#sometimes you really like something but it just isn't meant to be

[nova-rogue]

The assumption that all production is a monolith is certainly a choice here. Two major things on cinematography:

Cinematographers are generally good at their job. They know way more than you could ever know about lighting a scene. Someone taking a screenshot and "brightening" it in software like photoshop is NEVER going to prove the point you think you're proving. Because lighting doesn't work that way and you're taking a 2D still of a 3D film that already has processing and compression and using a brightening tool. Like that's not how that works at all. This is a dumb comparison to make. You don't have the original captured image and all of its data. You cannot adjust the brightness with a screenshot: you need to be able to process the full image data.

A big downfall, though: Movies are lit specifically for the best case scenario of lighting and color nuance. Theater screens and projectors are supposed to be kept clean, working, and up to spec, and movies are lit for that purpose. A movie is rarely "too dark" it's just that you're watching it sub-optimally on a computer, phone, or TV, or god forbid on a movie projector that hasn't had its routine maintenance (something that notably got worse because of the pandemic!). This isn't your fault as a consumer btw, it's just a stupid disparity that exists.

Cinematographers light differently than you'd expect. White is meant to be seen as the BRIGHTEST thing on the screen. Every ounce of brightness is lit down based on that. Your computer screen? There are things just as bright as white because of the way brightness is done on computer monitors. Cinematographers use a system called False Color in order to identify and "visualize" brightness levels:

Note that Brightness has to do with literal light output and not hue or saturation. Those are different things.

Cinematographers use False Color overlays when adjusting for lighting on set in order to determine the appropriate levels based around pure white being the brightest thing ever on screen and pure black being the darkest possible thing.

Because of this: compression is a bitch. If you're watching on any at-home device your device is compressing the shit out of the bottom end of the spectrum! You are seeing LESS detail than intended. There will be artifacting there that's typically pretty visible. This doesn't happen with (maintained) projectors.

When you watch on an at-home device you are viewing with less color nuance than is actually captured on camera.

These cinematographers are not "lazy". They're not using "flat lighting" (jesus christ) and they rarely have to "fix things on set" like this post is implying. Their lights and lighting are often just fine. The bigger issue is the technology disparity between what Cinematographers are lighting for--for NUANCE and COLOR RANGE--versus what color range output the average person's device is capable of putting out.

Also, if you're ever watching a pirated movie or show, unfortunately it is highly likely it's in less quality than the original and the compression, artifacting, and overall quality is going to be worse. Not saying you're wrong for doing this (fuck the streaming service hell world), just making mention that pirating does sometimes affect quality.

See Also: VFX is absolutely a bitch too, but we do talk about it wrong. CGI tech is really good now, but I've seen VFX artists on twitter talk about how the biggest issues arise when the production team doesn't have a solid vision for what they want and keep changing their mind or making adjustments to what's needed. Less time to work on the CGI means less quality CGI. Sometimes the lighting and color grading of post-production is affected by this problem as well. If you watched either of Denis Villeneuve's DUNE films, it's worth watching any behind the scenes production stuff you can. You'll note that Villeneuve and Greig Fraser (my favorite cinematographer of all time btw) worked very hard with visual development, story boarding, and pre-production so that they had a clear vision for going into solving cinematography problems in advance, which also makes post-production go smoother. A lot of times it's not even the Director and Cinematographer's fault if they aren't given the time or budget to make things go as smoothly as DUNE.

So yeah, posts like this irritate me because a lot of assumptions are made by people who know very little about how cinematography works. There are little snippets here and there that are correct (like the rushed/lack of vision VFX stuff), but a lot of it gets pinned on either the director or cinematographer, which is often unfair. Someone doesn't get in Greig Fraser's position (or even lower!) by being bad at lighting on set. It's a job with an impossibly high skill ceiling. There is stuff with more mediocre cinematography, but the issues are rarely going to be "lazy lighting". It's usually something else.

OMG. Somebody said it out loud.

Disney is absolutely not the only studio doing this though.

It seems to have become standard practice across movies and series everywhere.

Anything that doesn't do it is like a breath of sunlight and fresh air inside a dank musty cave.

It's part of the 'fix it in post-production' epidemic sweeping through the studios. Fix it in post is often used as a time/money-saving measure - and is absolutely part of the same mess that the WGA is fighting against currently.

Rather than fixing things on-set - audio, lighting, something in-frame that shouldn't be, etc. (which is all handled by unionized crew) - they leave it for the CG folks (not unionized) to edit later.

(on ridiculously tight schedules that leave them scrambling, cutting corners, and working inhumane hours)

See also: that part where scripts aren't finished, because the studio won't fully staff the writers room, and won't pay to have writers on-set for day-of-filming script questions and fixes (which could resolve issues such as 'what kind of lighting do we need here?')

Anyway, all this shit we, as audiences, keep complaining about - bad lighting, bad sound, wonky visual effects, over-usage of not-great CGI, stilted acting on green-screen sets, scripts that seem not-quite-finished, costumes that look like they're cheap and flimsy, terrible hair and makeup, films and series that aren't as polished as they could be...

Plus the complaints we have about streaming services and their shenanigans...

All of that is enmeshed in the extreme capitalism that has taken over everything, including entertainment, to the point that studios are abusing their workforce and churning out material that - at best just doesn't live up to its potential - at worst, is just unwatchable shit.

[youcouldmakealife]

SOTM: Luke/Andreas; wined and dined

For the prompt: Andreas and Luke meeting/hooking up the second time

I literally finished this before I realised you guys probably meant like, the second time they hooked up, not the whole second time 'round. Mea culpa, everybody. And for those who interpreted it the same way I did...you're welcome?

Andreas can’t remember the last time he was wined and dined.

Though maybe that isn’t the best way to describe it — Andreas has dinner meetings all the time, has sat beside clients at the best restaurants in almost every NHL city, sampled from the menus of half of New York's most exclusive restaurants. Always on the agency’s dime, of course, or his multi-millionaire client’s, or the teams they play for, or the teams who want to sign them.

