#ps any hate added to this WILL BE BLOCKED no warning or anything

[inkydragonlord]

Look AI as a *tool* or as something to *help* people make their own artworks is fine. I don't think anyone has a problem with it being a *tool*. Heck if it makes humans *making* the art easier (as in helps enrich their drawing skills/ helps overcome aphantasia, etc.), ex: like how digital models and art programs can help with visualising an idea or providing a neutral base to build the work on top of (even then you need to check copyrights!) that's awesome! Heck yeah for more human artists and human made art!

What really is the problem is the database for the AI being trained on other real human artists' works without consent or any permission of sorts, comparing it to being "getting inspired" (buddy you call it artificial intelligence for a reason....being inspired takes actual human/nature made intelligence plus comes from a place of empathy), pitting man against machine, straight up using it to insult (and harass) human artists, using it to replace artists for better profit margins/ devaluing artists as a whole, etc. just straight up not contributing to a constructive creative movement, the removal of empathy & emotions from creation....

Yeah. That's what makes people angry. It's essentially telling humans that what makes them human can be replicated by a machine (that wouldn't even exist without the actual human creatives in the first place) and that the innate joy of creating and consuming the joy of human made creations is worthless both emotionally and monetary.

It's really really sad!

And it really flips the phrase "Make art not war" onto its head.

It's even more sad reading about how in the late 1800s and 1900s people were hoping that automation comes by fast in the future for delegating work and tasks so they have TIME TO MAKE ART AND MUSIC! What a wonderful hopeful time that was!

To think the present has failed those of the past with automating creativity instead, the very thing they, the humans, longed for to do...

I'm just hoping the hellscape and demise of human nature is still far out into the realms of science fiction for now and that the voice of the creatives and their actions will be heard and *respected* so that art is still accessible for all but also *ethical/moral for all* (except the people trying to make a quick buck/ bent on stomping out & on other people because apparently no amount of ethics can save them from their fate 🙄)

To all my creatives out there: Please don't stop creating. Ever. For the sake of yourself, for your loved ones and for the world.

[twokinkybeans]

The Arachnoids: ROCK BAND AU [Starker] - Chapter 8: FADING FACADE

READ “CHAPTER 8: FADING FACADE” ON AO3

Find the masterpost with all the chapters linked here!

Taglist: @crystallinecrimsonmoth​​​​​​ & @staticwhispersinthedark​​​​​​ (Let me know if you want to be added!)

Note/warnings:  PS: A quick trigger warning: There will be a panic/anxiety attack and anxiety-related problems will be discussed, including meds and drug allergies.

-

Chapter 8: Fading Facade (Tony’s POV)

“Everything,” Tony hears himself whisper. “Everything’s wrong.”

The second the words fall from his lips Tony knows he should’ve kept quiet. He’s never lost control like this before. Not with anyone around, that is. His chest tightens. He can’t breathe. He can’t speak. Tony lets himself sink onto the edge of the double bed and presses his palms into his thighs. He’s very aware of the signals his body gives off but there’s nothing he can do to stop it. Not with this damned mantra flickering in the back of his mind.

You fucked up. You fucked up. You fucked up.

“Tony?” Peter’s voice pierces through the cloudy thoughts. Tony looks up warily and finds a pair of worried, deep-brown eyes searching his face. “Hey…” “I’m alright,” Tony chokes out. “Let’s just sleep.” “I… Don’t you wanna talk about it?” “No.” He can keep his facade up for a little while longer. He has to. ‘Cause if he doesn’t, who knows what might become of him?

Tony, honest to God, doesn’t know what to do. All these years and no one had ever found out about Morgan before. No one has seen the many videos on his phone filled with the girl’s sweet giggles and her never-ending stream of questions. No one’s seen her eyes sparkle with curiosity whenever she explores something new. He still remembers what it feels like to hold her small body in his arms. Always squirmy, the little queen.  But now, Peter has seen a picture of her. Tony ponders not telling a thing. But what if that leads to Peter asking other people about it? That’d be the true disaster. Then, everyone would know.

“The kid in the picture,” he whispers quietly. Peter’s head perks up. “That’s Morgan. Eh, my daughter.” “You have a daughter?!” Peter exclaims in surprise, his eyes wide and shocked. The boy quickly realizes what he’s doing and he lowers the volume of his voice. “How…?” Even now, Tony’s snarky comebacks get the better of him. Especially now. “I’m pretty sure you know how children are conceived, space boy,” Tony says, voice still painfully fragile. Peter huffs quietly.

“I mean… Does anyone know? Like-” The boy stutters, clearly trying to find the right words to not upset him. “-I’ve never heard of this before.” “Yeah. That’s the way it should be.” “Why?” “I don’t want her to grow up, not knowing who she can or cannot trust, simply ‘cause of her father’s fame.” Peter seems to contemplate that for a second, and somehow, the boy radiates such… serenity. Enough for Tony���s legs to stop moving. For now.  “Yeah, I guess that’s a good point.” Peter pauses. “But… How does that tie to everything being wrong?”

Instantly, Tony’s heartbeat picks up again and his fingers clench involuntarily.  “You ask too much,” he breathes. “No offense, but you keep shit to yourself too much.” “Mh-” is all that Tony answers to that. The boy is eerily perceptive. Tony sighs. He has to admit that it doesn’t feel too bad talking to Peter. 

