honored Rabindranath Tagore. I pretty much just pasted Nanami's name on the hero, lol. (Y'all can that become a copyright issue?? I'm genuinely curious now)

So.. no summary because I'm terrible at it.

Just another Nanami fic where he is young, in an ancient period, late 1800s or early 1900s, probably. And reader is sorta underage at first? But afterwards, she's not (Their age gap isn't over seven or eight). No warnings because there isn't going to be any explicit stuff. Oh, and it's third person POV.

Chapter 1

The only son of Nanami household was returning home.

The youthful young man of twenty was currently perched on a boat as it passed the calm waves of the river, towards the remote little village where he lived with his mother, his only remaining kin.

After the small boat neared the riverbank, he attempted to climb off cautiously. However, just as he stepped on the muddy bank, his foot slipped unceremoniously, and before long, he found himself lying on his back in the sloppy mud.

This narrator would like to spare the young man of further misery by describing the details of his epic fall. But a certain person was rather entertained. And as it happened when humans were too entertained, in this case too, the sound of a sweet, high pitched laughter rang out across the calm waves, startling off the birds resting upon the nearby tree.

Extremely embarrassed, Kento regained his bearings and stood up at the speed of light, narrowly dodging another fall in the wake, and his warm honey eyes found the source of the bittersweet torture.

He recognized the menace who was now laughing hysterically on a pile of bricks. She was the infamous bandit, the uncrowned Empress of the children of this village. Her family had moved here after a river erosion claimed their previous residence three years ago. This teenager was the apple of her father's eyes, source of stress of her mother and other ladies of the village, and the wild butterfly in the affectionate eyes of the menfolk.

Her father was the clerk in a faraway boat station, rarely able to stay home. However, when he was indeed, home, he showered her with enough love to last her a lifetime. Even her mother, who huffed and puffed about her behavior usually, never had the heart to make her cry in his absence.

Our young hero had, of course, seen her before when he had come home on vacation, never actually giving her too much thought, in his typical way. Yet, her face had left somewhat of an impression on his mind. Not for beauty or such things, but.. perhaps, it was the clarity. The sheer transparency in her features made it seem as if the unruly feminine nature itself was playing upon it like a free, agile creature of wilderness. But, once one saw this lively face, it was indeed difficult to completely wipe it off memory.

Needless to say, no matter how sweet her laughter was, it was very distressing for poor Kento. He quickly took up his luggage and walked off towards home with a flushed face.

The stage was very alluring. Calm riverbank, faint murmur of leaves, scattered morning sun rays, the beckoning of youth; of course, the pile of bricks weren't as remarkable, but the person sitting atop gave a pleasant allure to even this dry, hard seat.

Alas, what else could be crueller of fate than to turn all poetry to farce at the very first step at such a scene?

A/N : Whew, chapter one done. Feel free to point out the typos and errors! I'll try to post as regularly as I can, but.. y'know, student stuff. It'll be updated if I live!

Chapter two can be found here - https://www.tumblr.com/moonstruck73/767234404708941824/the-conclusion-revisited?source=share

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk au #jjk nanami #kento nanami #nanamin #jjk kento #nanami fluff #fanfic #nanami fanfic #idk how to tag this #what did i even write #jjk #jjk x reader #nanami x reader #pov third person #unreliable narrator

10 notes · View notes

hebuiltfive · 3 months ago

Text

The Five Mistakes of Virgil Tracy

HAPPY BIRTHDAY VIRGIL!

I posted an actual happy story for one of their birthdays? I am in shock.

This is part of a wider alternate universe set in the Regency era that I'm developing... with a twist. You may have a hundred questions regarding a certain scene in this story, but I promise it will all make sense once the actual Regency AU story is published (which will be soon, I hope!)

For now, enjoy Virgil getting up to some mischief.

There is no explicit smut or sex in this, but it is implied. If you do not like romance, this one might not be for you.

For those who prefer to read on AO3.

Mister Reeves's private art collection is not quite what Virgil had been expecting to visit. What happens at the Reeves's family estate, stays at the Reeves's family estate.

March, 1816. London.

It had been a stroke of luck — of good or bad was still to be determined — when John noticed Lord Tycho Reeves contemplating one particular landscape. He had soon introduced him to Virgil as a friend and colleague at the Novatores club. Virgil had been overly keen in meeting one of John’s friends. Most of the time, his studious brother kept his club and its members far away from the rest of the family. Virgil did not mind, although making a good impression had been paramount.

Art seemed to be the topic of choice, given their location. Virgil had turned to the painting Lord Reeves had been assessing and began to critique it earnestly. Surely any smart man who was a member of John’s club, and who possessed an interest in art, would too be able to see the imperfections of the piece.

“It lacks imagination,” Virgil had so boldly claimed. “The shadows are all wrong for one thing. Even a novice would be able to see that those shades are entirely incorrect. It gives the painting an inauthentic feel, and then, of course, there is the case of the sky.”

“What is wrong with the sky?” Another voice had asked. If Virgil had been paying proper attention to his surrounding company, he would have noticed that, while this new man sounded like Lord Reeves, it was not he who had spoken.

“It’s grey.”

“The skies of England are usually grey, are they not? Perhaps, as an American, you would not recognise this.”

Offended, Virgil finally returned his attention to the group. Though Lord Reeves had humoured his inital critique, he was now standing a little further back with his arms behind him. His grin looked suspiciously like a smirk. Next to him, John had a twinkle in his own eye.

That was when Virgil had realised they had been joined by another man. Slightly taller than Lord Reeves, with similar features, but identifiably a very different man.

“Please,” this new addition to the group continued, “carry on. What is wrong with the sky being grey?”

Virgil, suitably uncomfortable and feeling like he was missing part of the puzzle that made it all so amusing to Lord Reeves and his brother, had meekly explained. “… Everything else in this landscape suggests… a happy memory. The lake twinkles as the sunlight catches it, though I cannot fathom where the sunlight is coming from, which suggests a magic spark.”

“Could it not be simply the light refracting the surface of the water?”

“That would be too literal.”

“And art cannot be literal?”

“Of course it can, but this is obviously not.”

“How so?”

Virgil sighed with a hint of irritation. “Metaphors in art are curated in the palettes, designed in the brushstrokes, admired by the viewer. Imagination is what drives art forward. Creative, human spirit!”

“The sunlight could pierce the clouds.”

“It does not represent that.”

“Imagine that it does then.”

Before Virgil could further dig himself into a hole, Lord Reeves stepped forward. “Mister Tracy, please allow me to introduce to you my younger brother, Percival… the artist of the piece you are currently observing.”

The blood had drained from Virgil’s features as the situation slowly sunk in.

He was thankful that Mister Reeves had not been insulted by Virgil’s strong critiques. Instead of turning away from him in anger, he had invited Virgil to tour the rest of the gallery with him and, once they had finished, invited him to visit his own private studio back at his family seat in Kent. This invitation had been solidified when, two days later, Virgil had received a letter from Reeves once again inviting him to his family home. Feeling as though he could not decline such a kind request, Virgil organised his schedules for his trip and set off the following week.

The long journey south had filled Virgil with anxiety. Every couple of hours he’d contemplate whether visiting would be a good idea. The last thing he wanted to do was put his foot in it again. When his carriage rolled up to the Reeves’s Estate at noon, Virgil had still not reached a definitive conclusion on what was best. He noticed Reeves all but skipping down the steps to greet him and quickly decided it was too late to do anything but stay.

April, 1816. Kent.