There’s plenty of wine involved — though Andreas always restricts himself to a glass when it's business — plenty of dining. But a meeting’s a meeting, whether it’s in a conference room, patiently waiting for a GM who’s been around since there were still six teams in the league to figure out how to unmute his mic, or eating something exceptional at a Michelin Star restaurant.

So obviously that’s not what he means. It’s not that he hasn’t been dating either, though admittedly, he had less and less time to spare for it as he got older. And not that he hasn’t gone on dinner dates specifically, where he allows himself a second glass of wine, orders what he’d like, rather than ‘what he’s having sounds good’, unless, Andreas supposes, it truly does sound good. So there has been wining and dining, in fact. Possibly even a surplus of it.

And yet.

At a certain point Andreas thinks he just stopped expecting romance. It wasn’t any sort of resigned, jaded disappointment at the dating scene. Not that it isn't a shitshow, but it's probably better here than just about anywhere else. More an acknowledgment that most guys didn’t seem to be looking for romance, at least the ones Andreas was dating.

And that was fine, because Andreas wasn’t really looking for it either. Romance was undeniably nice, but he worked long hours, put almost all of himself into his job, and what he had left didn’t require much more than good conversation and some companionship, a spark of attraction, mediocre or better sex. Romance might have come along down the line, but things didn’t tend to last long even when he did find someone who met his simple — yet almost impossible to find — criteria.

That one, he thinks has more to do with him than it does with them. Andreas’ career is one of those things that’s attractive in theory, but significantly less endearing when he’s slipping in and out of bed at all hours, constantly checking his email or ducking out to make a call, flying off to who knows where, sometimes with plenty of notice, sometimes with none at all.

Maybe his life just isn’t conducive to romance. He doesn’t like to think that, but there would be worse things, wouldn’t there? He has a job that he finds fascinating, a job that offers something different every day, a job that, incidentally, pays him more money than he has the time to spend. He could retire tomorrow if he wanted to, live the rest of his life in comfort, dedicate all his time to searching for true love, but why would he want to? It sounds excruciatingly boring.

So he works — he works a lot, works more than he should, at least according to everyone he knows, including Dave, the giant hypocrite — and he — well, he works. But it’s fine. Most people have to search for meaning in his life, but he has his. If anyone asks about it — and they all ask, except Dave, that gem of a fucking man — he says he doesn’t feel like he’s lacking anything. He’s not lying, either.

That doesn’t mean something doesn’t squeeze tight when Luke conveniently ‘happens to be in town’ — though if there’s any town that actually applies to, it’s New York — when he figures they should ‘catch up’. Even as he tells himself that he’s just catching up with an old flame, one who doesn’t even live in the same country as him anymore. Even as he tells himself once for old time’s sake, and then twice doesn’t hurt considering they’ve still got chemistry, then when it’s been three, four, half a dozen, and if Luke’s got a return ticket Andreas doesn’t know when it’s for, but it doesn’t feel like it’s any time soon.

Luke has always been a romantic. He’d deny it up and down if Andreas said it, and it wouldn’t even be a kneejerk macho shit — Andreas doesn’t think Luke even knows he does anything out of the ordinary. Andreas doubts he was thinking ‘I’m going to woo Andreas’ as he asked him out to dinner, not the first time, or the second, not when he came with a bag of groceries and a bottle of wine from a vineyard Andreas mentioned in passing, said he’d cook for him, laughing as he fought with Andreas’ temperamental bottle opener, scoffing when Andreas impatiently intervened before he could ruin a good bottle of wine.

Technically, he doesn’t even know if 'wooing' is Luke’s aim at all. He could just need the change of pace, miss the city, the speed of it, the convenience, and while he was here, Andreas was just as convenient as the rest of it — good conversation, good companionship, Luke more attractive than ever, the sex still fantastic. And they didn’t even have to get to know one another. What could be easier?

But Andreas doesn’t think so, at least not judging by the way Luke’s started looking at him.

Andreas doesn’t think anyone has ever looked at him like Luke does, the complete focus of it. Looking isn’t a strong enough word — it’s more like he’s taking him in, trying make sure that he gets every single detail correct, the way Andreas imagines a painter would gaze at their subject, a poet at their lover. Luke’s no poet, but, well — maybe he is, a little, minus the words. There’s something about the way Luke looks at the world. Something about the way Luke looks at him.

It used to unnerve Andreas, a little, especially because Luke wasn’t only looking at him like that over romantic candlelit dinners and endorphin fueled pillow talk, but also during the most mundane moments. Andreas would be scowling at his phone, pecking out an answer to a client who decided he urgently needed to discuss his contract on a Sunday morning, a full season before it expired, and he’d look up and there Luke was, visibly taking him in. Sometimes there’d be a little smile on his face — the moments Andreas let himself be a little cranky there often was — but often there wasn’t, just Luke’s eyes on him, taking him in like he was never going to see him again.

It was — a lot. Luke was a lot, almost from the very beginning. Andreas thought he was going to get a regrettable hook up out of things, and then he thought it was going to be a few of them, and it was like a switch was flipped, and Luke went from the hot, fun, surprisingly good in bed client Andreas had completely unprofessionally fucked — and not just once, but a few times, and then a handful — to even more surprisingly good company outside of bed, to something Andreas didn’t quite have a name for. Someone who was gone even more than Andreas was, someone Andreas started to miss when he was gone. Andreas was the one staying put, most of the time, but Luke was the one always watching him like he’d disappear the moment he closed his eyes.

The look hasn’t changed, and Andreas imagines it means the same thing now as it did then, Luke who doesn’t blink, Luke who jumps both feet first, Luke the romantic.