“It… Doesn’t tie together at all. Not really,” Tony finally mumbles. God, he can’t believe he’s saying it out loud. “Somehow, I’ve developed a drug allergy for my anxiety meds. We’ve tried different types, but nothing works…” He scoffs. “Lucky me.” “Oh, uhm, so you’ve got anxiety then?” “Yeah,” Tony sighs. “My mind just… Doesn’t stop. Never. Not without the meds.” “Is that why you’re… y’know, eh- So tense all the time?” “Nice choice of words,” Tony laughs. “You can call me an asshole. I don’t mind. I know how shitty I am - don’t worry.” He hates how self-loathing it sounds. But then, he does loathe himself, so where’s the lie? “The anxiety’s the reason Pepper keeps Morgan away from me.”

“Wait what?” Peter’s eyes widen. “What happened?” “Nothing happened. I swear- I might be a wreck, but whenever Morgan is around it’s different, y’know? My focus is on her. Fully.” Tony breathes out. Dammit, he can’t believe he’s telling Peter all of this. Peter doesn’t push for more, instead, he waits for Tony to keep talking. Tony sniffs. “I still have my emergency meds though. They’re much stronger, not meant for daily use. They make me sleepy and foggy and unattentive. I’ve never taken one with Morgan there, but Pepper… She thinks it’s a hazard. In her eyes, it makes me a bad father.”

Tony presses his lips together and feels another wave of tears flood his eyes. “Pepper and I never dated. Morgan was, eh, an accident from a one night stand. “I’ve supported Pepper from day one. I paid for everything she and Morgan could possibly need. I even canceled shows to babysit her whenever she wanted a night off…” “How long has this been going on for?” Peter asks quietly. Tony shrugs. At this point he, funnily enough, told Peter so much he doesn’t even care about oversharing anymore. His secrets are out anyway. “My drug allergy started about a year ago. I haven’t seen her in eight months…” Tony laughs bitterly. “You remember my ‘shitty day’ on New Year’s Eve? Pepper was supposed to come to watch the show with Morgan. Of course, not backstage for their privacy- but in the crowd, y’know? I’d meet them a few blocks away before the show…” Tony swallows. “Pepper never showed up and blocked my number and social media.”

“Jesus fuck,” Peter mutters. “That’s… I can’t believe she’d do that. Tony, for real, can’t you just sue her?” “I could,” Tony says quietly. If he’d get a dollar for each time that that thought crossed his mind, he’d be a billionaire by now. “But it’s only a matter of time before some crap journalist finds out. I’d throw Morgan in the spotlights and that’s the one thing I don’t want.” “Right, I… I didn’t think about that.” Peter shakes his head. “Fuck.” “Yeah, it’s a real Catch-22.” “What’s that?” “Doesn’t matter. I’m fucked. That’s what it means.” Tony stands up from the bed, suddenly restless. He paces back and forth. The room is so infinitely small and he groans. His chest aches when the reality of his own words hit home full force. 

“I’m fucked, so fucked. Goddammit!”

Tony had been somewhat calm throughout the talk. Now, his fingers are tingling and it’s only then that he notices his shallow breathing.  “Fuck,” he rushes out and reaches for his small travel bag. “Talking about Xanax, I’m gonna need one now- I need…” He should’ve known that talking about this was inevitably going to set him off. He wishes he didn’t need it. He wishes Peter wouldn’t see him like this. But he knows that if he doesn’t take one he’s not going to calm down anytime soon. “Need water?” Peter asks, clearly trying to help. Tony just nods, unable to say anything else. His fingers finally find the bottle with his pills and he chews on his bottom lip as he tries to open the lid. His hands are shaky, though, and his panic grows when he can’t seem to take it off.

“Here,” Peter gently mumbles. “Lemme help.” The boy crouches down and takes the bottle from Tony’s hands. He opens it and hands Tony one of the pills together with a glass of water. Tony gratefully takes it- too tired to fight it. He sticks the pill into his mouth and quickly chugs it down with the water. He knows he’s still gonna have to wait for the actual effects to kick in, but knowing how he’ll feel once it does, helps him to not lose himself to the whims of his body.

“I’m… Just gonna lie down,” he mutters. “Can you maybe, uhm, God, I’m sorry. Can you maybe distract me a bit until I calm down?” “Of course. Wanna hear about the early days of The Arachnoids?” Peter suggests while Tony crawls under the covers. He tugs his legs into his chest and closes his eyes. No more thinking. Peter doesn’t second-guess Tony’s request and that tugs at Tony’s heart. Peter’s been nothing but nice, even helping him after being such an asshole to him for days on end. Tony knows he doesn’t deserve this, knows he- “Alright, so, we had to do this weird as fuck school project once. MJ was the first one who came up with…”

-

Thirty minutes later, Tony finally starts to feel the familiar, drowsy feeling he’s been longing for so much. Peter’s still talking. Tony isn’t actively listening to the words anymore. Instead, he lets Peter’s voice rain down on him. He never realized quite how pleasant the boy’s voice is. Soft and warm, with hints of excitement seeping through whenever he tells a part he’s passionate about. It’s nearly meditative. “...and then we got the invite to play for The Avengers, and that’s where we are now!” Peter ends his story, voice cheerful and light.

“Thank you,” Tony whispers and he hates how much his voice still wavers. “I needed that.” A small breath leaves Peter’s lips before he speaks.  “Of course, Tony. I’m here whenever you need me, ‘kay?” “Y-yeah. Okay.” Tony tugs at the sheets to hide his body underneath it a little more. The soft, thick fabric feels so incredibly soothing against his skin that it nearly makes him tear up again. He stares when Peter’s head turns to look at him, the glimmering of the boy’s eyes reflecting the tiny bit of light that still enters the room through the curtains. “If you need a hug,” Peter whispers so gently it’s almost unfair. “-I’m right here. All you have to do is ask.”