As Virgil stepped out of his carriage and the man drew closer, Virgil could make out the intricate pattern on Mister Reeves’s waistcoat. A design of dark, swirling lines, blooming in flowery explosions. The colours complimented the rest of his attire well and Virgil instantly realised two things: the first was that this was a man who knew how to present himself. Of course, he was hosting a guest for the next couple of days, however the clothing he wore suggested to Virgil that was ostentatious. The second realisation was that Reeves was a man who prided himself in being that way. If Virgil hadn’t already known better, he wouldn’t have been shocked to hear of Reeves’s love of art. He used himself as a canvas, and Virgil unexpectedly found himself appreciating that.

The first item of their agenda, according to Reeves once Virgil’s luggage had been seen to be a footman, was a guided tour of the country estate. His brother was apparently out for the weekend with their mother and Mister Reeves had expressed great relief at having the estate to himself (minus the obvious staff that flitted in and out of rooms as they passed through them).

Before arriving, Virgil had done thorough research on the man he was about to visit. He had asked John for tidbits of information from what he’d heard from Lord Reeves regarding his younger brother, and had surreptitiously inquired about the man at various events and social gatherings in the week leading up to his journey. He hadn’t been expecting Reeves to share as much as he currently was during their stroll, but had listened intently, as he would with a close friend, pretending he hadn’t heard half the story already.

Unlike his brother, Lord Reeves’s imagination had led him down a path of academia. He favoured turning to science and mathematics in order to understand the world around him. Percival's passions had always been more fanciful, decreed by the arts and a far cry from the world of equations and physics.

With his freedoms as the second-born son, it meant that Reeves had spent the better half of his youth creating. While his brother conducted his technological tests up in his study, Mister Reeves had dared to study the various crafts of art. First, the childish abstract art that a muddy puddle in the grounds of their vast country estate, then, as he grew older, so did his interests. Sculptures and poetry fascinated him, but it was in painting where his true passions dwelled.

Virgil could relate to most of that. He, too, was called to a different path than his brothers. It was refreshing to hear Mister Reeves’s brief story, though when he asked questions regarding Virgil’s own family in the process, Virgil was a much more closed book. He was thankful when the topic of conversation changed to the varieties of plants in Tycho’s greenhouses, even if neither of them were particularly knowledgeable on the subject.

Drizzle began and they made the decision to start back up to the house. They passed a lake that appeared very similar to the painting Virgil had critiqued when they had first met, and then various flower beds before ending the tour by the stables just as the rain began to pick up.

It had been fascinating, taking a walk through the gardens of the Reeves’s estate, but Virgil was far more at home once he was given the tour of the interior. The paintings that hung on the walls of the house were more familiar to Virgil than plants and trees. They strolled further into the grand manor, passing through halls and rooms so elaborate they would no doubt rival the Royal Palaces themselves, until they eventually came to the private art gallery.

Most of the artwork that lined the first room was very similar to those that Mister Reeves had already displayed at the gallery where they’d first been introduced: a couple of watercolour landscape pieces that had been inspired by his home in Kent; a portrait of his older brother painted with oils; a few commissioned pieces that had never been paid in full and so Reeves had kept them as payment.

“An unfortunately common occurrence.” He had sadly claimed.

All had been what Virgil was expecting to see upon arriving. No bold, critiquing comments were made on any of the pieces he saw, however. He had learned his lesson the first time around and the shame he felt in the aftermath… Virgil hadn’t forgiven himself for days. If that had been him on the receiving end, he wouldn’t have recovered for a while. Not that his self-esteem was bad, that is. The case with Virgil came down to his sensibilities; out of the five Tracy brothers, Virgil was undoubtedly the most sensitive.

Mister Reeves guided him through to the second room of the studio. It was low lit and more crowded than the first chamber. As they entered, Reeves pulled back the covers that had been blocking the windows and the afternoon sun streamed in. Light lit up the area, the canvases that were haphazardly strewn across various work surfaces…

And Virgil stopped dead in his tracks.

The previous landscape images and average portraits were the paintings he had been expecting to view.

The image of the scantly clad woman, however, was not.

Virgil blushed.

And Percival Reeves liked that. His smile turned devilish.

“Is this imaginative enough for you, Mister Tracy?” Reeves asked as he sidled up beside his new friend.

Virgil observed the painting. It was certainly suggestive and Reeves’s alluring demeanour and tone only amplified it.

He convinced himself that he was only interested in the brushstrokes, in the colour palette that had been used. It only half-worked.

The ivory dress the model wore had slipped down substantially, leaving bare shoulders on display. Delicately painted hands held up the gown which remained covering her more intimate parts, but the suggestion was enough. Soft ringlets of her brunette hair fell from her fancy up-do.

Whoever this woman was, she was exquisite. Virgil wasn’t sure whether she was real or merely a figment of Reeves’s imagination, and he dared not ask for her identity. The last thing he wanted to appear as was indecent.

Then again, it had been Reeves who had invited him to his private studio, who had guided him into this second chamber, who had revealed to him these secret paintings.

To further his point, Reeves did not seem to care for indecency. As if reading Virgil’s mind, he traced his fingers lightly over the woman’s painted features. “Her name was Clara. She was a model down at the club I frequent.” His index finger reached the rouged lips of the model. “She’s magnificent, isn’t she?”

A variety of questions inundated Virgil’s mind. He kept them at bay and simply — meekly — nodded. “You said ‘was’?”

“Clara no longer models for us.” Mister Reeves explained, dropping his hand back down to his side. “Rumours claim that one of our members became ‘involved’ with her and, when their relationship ended unpleasantly, Clara left and never looked back.”

So entranced as he was by such a scandalous image, that was now additionally paired with a scandalous story, Virgil found he could not take his eyes off the painting.

When Mister Reeves’s gaze drifted over to him, he felt the man’s eyes on him rather than saw them.

“Gossip can be such an obstacle.” Reeves continued. “The Ton seem to thrive on tittle-tattle. Have you ever read that damned gossip sheet that makes it’s rounds now and then? Utter poppycock! Drivel! I believe it to be a vulgar practice. In fact, I think spreading frivolous gossip is far more vulgar than showcasing a painting of natural beauty. Would you not agree, Mister Tracy?”

Beside him, Virgil felt Mister Reeves inch closer.

“Yet, while the gossip rags are allowed to be published and distributed, my paintings are prohibited from being shown in public art galleries. Tell me, do you believe that to be a fair practice?”

Virgil’s collar suddenly felt too tight. The question posed by Reeves sounded like a test of some kind and Virgil found himself not wanting to fail. He could see how such an illustration could be deemed “too promiscuous” to display, no matter the natural beauty it showcased, but made no comment. He continued to stare at the painting, unblinking.

Reeves went on. “I do not think you are the sort of man who enjoys listening to mindless gossip. You appear to be a man who prefers thoughtful conversation.”

His host’s words became more emphasised, more accentuated, more connotative.

“You come across as someone who would rather indulge in more stimulating dialogue, no?”

Virgil grew hotter. Mister Reeve’s arm now brushed against his own and Virgil’s heart-rate quickened. He blamed it easily on the portrait that he still stared directly at.

If Reeves was testing him, Virgil thought that is was a rather unfair test.

“How do you like to be captivated, Mister Tracy?”

His host was being wilfully provocative. Mister Reeves’s arm again brushed up against his own sleeve. It was a momentary touch, fleeting and possibly accidental… No, not accidental. Paired with the words and the images and the previous touch, Mister Reeves had intentionally moved closer a second time.

Still Virgil said nothing. Still he did nothing. He allowed the feelings, so unfamiliar to him they almost frightened him, to swell and infect every part of his body and mind.

He began to wonder if this was the sort of thrill his brother sought when he visited her. If that was the case then Virgil was on the path of understanding what the appeal was.

Mister Reeves had grown quiet, and Virgil realised he had yet to answer his question.

Nervously he cleared his throat, his words seeming foreign on his tongue as he spoke. “I, uh, do partake in poetry.”

