#is this just nonsense is any of this anything

[stellardeer]

I feel like a lot of people in various reblog chains of this post have kinda lost the plot, so I'm reblogging this version to bring the emphasis back on the AI "detectors".

Whether something like Grammarly is considered AI or not is a little irrelevant, but most people consider using a spelling/grammar checker to not "count" as AI (despite the fact that you may be able to write out a bunch of nonsense and have Grammarly correct it over and over until it passes as a sentence)

And what a teacher will generally use an AI detector for is to check if the student wrote the paper or prompted an AI to give them a paper. As far as I know, Grammarly can't finish your entire document for you based on prompts (but I haven't used it so feel free to correct me) so I feel like a lot of the notes trying to argue whether it counts as AI or whether auto correct is useless now are just getting away from the point this point was supposed to be making:

You can't trust an AI detection software to accurately predict whether something was AI generated.

And part of the reason for that is that AI-detection software could ALSO be considered a form of AI. It is limited both by the dataset being fed to it to determine whether something is or isn't AI, and by any biases of the human who programmed it. If the programmer writes a program that says "look for anything that isn't perfect English and flag it as AI", they are showing that they don't trust anything written in broken English. I'm not sure why it might flag a word like "devoid", but if the AI detector is looking for patterns amongst known AI samples and the word "devoid" comes up a lot, it might just assume that any text using the word "devoid" has a higher chance of being AI generated.

Let's go back to the Both Of These Are Bad part.

It shouldn't need explaining why AI detectors falsely flagging ESL writers' works as AI is just bad and just contributing to systemic racism, so let's talk about the ways in which it can be harmful to native English speakers.

As stated above, it's interesting that an AI detector might flag words that seem "complex", while much of mainstream writing is trending towards simplification, for better or for worse. It could mean that since a lot of non-AI writing is so simplistic, anything that deviates from that is considered abnormal. Or it could, again, just be a programmed bias of the author of the program. I think this is more the point that thebibliosphere might have been trying to make, not that Grammarly specifically is evil AI that's making everyone write bad, but that a larger cultural shift to more simplistic language is happening and when things like Grammarly tell you to simplify your phrases or an AI detector tells you that your essay was AI generated because you used a big word, it's encouraging this simplification at a much faster rate than if human editors and teachers were directing their writers/students to do so.

Grammar software is perfectly optional for professionals, of course, but if a student is going to fail a class because their essay can't pass an AI detector, well, they can't really opt out of that. They have to change their wording to something that might not be as vibrant as what they originally wrote, or risk failing and potentially worse action depending on a school's plagiarism policies. It's essentially going to train kids to write in specific ways to get around it, and they might not understand why their paper was flagged or what AI even is yet, they're just going to assume that their writing was wrong and needs to be fixed. And let's not assume that only the kids writing their own essays are doing this, either. If kids can write a whole paper using AI and then change a couple of words so that it passes the detector, they're going to do that too!

Again, the point here is that the AI detectors are not infallible, often make racist assumptions, and cannot be the only method used to check whether something was AI generated.

I don't really have a good conclusion because I don't have the answer to this problem, because it goes beyond students in a classroom and you won't always get a document history to check. I just felt like this post was losing it's direction and I needed to clarify it for my own sanity.

[livwritessometimes]

At Least One Of Us Got Our Happy Ending

: Part 15 (Lando's Version)

: Spring Fling is finally here…that’s a good thing right?

: Prev | Next

: Series Masterlist

: Main Masterlist

: Author's Note - You can refer to Interesting *Cue Evil Laugh* to get the context for a certain part.

…

As Y/n and Lando watched Oscar pull his girl in for a kiss, she couldn't help but join some of their friends in hooting for the new couple. It was nice to see Oscar finally be with the girl he'd madly been head-over-heels for—Y/n could recall countless conversations they'd had about this. Smiling at the scene, she felt Lando pull her close to him, his hand resting on her waist.

"Should we get back to the table?" Asked Lando

Looking away from the scene in front of her, Y/n nodded at him and started leading him to their table.

There sat Max, one of Lando's friends who he constantly played games with, and his date.

Taking a seat, Y/n said, "It's so nice to see Oscar finally be happy."

"It is! I'm glad he came today," Lando said, looking at Oscar.

Max laughed to himself, leaning back against the chair he said, "I guess it's nice when things work out the way they're supposed to, huh?" He said, looking at Lando.

Lando narrowed his eyes at Max, "Max..." He said in a warning tone.

Confused by the exchange Y/n asked, "Wait, what's that supposed to mean?"

Max shrugged casually, taking a sip from the flask he had snuck in, "Oh, it's just funny how it all started you know? I just didn't think you guys would actually make it," Max finished.

Lando could feel his heart beating faster, "Max," He said again this time with hint of anger.

Y/n couldn't help but tense up, looking between Lando and Max. "What does he mean by 'How it started' Lando?" She asked.

"Oh nothing, you know how I am, I love to talk nonsense," Max said realizing that he might have said a little too much.

"Lando...What does he mean by that?" Y/n asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Lando sighed deeply, his mind racing as he tried to find the right words. He felt angry—angry at Max for opening his mouth when it was not needed, angry at himself for agreeing to do such a stupid thing.

"Y/n..." He started, his voice hesitant. Reaching out for her hand, he said, "It wasn't supposed to mean anything...I had no idea that I would actually fall in love..." He said. He could see the dread wash over Y/n's eyes.

*flashback*

*present*

Y/n felt her heart shatter into a million pieces. All hope and dreams for an amazing night disappeared in an instant. She sat there in silence as she let Lando's words sink in.

"So I was just a 'Dare'?" She asked, still in disbelief.