“I don’t need a hug,” Tony mutters before he even realizes it. “That’d… Be weird, wouldn’t it?” Tony already feels weak enough. Admitting he needs a pair of strong arms around him is something he could never do. “Alright, what if we flip it around, huh?” Peter smiles. “If I’d say I want to give you a hug right now, would you accept it?” “I…” Tony frowns and blinks a few times when he realizes that, while it’s the same thing, somehow this doesn’t trigger any form of resistance inside of his body. He’s painfully aware of the point Peter’s making here. “Yes.”

Peter hums and shifts a little closer. Tony swallows when he feels how the boy’s arms wrap around his rigid body. The first thing Tony notices is how soft and warm Peter’s skin is. The second thing is how Peter cuddles up to him completely. Yes, that feels so good.

The third thing… He can’t even think about that anymore. His mind drifts off into the dark depths of his mind. The darkness doesn’t swallow him, though. No. It’s warm. And cozy. 

Safe.

-

Next Chapter >> 9: Wary Words

[saltybaltic]

Natasha Romanoff X Carol Danvers - WORK OUT

Natasha Romanoff / Black Widow X Carol Danvers / Captain Marvel Fanfic

Synopsis: Carol has agreed to stay on earth for a little while to work with The Avengers to deal with a new enemy threat. She seems to have caught Natasha’s eye in particular

Warnings: Language, smut

Words: I dunno, a few. Maybe 1000. Maybe more

So it turns out peer pressure works. I errr .., yeah I’ve kind of had a half a skeleton of this story sat in my drafts for a little while and I wasn’t sure about posting it but it seems the people want it. I reblog one (1) carolnat fic and I have literally never had so many messages in one night for one thing. I haven’t been able to reply to all of them because I didn’t wanna spam everyone but believe me when I say YOU HAVE BEEN HEARD. Please please let me know what you think of this, I was super unsure about posting this, so if you enjoy it. Let me know! Behold: CarolNat

Ps. And do not even COME AT ME AGAIN about Carol being a bottom. It’s a fact, let’s move on

Carol had been sure her tactics to get the other woman’s attention for the last couple of hours had been working. She was almost positive that she had seen darkened green eyes follow her around the room as she went about her work out routine in the gym. She was also certain that she had felt someone watching her while she lifted weights for the last fifteen minutes and her suspicions were confirmed as she bent down to pick up her towel and caught the eye of the red head on the other side of the room, daring to maintain eye contact as the other woman wet her lips before turning away.

It was impossible for Carol not to feel a little smug that her efforts hadn’t gone unnoticed, slinging her towel over her shoulder before making her way out of the gym and heading for the showers. She hadn’t gone to work out with the intention of flaunting herself so openly. However when she walked in and saw Natasha training alone as well, it had seemed like much too good an opportunity to miss.

Granted this was probably not the best of plans; to continue with what had been branded by both women as a ‘terrible idea’. It was messy and thoughtless and it only added another account to an already extensive list of complicated situations Carol’s impulsiveness has gotten her into in the past. But stopping herself from acting in the moment had never been Carol’s strong suit and with the mission at hand getting harder by the day, sources of comfort were in short supply.

A small part of her hoped that the other woman wouldn’t follow her. That it would just make everything easier if the opportunity was simply taken away from her and she wouldn’t have to resist alone. Throwing her work out gear onto the bench and retrieving a fresh towel from her locker, Carol wondered if it would just be for the best if Natasha ignored her this time and she was left to deal with things on her own.

Was that what she wanted though? Definitely not.

Her mind was plagued with memories of the times Natasha had helped her deal with the toll this mission was taking. Teeth sinking into her shoulders followed by lips sucking and teasing darkened marks into her flesh. Carol bunched her eyes closed and gave her head a shake before stepping onto the tiles beneath the shower head, pointlessly trying to banish the images from her brain. But still they kept coming. Hardened nipples pressing into her back and a hot breath on the back of her neck as slender fingers slipped between her legs and were plunged inside of her. Slamming her hand against the nozzle on the wall, Carol pushed out a long breath and looked down as the water began to fall over her. She rubbed at her eyes and then over her forehead to push the wet hair out of her face as she attempted to compose herself and just think straight. She was supposed to be here to help The Avengers. This was work and that meant being professional and making sure the job gets done. Natasha was a team mate and getting too personal with co workers was always destined to end badly, never mind sleeping together.

After several minutes of pep talk, Carol finally felt like she could feel her heart rate returning to normal, thoughts of naked, writhing flesh and moans of pleasure no longer consuming her mind. It was a bad idea.

Her stomach dropped when she heard the faint sound of a footstep on the wet tiles behind her, her heart beginning to hammer again as she sensed the presence of someone close to her.

“We shouldn’t.” muttered Carol quietly, her statement sounding weak enough that it must have taken all of her effort just to say it.

There was no response, but she heard someone taking a few steps closer until eventually she felt the touch of someone else’s skin graze lightly against her back.

“Hands ... against the wall.”

Carol huffed, leaning forward enough so that she could rest her forehead against the tiles and look down at the ground. She tried to focus on the water going down the drain in an attempt to ground herself and not succumb to what was about to happen.

“Nat, really ... this isn’t a good idea.”

