#when race is irrelevant don’t bring it up

[vampireistic]

the problem with natlan / sumeru

warning: long post

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to preface this i’d like to say that i’m in no ways an expert in the topics present, i’m just an autistic dumbass with too much time on his hands who enjoys a bit of research — i’m in no way, shape or form trying to belittle players who are excited for the update, by all means i hope you enjoy it, i’m just trying to give criticism.

you can enjoy/play a game while criticising it simultaneously.

when it comes to the topic of racial diversity and a company like hoyoverse that’s based in china, there’s quite a lot of political baggage that comes along with it. while i’ll try my best to go over that, i’m afraid i can only give a very limited eastern european perspective on it and i’ll certainly get things wrong or misinterpret things — if you’d like a more thorough view on the politics, please go read the post made by @zeichannnnn (hope you don’t mind the tag my love)

firstly, i’ll be going over general misconceptions, ridiculous excuses and or stereotypes that i’ve seen commonly come up in this conversation.

any and all screenshots will have usernames cut off for privacy, i want to maintain a civilised discussion and not cause argument.

a lot of my critiques are more so towards the attitude the fandom has when it comes to this argument and their blatant colourism. as my friend above says, no one ever complained about characters in liyue/inazuma being paper white despite the fact realistically, no one in EA is that colour naturally. this of course stems from the beauty standards but that’s a discussion for later on.

the point is that if say a nation like liyue, had the same skin colour as a character like xinyan (who hails from liyue and has a liyue name) people would undoubtedly be upset. so why is it that when in terms of nations that are based off countries with a darker skin colour variety, complaining about the characters being white is seen as a problem?

culture isn’t defined by racial diversity, but when you’re monetising off the representation of different countries cultures, the very least you can do is show the actual diversity within said culture instead of slapping a cultural name on a white model (cue that one picture of the egyptian dude who looks like a plain american).

the idea that because it’s fantasy or anime, having black characters is surreal or improbable is rooted in white supremacy’s hold over unfair beauty standards as well as just the general consensus that black people are less desirable in media. which is completely false.

characters like dehya have proven that a character’s race is irrelevant when it comes to likeness, given the fact the chinese community ended up donating to charities because of said characters story.

the reason why the lightly toasted characters appear tan to you is because the rest of the cast is so horrifically pale (nahida’s hex code is #FFF7F1, cyno’s is #EEC6A6 which when placed next to each other may look like a big difference, but in reality the colours are on the same side of the colour wheel only a few spaces apart).

hoyoverse does in fact use culture as a mere aesthetic and costume to plant on white models. that is NOT to say they misrepresent culture entirely: this post goes over how hoyoverse is perfectly capable of doing impressive research to bring forth forgotten or unknown bits of culture.

even aside from the problems with racial diversity, the character design department has been known to completely fail when it comes to accurate representation. from the sexualisation of the kimono in characters like raiden shogun (which even the eastern part of the fandom have been upset about) to the character of yunjin where the chinese player based believed she was more like a lolita inspired caricature than a real depiction. they don’t understand how to mingle tradition with modernism.

in all fairness, it is difficult — and i will praise the game for making natlan much more technologically advanced and vibrant than people were expecting because having the one nation that’s based off africa and indigenous people be a wasteland would’ve ultimately been a problem. personally, i even love the slight mashup of “tribes” and the pokémon esque aesthetic — its new, and a smart way to bring two things together.

same thing cannot be said for how hyv ignores the fact darker people of colour are also significant when it comes to the building of culture.

please read over these that go more into depth about problems:

natlan being an amalgamation of three separate countries/cultures.

misrepresenting both continents natlan’s based from

another thing that’s always bothered me is the excuses people used in sumeru about the presentation of characters that were based off real people; specifically, kusanali.

yes, she’s based off a hindu moon goddess who’s described as pale and sure that could’ve been the reason she’s nearly the colour white — but how come candace, who’s based off kandake, a fully black woman, is presented as being slightly tan? you can’t pick and choose what you represent and honestly the idea that nahida’s character is supposed to be a depiction of the moon goddess is disrespect to the goddess herself (please go look at a singular picture of her and you’ll understand the utter tragedy).

hoyoverse also has a bit of a history with both whitewashing their slightly tan characters (nekomiya from zoneless zen zero, arlan from honkai star rail etc) but i think one of their biggest proofs of disrespect comes to carole pepper from hi3.

now, this is not at all me saying you can’t present female characters as very muscular — no. in fact, i would’ve loved if characters like beidou had a similar sort of build. but out of all the characters you could’ve chosen to give this to, you chose a black woman.