He dared a glance towards his host. That was his first mistake —

No, it was his second.

Virgil’s first mistake had been accepting Mister Reeves’ invitation, though, of course, despite his initial hesitations, he had not known back then what would transpire.

This second mistake of his — turning to face Reeves — could have been far more avoidable. Upon seeing the portraits, Virgil could have upped-and-left. That would have been the proper thing to do.

But he had been so transfixed by the images he had seen, marvelled by their beauty, that Virgil simply could not leave. Never mind the fact that it would have been a rather rude gesture towards the man who had essentially given him a second chance with that kind invite.

Just as the painting was easy to get lost in, Mister Reeves’s eyes, Virgil realised, were the sort one could drown in. Without a second thought, he imagined how he could possibly paint them. Bold and daring, with a touch of tawny in the hazel iris. Perfectly opulent…

Dear Lord, he was staring! Straight into the other man’s eyes and—

Virgil’s blush returned with vengeance. His cheeks grew warm and there was nothing he could do to stop them from reddening.

Perhaps the invite had not been kind at all. Perhaps it had been an elaborate scheme that Mister Reeves had concocted to further embarrass him after he had made those comments!

Reeves chuckled, however. It was not the sort of vicious or malicious laughter that came at the expense of another, but one that was reassuring. Gentle and understanding, Mister Reeves reached out.

Despite the fabric of his shirt separating their skin, a thrilling tingle was still sent up Virgil’s arm upon his touch.

…

Oh, this was ridiculous!

Virgil cleared his throat, attempting to compose himself in the face of Mister Reeves. He inhaled deeply, which proved to be his third mistake. The scent of rich orange and bergamot coming from the man standing beside him drowned his senses completely.

“One shade the more, one ray the less, / Had half impaired the nameless grace / Which waves in every raven tress, / Or softly lightens o’er her face; / Where thoughts serenely sweet express, / How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.”

“Byron.” Virgil instantly recognised the piece.

“I, too, partake in some poetry from time to time.” Mister Reeves admitted.

“It is a beautiful poem.”

“It is. I have a variety of poetry books in my private library.”

Virgil cracked an amused smile. “Is this private library as solicitous as this private art collection is?”

Mister Reeves simply stared at him and, for a moment, Virgil wondered if he’d been too bold.

Before he could backtrack and offer an apology, however, Mister Reeves’s smile curled. “Would you think poorly of me if they were?”

Virgil did not think poorly of any man or woman, with the exception of a couple who were truly, under Virgil’s terms, despicable. Mister Reeves, in the short amount of time he had known him, did not seem to be that sort of man.

“Art is not to be thought poorly of.” He diplomatically decreed. “It should be subjective, not discredited due to themes or images alone.”

“Unless it is an unimaginative piece down at the Royal Art Gallery?” Mister Reeves chuckled, the twinkle in his eye suggesting he was glad Virgil was being more direct.

“Am I ever to live that down?”

“It is looking more and more unlikely, Mister Tracy.”

That was fair enough, he thought to himself. “I see. Well, in that case, I shall have to work hard to regain your trust in my judgement.”

“I do not distrust your judgement in the slightest, Mister Tracy.”

Virgil could feel the blush return to his cheeks. “That’s very kind of you to say, Mister Reeves.”

“Please, call me Percival. If we are to be friends, it feels only right.”

The offered hand that Mister Reeves — Percival — had extended was met halfway by Virgil, who had been expecting a handshake from the man. There was no handshake, however, and instead Percival enclosed his fingers around Virgil’s hand, squeezed gently and then pulled him back through the doorway of his art studio. Virgil did not stop him, which proved to be his fourth mistake, and they retraced their steps through the hallway, turning in the opposition direction to lead down a new staircase Virgil had not yet seen. The steps were lined with a beautifully soft red runner and, eventually, Percival came to a stop outside another room, this time locked.

Percival made short work of unlocking the door, opening it to a view of his private library, if the lines and lines of shelving were any clue. Percival pulled Virgil inside, only letting go of his hand once the door behind them was shut.

“This is my second home.” He announced rather proudly. “Or my third, if you were to count the actual house as a home.”

“You do not?”

Virgil’s question was asked half-distractedly. He began to inspect the rows and rows of books that sat upon the nearest shelf.

On the Origin of Species

Believing Is Seeing: Is There Life on Mars?

Relativity: The Special and General Theory

Dark Matter and Dark Energy: The Hidden 95% of the Unknown

A Brief History of Time

Challenging Technology

Sustainable Transport Innovations

The Voyage of the Beagle

Beyond the Horizon: Exploring Breakthroughs in Modern Science

Whatever answer Percival had given to his question, Virgil did not hear. He ran a finger along one of the books worn spines, feeling the groove of the embossed titles that made no sense. After all Percival had said regarding the differences between his brother and himself, Virgil had half-expected a library full of books on the arts. This library looked more like a trove fit for Tycho instead.

His eyes scanned over the titles again.

A Brief History of Time… The Voyage of the Beagle… On the Origin of Species…

Virgil’s mouth grew dry. Beneath the layers of his clothing, goosebumps rose.

Something was wrong.

Fog descended on his mind, skewing his thoughts from questioning any further. The hair on the back of his neck rose and static noise drowned out whatever Percival was currently speaking about. There was a steady beeping sound that was barely audible amongst the crackling disturbance.

Virgil glanced back to the row of books, impossible books, books that seemed wrong. They didn’t belong here, and not because he thought they were Tycho’s books instead. There was something Virgil couldn’t quite put his finger on, something very obvious that was staring him right in the face… but that damned hissing wasn’t helping him think! He resisted the urge to lift up his hands and cover his ears; it wouldn’t have helped.

Virgil jumped when Percival’s hand landed on his arm. The fog instantly lifted, the noise dissipating until he could hear his host’s words clearly once again.

“Are you feeling well, Tracy?”

Without missing a beat, Virgil nodded his assurance. “Yes! Yes, I am… I am well. My apologies.”

“Are you quite sure? You seemed…” Percival trailed off, his eyes searching Virgil’s cautiously. “… distant. Like you were—”

“I assure you, I am fine!”

Despite the confidence with which Virgil had declared his health, the truth was much more different. His heart was still thundering away behind his chest, his head swimming, not only from confusion but from some sort of after effect. He held onto the shelving for support, disguising the fact by gesturing to the line of books. “You have a wonderful collection here, Percival.”

It was only once he complimented the books that Virgil dared to look at the titles again.

The Analysis of Beauty

A Treatise on Painting

The Lives of the Most Excellent Painters, Sculptors and Architects

Bile rose up Virgil’s throat. He was certain those same books held different titles only moments ago. He frowned, tearing his eyes away from the books that had caused his funny turn; he did not wish to go down that rabbit hole again.

“Thank you.” Percival bowed his head in acknowledgement.

Whether he could sense Virgil’s unease or not, Virgil did not know. All he knew was that his host was guiding him by the arm to sit upon one of the leather couches in the centre of the library. Virgil allowed himself to be seated, forcing himself to offer Percival a weak smile. It did nothing to quell Percival’s look of scepticism.

Nevertheless, Percival continued. “As I was saying, I count this as a home away from home.”

“Yes, you said you did not class your house as a home.” Virgil recalled, tracing his mind back to their conversation before he’d been swept up in… whatever that had been. “Is the house not naturally your home?”

“No.” Percival had been nothing but confident since Virgil arrived. He had stood tall, spoke relatively freely and without concern. Yet, with that small, one-worded confession, the man had changed. His tone became quieter, his shoulder hunched making his appearance seem smaller than normal.