Her eyes fell closed as she felt soft lips press a lingering kiss to the back of her neck followed by words spoken lowly into her ear, “I said hands on the wall Danvers.”

Pushing out a shaky breath, Carol shook her head from side to side against the wall of the shower as she tried to ignore the burning heat of arousal that was taking over her body. She knew it was pointless, already sure she was soaked just from thinking about what Natasha was capable of doing to her. There was no use fighting what she was feeling, her body already acting on impulse as she raised her arms to rest her hands either side of her head on the wall. She could practically hear the smirk on Natasha’s face when she spoke again,

“Feet apart.”

This time she didn’t hesitate before doing as she was told, shuffling her feet along the ground as she pushed out a shaky breath. The feeling of Natasha’s fingers sinking into her hips to hold her in place only served in making her lose the last of her resolve.

“That’s it.” said Natasha quietly, giving the inside of one of Carol’s feet a gentle kick, “Bit further princess.”

Carol swallowed thickly as she did as she was asked, another wave of arousal washing over her at Natasha’s words. She could only shiver and release a low moan as fingers skimmed over the inside of her thigh and she felt the other woman’s breath hit her ear.

“You still think we shouldn’t?” Asked Natasha, her tone taunting as she dragged her fingers a little further up Carol’s leg, leaning forward enough that her breasts were pressed to the blonde’s back.

Carol laughed quietly, the hairs on the back of her neck beginning to stand on end as Natasha’s contact got heavier on her skin, “I still think it’s a bad idea.”

Humming in response, Natasha pressed her lips to the side of Carol’s neck, covering her skin with bites and open mouthed kisses as her hand reached the top of Carol’s inner thigh and paused.

“So you think I should stop?” Asked Natasha quietly, teeth scraping against Carol’s shoulder as she brushed a finger lightly over the length of her pussy.

Carol could only moan in response, fingers wiggling against the tiles as she tried to stop herself from just giving in entirely and pushing down onto Natasha’s hand.

“I asked you a question.” Natasha paused to press a kiss underneath the other woman’s ear, “Do you want me to stop? I was under the impression I had to follow Captain’s orders.”

“God I hate that you’re so good at this.” groaned Carol, her tone only half serious. Already she felt like she had never been more turned on in her life, sure that evidence of her arousal had to be dripping down her thighs at this point. Natasha’s fingers were continuing to move slowly, occasionally dipping lower just enough to graze her clit or tease her entrance before moving back, and each touch was causing Carol’s hips to move involuntarily in a bid for more.

“No you don’t.” Teased Natasha, finding it harder and harder to mask her own enjoyment as she felt how wet Carol was already. “You want it or not?”

Blowing out a sharp breath, Carol turned her head so she could just about see the red head out the corner of her eye, “Yes, shit Nat just fuck me already.”

The last thing Carol heard was a low chuckle from Natasha before the pulsing of blood in her ears blocked out everything as she felt the other woman push two fingers forcefully inside of her. If it hadn’t been for her hands and forehead pressed against the tiles, she was positive she would have toppled over at the overwhelming sensation of pleasure that took over her as Natasha started to fuck her. The sounds of her moans already deafening as they echoed off the bathroom tiles but Carol couldn’t bring herself to care as Natasha buried her fingers inside of her pussy again.

Each thrust and curl of her fingers felt incredible and Carol was struggling to think of any reason at all why she would ever have tried to fight this. A loud groan of Natasha’s name sounded through the showers as the red head slipped her other hand around Carol’s waist towards her breast so that was able to pinch at one of her nipples, lips and teeth and tongue continuing their assault on the blonde’s skin.

Carol’s fingers scratched and scraped against the tiles in the hope of finding something, anything to hold onto as Natasha dipped her other hand lower so she was able to circle over her clit. She had found herself completely trapped between Natasha’s body and the wall that she was near enough being pounded into, grateful for something holding her in place as her legs started to tremble beneath her.

“Do you wanna come for me?” Asked Natasha tauntingly, sinking her teeth into Carol’s ear lobe and pressing harder against her clit as the other woman merely moaned and nodded her head eagerly. Her head was already spinning, body beginning to tingle as each push of Natasha’s fingers brought her closer to the edge. She was desperately hoping Natasha would just allow her to come so easily, not failing to forget previous encounters when the red head would have her begging for it. But another curl of her digits as she circled over her clit again told her that this time, she wasn’t going to be disappointed, “Come on then pretty girl, I wanna hear how good I make you feel.”

Allowing herself to be so desperately at someone’s mercy was a new experience for Carol but the most bizarre thing about it all was how totally and completely she was into it. The almost mocking tone Natasha would use with her sometimes would send a shiver down her spine and it only made her moan out louder in pleasure. This, she had discovered, usually spurred the red head on more and would result in Carol getting exactly what she wanted. It seemed this time would be no different, the blonde groaning out loud in pleasure as Natasha slammed her fingers into her harder and she could feel her orgasm beginning to build in the pit of her stomach.

“Oh my god, fuck-“ Carol dropped one of her hands from the wall as she felt herself tightening around the firm brush of fingertips inside of her, using it instead to grip Natasha’s wrist both for something to help her keep upright and to make sure there was no risk of her stopping. “I’m so close Nat, just a little...”

She didn’t get a chance to finish her sentence as another buck of her hips against the other woman’s hand was enough to push her over the edge, Natasha’s fingers angled perfectly to hit the spot that made her see stars. The red head released a low groan of satisfaction as she felt Carol’s pussy clench around her, a loud moan of her name sounding throughout the shower as her body shuddered and she came hard.