Lando avoided her gaze, his throat feeling dry. "I—I never imagined that it would turn into this," He said. "At first, it was just a stupid dare, I was just angry about the complaint, but I never thought that..." Lando's voice trailed off. He was not sure what he could say or do to make any of it sound better.

Y/n could feel her eyes sting with tears, "So does that mean all this time, every single conversation we've had, every single moment we've spent together...It was all just a game to you?" Y/n said as tears trickled down her face.

"No!," Lando said suddenly, a little too loud for his liking. He tried to reach out for her hand, but she pulled away, "I didn't mean for it to be like that. It was just a dare at the start, I admit, but the more time I spent with you, the more I realized that I just couldn't continue. I was going to tell you, I swear Y/n," Lando said. "I just didn't know how...." He trailed off again.

"So if you hadn't "fallen in love" with me, would you have still gone through with your plan?" Y/n asked, her voice a mixture of anger and hurt.

Lando opened his mouth but no words came out. He didn't have an answer. Deep down, he knew that no answer would make things right. The damage had already been done.

Y/n stood up abruptly, her chair scraping loudly against the floor. "Congrats!" She spat, her voice filled with bitterness. "You've won your stupid dare. I really hope it was worth it Lando," she said as she started walking towards the exit.

"Y/n please wait!" Lando pleaded.

"NO!" Y/n said, finally letting go of the emotions she had been holding onto till now. "Don't you dare follow me. You've lost the right to do that," she said, her voice cracking at the end.

And with that, she made her way out of the hall, taking Lando's heart with every step she took.

…

Tags: @regalbanshee | @be-your-coffee-pot | @mrsbrxkkxr | @princessria127 | @moonraysandstars | @prettiest-at-the-party | @theblueblub | @magixpracticality | @slytherinholland | @overlyexcitedoutlaw | @marvel-at-stucky | @crumbssss | @a-beaverhausen | @felicityforyou | @gigigreens | @jas0nluvr | @khaylin27 | @imsiriuslyreal | @cwiphswmwasohmm | @wobblymug | @e-nonsense | @raizelchrysanderoctavius | @papaya-twinks | @vintagefucksstuff | @st4rg1rln | @redstappen | @iamred-iamyellow | @tashisgf | @ghost-of-student-sufferings | @saachiep81 | @lozzamez3 | @ravisinghs-wife | @elizamoe133 | @anthonylockwoodandco111 | @formulaal | @luvsforme | @annabellelee | @a-disturbing-self-reflection | @emryb | @grovelingmen | @illicit-affcirs | @iwilleatyourgod | @youre-on-your-ownkid | @originaldreamerdragon | @landorris | @mountvesuvu | @chezmardybum | @littlegrapejuice | @spitesfvl-blog | @juleshadalittlelamb | @vicurious28 | @niyu2208 |

[tpwrtrmnky]

echo chamber (direct continuation from previous comic, read that first)

[ID: Five panel comic with crudely drawn stick people.

Panel 1: A turquoise person, a mauve person and a blue person are sitting at the end of a long table. Turquoise is visibly frustrated, slamming their fist into the table.

Turquoise: "Rrrgh I just don't get it!

Green people are getting so much visibility and representation in Garasu Isekai, but these æverthes are complaining anyway??"

Panel 2: A view of the table from a different angle, showing that the remaining people seated there are:

-A pink person -A grayscale-looking person in a yellow hat -A redish-orange person with a red hat -A purple person with an orange hat -A green person in a green outfit with a green hat.

Turquoise: "They're in an echo chamber, right? I mean, nobody here thinks there's anything chromophobic in the new episode, right?"

Red, quietly: "can we talk about any other issue, or…?"

Pink: "I think hating on media that portrays non-chromoformity is so cringe, honestly. I mean, have they considered some people actually look like that? You (indicating the green person) look like that, for example!"

Panel 3: Zoom in on the green one.

Green: "oh uh. haha. yeah. they're literally me. for real for real."

From off-panel: "Yeah see It's not all green people who are like that, some are chill instead."

Panel 4: Different angle of the table.

Turquoise: It's great that we have you here, honestly. You never complain about nonsense like "misoviridy exempt". In fact I've never heard you complain at all! Also, that hint of magenta you've got going? So chroma."

The green person remains silent.

Panel 5: View of green, who says: "Thank you for tolerating me despite other green people sucking so much. I'm not going to complain when you are all, uh, so nice to me. And. I'll keep advocating for you all. There's nothing wrong with that character looking that way. I look like that, and I feel represented."

End ID.]

Start - Previous - Next

[xinganhao]

svt burner accounts series. ୨ৎ

⤿ when their lives as an idol feel a little too much, there's always the internet to run to. welcome to the svt burner series— where the members are all just one account away from you.

𝕏 seungcheol & fanbase!reader

the one where seungcheol gets all most of his svt news from your no-nonsense fanbase.

𝕏 jeonghan & food blogger!reader

the one where jeonghan trusts your recommendations as a food blogger.

𝕏 joshua & craftsman!reader

the one where joshua subscribes to your crafting journey.

𝕏 junhui & drama fan!reader

the one where junhui runs a kdrama content account alongside you.

𝕏 soonyoung & choreographer!reader

the one where soonyoung provides unsolicited advice on your dance videos.

𝕏 wonwoo & streamer!reader

the one where wonwoo is pretty down bad for you, a popular streamer.

𝕏 jihoon & poetry account!reader

the one where jihoon reads all the poems you think he'll like.

𝕏 seokmin & meme page!reader

the one where seokmin follows you for the ‘positivity memes’ you post.

𝕏 mingyu & pop base admin!reader

the one where mingyu befriends you, the admin of twitter's biggest pop culture update account.