would this be a problem if it continued with other characters? not really. the issue lies within the fact the ONLY mother in game who’s presented as buff and “masculine looking” is a black woman — something that’s quite literally a stereotype against black women who are regarded as “naturally less feminine” than white women.

eastern beauty standards

the assertion that eastern beauty standards prevent the inclusion of black characters in video games is not only invalid but also reflects deeper issues of bias and systemic exclusion in the gaming industry. this argument is flawed for several reasons, including the diversity of beauty standards in eastern cultures, the global nature of the gaming market, and the responsibility of creators to reflect and promote inclusivity.

to claim that eastern beauty standards universally exclude black characters oversimplifies and homogenizes the diverse beauty ideals present in countries like japan, south korea, and china. these cultures are not monolithic and have their own histories and contemporary movements that embrace a variety of appearances.

creators in the gaming industry have a responsibility to reflect the diversity of the real world and promote inclusivity. video games are a powerful medium that can shape perceptions, challenge stereotypes, and foster empathy. by including black characters, game developers can contribute to a more inclusive and equitable society. this requires intentionality and a commitment to representation that goes beyond mere tokenism. the argument that eastern beauty standards prevent such inclusion suggests a lack of willingness to challenge existing norms and expand the narrative possibilities within games. hoyoverse have themselves stated in their mission statement that their goal is to show inclusivity.

that’s not to say it’s not clear that china’s beauty standards have unfortunately affected the gaming market: but for a game that brandishes itself on localising itself for a global audience (meaning, outside of its region), it’s a poor excuse. those standards aren’t universal and shouldn’t be used as gateway into designing.

once again, i am NOT at all very well versed in politics especially one that’s overseas (well, next door neighbour in a way) so i definitely will misinterpret or misunderstand things unintentionally and if i do, i’m really sorry.

historical nihilism to me doesn’t relate to black people, just actual story events (hence why hoyoverse had to put a warning label for fontaine that the events presented didn’t represent that of the real world and any similarities were mere coincidence). black people existing isn’t regarded as “politically harmful” neither is it an extraordinary idea — it’s just another group of people.

although, the CCP has a MASSIVE history about their demonisation and hatred of black people therefore, even without the idea that the censorship stems from something like historical nihilism, it’s likely something to do with individual prejudice.

politically, i can semi-understand why hoyoverse is in a tight space for racial diversity. but that doesn’t mean i’m willing to baby a company that profits billions worth of profit from other cultures that they misrepresent and i’m even less inclined to hold the hands of hoyoverse dickriders who believe people complain about race just solely to whine. it’s a real systemic issue, and one that’s prevalent in a multitude of games aside from genshin.

people from the cultures presented are rightfully upset and they shouldn’t be told to just “accept”mediocrity. it’s their culture and identities being ridiculed, it’s their identities being profited from for the sake of aesthetics for a game that preaches inclusivity to the people that are willing to ignore its prejudice.

hell, even as a polish person, just thinking about what they’ll do with snezhnaya upsets me even if it’s not racially based — once again, the media emphasises the idea that eastern europe / slavic culture is purely russia meanwhile they steal little things from all of the surrounding countries in eastern europe (won’t forget the fact they changed that password thing in sumeru from “ravioli” to “pierogi”).

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TL;DR hoyoverse uses other people’s cultures and identities as an aesthetic and proceeds to profit off of it while misrepresenting the sample of people they chose to depict and while a political argument can be made in this regard, ultimately the backlash from people rightfully feeling unjustified in the lack of racial diversity is what amplifies these colourist attitudes: and while hoyoverse has seemingly much more legal repercussions to commit to their idea of diversity, the fandom has no excuse for their disregard of different identities.

also just a funny thing my friend and i did to show just how white these characters are lol

“ blackwashing “ versus “ whitewashing “

i feel like i need to add this little section too because i know there will be a lot of people that draw or reimagine the characters in a variety of different skin tones, and i know a lot of people will be upset (usually it’s just the lowlife weebs who cry at the thought of a black woman being in the same room as them).

historically, media, including video games and anime, have predominantly featured pale-skinned characters, often neglecting the representation of people of color. this lack of diversity reinforces a narrow view of beauty and heroism, contributing to the systemic exclusion of non-white individuals. blackwashing helps to rectify these historical imbalances by providing a broader spectrum of racial representation. it challenges the default assumption that characters must be pale-skinned and introduces audiences to a more inclusive range of appearances.