Allowing her to ride out her high, Natasha didn’t stop the movement of her hand completely, slowing her pace as she rested her forehead against Carol’s back and used the other hand to stroke gently over her hip.

Carol was still attempting to regulate her breathing when she spoke, barely stuttering out words between pants for breath, “Okay we really need to stop doing this.”

“You said that last time.” Muttered Natasha, lazily withdrawing her fingers and unable to suppress a grin at the jerk of the hips the movement caused, “And the time before that.”

She was unable to hold back a laugh, gulping in air in a bid to catch her breath, “I mean it this time.”

“You sure about that?” Asked Natasha, raising her hand to the top of the other woman’s back and pressing her index finger between her shoulder blades. Carol tilted her head from side to side, resisting the urge to squirm under the red head’s touch as she dragged her finger slowly down her spine, “Cause I think it feels like you want me to fuck you again.”

The noise that left Carol’s lips was closer to a growl than anything. She so badly wanted to do the right thing, but in a post orgasmic daze and with the feeling of Natasha’s fingers buried inside of her still so fresh, it was impossible to do anything but arch herself into the woman behind her. Who was to say this was so wrong anyway?

Turning on the spot, Carol grabbed Natasha’s face in her hands and pulled her body flush against her own, “I’m being stupid right?”

Natasha smirked, “Totally stupid.”

“Thought so.” Carol nodded her head frantically, tugging the other woman’s lips to meet her own and mumbling into her mouth, “Just keep fucking me until I stop being stupid then.”

Her smirk broadening, Natasha dipped her hand to plunge her fingers eagerly back inside of Carol, “Whatever you say Captain.”

[freedom-of-fanfic]

on public block lists, personality cults, and not perpetuating fandom hate

on a side note, I feel it’s important to say this:

the now-deleted post that was created by a popular pro-shipper in the VLD fandom which named out some antis/former antis is a good example of why I do not support making public block lists or 99.8% of callout posts, especially on sites like tumblr where that post is forever the second somebody reblogs it. People can change, URLs get abandoned and picked up by somebody new, etc etc, and unfortunately, when you can’t control distribution of a post you can’t control people who use that post to harass and attack the subjects of it (and there are plenty of people out there eager to do so).

Similarly, I think it was entirely too generalizing of the post to simply blanket-state that all blogs with kl urls or referencing being lesbian are likely to be antis. though the majority of anti-shippers in vld fandom are kl shippers, that does not mean all kl shippers are antis. and while I see what it was trying (and failing) to correlate*, it’s both false and harmful to imply or state that all blogs with sapphic/lesbian url references are anti-shipper blogs supporting harassment.

that said: I’ve seen a number of anti-shippers holding up names on that list as innocent because the blogger is a minor and/or there’s no direct examples of harassment or threatening people, and I need to point out that being a minor and/or never harassing or bullying people yourself or under your own blog name is far from proof that a person is not contributing to or even a principle instigator of harassment and bullying.

first of all: minors are absolutely capable of abusing and bullying one another and bullying/abusing adults, especially on a site like tumblr where our social power is roughly evened out by the site structure. that doesn’t mean I think minors deserve to be immortalized on public block lists - I don’t think anybody deserves that - but being a minor is a mitigating factor, not an excuse.

second: it’s extremely important to recognize that communities with cultlike structures such as anti-shipping circles frequently have popular ringleaders who provoke, encourage, and praise their followers for acts of harassment and bullying, but never participate in it directly themselves. This makes it difficult to point out how they perpetuate a toxic environment because there’s little or no direct proof of their actions. These people form cults of personality and frequently take an active part in cultivating their following, and if they are not always actual predators, they are certainly toxic bloggers that can be difficult to escape from after being drawn into their influence.

(this is not to say that anyone on that post fits this category. there are people both on and off their list who I have seen be toxic in the past, but that does not mean they are acting that way now. I discourage anyone from judging people on behavior from years past, and I highly, highly discourage anyone using a public block list completely blind. the deleted post and the backlash just reminded me to point this out.)

my suggestions to protect yourself from buying into or perpetuating hate in fandom would be: 

avoid generalizations: especially about marginalized groups, but also for non-marginalized groups. no category of people are a monolith.

be very wary of anybody who tells you what to think and/or tries to trick you into thinking the way they want you to, shipper or anti-shipper.

recognize that while anti-shipping communities tend to foster fear and toxicity, this does not mean that pro-shipper groups, anti-anti groups, or any other group is automatically free of abusers and hate.

learn the warning signs for toxic people and the warning signs of toxic groups and judge your fave bloggers and fandom circle based on how they behave and treat people now/going forward.

limit voices of fandom hate and/or salt in your life. salt begets more salt. hate is like a fire: anything that doesn’t douse it can only feed it.

never forget to celebrate what you love.

(timestamp: first posted on March 14th, 2018.)

(EDIT: March 16th, 2018: my wording put too much emphasis on the creator of the (deleted!!) post. I’ve edited it to better reflect that my issue is with the contents of the post itself, which - as OP deleted it - does not seem to reflect their views properly either.

also the backlash against the OP has been WILDLY out of proportion to the offense in an absolutely classic example of how abusers in the anti-shipper ranks feel no compunction or offense over keeping public shipper block lists (that are still up, by the way!**) but draw big red circles around the slightest slip-up of people they hate. because hey - the rules don’t apply to them. only to YOU.

edit repeated under the cut to ensure it’s seen.)