“I find the house is less of a home and more of a place where one resides.” He explained carefully. “My studio, this library, feel more homely to me than the house at large does. Oftentimes, the bottom of my liquor bottle is more conversational than my brother or anyone else in this damned household.” Percival’s eyes met Virgil’s. “Do you not feel that way too sometimes, Mister Tracy?”

He took the seat beside him on the couch, his arm stretching out across the back cushions behind Virgil. “Do you not feel encased or entrapped by the house in which you reside?”

Virgil shook his head, though in truth, he had never once given it a thought. His family were the kindest, most welcoming people he knew. They made his house a home. He refrained from sharing that, however. The last thing he wanted to do was sound as though he was boasting, even if Percival had asked him the question in the first place.

Percival grinned with a subtle touch of jealousy. “How lucky you are to not understand first-hand what the pain is like.”

“But surely your brother—”

“I told you, Tycho is less interesting than my bottles of liquor on a good day. He rarely cares for what I do, being too busy tinkering away in his little laboratory or polishing himself up in order to appear just as our father did, a pillar of society. He does not care what I do or who I have become.”

“He was at your art show the other month.” Virgil carefully pointed out. “Surely that means he still must care in some capacity?”

“Everything Tycho does is for show, Mister Tracy.” Percival met Virgil’s eyes again and the vulnerability was clear. This was a man who had turned to his creative pursuits to escape his own reality. Virgil could relate to that, even if he couldn’t entirely empathise with the exact reasons why.

“You must be lonely.”

“Sometimes.” He smiled weakly. “But I am glad I have found a friend in you, Mister Tracy.”

“Please, if I am to call you Percival, you must call me Virgil.”

Percival’s smile grew, softening the hurt in his eyes. “Well, I am glad to have found a friend in you, Virgil Tracy.”

“And I with you.”

“Do not tell me a man such as yourself is without friends?”

“I am afraid all my friends are back home in America.”

Any trace of Percival’s vulnerability was shed. He welcomed the change in topic gladly, lifting one leg up to tuck underneath himself as he turned to face Virgil, his arm still outstretched behind him. Virgil felt relief when Percival did not retrieve that hand, and then batted away his feeling once he’d realised it.

“Tell me about home. My father visited once but he rarely spoke about it.”

“Probably because there isn’t a lot to say.”

“Nonsense! Do not be modest with me now, Virgil. I showed you my most secret collections.”

Virgil grinned. “Perhaps do not call them ‘secret collections’.”

“Why not?”

“It gives the impression that you are a secretive man.”

“Is there a problem with secretive men, Tracy?”

“No, not at all, but it usually begs the question as to what the man is keeping secret.”

“I have laid pretty much all bare with you. What possible questions might you still have?”

“If everything is a secret, Reeves, I’m afraid I wouldn’t know what else I might be wondering about.”

“In that case, allow me to wonder about you. You may not have private art collections, Virgil Tracy, — or maybe you do, who am I to judge? — but you are quite the enigma yourself. Tell me, compared to myself, how deeply have you answered my questions this afternoon?”

Virgil felt slightly guilty. “Perhaps I am simply not as deep as you might think I am.”

“I would have to disagree with you there. I think that you’re extremely deep and meaningful. You just don’t trust very easily, which I understand entirely, but…”

Percival trailed off, shuffling a little closer to Virgil. The hand outstretched behind him gently brushing against Virgil’s shoulder. He tried not to elicit a reaction, tried to ignore the sweet tingle that was left once Percival’s hand left him again, but it was harder to hide than it had been in the art studio.

“But you don’t have to worry here.” He continued, so close his whisper breezed Virgil’s cheeks.

Virgil Tracy’s fifth mistake was not standing up and leaving the library in that very moment, though mistake might have been too harsh a word. The word ‘mistake’ is commonly left with connotations of regret, and Virgil did not regret what happened next in the slightest. Percival’s rich scent of orange and bergamot clouded Virgil’s senses. It enveloped him, ensnared him. He noticed now how Percival’s eyes were more tawny than they were green, citing the different in lighting in the library being the primary reason. He’d have to remember that when he painted the man… if he painted the man.

His muse quite often struck at odd moments. On one occasion, while stuck at the dinner table of one of Lord Clingsdale’s banquets, Virgil had composed an entire symphony in his mind. On another occasion he had written the most beautiful poem whilst playing a round of ninepins with his family. He transcribed it later that evening before he could forget it entirely.

But this sudden surge of creative passion was different. It was stronger. This time his inspiration did not arrive due to boredom or having a lovely afternoon on the green with his family. This time his inspiration came from the very handsome man who had invited him into his home and bared his soul to him.

Virgil reigned himself in.

There was never a logical or calculated moment for when his muse would strike, but he just couldn’t be thinking about that, not now.

Not when Percival was this close to him.

Not when Percival inched his face toward him.

Not when Percival’s lips, so soft, experimentally pressed against his own.

It was over within a second. Percival pulled his lips away and stared at Virgil, assessing his reaction. The kiss had been so fast, Virgil hadn’t been able to process it fully. His confused blinking had Percival frowning, his cheeks warming up.

“Was that…? Oh, God, that was too much, wasn’t it?” Percival jumped up from his position, clearly embarrassed, but all Virgil felt was his absence the moment he left. Beside him, the couch still had a Percival-shaped dent from where he’d been seated.

Distraught, Percival clamped a palm over his forehead. “I’ve ruined it all now, haven’t I? Please, Mister Tracy, accept my thorough apologies! I do not know what came over me…”

The buttons on his waistcoat, unique in its periwinkle shade, were fiddled around with. That vulnerability Percival had displayed earlier, of which Virgil was sure he’d only barely glimpsed, only scratched the surface of witnessing, had returned.

Virgil stood immediately and strolled over to the pacing man. He caught Percival’s hands before he could do any damage to his waistcoat buttons and, to his surprise, Percival ceased his fidgeting. Virgil knew he had a calming quality, an aura that was tranquil, but he rarely didn’t surprise himself with his abilities. His father had once claimed that he was a lot like his mother in that regard and Virgil had held that compliment close to his chest ever since.

The not-quite-tawny-not-quite-hazel eyes glanced at him with hesitance, but Virgil didn’t allow him to back away. If Scott was allowed to have his fun, then why couldn’t he? After all, one more kiss was harmless enough, wasn’t it?

Gently, for he did not want to ruin Percival’s intricately designed waistcoat, Virgil’s fingers wrapped around the lapels and drew him nearer. Their slight difference in height had Virgil leaning forward and up, but he wasted no time in reassuring Percival that he hadn’t ruined anything.

This time, Virgil made sure that their kiss wasn’t so light and experimental. Their brief few hours together had enticed both of them, and Virgil wanted Percival to know that he wasn't the only one who felt that way. Whether it was love or lust, or maybe a mixture of both, Virgil did not know. All he knew was he craved more of Percival’s attention, more of his touch.

Percival seemed stunned when Virgil went in for his less delicate kiss but, once he got over his initial shock that yes he hadn’t ruined his new friendship — could it be deemed such now? — with this man, gave as good as he got. Hands trailed clothed bodies, tables were bumped into and enamoured giggles were exchanged in short bursts of breath, until they found themselves back at the couch once again.

When Virgil had first arrived earlier that afternoon, he had not known what to expect. If he had been able to cast his mind’s eye to the future to envision this current scenario, he might have turned away out of fear. Now that he was here, however, living in the moment and cherishing every second, he was glad humans did not possess that impossible ability.

‘One more kiss’ turned into a cascade of them. Lips began to explore more areas — cheeks and necks and chests. They almost missed dinner, too wrapped up in themselves and their desires to care for the time. When society deems something as taboo for too long, one is more inclined to take a bite out of the denied apple.