It doesn’t feel as overwhelming now, though Andreas suspects he’ll be spending some time thinking about just how quickly Luke was on board. How quick they both were — Andreas can’t pretend he doesn’t know what’s coming, what’s already here, can’t pretend that isn’t something he wants, when he could end things with a word.

But he doesn’t. This time Andreas lets himself look back, and when Luke catches him at it, he doesn’t let himself look away.

[aro-culture-is]

Aro culture is not understanding why people break up if they had been swooning over each other.

.

[mantisgodsdomain]

We ought to write more Pokemon fic some time. We want to recreate the Pokemon Manners/Human Manners cheat sheet that we made a few years ago we think that this site would like the Sliding Scale Of Politeness When Greeting A New Pokemon You've Never Met Before.

[stargatesg-1obsessed]

As someone who has only started writing this year, I feel this. I feel the pressure of feeling like I have to write just as good as some of my really good writer mutals or like the books i read, but in reality, they've been doing it for years, and I've just started. I don't need to be as good as them because I'm just going to end up critising myself for being a beginner writer and not having all the talent straight away, and that's just stupid.

All the feedback I've gotten on my fanfics has been wonderful. They're all really lovely people, and they're supportive even if the writing sucks because that's just what you do. It someone's writing is bad, don't point it out. If it bothers you that much, don't read it! I personally would much rather have one less hit on a fic than have someone be hateful in the comments. There is just no need for it. If you want to give them some tips, go for it. But don't be rude about it, especially when that person isn't a writer but is still judging them.

The whole point of fanfic is to have your own creative freedom, with the characters you love. And if your writing isn't as good as someone else's, or it doesn't sound as good as a book you've read, it doesn't matter!! All writers have off days, even the really talented ones with really popular books/fics. No one should critise you for your writing. They don't have the right. The only time it is semi acceptable is when you ask someone to beta a fic for you. And even then, it's not for critising. It's for helping out with any mistakes, typos, ooc dialogue, etc etc. You're not there to judge them, you're there to help them.

So please, if you see a fic with writing, that could be better, either support them, or just don't say anything. Because I know that writers need criticism sometimes, but what we really need is support. And if there is something you want to point out, say something simple like; "Loved this fic! Really loved how the characters interacted!! :D Although I think I saw a little typo towards the end when it says "the entire planet," I think you meant to put "the entire plane,". But it's not that big a deal, and we all make mistakes :))".

That's based on a comment I got from someone on AO3 who helped me out majorly with a typo. It changed the entire sentence and didn't make any sense otherwise. And they really saved me there.

But if you're going to say something rude like; "at the end, when you put "the entire plane," instead of what I think you meant to put which is "the entire planet," it really messed up the fic and it makes no sense." Then just don't point it out because I'm sure someone else with kinder words will.

Fanfic writers don't need to be as good as professional authors!!! Just have fun and create what you want, and what makes you happy. Don't be scared to post something because it's practise. We all do it, and we'll all improve if we have practising. Don't let someone else's harsh words stop you for doing what brings you joy.

At some point "fanfic can be as good as professional writing" became "fanfic should be as good as professional writing" and that's caused major damage to fandom spaces.

[giantkillerjack]

My sister-in-law frustrates me to no end even though we barely ever interact because she keeps inviting my partner to parties with her Christian Republican friends, even though my partner told her not to send an invite to us if those friends will be there. And even though my sister-in-law is bisexual!!

And then she turns around and complains about not knowing how to deal with her friends saying, like, horrible sexist stuff as though that is just some natural unavoidable quirk of having friends!

Like, these Christian Republicans she has befriended don't seem to be kind - they're not even nice a lot of the time! They don't make for good friends, and she doesn't seem happy or supported in relation to them. In fact, she basically only ever talks about how her friends and/or current boyfriend are making her unhappy!

Because here's the thing: The effect of prioritizing 'including your Trump-supporter friends at your parties' over 'being invested in creating a safe space for marginalized people in your home', is that people who DO care about creating those safe spaces... won't wanna hang out with you! Because if you invite both cats and mice to your table equally, only the cats will show!

She's so afraid of losing the shitty friends she has now that she allows them to act as barriers to accessing friends who are invested in her wellbeing in a capitalistic hellscape!

It makes me sad because she's basically trapped herself, and there's nothing I can do to offer help without either compromising my morals or making my partner's life way harder by starting shit with her family.

Like, I consider myself a good friend, yeah? I try really really hard to be one, and it matters to me immensely. I am ride-or-die for the folks I love, and I am invested in being open and vulnerable and radically safe to be around when it comes to building strong friendships that are mutually fulfilling. I have a unique talent for validating people that I have honed for years because I genuinely want to make sure people feel safe and loved and seen.

And if my sister-in-law and I were friends, I could give all of that to her. I would strive to be an example of what it looks like when someone decides to care about you and treat you right on purpose, without expecting anything in return but your mutual respect. She would be family. She would be [Queer] Family. I would see to it that she knew she could call on me when she needed a friend.

But like.

This asshole has invited me to hang out with Trump supporters on multiple occasions.

We ain't gonna be friends.

[paint-music-with-me]

.

[darkkitty1208]

This art has been on my mind since I saw it, so... *drops this* *runs away*

~

It's a new thing, this relationship of theirs. Serizawa has never felt more nervous or thrilled about anything in his life.

Reigen and him are, well... a thing, now, he supposes. They've never really talked about putting a label on it, but what he's sure of is that they're definitely past calling each other friends and most definitely past what Reigen used to make him assume is a normal, professional coworker-to-coworker relationship. Which for the record, their previous so-called coworker dynamic wasn't exactly the conventional kind.

There's only one problem, though. Despite going out for dates sometimes, staying over each other's apartments, holding hands and sharing meals and kissing a few times... perhaps kissing a lot of times—neither of them have ever really... confessed. The traditional kind. With the three, simple words that seemed so climactic in romance movies.