(EDIT: March 16th, 2018: my wording put too much emphasis on the creator of the (deleted!!) post. I’ve edited it to better reflect that my issue is with the contents of the post itself, which - as OP deleted it - does not seem to reflect their views properly either.

also the backlash against the OP has been WILDLY out of proportion to the offense in an absolutely classic example of how abusers in the anti-shipper ranks feel no compunction or offense over keeping public shipper block lists (that are still up, by the way!**) but draw big red circles around the slightest slip-up of people they hate. because hey - the rules don’t apply to them. only to YOU.)

As in: doxxing and threatening family members levels. (Another reason I regret making this particular post.)

*I think the poster was trying to draw a line of association that may exist to some degree, but they did it in a way that’s hurtful to lesbians.  that line is:

anti culture adopts/modifies a lot of radfem - particularly swerf - ideology (porn and kink are always bad/harmful to perceived women, perceived women are harming themselves and one another if they like/participate in it). many blogs that support radfem/terf/swerf ideology - sometimes on purpose, sometimes just by absorbing the rhetoric from tumblr - have urls referencing being sapphic or lesbian. therefore, they suggest that lesbian url = anti-shipper, which is simply too broad a claim to even draw a meaningful correlation.

the truth is: 

radfems/terfs/swerfs as an organization are generally only interested in anti-shipping/fandom in general inasmuch as they can use it to recruit new members. (there are radfems/terfs/swerfs in fandom because they love fandom.)

many people with sapphic/lesbian references in their URL are not radfems or any subgroup of radfem, nor do they support radfem ideology either on purpose or by passive acceptance of radfem lite(tm) posts on tumblr. similarly, many people with sapphic/lesbian references in their URL are not antis.

not all antis are radfem/terf/swerf. In fact, most antis probably believe they are opposed to radfems/terfs/swerfs without realizing that they utilize some of their rhetoric in fandom policing.

it’s understandable that a correlation would be drawn by people on tumblr between lesbian/sapphic urls and radfems/anti-porn blogs, but it just can’t be generalized like that b/c it hurts those with lesbian/sapphic urls that aren’t of that crowd.

**the list itself is private, but because the mods answer questions publicly anyone who was requested to be added by a third party on anon is still publicly listed! HILARIOUS.

PS: i’m leaving this post up because anyone who clicks the readmore will be able to see my edits and I think that’s going to be more helpful than deleting it entirely in the long run. but otherwise I would delete it entirely because this post was brought to the attention of the OP of the deleted post in a way that wounded them, and i am deeply sorry for that. :(

[mf-despair-queen]

Cheer Up, Buttercup - Stuart Twombly

Author: @mf-despair-queen​

Characters: Stuart Twombly/Reader

Word Count: 2,871

Warnings: Fluffy Goodness

Notes: @ninja-stiles was having a bad day, so I told her I would write her some fluffy goodness to cheer her up. I hope this cheers you up, babe. Remember, you mean the world to us. Don’t ever forget that. PS. This is NOT proofread because it’s 5:30 and I need sleep. WHOOPS.

A heavy sigh left your lips and you jogged up the stairs to the Team Lyle workroom, already an hour late. You were mentally trying to prepare for the earful Lyle would deliver before apologizing profusely for being a bad manager or some shit. Just another thing to add to your list of problems: Trying to convince Lyle he isn’t the loser manager he will claim he is.

You were thankful you had the job in the first place. You were sure walking into the Google headquarters on the first day of the internship that you were not going to make the cut. You weren’t nearly smart enough as the others, or so you always believed. Your whole life was one rough patch after another, your self-confidence dwindling into a pile of confetti that was blown to the wind long ago. You hated that aspect of yourself honestly, but after years of being overlooked by others, it takes a toll on your mind.

The first time you sat in the room with Lyle and the “leftovers,” you lost the only remaining hope you had. You had gone unnoticed by the others in the internship during the team selection process, inevitably added to the group of misfits you sat with now. The way everyone interacted depressed you greatly, and you felt that overwhelming feeling of not belonging.

You were surprised when you began to connect to the others over the time in the internship, especially your favorite glasses-wearing nerd by the name of Stuart Twombly. You were, for reasons unbeknownst to you, the first person he truly talked to, putting his phone down so he could have a proper conversation with you. You slowly warmed up to the goofball, a small glimmer of hope filling your insides.

Your mood improved over time, peaking when you were announced as the winners of the internship. For the first time in forever things seemed to be looking up. You had developed friendships that you felt could last forever. You had experienced things not many college kids could say they have done. You had gotten a job at Google. I mean seriously, how cool is that?

The best, but also worst, feeling you had discovered over time had been your growing crush on Stuart. You always felt this twinge in your gut when you were near him, your insides fluttering whenever he wrapped his arms around you in a hug. Warmth spread through your body when he held your hand under the table during lectures, though your dubbed it as a sign of an intense friendship, assuring yourself he would never like you more than a friend. You continuously ignored the spark you felt whenever his skin met yours, a tingly sensation running through your being, and your heart hammering against your chest whenever your eyes met his. So, the night you wound up in a strip club instead of a dance club showed you the truth.

It started out perfectly fine, sharing shots with the team, relaxing as a means of team bonding. But it all changed when Billy and Nick started arranging for Yoyo and Stuart to have lap dances. You slunk off to the side, biting t your nail eagerly, eyes transfixed on the beanieless head of Stuart. Neha sauntered over, nudging your side, giving you a look.