𝕏 minghao & artist!reader

the one where minghao is a silent supporter of your art account.

𝕏 seungkwan & stan!reader

the one where— unbeknownst to you— seungkwan is your mutual on stan twitter.

𝕏 vernon & cinephile!reader

the one where vernon gets just a little bit passionate in arguing with you over movies.

𝕏 chan & fansite!reader

the one where the (allegedly) chronically offline chan keeps up with you, his favorite fansite.

please anticipate slow updates, since this is really more of a silly passion project than anything! updates will not be posted in any particular order. all work under the series will be tagged under ── ᵎᵎ ✦ series: svt burner, and linked to this post + my pinned masterlist.

👤 Only people in @xinganhao’s Twitter Circle can see this Tweet. L͟e͟a͟r͟n͟ m͟o͟r͟e͟

🐦 What is happening?! ── #BONUS_CONTENT

wonwoo x streamer!reader headcanons

[runes-menagerie]

"Another time perhaps. When we have more supplies. Better for you to have it since it doesn't really do anything for me as far as I can tell." Astarion answered with a small smile. He appreciated the gesture and the thought behind it but he knew that in their current situation it was better if he didn't partake since his needs could be met other ways.

"Fair enough. I admit that I never had much occasion to cook so I have no idea how one goes about preparing a rabbit to be cooked and eaten." He admitted with a shrug, not feeling any shame for it, especially since he did have other skills that were just as useful.

After that he went to the river where he first striped out of his clothing so he could carefully clean it and see where he needed to mend things. He would likely spend some time that night with the small sewing kit he kept on him to mend all the little tears and pulled threads. For now he hung them from a nearby tree to dry before getting into the water himself.

A soft hiss left his lips since he was still able to feel the cold although he couldn't die from it. It wasn't comfortable however and it made him move more quickly than he normally would have.

"Probably for the best. You're likely to catch your death if you stay too long in this water." Astarion commented when the Tiefling joined him. He wasn't even thinking about his back, nor the fact that the other might be able to read it since as far as he knew he was some nonsensical poem his master had written. Soon enough he would leave the water and return to his things to apply a bit of the perfume he used to cover his undead scent.

Caligo took the wood first and made a quick stack which he lit with his hands. Holding his palms towards the wood and whispered something, fire sprung from his hands and the wood began to burn. Burning hands was a handy thing in their situation, or at least in his situation. Not sure if Astarion could feel cold like he did. He accepted the rabbit and grinned. “Nice, thanks. Want a piece too?” He looked at him. The Tiefling knew that he didn’t really need the food, but it felt better to ask anyway than to assume it was just for him.

“I might, but I’m going to clean this first. Haven’t done this in a while and could get messy… Better clean up when I’m done with this.” Which would take a little while, so both should have some time for themselves. He took out his dagger and went to work on the rabbit as proper as he could. He didn’t do a lot of skinning, but he wasn’t disgusted by it either.

After a while, Caligo had it cooking at the fire and did a little scan of the area before he wondered off to where Astarion washed himself. He undressed and got into the water, hissing when it was colder than expected. After their night of intimacy, they went back to a certain comfortable distance. Caligo wasn’t the clingy sort, unless he was unraveling by someone’s touch. “I’m going to make it quick, can’t have it burning to a crip.” He chuckled.

For a moment, he wanted to ask Astarion about his scars which were in infernal, but it didn’t felt like it was the right moment. So he didn’t.

[beardedjoel]

5k! wow! i can't believe there are so many of you here. granted, i've had this blog a long time so some followers may be a vestige from many years ago. i've gained so many since i started posted my writing here so i still wanted to celebrate any and all of you!

i reached this milestone right around the same time that i wanted to do something to celebrate one year of smother, so i figured let's smush them together into one fun party! thank you for being here and for all the love. i love you all and appreciate every interaction, every comment, and the friends i have made along the way!

to celebrate, let's fill my inbox! from 11/14 to 11/21, i'll be accepting asks for all the following prompts:

🌹 writing prompts — send me a prompt from these lists and i’ll write a fictlet: one | two. all will be written for joel miller since he's really the only character i feel super comfortable writing for. you may suggest one of my fic universes for it to take place in, and i will try my best to make it fit!

🌲 smother celebration — in honor of marking one year since i posted the story, ask me or share anything you want about it! headcanons/lore, director's commentary on a certain part/chapter, or even a tiny mini prompt for me to write a blurb for joel and blossom.

💌 ask me anything! send in an fmk, would you rather, or just shout some nonsense at me.

🍄 ask game — send in a question from this list! make sure to specify it's from the writer's ask game since some emojis may overlap with these ones!

🌸 moodboards — send in a vibe/color/scenario (or maybe even related to one of your fics if you give me a synopsis!) and pedro character and i'll make a mini moodboard for it!

many of these requests take time, especially the writing ones. i promise i will do my best to get to them even if it takes a while! it'll be a good test to see if i can write anything short for once in my life 🤪

tagging some people that i love and enjoy seeing around my dash ❤️ i’m so happy to have you here!

@huffle-punk @jupiter-soups @darling-reverie @tightjeansjavi @burntheedges @guiltyasdave @joelstummy @encasedinobsidian @perotovar @mermaidgirl30 @pedrospatch @cavillscurls @sawymredfox @evolnoomym @ovaryacted @moonlitbirdie @pedropeach @punkette1026 @strang3lov3 @wintrwinchestr @pattwtf @whxtedreams @taeslarityy @penvisions @romanarose @justagalwhowrites @dancingtotuyo @murder-wife @covetyou @mrsmando @yxtkiwiyxt @jolapeno @shaunasflannel @kedsandtubesocks @mountainsandmayhem @eupheme @joelsdagger @joelsgreenflannel @kiwisbell @hauntedhowlett @gasolinerainbowpuddles @futuraa-free @daydreamingmiller @jobean12-blog @skittlesfics @noxturnalnymph @chronically-ghosted @shivispunk @hotgirlbedtimescenarios

i tried to tag as many people as i could think of before i hit the post limit 💓

[monstermoviedean]

if you have a good vibe/kind thought to spare and could send it my way. i'd really appreciate it.