It's not like he's afraid that Reigen won't say them back—their time spent together is proof enough that his feelings are reciprocated—but it's just that... the words feel too precious. Too intimate. Something meant to be reserved for grand, special moments. Something climactic. Like in romance movies.

Sometimes Serizawa finds himself holding the words back. They’re always in the simpler moments, too ordinary for something that holds far too much meaning. In evenings where they cuddle on the couch as the TV drones on, neither of them really watching. In times where Reigen laughs or smiles—the genuine kind, not just the ones he puts on display for clients—and Serizawa finds himself breathless at the sight.

In times like this, after they've gone out of their usual bar with one too many drinks; or at least, Serizawa drank three glasses of whiskey and is a little tipsy but holding himself pretty well, and Reigen drank a non-alcoholic lemon sour and is currently tripping balls.

It's raining when they left, and Serizawa's glad he has an umbrella on himself at all times. When they're sharing it like this, under the canopy that is the umbrella, clumsily making their way back to Reigen’s, he can't help but be hyper-aware of their proximity. The way the three words wait at the tip of his tongue, desperate for release. 

Reigen's babbling. Loudly, so he could speak over the rain, but Serizawa isn't really listening anyway. He's too busy tracing the lines of his face with his eyes, the barely comprehensible jumble of words coming out of those lips. There's something endearing about Reigen like this, slightly disheveled and hilariously talkative. More so than usual, really, but Serizawa has never had a problem with that to begin with.

Maybe it's the liquid courage in his bones. Maybe it's because he's not just a little tipsy. But this time, Serizawa finds he can't hold those three, precious words back.

"I love you," he blurts out before he knows it. And then the realisation hits him—deliberately, as the alcohol in his system slows everything to a trickle—and immediately begins to panic. "I— I mean, you— you don't need to say it back or anything, it's just—"

"I love you, too."

Serizawa's head turns to look downwards so quickly he has to reel himself in from the whiplash. There, under the shade of the umbrella, the gentle orange light from the streetlamp overhead casting a glow behind him, with a light dusting of pink on his cheeks that could be from the chill or the alcohol or... something else, stands Reigen, staring back at him with parted lips and a look of something like wonder.

"I love you, too," he repeats, slightly lower enough he would've missed it amidst the loud rain if not for how close they are, and Serizawa feels his own cheeks heat up.

Reigen's pupils remain steadily on his face as Serizawa's dart around to search his, and the next moment, they're kissing. He doesn't know who initiated it first; he leans down the same time Reigen reaches up on his tip toes, and their lips meet like it's the most natural thing in the world.

Distantly, he hears the clink of the umbrella as it slips from his hold and onto the wet ground, but he can't bring himself to care enough about the downpour subsequently wetting their suits and hair when Reigen's hand reaches up to cup his jaw. He can't bring himself to care enough about the chill that goes down his spine from the cold when Reigen angles their heads to deepen the kiss, pressing their bodies flush to each other until all Serizawa can think about is every point of contact between them. The way they mold together into one piece. Like two, perfectly fitting puzzles; made for each other.

His hands find themselves gripping onto Reigen's waist, trailing one backwards to the small of his back and up along a shoulderblade to push Reigen impossibly closer. His heart is thundering loudly in his chest that he's almost sure Reigen can hear it even with the rain loudly beating against the concrete.

It feels a little cliché. Like he's in one of those B-rated romcom movies Reigen likes to put on sometimes. It’s something he’s imagined so many times. It doesn’t feel as climactic as he had expected, if anything he feels the same way to Reigen as he had before, and it’s not anything he would even consider particularly special, but it still makes butterflies erupt in his stomach and his heart burst like confetti. It’s perfect. He wonders stupidly why he’s waited so long to say those words. 

It must be ridiculous to an outsider; two businessmen, fully suited but drenched from head to toe with rainwater, kissing under the rain as an umbrella lays casually on the ground beside them.

Serizawa can't help it, then—he pulls back, a sudden giddiness bubbling in his stomach and rising up his throat, and he giggles. He can barely blink his eyes open, assaulted as they are by the rain, but he can still make out the look of slight surprise in Reigen's face before he, too, is giggling.

And now this must look even more ridiculous to an outsider than before, and that just makes him giggle even harder.

He's breathless by the time Reigen wraps his arms around his neck, pulling his head back down until their laughter mingles together in the slight space between them and their wet foreheads bump to the other's. He can't tell whether he's tearing up or not from how hard he's laughing as the rain continues to drip down his face. Reigen only seems to pull them closer together.

"God, look what you've done to my suit," Reigen loudly complains, shoving his shoulder playfully with a sluggish hand. "We're so drunk. This is ridiculous."

Serizawa's laughter has reduced to small, rumbled chuckles now. With a gentle direction of his fingers, he floats the umbrella back up to hold it above them.

"Sorry," he says, but grinning still. 

“Oh, won't you kiss me on the mouth and love me like a sailor?

And when you get a taste, can you tell me what's my flavor?

I don't believe in God, but I believe that you're my savior

My mom says that she's worried, but I'm covered in this favor…”

——————————————————————————

Hi tumblr, it’s been a bit but I wanted to share this today! So take SeriRei but kissing in the rain

[grenriv]

I wish I didn't feel so violently alienated from my own religion sometimes. like I really do believe in what I believe in and I want to have a better and deeper relationship with God and I would like to build relationships with other christians and then whenever I hear other people talking about doctrine/scripture/God it just feels. so cold to me. or even just the way they act in general. it's very hard to explain but it always sounds like they're reading from a script instead of voicing genuine thoughts and feelings and it makes me feel like there's a barrier between me and them or I'm doing something horribly wrong, even if at the root of it I do agree with what's being said

[oveliagirlhaditright]