“What?” You asked, never taking your eyes off the boy across the club, noting the crooked glasses from the frenzy of the lap dance.

“You know what,” Neha retorted, your head finally turning to her. “You like him, girly. And you’re jealous right now.”

You snickered lowly, shaking your head. “We’re just friends, Neha. Nothing more, nothing else.”

“You want it to be more, though,” she mumbled. You stayed silent, turning your head back to Stuart. Neha watched you gnaw on your lip before finally grabbing your arm, tugging you away to the bathroom. You stumbled in the heels you were wearing, Neha slamming the door shut behind you. She shoved you against the sink, crossing her arms. “Alright, spill. You and Stuart, go.”

You shrugged, fingers drumming against the counter. “There is nothing to say, Neha. We are just friends!” You told her, ignoring her gaze. “He is just a friend that makes me very happy.”

Neha sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Alright, let me try to dissect this problem. I’ve read enough fanfiction and hentai to know when a girl has feelings for a guy,” she huffed aloud, looking at you up and down. “Tell me if you are exhibiting any of the follow symptoms. Fluttery feeling in your gut? Happiness when you are around him? A spark when he touches you? Rapid beating of the heart whenever you see the biggest dick of our team?” You nodded at each of her items, Neha’s mouth falling open, slightly squealing. “Girl, you got a ginormous case of “I’m crushing on Stuart Twombly” and I hate to tell you this, but there is no cure.”

You rolled your eyes, pushing yourself off the counter. “You’re insane. I do not, in any shape or form have a crush on Stuart. Now can we get back out there and dance before the guys get us kicked out? Because you know they will fuck up at some point.”

Neha sighed, following you out of the bathroom. You took long strides towards the couches your team had gotten earlier, Stuart now alone, drinking a beer. His eyes locked with yours, smiling as he pulled the bottle from his lips. A dark blush spread across your cheeks as he waved, your thoughts drifting to how sexy he looked when he was drinking. You stopped in your tracks, outside of Stuart’s earshot. Neha stopped beside you, looking at your face closely.

“Neha,” you whispered, her head cocking to the side. “I hate when you’re right. I like Stuart Twombly.”

You kept your feelings on the down low, ignoring the burning hole in your heart whenever you looked at him sitting across from you at work. You tried taking the year back at school after the internship to sort out your feelings, silently praying they would vanish. But whenever his name popped up with a new text, or you would agree to skype him, those feelings would return, stronger every time. You were in deep, and there was no escaping.

Neha was right. There was no cure for this.

Now, back to today. Today was the type of day that anything and everything went wrong. You were on the verge of a mental breakdown and you had only been awake for a few hours. It was only ten A.M., and you had the rest of the day cramped in Team Lyle’s office to deal with more pitfalls you were bound to crash into.

All heads snapped in your direction when you slunk into the office, Lyle’s face holding a prominent frown. “You’re late. What happened? You didn’t even call,” he rambled. You muttered an apology, sitting in your desk chair, placing your stuff on your desk. “Are you alright, Y/N? Am I being a bad-��

You cut him off, shaking your head profusely. “You are not a bad manager. Don’t even start. I’m just… having a very bad morning. I would have called if my phone decided it didn’t want to fall out of my pocket as I got into my car this morning,” you told him, holding up the broken phone, screen shattered into a million pieces.

Lyle nodded, assuring it was alright this time, leaving you with a “warning,” if that’s what you want to call it. You sighed, cracking open your laptop, seeing the blue screen in front of you. You groaned loudly, basically slamming your hands on the keyboard. “Are you serious? You have got to be kidding me,” you mumbled. Stuart, who was sitting across from you, looked at your curiously.

“Everything alright, Y/N?” He asked, pushing his glasses up his nose. You ran a hand through your hair, ignoring his question as you tried to fix your computer. Your attempts were getting worse, the banging getting louder. Stuart got up from his seat, walking around your desk and grabbing your hands. You glanced up at him, tears brimming in the corners of your eyes. “Hey. Calm down. It’s going to be alright.”

You shook your head, a few stray tears leaking down your cheeks. “No, it’s not. Everything wants to go wrong today.”

Stuart wiped the tears from your cheeks, glancing around the room. He grasped your hands tightly, pulling you up from your seat. “Hey guys, we’ll be right back,” Stuart uttered to the others, Lyle seeing the frown on your face. He gave a thumbs-up, Stuart leading you out of the room, towards the closest unoccupied conference room. He locked the door so no one would disturb you, placing you in the plush conference chair. “Alright, spill. What’s wrong?”

You huffed, wiping at your eyes, trying not to ruin your make up. “What isn’t wrong today? I woke up to a note from my roommate saying that she had moved out because she decided to elope with some guy she met two days ago. I can’t afford my rent by myself, so I have two weeks to figure out what to do. And my rent just went up too! There was a notice on my door this morning about it! Then, I went to shower, and our water heater was broken, so I had to take an ice-cold shower. As soon as I got out, my power went out because some moron crashed his car into the transformer, taking out the block. My phone is shattered, like I showed Lyle. I had to jumpstart my car, which took forever, then I got stuck in traffic! Parking was packed, and now my computer won’t start!”

Stuart sighed, kneeling in front of you, rubbing his thumbs over the skin of your hands. “Hey. It’s alright. It’s just one bad day. Things will get better.”