[blushweddinggowns]

Eddie hadn’t had Steve for a week and he was already terrified of losing him. Terrified enough to examine every preventative measure he could to make sure he wasn’t going anywhere. He didn’t know what that said about him, the sudden paranoia that came with the delight of being with him. Eddie wasn’t in the mood to examine it either, not when the rest of his time was dedicated to romancing the fuck out of his new boyfriend. 

He wasn’t sure if he was actually good at it, but Steve seemed to be enjoying his attempts. He wasn’t going crazy, but Eddie developed an appreciation for all the cute, romantic nonsense pretty damn quick. A hand on Steve’s thigh while they were driving, an arm over his shoulder whenever they were settled on the couch together, showering him in compliments, getting him shit, little things here and there. Stuff that Eddie used to walk by and think, Steve would like that, before promptly reminding himself that buying your gay best friend random gifts could be construed in the wrong way. 

Now that thought process was dead nothing was stopping Eddie from invading local embankments to hunt for the kind of wild flowers Steve liked, always willing and ready to risk falling into trenches if it meant getting him to smile.

It was a lot. Eddie knew he was being a lot but… he didn’t want to play it fast and loose with Steve. Not anymore. He didn’t want any more confusion, anymore doubt. Even if it meant slapping Steve in the face with affection. It didn’t matter, not when he was eating it the fuck up. Running around all happy and adorable for the entire day when Eddie did anything sweet. 

Eddie was in the exact same frame of mind, living on cloud nine ever since he stopped the shitshow. It had taken less than a week for him to admit to himself that he was addicted to the man’s mouth. Just one more vice to add to the massive pile when it came to Steve. But his lips had driven him insane. 

He tried to be normal about it, to keep things light and romantic when he’d kiss him. Especially since he was still waiting for that fucking call.  But Eddie could never keep it chaste. It could be as simple as a sweet peck in the morning before Steve went to work. Eddie would try to keep it normal, casual and quick. Then Steve would do something, a small sigh, a little blush, a breathy laugh. And Eddie would just break. 

from the next chapter of this fic

[spookygibberish]

re. fetishization i was referring to something that happened in universe. A piece of political literature was written about a kind of dagnyd which controls the body of another dagnyd, this arrangement is common and exists as a means of disenfranchising dagnyd types that are seen as too powerful to be safely given full bodily autonomy. A monk wrote a book with one of these pilot dagnyds as a protagonist, and a book club comprised of insane detached rich people got really weird about it and entirely missed the point. The point being "it's fucked up we treat these guys as disposable" and the takeaway ending up as "oh the tragedy, the love above love, the devotion that stops the rivers' flow" etc. Using fetishized less "sexual fetish". This cannot be discounted, but it would be incorrect to attribute it as the sole motivator for what ended up a romantic literary movement gone about as far off the shits as possible, but also people don't know the extensive made up historical basis for my extensive made up nonsense so it's like. an understand mistake.

if people are horny for thrones as designs and throning as a process this doesn't bother me tbh. it's not one my own fucked up pet fetishes but I have 0 judgement tbh.

I just wanted to get that out of the way first since it's the only thing that's a misunderstanding.

It's interesting to think about alternative ways to handle the same premise. I don't think if you want to do something with a critical message (although I don't think it's really accurate to say JOM is something with a message.. perhaps a Thesis but definitely no moral), anything that resorts to depicting the criticized party as ontologically evil is doomed to fail, not even really just because there's no such thing, but as an extension of that there's no room for understanding or action beyond the simplest measure of "destroy it". Thrones are an oppressive cultural institution, Headless are exploited, but to say that this exists as is just because humans are greedy and selfish and always do the wrong thing feels so flat and devoid of any understanding of the emotional core that lead such a thing to happen in the first place.

It also occurs to me that in a way, making headless utterly whipped and oppressed would also kind of nullify an aspect of Dagnyds that I'm interested in exploring with them just as much as any more "functional" model, which is the relationship one has with being a tool with a preordained purpose. The hammer had no choice in being a hammer, but does that not preclude his ever taking pleasure in coming down upon the nail?

Your thrones are absolutely top-tier . It may or may not be intentional, but I love the way the concept deconstructs the "dragon rider" trope by recontextualizing the relationship between "dragon" and "rider" as this ersatz arranged marriage that's been cooked up as a power-consolidation structure for royalty and oligarchs.

No high-soaring metaphors for nascent individuation newfound personal freedom for you! You get permanently anchored to a literal political monster!

You. You understand.

This is 100% intentional and a significant, foundational goal of the setting, particularly with Jacanti, is to deeply overthink and pick apart "mons" and "bond creatures".

It's also a part of why I'm hesitant about people finding wish fulfilment in Thrones. I can't control how anyone chooses to engage with my work, and they're objectively sick as hell, but the in universe reason they exist is the entitlement of wealthy merchants and and oligarchs towards the bodies of a genetically engineered laborer underclass as a deep deep deep misinterpretation of a work designed to generate sympathy and solidarity but instead fostered.. fetishization more or less.