So, I don't know if I'm ever going to watch the 5th Wave movie based on reviews I've seen for it now (even though I also feel bad saying this--and think maybe I should--because I'm also someone who thinks you should judge things for yourself), but I have watched a few amvs for it... and just based on that (though I admit that that might not be a fair metric to base it on), I do agree with people who think that Evan Walker was miscast (it also might have been direction issues). He just seems too earnest to me? Too trustworthy? And that's sort of a problem, of course, because you needed to have so many moments in the film where you didn't know if you could trust the guy or not. And based on the scenes I've seen, he doesn't seem mysterious/sketchy enough. He also doesn't give off the vibes where Cassie was like, "I'm going to kill Evan Walker!" because he was pissing her off so much. IDK. -shrugs-

[leandra-kinard]

I can see your point that there's a clash of intention/topic here from your perspective. However, for me it was an opportunity to make a connected/related "counter" point (also not solely aimed at your original post but the added screenshot as well), because I also feel posts like yours could - under certain circumstances and through certain readings - be adding to a general harsher rift between the two factions than necessary. I'm definitely not saying that was your attention, but personally it's something that, let's say, slightly miffed me about this whole conversation a couple of times now, in a variety of posts.

I do understand why you think I should have made my own post on it, rather than adding to yours. But then again, I do enjoy a conversation and polite debate rather than just "ranting to the void". I believe it can be very beneficial to those engaging in such a debate in good faith and the ones reading it. But that's my POV. So I guess this is where we both clash in our preferences on how to add/debate or not debate/add to such posts, and that is fine.

Regarding the main points you made, you know how you meant it and what context you brought it up from - so in that regard it's fully valid - but some people may take it as "Ah look, this person, too, says the Buddies are homophobic (in general/often)". Tumblr reading comprehension and all, you know?

I am also definitely not saying you are erasing anyone's experience. I'm just saying, in general, this tendency to point to homophobia sometimes does that - albeit unintentionally, I assume. It is a bit of a slippery slope, imho, because sometimes the people expressing their wishes for a specific type of queer story (like what they imagine Buddie could have been like) are queer people who have made those very experiences or similar ones themselves - lesbians who fell on love with their best friend and finally gave up on comphet behavior, or people who believed themselves to be straight and realized they were bi after all (not dissimilar to Buck). I know you're not saying these people all come from a place of homophobia, but I personally see a risk of it being read that way. Of people falling into that mentioned trap of dismissing ANY pro-Buddie sentiment as homophobic /otherwise problematic.

So, regarding the last statement you quoted, this was meant more generally to the Bucktommy fandom and not per se you or your post. We are not having a private conversation here, we are doing it in front of an audience who will approach both what you and I are saying with highly individual biases and viewpoints.

There is no issue with the things you said per se, but imho the risk of certain takeaways that I have already seen expressed callously by other people, e.g. "Most of the Buddies are straight women who are deeply homophobic" or similar.

The whole Silken debacle is cringe AF, and embarrassing for the whole 911 fandom. And we really do not have to talk about some of the much more vile and toxic things that were said and done. I am in absolute and full agreement to call those instances out and, like you, am disappointed to not see enough of such calling out from the Buddie fans. That is highly regrettable and cowardly.

I also understand (through posts like yours even more deeply than I already did before, as a 44 year old queer woman who lived with a gay guy for many years and has known many gay men), that many especially young shippers have a sort of watered-down image of the "ideal gay relationship" that isn't reflective of reality. There's nothing wrong with having certain preferences when it comes to reading and writing fic, but there IS something wrong with painting things outside of that comfort zone as icky or bad (like all that shitty discourse on Tommy being predatory and similar stupid takes).

In years of shipping and engaging in fandom I've seen takes that were bordering on or veering into (unintentional) homophobia, or rather bigotry towards gay men in particular, because so much of it is based on a sexually/romantically inexperienced and predominantly female perspective. There's a difference between how lesbians and gay men live out their sexuality and love life - at least in tendency - and it's important to acknowledge that and, as you said, read up on gay culture if one isn't too familiar with some things. Or to simply acknowledge that many preferences and approaches are valid and good, and, as you said, here's not a limit to what kinds of queer representation should be present in popular media.

Anyway, I also appreciate that you replied calmly and in good faith. Just to make it clear again, I do not disagree with the things you said or with pointing out these particular examples. I just personally think it is important to also remember (and remind others - the "audience" of these debates) not to generalize as a takeaway from these very valid observations.

the more and more time i spend on tumblr and come across insane Buddie takes and behavior, the more and more i am convinced that the small, vocal, toxic subsection of shippers who don't know how to behave are, how shall i say it?

homophobic

they don't seem to actually like gay men. the situation with richard siken is an example of that. what they appear to like is their made-up version of what gay men are like and what they do. there's no concept of nuance or an actual understanding of queerness that informs their ship.

and i don't think you do need to understand it. sometimes you can just enjoy something without looking into it differently. but if you're going to be out on main talking about Buddie this and Buddie that, then you absolutely need to do the bare minimum and inform yourself on gay culture and gay issues so you don't, you know, go after a gay poet because you didn't like his tone.

sorry, there's a reason gay men of his demographic don't take shit. it's because they took so much shit that a large percentage of them died. the ones that survived don't owe you a tone when you act like an idiot.

the internet is free. wikipedia is free.

use a search engine and educate yourself, just a tiny little bit, and stop fetishizing while holding onto homophobic attitudes

[edwardshundredyearoldspunk]

I'm tired of the way we coddle "escapist" media. we act like, by virtue of being a simpler world, it shouldn't be held to the standards that more apparently complex stories are held to. and then, when the creator dares make your "comfort escapist show" have greater emotional stakes people have the audacity to say it's out of character

[bunnys-kisses]

lust is a loaded hand gun

max verstappen

cw: smut/pwp, ferrari!reader, baby fever, seduction, cowgirl position, alcohol/drinking, breeding, the reader wants to have a baby and chooses to have it with max, max is not aware

this bunny runs on comments & reblogs! feed the rabbit!