In between their fits of passion, Percival assured Virgil that what happened during his stay would remain within the walls of the manor… or the greenhouse, or the confines of the lake area, wherever they wished to adventure next. Silly little love affairs were not something to be ashamed of, Reeves had claimed, but something that deserved to be experienced every now and then, and Virgil had to agree.

He was almost sad to leave the following afternoon. Percival had been disappointed that Virgil did not accept his offer to stay longer, but after promising him he’d return as soon as he could, Percival had lightened up a little again. He waved him off as his carriage departed and Virgil found himself looking back through the cab’s windows, watching the small speck that was the Reeves Estate slowly disappear over the horizon.

When John had inquired about his trip the morning after he’d returned back home, Virgil had kept the details minimal. If his brother had seen through some of his more reserved statements, he did not let on, nor did he question Virgil when he spent more time in his studio painting over the subsequent month. Virgil was grateful for that. Inspired by Percival’s private art studio, Virgil had installed a small lock on the door to his own. The portrait he was currently working on was for his eyes only. He didn’t want to make the mistake of allowing one of his brothers to accidentally stumble across it. He was on a running streak of not feeling guilty over the last five mistakes he’d made, and, high on life, Virgil had no intention of breaking that streak just yet.

#thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderbirds are go #thunderfam #thunderbirds au #regency au #virgil tracy #oc - percival reeves #five fics #fic: the five mistake of virgil tracy #series: out of time (regency au)#romance

13 notes · View notes

g0ldgauntlet · 1 year ago

Text

I do not feel sympathy for Michaela Laws.

This is sort of a vent post (and likely the only post I'll ever make about Yansim since anything else I could say has probably been said by several other people), so feel free to scroll past this if you're not interested.

If you are, then proceed below. (Tw for grooming)

A few days ago, Michaela Laws resigned from her role as Ayano Aishi from Yandere Simulator after learning that its developer had groomed a minor. I want to first make clear that I am glad that she left, and she did the right thing by leaving. However, all I could keep thinking was one thing: Why did it take her this long?

So many people already knew about how horrible Alex Mahan (aka Yandere Dev) was. Surely someone must have told her-

Oh wait.

I found out that multiple people did, in fact, tell her about his past actions. Her response was to defend him, and then she doubled down on defending him when she was informed of the more current actions that Alex had committed at the time.

If you don't believe that's her, the post is still up on Tumblr via this reblog and here. Michaela knew about all of this as far back as 2017.

I find it most interesting that in these screenshots and posts, she referred to everyone who despised Alex as "anti-dev masses," and she ignored the things he said and did because she is, in her words, "an intellectual who can separate fiction from reality."

She even claimed that the people telling her that he treats women differently (which he does) are "sexist," even when said people told her that he very well could have hurt other people even if he was nice to just her.

The cherry on top of this is her unironic usage of the term "SJW," which tells me everything that I need to know about this. And you know what? Her saying in her resignation tweet that she still hopes that the game gets completed makes perfect sense to me now despite how out of place it feels compared to everything else. If she believes in separating fiction from reality, then she likely believed that she could still separate content from the creator.

In Alex's case, I strongly disagree with that notion, but what feels more contradictory is this other statement in the tweet:

I did not join to be a defender or arbiter of anyone's actions outside of the project.

However...That is literally what Michaela did. As I said, she defended Alex because of the "rumors" being spread about him.

She doesn't get to cry on Twitter about things turning out like this when she willingly claimed that Alex was only getting so much bad attention because "people don't like him."

She was the one who said "don't believe everything you hear." It was her who downplayed Alex's actions as "mistakes" or "accidents," and she claimed that he is "just a guy trying to make a game and be a game developer."

She doesn't get to backtrack now and pretend that she didn't knowingly defend Alex and stick by him for six more years after the making of that Tumblr post.

It took her six years and another minor after sisefs getting hurt for her to acknowledge what most people who knew about Yandere Simulator already knew about this man - That he is a terrible human being.

To be clear, I am not putting any blame on Michaela for what happened to the victims. I do not believe that she could have known about the current victim, or even the past one at the time of when the information came to light. Also, I do appreciate her giving support to all of the victims involved and correcting her previous statement since some (myself included) thought that she was perpetuating victim-blaming. However, that is as much benefit of the doubt that I could possibly give her. As for everything else? I cannot do that, and here's why:

It is my belief that she was well aware of what she was doing, and she either didn't see anything wrong with what Alex did or just didn't care until she finally realized how badly this all reflects on her now that Alex has been shown up-front once again to be an awful person (I also believe that this is connected to the backtracking in her resignation tweet as well).

Basically, my frustration comes from how far things had to get before she finally decided to denounce Alex and his actions.

She made her choice. Given that she previously claimed that she does not care about trying to look better and said that she would delete attempts to "sway" her about Alex, it seems clear that this was also the hill that she was willing to die on. Well, look where that got her. I cannot, for the life of me, understand how she didn't expect that a terrible person with a rightfully terrible reputation would end up doing something even more terrible, and that she was willing to ignore everything up until now. I don't understand how she didn't think that this would also negatively affect the game by association of the developer, but at this point, whatever happens to the game doesn't matter nearly as much as what Alex has done and likely will continue to do since it's been proven time and time again that he will never change as a person.

So no, I don't feel sympathy for Michaela Laws. I don't feel bad about her saying that she stuck with this game for almost ten years despite sticking up for Alex and sticking by him for six of those years. She did this to herself, and Yandere Simulator is probably something that she will be connected to for a long time since she is well-known as the voice of the game's main character. She could have left sooner, but chose not to and made it clear that she didn't want to until the truth had to be shoved right in front of her face.

So for that, Michaela only has herself to blame.

Edit:

I would like to add this Twitter thread that proves the point I was making here.

Michaela, three years after the Tumblr post I linked, straight up admits that she doesn't care about what Alex does, and she accuses a victim of Cryaotic (another groomer) of lying.

Even if Michaela apologized for the latter bit, it just goes to show that she was more than willing to ignore what people told her about Alex and still stand by him and the game.

This whole thing is a recurring trend with her. Had Alex not been exposed again, she probably would still be defending him even now.

She isn't sorry about being a part of the project at all.

And if she isn't sorry, then I don't feel sorry for her either.

#yandere simulator #yansim #yandere dev #michaela laws #honest to god i seriously don't know what she was expecting #yandev being horrible again?? what a shocker #vent post #grooming #gold's essays

58 notes · View notes

mimikoolover · 5 months ago

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/mimikoolover/753926264796119040/ive-never-seen-one-jikooker-ever-defend-jungkook?source=share

u asked for a link to the tweet so i went to check on twitter but the acct is currently private as they do it often but the@ is @/seatotterskm13 now idk when she'll go off private cause sometimes she goes off private immediately sometimes after days but I'll see if i can get it when they're off private. I'm already preety inactive on twitter but I'll see and get it.