Thinking about bond creatures in particular it's sort of a genre based entirely on wish fulfilment. What if a horse was a big lizard and my best friend and loved me in particular with no stipulations. The defacto ownership (but not really, because it loves you and wouldn't have it any other way) of this intelligent being is, like you point out, something that's associated with the autonomy and freedom of the person who gains control over the creature (Eragon leaps to mind but that's one of many examples, and Eragon is just Pern fanfiction really (I do love pern.... flawed ass series)), but the creature itself leads an existence dedicated to the whims of the person it imprints on, they're destined to be half-creatures.

I think it's a setup worth picking apart and critiquing, especially since it has so so so many unpleasant caveats and snarls it can run into so easily, and that sort of stuff is just catnip for me. I think leaving an ethically complex situation at "it's fine if everyone's happy and everyones happy because thats how its supposed to be" is both naive and also incurious, if I'm honest.

[songbird-and-her-fos]

Dance Lessons

Emmrich/F!Rook

Emmrich likes to indulge in the finer arts, including dance, and wants to share this with Rook. Sadly, Rook has little confidence in her dancing abilities

-

A quiet day at the Lighthouse. Lyrei “Rook” Ingellvar didn’t know what drew her to the small hidden room with the big piano, but she found herself there nonetheless. There were so many more enjoyable things she could spend her time with, she told herself, so why come here? Perhaps it was the instrument itself that attracted her to this seldom visited corner of the Lighthouse; Rook loved music, though she had never had the opportunity to learn to play. So her fingers only lightly grazed the ivories, never truly pressing any of them hard enough to produce a sound.

She missed music. Be it the lengthy elegies written for funerals back in Nevarra or lively drinking songs filling the air of taverns; she hadn’t heard any of that in way too long a time.

Hadn’t Bellara discovered an ancient Elven music box not too long ago? Just as Rook resolved to ask about it soon, someone entered the room.

“So this is where you’ve been hiding, dearest. I’ve been looking for you.”

She turned around, her face lighting up with a smile. “Emmrich.”

He held up the artifact in his hands. “I asked Bellara if she would let us borrow her music box; there’s something I want us to try with it.” He placed it on a nearby table. “I had at first considered trying to teach Manfred how to play the piano for us; he was very interested, but I think he needs to focus on his magic training for the time being.”

“Now you’re making me curious”, Rook said cheerfully. “Don’t keep me in suspense like that!”

“My darling, have you ever tried dancing?”

Rook bit her lip. “I haven’t. I’m not sure I would be any good at it, to be honest.”

Emmrich stretched out his arms to pull her against him. “Nonsense. I see how you move in battle; you are a born dancer if I’ve ever seen one.”

Her eyes flitted about the room, for the first time trying to look at anything but him. “I don’t want to embarrass myself; especially not in front of you.”

Emmrich leaned forward and kissed her. “I would never judge you, you know that. Come, we'll start with a simple waltz. Without music, so you can get a feeling for the steps first.”

Rook hesitated for a moment, but found herself unable to say no to him. Not when he was so excited at the prospect of dancing with her. “...Okay, but I take no responsibility for any damage done to your toes.”

“Marvelous! It's easy, really.” He placed one hand on her waist and took hers with the other. “Start by taking a step forward with your left foot, then a sideways step with your right foot…”

This “simple waltz” felt anything but simple at first. She executed the steps just as Emmrich instructed, but kept losing the rhythm and felt her face heat up every time she stumbled. Just when she was about to ask if it was time to stop, Emmrich paused.

“Rook, my dearest, you are way too stiff. Relax. Don’t worry too much about executing every step perfectly. Just focus on me.”

Rook took another deep breath. “Focus on you. Okay. I can do that.” She concentrated on his eyes, gentle and loving as ever. No trace of judgement or annoyance. He moved, and she followed, her mind easing to a pleasant emptiness that left space for the two of them, and nothing else. She barely noticed when his hand slightly moved and the music box began playing. It was an ancient Elven song, a far cry from modern ballroom music, but it still flowed into their movements like a guiding breeze. That was her entire world in this moment; music and movement… and Emmrich, smiling at her as if she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

“I knew you could do it.” Delight lit up his eyes.

“What can I say? I have an excellent teacher.”

Step by step, they twirled through the room, allowing themselves to get lost in the moment. One, two, three…

Emmrich’s hoarse chuckle slightly pulled her from her thoughts. “You are absolutely beautiful. I can’t believe how lucky I am to have you.”

The corners of her mouth twitched upwards. “Says the stunning man in front of me.”

He laughed, and her heart did a little flip.

The song slowly fizzled out, and with a final spin, Emmrich, kissed her and then rested his forehead against hers. “I love you.”

“And I love you. And… thank you for teaching me how to dance. Maybe we can do this more often?”

“Whenever you like, my dearest.”

[antianakin]

Literally why the fuck would a clone consider their helmet to be their "real face"?

They only JUST started being allowed to paint their helmets with individual designs after the war began, none of the clones who show up to Geonosis have anything that looks particularly unique (there's a few clones with different colored paint, presumably to denote rank of some sort, but the design is always the same even if the color isn't). So if they DID start thinking of the helmets as their "real face," it would be a pretty new thing for them and not one with a ton of history behind it.

And even after the war starts, it's ONLY once you leave Kamino that you get to have a helmet or armor with any kind of personalized design, the uniforms we see the Domino and Bravo squads wearing aren't personalized at all (again, there's color differences in order to denote which squad you're a part of, but nothing personalized to the actual clone themselves). So they wouldn't exactly have any sort of tradition of feeling like their helmet is their "real face" since most of the time, their helmets are intended to look just as identical as their regular faces.

Also, the clones would still primarily only have a "real face" later in life, so what does that say about how much time they spend without a helmet with a design? We know they take on their own NAMES before they leave Kamino, so it's not like they don't have identities, they just don't have a "face." They don't even get given a "real face" upon graduating and getting assigned somewhere, they have to wait until they're not "shinies" anymore before they get more personalized paint jobs. If the helmet were really their "face," it seems more likely that they'd want to let the new soldiers paint it as soon as possible instead of making them EARN the right to an identity. It just feels so nonsensical.