part 2: love is a kick to the stomach

this sounded stupid. but you wanted a baby. and while that was an easy task for most women, you knew that there was something impersonal about picking from a catalogue. reading profiles felt weird, like you were looking for a used car rather than the biological other half of your child. even if you'd raise them without a father, you'd rather have a night of passion than an awkward doctor's visit.

charles leaned back in his seat and asked, "why don't you and i just make one." he shrugged his shoulders. he considered himself close to you. you had been teammates for a little over two seasons and prior to that you knew each other. he didn't mind being the one to help you bring a child into the world, "i can be his uncle and he'd never know."

but, as close as you were to your teammate. you had other drivers in mind.

you made a face, "no offense, charles. but it would feel like doing it with my brother." being teammates meant you two knew too much about one another. you worked well as teammates and rivals because you were more like siblings. while you appreciated the offer, you felt it was weird.

charles asked, relaxed in his seat, "why are you doing this anyway? isn't there a million ways for you to have a child."

you shrugged, "i want to be a mom, i don't know. leave my seat behind to another woman and let her make all the history. i'm honestly tired. i've reached the peak and now." you sighed, "i want something else. i've got enough money to retire and let my future child retire before they're born." you crossed your arms, "i don't want to be doing this shit until i'm forty and just degrade in the skills department. end on a high note." while it was not an insult to other driver's on the grid. you felt bad that they never got to really be parents due to the schedules.

"so you need to seduce a driver to make that happen."

you nodded, out of the corner of your eye you spotted the driver you had your eye on. while you eyed the man crossing your path, your voice got softer, "and i think i know just the driver."

charles looked over to the direction you were looking at. he noticed who was walking by and he looked back to you, shoulders dropped, "max. you're going to seduce and have a child with max?"

you looked back to charles and shrugged, "why not? what's not to like?" max wasn't a perfect man, sometimes you wondered about the mechanics of his brain. but, you knew your child with him would lay waste to the track in the future.

"i can name a few. do you want them alphabetically or severity of it?" charles asked.

you gave him a look, "it wouldn't be hard to get him to sleep with me. you, me and the rest of the garage has seen how he looks at me. i mean who else do i have to choose from? either they're too old, they're rookies, or they have girlfriends. and i'm not getting a heel in the eye because i'm trying to have a baby."

charles rubbed the bridge of his nose, "i think you just like him."

you tensed up for a moment, "no. this is all just simple. scheming... nothing more. i don't expect to trap him with a child. he is free to live his life after i'm done with him."

charles found it hard to believe. not on your end, but max's. he had heard at sickeningly lengths about how max felt for you. it was probably the most eloquent the driver had ever been. if you got pregnant by him, he'd be getting a ring the next day. he sighed once more, "then have fun with the wold champion. i'd say to be safe, but i think being unsafe is the whole point of this."

you gave the once over of max in the near distance and smiled, "don't worry charles, you'll get all the details in the morning." which earned a groan from your teammate.

-

it started over a bottle of wine and ended in the motor home of red bull. you and max had gotten frisky over the evening. you wondered if anyone was selling the photos of you two in the back of the restaurant to tmz or some other trashy outlet. you had shared two bottles of wine over dinner. the benefit of being as wealthy as you were, you could throw the cash onto the table and giggle as you stumble out of your place.

you knew someone had a photo of max kissing you at the table to 'taste' the sauce that came with your meal. as if he couldn't take some from the plate.

but back in the motor home, you had dropped your purse by the door. in the dark of the place, you two were starting to get undressed. heels kicked to the wall, your bracelets set on the coffee table. your dress was on the floor by the bed, your bra over the lamp by the bed and your panties on the bed.

"i'm on top." you said as you kissed max's lips. he tasted like wine and fine dining. he tasted and smelled expensive. in all fairness he could be worth more than a micro nation. he was not an easy man to buy, but the currency of sex was in high demand. max wanted you, and you knew that because he got on his back without much argument.

you were both naked on the bed. the faint lights gleamed through the large windows as you rubbed up against max with no other lighting. you could see his face against the shadows of the night. his blue eyes were like gems and they pulled you in. whoever he ended up with would be very lucky.

but tonight you needed him. he was an important piece in your plan. you rubbed against him and with a little help, you sank down onto his cock. while cowgirl wasn't the best position to try and get pregnant, but it ensured that your plan would work. any position is a working one.

"you're beautiful."

"i know." you said as you rubbed yourself against him. you braced your hands on his strong chest. he was a handsome man, he was good at what he did and he was a winner. you knew anyone would be lucky to have him, but tonight was the perfect partner. you knew a child with him would be perfect.

you continued to rub up against him. the roll of your hips were methodical. this wasn't the first time you slept with a man. you moaned when max groped your breasts, massaged the flesh between those bear paws he called hands. soon you sank on his cock and shuddered, feeling the heat raise in your belly.

this was a mission, no time to get attached. you were both tipsy from the alcohol and the driver under you were more handsy than ever. you try not to feel the emotions that came with it. the feeling of being attached to someone you were having sex with. you batted charles' assumptions about your feelings for max out of your mind as you rode the dutch driver.

you were determined to get pregnant tonight. you measured it all down to a t, all you needed was for max not to get whiskey dick. you curved your back to get closer to him, your lips met his as you moved up and down. his cock was snug in your, but it went in almost perfect. the blunt head hit against the furthest parts of you. your heart hammered in your chest as you moved your hips.

you pushed hair out of your face before your braced your hands on his chest once more. he was very toned, you almost wanted to joke about what happened to his slightly kinder chocolate addiction. but that was neither here nor there.

"you feel so good." he grunted, "why haven't we done this before? fuck." he panted, he could feel the heat in his cheeks as you rode him. he had been with others before but being under you was a pleasure no money could buy. you were really good at it, knowing exactly how to make him feel good.