You solemnly chuckled, shuffling in your seat. “You see, this isn’t the only bad day I’ve had. I was out with some of my friends from Berkley the other night, and I completely didn’t fit in. They forgot I was even there. Let alone the fact that they are all getting married or pregnant or in a relationship in general. And here I am, my ugly self, no one ever wanting to date me. I’m going to die an old cat lady. I always feel like I don’t fit in with people, even when I’m here. Always getting overlooked for the things I do, and I never do anything right. I just… I can’t take it.”

Stuart sighed, tilting your chin up to look at him. “Hey, cheer up, buttercup. It may seem bad now, but things will only get better. Don’t let those things bother you. Most of the things you just said aren’t true anyway. You aren’t ugly in the slightest.”

You laughed, pushing his hand away. “You don’t need to lie to cheer me up, Stu.”

“Who said I was lying?” He muttered, pushing some loose hair behind your ear. “You’re the most beautiful girl I know. Why would I ever lie to you? You’re gorgeous, inside and out.” You smiled faintly, Stuart smiling the rare smile you loved. “There’s the lovely smile. Just cheer up, alright babe? Don’t let the little things get to you. You are wonderful. I know you told me once that you had serious self-confidence issues, which I have told you multiple times is insanely stupid because you are perfect the way you are, but I assure you, you don’t need to worry. You’re important to us, to your team. Lyle recognizes everything you do. We all do, even if we don’t say it aloud. We wouldn’t be able to finish things without you. You don’t need to be anyone but yourself, alright?”

You smiled a little wider, pulling Stuart into a hug. “Thank you, Stu. I couldn’t ask for a better friend.”

You felt Stuart stiffen slightly, hugging back slowly. “Anything for you. Now, you go get cleaned up and I will get your computer running, okay?” You nodded, wiping your eyes when you pulled from the hug. “Good. I will see you back in there soon.” With that he trotted off, leaving you alone.

God, why is he so perfect?

Stuart was able to get your computer running, trying to keep you calm whenever another bad thing seemed to happen. You were thankful for his constant support, but your depression was slowly growing. You kept asking yourself when something was going to go right, which the world replied with a big fat “never” because Stuart had excused himself early from work, leaving you alone.

It took you an extra hour to get home, considering your car stalled on your four times on the drive. You trudged into your apartment, the power still off from the accident that morning. You sighed, knowing all of your food in your fridge and freezer would be spoiled, two hundred dollars’ worth of groceries down the drain. You collapsed on your couch, staring at the dark ceiling.

“Why me?” You asked into the nothingness, running your hands over your face. “What did I do to deserve this? Why can’t anything go right?”

You hadn’t been home for long when the doorbell rang. You groaned, rolling off the couch, shuffling to the door. Opening it slowly, your neighbor, an older gentleman by the name of Eric, was in front of you. He was holding a beautiful bouquet of flowers, and not just any flowers.

Buttercups.

Eric smiled, holding the flowers out to you. “A nice young man said to deliver these to you. Said you were having a bad day and needed a pick me up.”

You giggled, taking the flowers gently. “Thank you, Eric. I appreciate it.” He nodded, walking down your driveway quickly. You brushed your fingers over the flowers, taking the note that was bundled in the petals. You read over the neat writing multiple times, processing the words.

I hope these bring a smile to your face like you bring one to mine. When you are done, meet me in your backyard. And remember, Cheer Up, Buttercup.

You carefully placed the flowers on your counter, making a mental note to put them in a vase later. You made your way to your backyard, finding Stuart sitting in a chair near the pool. His head turned in your direction when he heard the glass door slide open and closed, a smile on his face.

“There’s my girl. Did you like my present?” He asked, standing up as you neared him. You nodded calmly, a smiling growing on your cheeks.

“I did. It was really sweet of you. Is that why you left early?” You asked, Stuart winding his arms around your waist.

“It may be part of the reason. I just needed to do something to bring a smile to your face. I can’t have the girl I love being unhappy, right?” He paused, realizing what he said when he saw your eyes widen. “I-I mean. Fuck. Shit. You didn’t hear that. I totally didn’t mean to say that.”

Stuart kept rambling apologies, beginning to make snarky remarks in his haste. You laughed, leaning up to place a chaste kiss to his lips. He shut up immediately, feeling your soft lips against his. “You’re rambling, Stu.” He looked away, a pink hue apparent on his defined cheeks, though covered slightly by his black frames. “I didn’t know you felt that way. If I did, I would have said I loved you back a long time ago.”

He looked up at you, using one hand to ruffle his hair in disbelief. “Seriously? I’ve been silently crushing on you for you to like me back? I’m not dreaming, right?”

You laughed, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Shouldn’t that be my line?”

Stuart grinned, leaning down to place a soft, passionate kiss to your lips. You smiled, tugging him closer, eyes sliding closed at the feeling. His head was tilted to the side, enveloping your lips completely. It was a sweet kiss, Stuart pulling away slowly before attacking your lips again. Your fingers played with the hairs on the nape of his neck, moaning softly at the feeling of his lips against yours.

Stuart pulled away, resting his forehead against yours. “You know,” he began, slightly breathless. “I was going to ask if you wanted to get dinner since your power is still out. Maybe, instead, I can just ask you on a date? And maybe we can discuss all your other issues and how to solve them”

You smiled widely, pecking his lips. “I think I would really like that, Stewie.”

Stuart groan, tugging you closer. “You know I hate that name. But,” he chuckled, kissing your forehead, “I think I can make an exception for you. If it helps cheer you up, buttercup. Now, let’s get some dinner.” His hand linked with yours, leading you out to his car, satisfied with the wide smile on your luscious lips that he was responsible for.