We also see the clones taking their helmets off pretty often, certainly any time they're not actively in danger or on a mission, and sometimes even then just to make communication with someone else easier (especially if that person ISN'T wearing armor, like the Jedi). Aside from one moment in the pilot episode with Yoda and the three clones with him (which would fall under the category of still being in danger and on a mission), we never see the clones reluctant to take off their helmets or having to be asked to take them off when interacting with others. That moment also emphasizes for the clones that their armor ISN'T who they are, and that their humanity is something inside of them, but that they shouldn't feel the need to hide their faces simply because they're identical to someone else's. And if we assume most Jedi probably had similar moments with their own battalions, a LOT of clones would likely end up actually learning NOT to associate their identity with their armor and be much more comfortable with their faces showing.

In fact, there's a whole DIFFERENT moment a few seasons later where Rex is speaking to Krell and he takes his helmet OFF to emphasize his point about the clones being men, indicating that the helmet actually makes them more FACELESS and therefore easier to see as closer to machines/droids than real people. It's the face UNDERNEATH the helmet that makes them human, not the helmet itself. They might all share the same face, but that face is the one that shows emotion, that can cry, that can smile, that can speak, that can connect with someone else. Regardless of how many other people share it, that's still their real face, not the cold emotionless helmet that too often gets used to pretend the clones aren't people at all.

[angelbarelywrites]

♡ slashers scenarios | may i have this dance?

♡ fandoms; Halloween, Texas Chainsaw Massacre (original + 2006), House of Wax, The Boy, Dead by Daylight, slashers (general)

♡ characters; Micheal Myers, Thomas Hewitt, Bubba Sawyer, Vincent Sinclair, Brahms Heelshire

♡ reader; gender neutral

♡cw; none really!!

♡notes; this popped into my brain the other day and i thought we were due for some fluff. i’m writing part two congruently so that’ll be posted soon too!!

•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•

Micheal Myers

> Micheal Myers does not dance

> He doesn’t know how, and he doesn’t want to learn

> But like with a lot of things, you get him to bend his rules

> He has a habit of looming in doorways to watch you

> At first it’s disconcerting, but you learn it’s just how he is

> So you pay him no mind as he’s watching you dance around the kitchen to some song that’s too popular for him to know

> Sweet and silly and carefree…

> He clicks the speaker off with a quiet huff

> “Hey, I was listening to that-“ You pout

> He rolls his eyes and puts on something a bit more to his taste

> And before you can playfully complain any more, he wraps his arms around you from behind and sways softly

> It takes a second for you to process it- he’s not normally so…gentle

> But in his own weird little way, he’s dancing with you

> He tenses a bit when you turn around- he’s embarrassed but would never admit it- but when you kiss his cheek he relaxes and gives a quiet hum

>And he keeps swaying as you lay your head on his chest

>Just for you, as long as you don’t tell anyone…Micheal Myers does dance. Just a little.

Thomas Hewitt

> Thomas doesn’t think about dancing

> He’s seen it on TV, read about it in books…but the Hewitts aren’t really the dancing types

> Nearest thing to dancing that he can think of ever doing is being held by his mama, when she’d sing and rock him when he was hurt or upset

> And it’s been a long time since anyone could hold him like that

> But one day you’re upset- he doesn’t know why but you burst into tears the moment he walked in, and it has him in a tizzy

> He quickly scoops you up, checking for any injuries but…nothing. You’re just crying and he hates seeing you like that

> So he does what used to make him feel better

> He can’t sing- or at least won’t, his words are always few and far between- but he hums, low and rumbling in his chest

> As he holds you and slowly sways you start to calm down

> You sniffle and all of the sudden giggle

> “Thomas Hewitt; are you dancin’ with me right now?”

> He looks confused but slowly nods as he thinks about it

> “Well thank you. I needed this.”

> He nuzzles you and continues until you’re calm- and far after that if you’ll let him

Bubba Sawyer

> As we know, Bubba is a very sheltered fellow, but he does like dancing!

> He’s not particularly coordinated but he doesn’t need much coaxing to twirl you around and around

> He’ll dance without music, humming a nonsense tune to you, maybe even whistling

> And if you sing to him he can’t help grinning and giggling

> It’s not uncommon for him to sway and spin with you in the living room if the radio got left on

> And he gets shy when you’re caught by one of his brothers

> “Bubba you stop wasting time, you little—“

> You cock your hip and give Drayton a cold look

> “Oh, I’m a waste of time now, cook?”

> Like always a smart remark goes a long way with Drayton, the twins immediately “oooh”ing and teasing him as he flusters

> Soon enough he’s chasing them out cursing and wielding a pair of tongs

> Leaving you and Bubba forgotten and free to sneak off and continue your fun in peace

Vincent Sinclair

> You’d have to ask

> Probably more than once, honestly

> Vincent is an artistic man, that’s not a doubt in the slightest- but he’s not even a little interested in anything that involves performance

> But you have a way of getting your way with him

> “Vince baby?”

> “…”

> “Pretty please?”

> “…”

> “If we take pictures then you can paint us.”