Even in the ppl in the gc i don't remember the names properly but like nochujimi, night2712 smtg, Keira, kookmoons etc these accts are in the video too and even i have seen them defending jk. The tweets must be up there acct. Can scroll and see. I don't follow all of them i know only nochujimi and you can literally scroll through her twitter and see her defending jk multiple times. She's pro Palestine so she has called out scooter Barun but never once has she dragged golden or anything. Same with other accts. Anyways some of them accts in the video has requested for the archived which shows deleted data which might come off. Idt ppl has time to listen to jk's album and show literal receipts of that while also hating on him in some GCS like pretending on twitter is one thing but pretending to like jk's music in ur private is another. Kookmoons has showed receipts of her recent streamings too.

https://x.com/kookmoons/status/1804238913382293599

Like i very well know how ppl can frame you i have been through that so when I see someone exposing another human my first thought is always how much truth it holds. Ppl on this damn app accuse you of based off of their assumptions and bs so i will always question how much truth it holds no matter what. I won't if it's coming from jk anti but when i know atleast one acct from it why should i belive that gc? That too from jjks? The closeted tkkrs? And this ain't coming from manipulation this is coming from experience who's been on that app and in the fandom for yrs now.

https://curiouscat.live/hoetolegy/post/1356358130

This is supposed to be a jm biased jkkr yet she always defends jk, golden on tl in her cc. This one is just recent but there's tens of her doing so during all these months. she always said that jk deserves all that promo and so does jm but dragging jk ain't it. her frnd circle is also jkkr and all of them have defended jk. That's why i said you're on wrong side of twitter idk.

granted most of them are ot2 but you saying "i have never seen jkkrs defend jk" is something else. Hope you don't expect us to keep links to all the tweets of jkkrs defending jk cause you'd ask me them defending jm and i still won't be able to bring many cause i don't keep tab but i see it when it happens.

I looked back on nochujimin's tweets and I could not see one where they defend Jungkook against jimin solos.

this person in particular appeared in the video saying that they agree with jimin solos.

that's where this originated from in my brain. they have pretty much admitted to being a jimin solo.

idc if they claim to love jungkook. I don't care if they seemingly defend him from tkkers because they're just playing their shitty war with tkkers, it's not about jungkook.

until I see these people denouncing jimin solos and talk about tkkers, jjks and pjms in the same breath, including pjms in their rants, then I will believe they are not jungkook antis.

they never need to mention pjms because pjms don't hate on jimin and they only care about the hate jimin gets. aka they are jungkook antis.

14 notes · View notes

byghostface · 9 months ago

Note

Look I dunno what this Daminika shipping drama is all about. (I followed you because I like your Rayllum art).

but it's not a cool thing to do to share stuff calling Jon Kent/ Damian Wayne ship "pedophilic yaoi". sounds homophobic.

We should only call the actual crime of pedophilia that and not use the word like a petty insult. Also all this rage gave me the impression that Jon/Damian was like a super twisted ship or something but I googled it and they are 17 and 13 y.o. which would be weird irl yes but that's still literally not pedophilia. they are both teens and people draw them looking the same age in fan art anyway.

If you are not in the dc fandom then maybe don't speak on something you think you know.

But it's not a cool thing to do to share stuff calling Jon Kent/ Damian Wayne ship "pedophilic yaoi". sounds homophobic.

Damian and Jon always have 3 years age gap, even before dc age up Jon, they are like 13 and 10, And after age up(Jon is stuck in space had lived through years and is back on earth) they are now 14 and 17. In most of the fan art, you see people who draw them looking the same age pre-age up, because Damian is really short at 13. And people started to ship them when Jon is 10 year old child. You don't date a child when you're a teen, or date a 14 year old teen and being a college student, that is weird.

In the current comic Jon Kent has a boyfriend-Jay Nakamura(Gossamer) whom he met in college and still happily dating.( then there are racist thing ppl would said about Jay on twitter just bc he is a Japanese character and the other shipper use that to attack him too bc they doesn't like Jayjon as a ship )

-[Action Comics v1 1059 (2024)]-Artist: Marguerite Sauvage-

As an asexual, I mostly headcanon Nika and Damian as nonbinary and asexual. And a lot of the ppl who like Daminika see them as trans for trans too.

You said you followed me for my rayllum art. So you don’t know what the characters I’m talking about, have been drawing about in dc fandom. In my previous vent post is referring to the weird age gap ship, and the maturity of different ages and mentalities when characters are being ship together. And that ship's shippers + incest proshippers are being misogyny towards Nika relentlessly. It's not about against mlm ship, or being homophobic like you claimed.

Maybe you are young and see the fanart and can't think clearly what the issue is. That I can understand, because a few years ago(when I was young and dumb!! and didn't/unable to use my brain to think clearly!!!) I used to think the weird age gap was nothing but now I'm looking back and regret the weird ship I used to ship and draw (Toph and Sokka), I don't ship them anymore + Suki x Sokka superior!!

I have deleted some of Toph and Sokka art and the remaining ones have changed titles and tags to platonic sense. I didn't delete them all because they are still part of my (dumb and reckless!!!) art journey and the things that I'm now getting over and will not ever draw as a ship again.

Which would be weird irl yes but that's still literally not pedophilia.

You admit that would be weird irl and yet tired to dismiss me when I express my uncomfortableness and wanting those ppl to leave the characters(Nika & Respawn) I care about alone. If you are the type of proshipper that says fictional doesn't affect reality… then stop talking to me + invalid opinions‼️ (don't affect reality?? Of course it is! You are a person in reality who argues with me about fiction and conception/representation that affect all of us)

Like I said in my vent post, I never want to interact with them and I don't go into their page or cross ship tags and comments on things or anything related to their ships before. And this is the first time I have spoken up and tried to defend Nika here on Tumblr. Because I'm the only one constantly making contents about her and love her as a character and the only person here on Tumblr who wants to talk about/express my love for her through my art for nearly three years.

And I can't speak up when they want to tools Nika and Respawn for their own ships and set them up as toxic made up characters in their head?!? And I should let that kind of blunt lies disguise as "playful! fun even!!" fanon and let it slip and damage Nika and Respawn's character!?!?? And let that MISOGYNY energy towards Nika fly into fanfic further misconception both of their character and personalities?!??? Similar things that had happened to Talia being constantly demonized through racism and misogyny by fanon?!?!?? A reappear theme by shipper/yaoi incest proshipper tools her as a bad Asian mom to make a sad and twisted background for Damian to need to be protected by the characters they ship him with?!??

Not all of the shippers/fic writers do this but still, I'm meant by the misconception fanons that spin out of control… then SOMETIMES THE ACTUAL COMICS WRITES(different ones/weird ones) WOULD MAKE IT CANON AND DAMAGE THE CHARACTERS‼️IT HAS HAPPENED BEFORE‼️‼️

I know the shippers and the fandom will always be there because of the internet. And I can't control it, so I set up boundaries now by speaking up and defend my favorite characters while I still can.

You can comment under this post if you still disagree with me(unless you're a proshipper then stop interacting with me‼️), and don't hide behind anonymity before you understand what I'm talking about and don't twist my words for your own comfort.

(Again, sorry if you are not in the dc fandom and catching strays of my discomfort and anger. But I love Nika too much so I had to speak in my page)

#flatline #nika #flatline dc #nika dc #respawn #respawn dc #robin 2021 #dc comics #sorry about another one vent post #sorry for not being a happy person and not posting art #how dare I speak right?#how dare I express my discomfort and set boundaries #about my favorite characters #and female characters #ask #vent post

25 notes · View notes

abeautylives · 2 years ago

Text

Imperfect Moments - Chapter One

a/n: This is my first intentional series, I hope you love it 🥹 I don’t have a posting schedule in mind but I do have several chapters already locked and loaded.

Series Masterlist

pairing: Jakexfemale!reader

word count: 1.4k this chapter

series summary: You’re in love with your best friend. His twin brother hates you. Or does he?

warnings: none this chapter aside from a little language

jake_gvf just posted a photo

The notification appears and you flick it away.

Jake’s updates are the rarest and yet they irritate you the most. Josh had convinced you to follow everyone in the band, to “keep up with us when we’re gone,” and you’d done it simply because he’d asked. On the off chance that he’s posted a picture including his twin, you decide to open the app.

So pretentious. Bitch, you’re not a pirate.

Lame.

You leave the comment, knowing he’ll never see it.

When your phone starts ringing in your hands, you can’t help but smile as your favorite picture of Josh’s face graces the screen.

“Joshua, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“You’ve really done it now, darling,” your heart rate picks up at the nickname, “Jake’s pissed.”