"good things take time." you panted, part of you wondered what would happen if you covered his mouth. you didn't need the dirty talk, this was a mission. if you wanted a casual friends with benefits, you'd try something online or another in the paddock. fucking max was a certainly that you'd get pregnant. it didn't have to be intimate or soft. it was a means to an end, and you'd get there no matter what.

the sounds of your fucking filled the room as you continued to move against him. you raked your nails down his chest, catching his nipples which made him moan. he was cute on his back, letting you take over. you wondered how deep his affection for you went.

you didn't want the emotional baggage of it all. tonight you were both drunk and having sex in the motor homes. it would be a one night stand before you two finished out the season. you could feel the heat across your back as you stared at him.

his eyes were closed and his mouth slightly open as he panted heavily. there was heat in his face and you felt something tug in your chest. he was beautiful, you hated to admit it. but max verstappen was a pretty boy.

he was already blissed out, his noises forced you by the movement of your hips. you licked your lips and without thinking, you left a mark on his collarbone. it was stupid, but it excited your further.

you continued to move against him. your breasts bounced with each move of your hips. you felt moans in the back of your throat and a hum in your soul. pleasure was close and it wasn't long before you really worked yourself onto his cock and finished.

the tightness around his cock made max's back arch a little bit. he could feel the heat in the back of his head. his heart pounded as he watched you continue to ride his cock. he panted heavily and soon climaxed as well. you made sure to get everything you could out. you kissed him once more before you stopped. when you pulled away you got off of his waist and laid down on the bed.

"wow." he said out of breath.

you didn't want to talk. instead you turned your head to kiss him on the lips to keep him quiet. there was no time for mushy romantic bedroom talk. you needed him to fall asleep before you could leave.

you tried to count down the seconds, placing kisses across his heated face. you reminded yourself that there would be some lucky enough to keep him for life.

when you pulled away from his lips after one last kiss, he curled up beside you and right then fell asleep. you stayed awake, when the heat cooled in your body. you hoped your mission was a success. the lust and the alcohol still made its rounds in your body. but you were lucid enough to find your clothes in the dark and slip out of the motor home before morning.

you'd never bring up the event to max, only briefly mentioning it to charles. you'd drive harder after that, in the end you'd secure a world championship. as you kissed the trophy and your country's national anthem played, you were already pregnant with your child.

-

your retirement was a shock to max. you could've easily decorated your home with many trophies over the next few years. but at the end of the 2024 season, you bowed out. you thanked fans and told them that it was a new chapter in your life. and then like that you fell off the face of the earth over the off-season.

max tried to find ways to contact you. where did you go? what happened? why leave at the height of it all? the more he thought about it, the more questions were raised in his head. he asked around the paddock, even going as far as to ask charles where you went. the other drive shrugged and told him that you moved back to your home country with a "little extra luggage". there were no social media posts. nothing. it nagged in the back of his brain for what felt like a lifetime. what happened to ferrari's princess?

it wasn't until almost three years later, max had claimed another world championship. it felt like these days he was riding high. he was still the best. but as he walked into the paddock to train for the upcoming season, he stopped in his tracks. he felt like he was splashed with cold water.

there you were, three years older with a glow to you. you were laughing with charles and lewis, you looked different but in a good way. you were in overalls and a ferrari shirt underneath. you were more curvy than you were when you were driving. and while you were still beautiful like the sun, pulling max in. what made his stomach drop was who was in your arms.

a young boy, with big curious eyes and round cheeks. he held onto you tightly, his small fists in the fabric of your shirt. he seemed curious about the track, but not scared of how big it all felt. while max would've assumed that you got married and had a child as a lot of people did. but that's not what had happened.

max knew right away at the first glance of your son. looking at him was like looking at max's childhood photos. even in features that matched your own, your son carried a lot of max in him. the itch in his brain after you fell off the earth all those years ago came back, this was where you went. the boy looked like him and if he was right about the boy's age then dates lined up. there was no question. max verstappen was your son's father. and when you noticed him staring. you simply smiled and gave him a wink, shifting the boy in your arms and pointing at the me. when your son smiled, max felt something in his gut. looking at you, holding your (his) son, made max feel like he was home. and all those feelings he had been carrying poured back into his head and heart. the same emotions that allowed you to bed him. <3

sequel: love is a kick to the stomach

[sakuravalelp]

The Dance Academy isn't a gang- DC X DP Prompt

Inspired by this prompt

Clockwork suggests to Danny, who's been the king of the infinite realms for 6 years now, that he should take sometime off in a mortal realm. He doesn't feel like going back to his own dimension (you choose the reason), so Clockwork suggest another dimension where he thinks Danny might have fun.

Danny investigates the dimension, and finds it is a dimension where some humans, who are called meta-humans, develop powers, mostly during their childhood. Danny knows how tiring and alienating it is to grow with powers that one have to hide. He wishes to give this kids a safe space to experiment with their powers, but not as a weapon, just as part of themself.

He chooses to create a dance academy, because dancing is something in which you use your body and express yourself. It would be an excellent way to encourage this kids to use their powers while enjoying themself. He decides to open the dance academy in Gotham, were it seems metas may feel more pressure to keep themself hidden. With his ability to see and feel the differences in soul it's easy to identify metas, so he starts scouting kids for the academy.

Of course convincing the kids that it's just a a dance academy that wants to create a save space for metas, instead is of a trafficking ring, is difficult. But once he gets the first couple kids in, slowly more come too.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Bruce is worried about the new possible meta gang that it's forming on Gotham, and sends Duke undercover.

It's hasn't been long since Duke joined the bats, and this is his first official undercover mission. He's excited at the start, feeling proud that he's been trusted with an independent job, but then he finds out that the "gang" it's just a dance academy. He's a little disappointed, thinking that this job is more of a probation thing than anything, since there isn't anything suspicious.

The bats tell him to stay in the dance academy, because maybe the dance thing is just a cover up and they'll reveal their real motives when he's actually accepted in the group. And Duke takes it as them wanting him to have a meta support system. See? He's learning to understand how the bats show love to each other!