> He perks up a bit and you know you’ve got him

> “Cmon silly!” You drag him into the house of Wax, camcorder in hand

> Having gotten that far, you finally realize you don’t particularly know how to dance either, not really

> But you don’t tell him that, instead turning on the music and pulling him against you

> You’re clumsy and awkward and adorable as you spin around with him, not even a bit embarrassed

> He isn’t sure the reference stills are usable, but he’s more than happy the sweet moment on camera

Brahms Heelshire

> Brahms treats you like royalty- whatever you want is yours

> So if you say you’d like to go dancing, he is more than happy to arrange something

> Though of course, he doesn’t like leaving home… no matter. There’s plenty of room in the manor

> He makes a date out of it- he’s prone to making dates out of lots of silly things

> Silly or not, it’s sweet, and as always you fawn over him and praise him for the thoughtfulness

> He even bought you a cute outfit for the occasion - he loves dolling you up (pun slightly intended)

> After setting the music he bows and offers his hand- being a rich brat he knows a bit of ballroom dancing

> He’s more than happy to teach you, humming “1-2-3” with your steps

> But he’s laughing and giggling and just can’t stop gushing over how cute you are

> So if you fall into slow dancing like it’s the prom, he doesn’t mind

> Any dance with you is more than he can ask for

[zigrethsnotebook]

[INVERTED KISS]

Bill x Reader

words: 864

tags: sfw, Bill developed a crush on you and hates it

a/n: sort of a continuation of [FOOT KISS] but not really important

“Sparky~!” The demon called out the pet name he had chosen for you and your stomach dropped. This couldn’t be anything good. Bill appeared in front of you, his body shrinking to a smaller version of him, smaller than you even. You furrowed your brows in confusion - he’d never done that before.

“All my maniacs are out for the next couple of hours, so we’re all alone… do you know what that means?” You shook your head ‘no’. His tone was more playful than usual, he seemed to be in a good mood. Still, it was hard to agree with him that you were ‘alone’ considering the literal mountain of people behind him he had sculpted into a throne.

“Hmm…,” he pretended to be thinking, tapping his index finger to where a chin might be. “Well, I’ve been browsing through your mind while you were sleeping-” Oh, god. He can do that? Your blood ran cold at the thought. “-and I saw that you were really into this spider-man guy when his movies came out.”

Your eyes widened. If he knew that then he also knew how much you were afraid of spiders - the animal. Internally, you begged that he wouldn’t cover you in spiders or something like that, just to laugh at you. His one eye never left your face, always scanning for every little reaction to his words. He knew exactly what he was doing.

“Either way, I decided we should recreate that scene you daydreamed about so often! Wouldn’t that be fun?” Before you could protest or even process his words, he had already snapped his fingers, conjuring two new chains that wrapped around your ankles and lifted you up into the air. A yelp escaped your lips at the sudden movement and you heard Bill chuckle.

Once your body had settled in the air you realized what he was suggesting. “Wait. The kiss?” The demon flew up to your face, locking eyes with you. “Was there a different scene you daydreamed about? Maybe I should take another look…” He floated a little closer and you gasped. “No!” Bill chuckled, floating backwards a couple of inches. “Yeah, I’m just messing with ya, Sparky.”

You sighed in relief, already feeling a little feeble form hanging upside down. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m still going to kiss ya.” “What? Why?” And exactly how was he planning to do that without a mouth? “Because! You humans! Are always going on and on about kissing and being in love and all that nonsense. And I… I want to know what I’m rejecting.”

He… frowned? Bill seemed disheartened somehow. Was he serious? “Why me?” The words left your lips before you could think better of it. He locked eyes with you again. “Because you’re the only human who’s any fun to be around,” he admitted in a quieter tone. A blush formed on your cheeks. Must be because you’ve been hanging upside down for so long, with all your blood running to your head, you decided.

“So I… I mean it’s not like I care what you want or don’t want or whatever,” he argued, clearly trying to come to terms with wanting this himself. “But, like… can I?” His voice was so quiet, you almost didn’t catch it over the sound of your ears buzzing. This time there was no denying why you were blushing. How were you falling for him? He’s a demon!!

“Yes.” You breathed the word but Bill’s eye widened immediately. He floated closer to you again, his eye turning into a mouth in a horrific transformation that would surely come back to haunt you. When it had fully transformed, aside from his eyelashes that were still attached to his lips (which would surely make this even weirder) he began closing the gap between you two.

Bill’s eyelashes-turned-beard(?) lightly grazed your lips causing you to gasp. His little bowtie was touching the tip of your nose. It was so much weirder than you’d thought it would be. But, if only for the sake of not passing out from hanging upside down, you also wanted this to be over as quickly as possible.

His hands were surprisingly soft against your jaw as he guided your face towards his. When your lips met you felt a tingling sensation in them, and you didn’t care to find out whether you were imagining it or he was doing that on purpose.

You sighed into the kiss. Against your better judgment, you were enjoying this. It was a nice change of pace from the chaos that surrounded you every day. Right now, it was only your lips against his, with fine hairs tickling your chin and too much blood in your head to think straight.

When Bill broke the kiss you kept your eyes closed a second longer, so you wouldn’t have to see the transformation again, and totally not because the kiss had left you slightly dizzy.

Without another word he slowly and carefully brought you back on the ground, right side up and all. The chains on your ankles vanished and so did Bill. You didn’t see him again for the rest of the day.

[discoidal]

baby birds chapter 3 part 3

(prev)

plain text under cut

I start taping cloth over my chest. Old t-shirts folded into rectangles to soak up the discharge, replaced every four or five hours. Handwashed in the bathroom sink, dried wherever. I start religiously locking my door behind me, coming in or out. Possibly my mother is hurt by the sudden lack of trust, if she’s even noticed, but all that matters less than her thinking her beloved daughter’s a fucking junkie or something.

I’m unhappy. Quite possibly I’ve been unhappy all this time.

On lighter notes, the gasoline doesn’t seem to hurt me. On my skin for hours as it is, it should be burning me, I think. I should be bad, or worse. But I’m fine. Just lightheaded. I keep seeing flashes of yellow and blue and green behind me; and nothing there when I turn! As ever. Maybe the gasoline isn’t hurting my skin, but addling my mental state. Or something.