“Pissed about what?” You’re actually confused. You haven’t seen or even been in the same state as Jake in weeks. You rarely speak to him.

“Your little comment on his picture. Oh, he’s completely up in arms over it, throwing an actual tantrum! They call me the dramatic one.” Josh’s laughter is infectious and you join in happily, until what he’s saying sinks in.

“Wait, how did he even see that? He reads his own Instagram comments?” You didn’t think they took much control over that kind of thing, and you definitely didn’t think yours would stand out amongst the flood of fans drooling over him.

“Jacob takes his work on social media very seriously Y/N,” his tone is stern until a giggle comes over the line. He’s joking, but you’re chewing over your bottom lip, still concerned that your comment had even blipped on Jake’s radar.

“Y/N? You there?”

Shaken out of your contemplation, you fix a smile onto your lips that Josh can’t see. “Yeah! Sorry, sorry you have to deal with that. He’s so annoying.”

“No, this is great. I love it when you get under his skin, the entertainment is free. I do need to go though, just wanted to say thank you for making me laugh from afar.”

“Pleased to be of service,” you chuckle, proud of yourself for earning the praise of the older twin. “When do you get back?”

“Hmm, I think we’ll be home next week. Maybe Friday? I’ll let you know, we can go out!”

“Sounds good, I miss you already,” it slips out, but you mean it.

“We haven’t been gone that long! I’ve gotta go darling, talk soon!”

“Yeah, talk soon. Bye J-“

He’s already hung up.

You’re not sure why you’ve never clicked with Jake when it had been instant with his literal carbon copy, he’d immediately seemed to dislike you after your first meeting. You figure it’s probably because he’s too pretty for his own good and unfortunately, he knows it.

Josh is pretty like that too, unbelievably so, but it’s almost like he has no idea. You love that about him. You love everything about him. You might be in love with him.

He’s completely oblivious.

It’s hard to not develop a crush on Josh. You’re sure that anyone who’s ever interacted with him walks away a little bit in love, and you interact with him more than most but in over a year, he’s never given you the impression that he feels anything more than platonic affection for you.

Stupidly, that hasn’t stopped you from letting your world revolve around him.

Over a thousand miles away, reclined against the pillows of his claimed bed in the hotel room he’s currently sharing with his brother, Jake is staring at his phone. Fuming.

“What the fuck is her problem?”

“Who?” Josh can’t help but poke the bear.

“Your little friend, where does she get off calling me lame? Like she doesn’t know who the fuck I am.” Jake’s a humble guy, normally. Or at least he thinks he is.

“And who the fuck are you, Jake, hm? I quite enjoy that she doesn’t like you.”

“What you quite enjoy is that she only likes you. You love the attention, it’s sort of pathetic.” He doesn’t mean it, not really, but the friendship between you and his brother grates on his nerves in a way he won’t bother explaining. “You know she’s into you, right?”

“Y/N?! No, it’s not like that with us.”

“Josh, it’s not like that with you. She never leaves you alone. She likes you, it’s disturbingly obvious.”

“To who?” He seems genuinely surprised by this revelation, eyebrows raised high on his forehead.

“You’re an idiot,” Jake mutters it under his breath as he deletes your comment under his post and then promptly drops the conversation.

The following week, the guys got back into town on Friday, just as Josh had thought. And he had called you, just as he said he would. What he failed to do however, was tell you that all of his brothers would be joining you when he suggested you go out.

When you walked up to the table expecting to find Josh with his beaming smile and head full of curls, only to be met with three beaming smiles and one distinct sneer, the disappointment settled deep in your belly. Rather than allow it to show, you greeted them cheerily.

“Fancy seeing all of you here! How was Florida?”

They each stand to offer you a hug, Sam giving you a friendly kiss on the cheek before dragging Danny to the bar with him to order a round. When Josh wraps his arms around you, you return the gesture and hold onto him for longer than you should. You really did miss him, but your reunion is soured by the look of displeasure on Jake’s face. Unfortunately, it’s directed at you and your eyes have found his over Josh's shoulder. You maintain the eye contact as the embrace comes to an end.

“Jacob.”

“Y/N.”

“Well look at the two of you, it’s been thirty seconds and you haven’t cursed at or spit on each other yet!” Josh truly does find your distaste for one another entertaining, it’s puzzling to him but he enjoys trying to figure it out.

“The night is still young. I need a drink.” Jake finally stands and bumps your shoulder with his as he makes his way across the room where the others are waiting at the bar.

“I can’t believe you guys have the same DNA. He’s such an asshole,” you huff out as you rub the spot on your shoulder that Jake had touched. Josh simply laughs.

Most interactions you have with Jake end with you telling one of his brothers he’s an asshole. He’s never actually touched you though, not since the handshake you shared when you first met. His body’s contact with yours leaves you feeling off-balance and irritated, and you eventually call the night early after confirming with Josh that the two of you will get together soon.

Josh turns from you when you leave his side, sips his drink and keeps talking with Sam.

Jake watches your back until you’ve left the building.

The thing about Jake that no one knows, not even his twin, is that he’s jealous. Jealous of your easy friendship, envious of the attention you’re constantly showering his brother with.

When you’d been introduced he’d been pleased to finally meet you, but the sheer amount of time you spent with Josh quickly became excessive. While the world had literally shut down, he’d watched you cling to his brother in a time where contact with other people had become so limited.

The part that bothers him is that he envies what Josh refuses to realize is there. Josh doesn’t appreciate what you have to offer, and it makes him feel like he’s not allowed to. Not allowed to indulge in your presence, not allowed to admire you. So he’s gotten to know you from a distance, overhearing phone conversations and eavesdropping when you’re in their home. Occasionally he’ll join the two of you but keeps his communication with you scarce, or nonexistent.

Which is fine. He can handle that, except he’s seen what’s going on behind your eyes every time you let them linger on Josh’s face. He can feel it radiating from you if he gets too close. Somewhere along the way, you’d developed feelings for his brother.

And he wishes they had been for him.

Therefore, he acts like he can’t stand you. In turn, he knows you hate him because of it.

Taglist:

@lightmylove-gvf @spicedandicedtea @weneedsomehealing123 @milkgemini @why-ami-on-here

Please let me know if you’d like to be added ❤️

#greta van fleet #gvf #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet fan fiction #gvf fic #gvf fan fiction #josh kiskza #josh gvf #jake kiszka #jake gvf

192 notes · View notes

stevie-petey · 7 months ago

Note

hello your honour (m), me and my partner, val @southelroy would like to take this opportunity to defend our client, one steven marie harrington. we intend to prove, beyond reasonable doubt, that his behaviour and actions are born from a place of genuine trauma, that his intentions, while marred in teen angst, are clear, and finally, that his bearing is better than certain past, shall we say........bonds.......cough johnathan cough.

idk how longer i can keep this bit going, but seriously, guys c'mon cut the guy a break, all steve and bug have been doing since midway season 1 is drive their car to struggle citadel and pray at its pews. Also m this season is so crazy delicious i will get into singing your praises in a minute, after i prove my case with evidence. thank you.

firstly, i'd like to establish a baseline from which we can work upwards from. frankly, steve clears. he has been worshipping the ground bug walks on since the day he saw her, and he made clear his high regard of her the moment he got to develop some sort of friendship/relationship with him. even just taking these last three chapters, the amount of outward steve shows bug, completely unabashedly, is ridiculous. it was the most physical, outward admiration bug has gotten out of her peers, aka, the teen boys her age. I'd like to point to one moment in particular, "You exhale deeply, wrapping your arms around his body, and Steve nuzzles his face into your neck and presses a gentle kiss there.". This parallel to johnathan and bug ending their closeness at the end of season 2, as well as the phone call/car ride johnathan takes in season 3, posits steve as the new "love interest", the new What-if/maybe of bug's love life. However, his romantic intentions are much more straightforward than johnathan's ever were. The end of season 2, he very clearly stated that he wanted to, eventually, be in a relationship with bug, that he would need some time before it happened, and bug understood this, and agreed to it. This is drastically different from Not Talking About It for years on end. I would argue that bug herself knows, at least to some extent, steve's feelings for her. She certainly knows the care he feels for her, "You know he doesn’t want to scare you, that he’s always trying to make things easier for you, so you tilt your head at him and nod slightly; you want him to tell you." The ease with which they kiss each other's cheeks is an openness bug did not experience in season 1, especially when shit with nancy and johnathan started becoming #real #deep. there is a certainty that is present in these interactions that bug and johnathan did not have until they were literally doing a friend break up.