Duke finds himself enjoying being in a dance group. It's a lot of fun. Danny it's fantastic, he has a lot of powers and isn't scare to show them. Which makes everyone in the group feel so much safer to use their own.

Danny encourages them to integrate their powers in their dance. It's freeing. Their powers are treated as a normal part of them, and not as this exotic ability that has to be controlled. It's such a safe space that all of them have gotten used to using their powers for day to day stuff when in the dance studio. It all feels so casual because no one bats an eye to it. There's no talk about how they should try to do things "normally," or limit their use of their power.

Danny: "Why would you? That's your normal, and this place is safe for you to just be you."

Duke realizes a bit late that the bats were actually suspicious of the group, and that his placement there wasn't really a probation. He's glad to know he was actually trusted with a job, but, he had really thought that every time they had asked about his day with the group was because they were interested in how he was doing. That they were showing love and interest in him in that evasive ways the bats did, and it kinda suck to know it wasn't the case. It also meant that he had to confront their family in their clear meta-discrimination.

"Would you have been so suspicious if it wasn't a meta group? No. Other than them all being metas there wasn't anything off. No proof of fights, no proof of robberies, no proof of trafficking, nothing.

There's no proof of anything other than a group of teens dancing, and you know that because you checked it out before sending me.

Like, I don't blame you for checking it, I'm not naive, but you were so sure it was a gang, just because they were metas. That's fucked up guys."

[sn4pping]

"Thank    you,"    the    young    woman    smiled    an    honest    smile.    His    words    meant    something    to    her    and    it    wasn't    something    she    would    take    for    granted.    She    had    never    thought    that    her    future ��  husband    could    be    so    kind    and    caring.    He    didn't    have    to    be.    "The    same    goes    for    you.    I'll    always    have    your    back,    no    matter    what."    And    she    meant    it.    Whatever    path    Edwin    decided    to    take,    she    would    do    her    best    to    have    his    back    and    support    him    in    any    way    she    could.    She    would    never    expect    him    to    fall    in    love    with    her,    or    for    something    more    than    friendship    to    develop    between    them.    But    to    respect    and    like    each    other    was    more    than    she    could    have    ever    hoped    for.    And    maybe    it    was    his    kindness    that    made    her    blush    and    react    so    easily.    "Bad?    No,    not    at    all.    I    can    promise    you,    if    you    ever    make    me    feel    uncomfortable,    I'll    tell    you    right    away.    No    beating    around    the    bush.    So    if    I    may    say    so:    I    don't    often    get    compliments    from    handsome    men,    so    forgive    my    reaction."    She    touched    her    hot    cheek    with    the    back    of    her    hand,    just    hoping    to    cool    it    down    a    bit.    "You    should    really    try    the    eggnog.    It's    a    little    heavy    on    the    alcohol    sometimes,"    she    mused,    her    eyes    widening    a    bit.    "Espresso?    Really?    Doesn't    it    taste    a    little    bitter?    Never    tried    it,    but    we    have    a    favorite    in    common.    That's    a    good    start,    isn't    it?"

Edy appreciated his Indian heritage, where these traditions were steeped in centuries of familial expectation. However, he also carried a modern mindset that set him apart from many relatives who clung to conventional values like an anchor to weighted line. For Edy, life meant more than just fulfilling duties; it was about forging meaningful connections and finding joy in every moment. He envisioned their relationship blossoming beyond societal norms: sharing dreams over cups of chai late into the night or collaborating on plans to travel and explore beyond their burgeoning responsibilities. The idea of her as an equal partner resonated deeply within him; Edy wanted someone who could challenge him intellectually while they navigated their lives together hand-in-hand rather than as mere participants in each other's stories. And for some reason he could really see their relationship blossom when he looked at Hatice. “We’ll decide together and no matter what our families think of it, I’ll always have your back.” It wasn’t just an empty promise and he hoped, she could see the honesty in his eyes. Looking at her blushed cheeks and considering her words, he felt both happy and a little insecure about the fact he’d caused that reaction in her. “I hope that’s not a bad thing? I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.” Edy admitted with a soft smile upon his lips as he locked his eyes with hers again. “I’m not too superficial to be honest. But still, you’re beautiful, so you don’t have any reason to worry about that anyway.” He didn’t want her to think he was all about looks and yet felt the need to point out she was indeed gorgeous. “Oh really? I never tried eggnog before. Might have to give it a go then. Mango and chocolate are definitely great choices. Nothing wrong with vanilla but my favorites are salted caramel and espresso.”

[trans-leek-cookie]

im thinking abt cozy horror bc. Post. Anyways it's interesting cause initially I kinda get the idea? Bc a fascination I've had is like... Casual? Body horror. Idk if casual is the correct word, but stuff generally considered to be body horror that isn't painful. But that on its own is more down to singular things- like, body horror is more often a single piece of art, or a single aspect of a larger horror. It's a different form of horror than horror as a genre in a way (like transformation horror- there can be a single piece of art or character who's half animal or something, but when in a larger horror it comes down to the sensation of it and portraying that rather than simply the visual aspect) I'm losing track of this so I'll say Body Horror is more of a visual medium and style which describes the body existing or being changed unnaturally, and while it can be and often is used in the Horror Genre (as in stories) it is also used on it's own for purposes more Aesthetic than Horrifying (not exclusive, but there's body horror I want to be Uncomfortable vs just Interesting Visuals/Sensations) ANYWAY. Trying to get back on track. Body Horror is obviously common in horror but I'd also argue sometimes is just an Art Genre that isn't mean to be As Upsetting as Horror as a Genre. Which gives room to body horror that is casual or normal or whatever, and in some cases is only horror due to the majority of ppl being uncomfortable with it, when the creator might not be aiming for it to be Upsetting. I got distracted anyways I thought for a sec I got what cozy horror like, was, but then it broke my brain and. WTF do ppl even mean by cozy horror