Have I been unhappy? This whole time?

My chest hurts all the time now. Every drip from my cracked raw nipples hurts, dull but constant, until it builds up to a scream I can’t let out.

I’ve completely ceased making art. Or doing anything. Best I can do is lay on my back in my bed—any position other than what a corpse would have hurts beyond belief—and think. In circles. Never getting to the meat of the thought. An island of repression and distraction and looking away, instinctually. As if the light would hurt, if I did turn around and see it standing still, waiting for me. But I can’t stop turning, and it can’t stop darting away.

I’m talking nonsense. I’m tired all the time.

Goodnight.

[ghostymarni]

can we consider that during intense life events, the effect it has on shifting life choices + reasons behind it? character trauma is WILD

just some personal rambling below the cut; venting somewhere for my peace of mind.

[warning heavy life shit]

After my husband passed, I’ve basically been coping sober the last 5 months. It’s to the day today.

From enjoying life on a high, to drop kicking my survival into sobriety. Not that it was bad, it was controlled enjoyment. Knowing that since I’ve dropped weight from grief, alcohol is neither a smart choice nor does it help with digestion which back tracks fitness progress; I also choose to never relapse my 20’s drinking habits.

I’ve almost become extremely wary of doing anything because I refuse to give chance to any potential to lose my career, kid, home, or peace of mind. I’ve shifted back into high caffeine intake but since getting sick I’ve had to go from 3-6 cups of caf to no more than 3 a day. Fitness is on hold until my cough goes away. But with end of the year work overtime, no help, and survival single parent widow perseverance, it is taking its toll on me. I can’t stop, I have no one to fall back on. My eyes now have undertones of bruise discoloration from it all.

I’m taking a break from other social to be more on tumblr again because here brings me more peace of mind. Ya’ll being yourselves have been a beacon of light in all of this. So if you’re reading this, thank you. I push and look forward to the friends I’ve made on here and the chaos and laughs that bring extra serotonin to my world.

I don’t share for sympathy not one bit. Just pure venting to share what’s actually going on with me. Sharing somewhere I know has actual people wanting to interact and care. Even if it’s just a virtual hug, it’s more than I can ask for. I purely enjoy being here and I just want to be treated without the cloud of people I know in person’s judgment for coping how I need to or how I make my own life choices for my kid and I. Which feels ironic that no one gave a shit before, but since his passing everyone now has a say or opinion.

Deep breath. I’ve got additional real world shit I’m trying not to let bring me down. I need to remind myself I’m capable and I’m doing more than I have ever processed in my life. I wouldn’t be okay without the bad batch, without the clones, without my friends here. [also mega shout out to Lupe for being the sweetest person ever and for listening to my constant nonsense <3 ]

I personally find the clones and their loss in a sense comforting, more so relatable because of my own loss. Regardless of fictionality, that they live to fight another day. They keep pushing, they keep fighting. Because that’s exactly what I need right now. You guys are my brothers in that retrospect. No pressure no responsibility just support and happiness.

You’re still here?

Hey 😏

[phantomyre]

The array of bright colors were in stark contrast to Vincent's disparaging expression. There was no escaping this situation. As stubborn as Vincent was, he would have to allow this equally stubborn pilot to put him into an uncomfortable situation. Perhaps his past self would have appreciated it, but he was so far removed from society that Vincent wasn't aware of how awkward he looked or acted. But did he care? Not one bit. Not even the rude stares from the tourists made him introspective. As he scanned the articles of clothing, he could practically sense Cid's eyes landing on the most risqué pair of speedos in the whole store. What was going through Cid's mind? Those scheming pair of ocean blue eyes were all too obvious. Such a pervert. "Not in the slightest," Vincent responded flatly, his arms tight across his chest, almost embarrassed to even look at the speedos again. Thankfully, Cid relinquished and chose to go for the shorts. It was an opportunity and he had to take it. With a short sigh, Vincent unfolded his arms and sorted through the shorts begrudgingly. In hardly any time flat, he found a pair of very simple black shorts that reached down to his knees. At the most, it had some bright red and blue vertical thin stripes that decorated the hips. He didn't wait on Cid and walked over to the shirt section to look for something simple. Much to Vincent's chagrin, they didn't have any black tank tops with long sleeves. So he settled for a plain white tank top that had no designs on it. It seemed rather large, but he hadn't shopped for clothes in so many years, plus the sizing system had changed. He wasn't exactly sure what he was doing, but he wasn't about to ask for assistance, either. He just wanted to get this shopping nonsense over with. Vincent then returned to Cid to see if he had picked anything for himself. "Here," he finally held up the small 'outfit' he had put together, showing Cid he had done the bare minimum. "I'm not putting them on till afterwards." He didn't care to try them on to see if they'd fit. But would that prove to be a mistake?

| for @phantomyre-vincent-valentine |

Cid couldn't proper recall the last time he'd had a stopover long enough for relaxation, especially not since meeting Aerith and the whole merry band of misfits. But now here they were in Costa del Sol, probably the world's hottest vacation destination, with free time on their hands. The others were just as eager to take advantage, splitting off in pairs or trios until Cid was left standing near the docks with only Vincent. Not company he much minded, truth be told, though a place like this didn't seem the other man's speed.

Still, Cid wanted to enjoy as much as possible while they were here. And besides, from what he'd seen, Vincent could use some loosening up.

"Looks like it's you 'n me." He patted the other's shoulder, then dropped his hand to Vincent's elbow for a coaxing tug, his grin broad and a little lopsided. "C'mon! If we're gonna be out in the sun, might as well be seein' some sights."