Now that we've established the evidence of steve's background, i'd like to move the jury to view evidence of motive, with your permission your honour (hi m <3). As stated in the opening statement, bug and steve are getting stamps on that struggle card like their featured on tlc classic, extreme couponing, and baby they are making cashback! Bug's daddy issues are well documented, as are steve's. In fact, they are so well established, that the defense would like to claim that throwing a gren@de at mr. harrington's car would be an all round net positive to society. We know that steve thinks highly of bug, including post spring summer of '85, and that while they have moved past it, o would argue that a fear of abandonment is not unfounded in the young man's mind, particularly when his own self image is currently being shredded by a medieval torture device known as mr. harrington. Steve is being beaten down, it sounds like quite frequently, "He hadn’t turned into who had expected to become, something that you know his father reminds him of every time he comes back from some business trip. ", and it's showing in his relationship(?) with bug, "Steve leans into your kisses and smiles at the praise, relieved that you don’t think he’s some idiot." We see this when he rants to robin in episdoe 1, he is an, ultimately, scared and insecure teen, who is getting requited affection for the first time in a long time, from a person whom he deeply respects, admires, and holds dear in his heart, and, unfortunately, was unable to maintain a relationship with him during the beginning of their friendship. I ask you, the court, were we not understanding of bug then? Could we not see the place where she came from? While we disagree with her actions, did we not see the ultimate place she was coming from? Surely we can extend that grace to mr. harrington.

I'd like to perhaps bring in a new angle, that steve and bug's tiff at the end of episode 3 is not their fault expressly. We know bug has a giant guilt complex that makes my religious background look carefree. We know she has a very real fear of having a relationship pass you, due to someone whose name rhymes with bonathan, and is perhaps more sensitive to being strung along than she otherwise would be. We know steve's battling daddy issues, a need to prove himself with a great opportunity right in his lap, and a fear of relationships changing because of someone noticing his inadequacy (very incheresting to me that he's relieved that bug doesn't think he's an idiot.........he's my unmedicated undiagnosed adhd baby.....we're twins in that sense. also in the sense that we like women :P), which could happen when they are in a full blown relationship. Him not knowing how to ask bug out is valid, he's on a new man journey of shedding his old self off, he feels like he's batting way out of his league (he is), and he has a girl who fell out of love with him on his scoreboard, and a girl who used to be in an intense codependent friendship with a boy who is now currently dating said ex. That is a situation to be in!

While me and my partner understand bug's frustrations and empathise fully, and make clear our support of her, we only ask the jury lay the blame not at our defendant steve's feet, but rather the circumstances that have brought them here. And if they really want a target, feel free to aim towards one johnathan byers and mr. harrington, local triple f, (flop failure father).

The defense would now like to play offence. Johnathan, what the hell are you even doing here???? Get out of our family's business! What in the good lord's name are you doing ringing up a girl's number in the dead of the night??? The one you were a hair's breadth away from dating if you hadn't strung her along for a marathon length of time at that???? And then venting YOUR relationship problems, the very relationship you strung her along for, about a girl you left her for!!! The audacity of mr byers!!! While we understand this to be an affront to Ms. Henderson, we posit this is an affront to Ms. Wheeler as well. We ask you, the jury, how comfortable YOU would feel if the guy you were dating, told HIS ex best friend-turned-complicated-situation-turned now friends with boundaries all about your relationship problems while driving around at night, a deeply date like activity? While you may posture and say "oh, well, if it's a girl like Bug!". Girls..... That would make it worse. AS IT SHOULD! We maintain this isn't bug's fault as it isn't her relationship to protect, but mr. byers!

Okay we rest our case.

M, I apologise for this stupid essay above, but omg omgo omg omgogkogmogmgomgm I am EATING!!!!! YOU ATE!!!!!! This was so crazy delivious yummy!!!! Love love love the way steve and bug are interacting, all the casual affection has me giggling and kicking my feet like they're everything hehehehe. All the cheek kisses are so so so cute and making me crave affection like a motherfucker. All the flirting vibes between them is driving me up the wall...."So you admit you're flirting with me?" BITCH! I MIGHT BE!!! I am cheesinggggg. I remember you said that season 4 is going to be stug struggle era and my stomach is in knots already becasue the brief glimpse of unhappiness they experienced at the end of episode 3 made me want to cut my heart out of my chest, you have made them too lovable i fear.

SPeaking of cutting my heart out of my chest, may i say, you served with robin. Like. The struggle of being a closeted person really hit well. Not to get heavy, but the crushing weight of it was so subtly put into robin, it got to me alot. "She hates that you’re purposely excluding her and taking Steve’s side in this. You wish you could tell her the truth." This genuinely is sooooo fvnnvbvknsnbfe. I want to shake her through the screen like girl do NOT fall for your friend whose attracted to boys that is NOT a situation that ends well and you will NOT leave unscathed!! It felt like a lot like high school, when its a big thing you have no one else to tell, and there's too much at stake to say it. and omg. this part, "When Robin sees his wink, she only clenches her jaw and turns away before releasing your hand.". Devestating. If I were robin, i would have had a crush on both bug and steve and witnessed carousel kissy face gate, it would have turned me into the joker, i would have no choice but to pull the nastiest stunt this small town has ever seen. I feel absolutely awful for her, and it makes me kinder to my younger self. Just, omg, really excellent work.

Apologies for the length of this, but just on a final note, i really wanted to say thank you for writing this great story. it's been a tough couple of years, and my brain has gotten worse on me and i really have a lot of trouble concentrating on anything, including things i enjoy, and your story is one of the few guaranteed things i know i can sit down for and fully because i know i will love every minute of it. Wishing you luck and love wherever you go and always rooting for you <3!!

u bringing up bug abandoning steve first ,,, oh ur so right and i WILL be addressing that (steve finally asks for the entire reason ,,,, trust)

and ur so right about how grim of a situation it is. steve and bug reflect the hurt nancy and jon gave onto them. steve is afraid of being lead on again and not being enough (nancy lied about loving him and he wasnt enough in the end). bug is afraid that love itself isnt enough, that theres more than just loving one another that goes into a relationship (jon loved her and yet in the end it wasnt enough).

both babies are hurt :((((

LEAVE JON ALONE THO MANS NEEDED TO VENT TO HIS BESTIE AND BUG WAS ENTIRELY OK WITH THIS !!! SHE NEEDED TO VENT AS WELL !!! (nancy wont be ok with it tho lmao)

and im happy everyone is loving robin <333 i have a cute and sweet scene planned between her and bug later that im so excited to share :')

the final part of your ask, im so so so happy my story means that much to you and i am sending you a million kisses my love <3333 im always rooting for you as well and youre such a sweetheart

#procrastinationprincesses #ask #m speaks #nyas insight #also some phrases in this made me GIGGLE #read it earlier just after waking up and i was delirious and happy

15 notes · View notes