representation matters profoundly in media. seeing characters that reflect one's own identity can have significant positive effects on self-esteem and cultural pride. blackwashing creates opportunities for black audiences to see themselves in roles and narratives traditionally dominated by pale-skinned characters.

critics (once again, youtube creators and tiktok lmao) of blackwashing often argue that it disrespects original character designs or cultural contexts. however, the impact of changing a character's skin tone is minimal compared to the harm caused by whitewashing. whitewashing often erases the cultural significance of non-white characters, perpetuating stereotypes and denying the rich diversity of the source material. blackwashing, in contrast, does not erase cultural identities but rather enhances the inclusivity of the media. it provides a more diverse and representative depiction without detracting from the character's original essence or storyline.

in addition, usually when a character is black in fantasy media or even just an anime/game with a lore based story, it’s because their race is significant to who they are (i.e tiana from princess and the frog who faces racial discrimination — without her being a person of colour, this storyline and the events that follow wouldn’t make sense).

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i’m sorry for such a long and probably nonsensical rant, but this has bothered me into absolute oblivion especially the community’s response to the uproar of people who rightfully critique and are upset by the company.

[lecl3rcw]

MAGIC IN YOUR VEINS

pairings: Charles Leclerc x sister!reader

summary: Charles comforts his favorite sibling.

warnings: badly translated French, sibling fights, Arthur being a lil mean, just a little tho.

author’s note: this is a lil disappointing, also Thankyou guys so much for 50 followers💗

song recs: none:(

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She didn’t know how a small comment of hers escalated to a full blown argument between her and Arthur.

“Arthur you know I didn’t mean it like that!” She tries to defend herself, “Oh cut the bullshit Y/N, you know how I feel when anyone compares me to Charles, you off all people should know” he yells really upset with his sister’s comment.

“I was just joking! I didn’t Intentionally compare you to him” she sighs out, putting her hand on her face, a little distressed. “No you always have to bring this up, and it’s funny because you’re probably the biggest failure out of all 4 of us, Enzo is starting his own business, Charles is a F1 driver, I’m an F2 driver, meanwhile you can’t even pass a grade 11 exam” he says, finally finishing his rant getting the anger and frustration of his stressful week out.

Her mouth was wide open as tears were visible in his eyes, sure her and Arthur exchanged insults but never had they fought this seriously. “Why are you crying? Cant handle it when it’s directed at you?��� He says, “I’m sorry Arthur” she whispered before running to her room and locking the door.

She felt guilty, she wasn’t upset at him because he gave her a taste of her own medicine but it did sting, hearing someone she genuinely looked up to call her a failure was a statement she could never shake off. Although it hurt, it also made her realize that he was right. Once Arthur was cooled down, he did apologize to the girl and she did as well, but despite saying sorry, his words rang in her head. She vowed to herself that she was going to pass this test without anyone’s help no matter what.

“Do you guys know what’s been up with your sister?” Pascale asks placing food on the table, “What do you mean Maman?” Charles asks looking up from his phone, his next race was 3 weeks away so he was happy to spend time with his family, “I don’t know, she seems really distant” their mutters, “I heard she has a big test tomorrow , maybe she’s stressed out?” Lorenzo said, “yeah perhaps, but I would appreciate if you guys could talk to her and make her feel better” she says, the two sibling nodded their heads.

Charles was walking up to his bedroom but he noticed soft music coming from his sister’s room, curiously, he walked in only to find his sister’s head resting on the desk, the dim light of the lamp was the only thing lighting her room up, her papers scattered across her desk. He softly smiled at her, he placed a sweet kiss on her head before turning the light off and letting his sister sleep.

The next morning the girl jerked up in panic, she wasn’t supposed to be sleeping, she was supposed to be preparing for her test. “I’m so fucked” she says her hands on her head. She checks the time and she quickly gets ready to go to school.

“Hey Chérie” Pascale says, “Goodmorning maman” she says rubbing her eyes tiredly, “you alright?” Pascale asks the girl in concern, “I’m good ma, I was supposed to study but I fell asleep” she says, “Oh you’ll do great my love” she says as she goes to give her daughter a tight hug, being in her mother’s arms bright the younger girl a lot of comfort, “I love you Maman, I should be leaving” she says breaking the hug, she gave her a smile before heading out the door.

The rest of the day went by in a blur, after giving her test she actually felt confident, the smile that the past few weeks stole from her made its way back on her face, now all she had to do was wait till 5:00 pm for her results. Charles texted her saying that he could pick her up to which she happily responded.

“Hi Chérie! How was your day” Charles asks, “it was alright” she responds, the siblings talked about irrelevant things the rest of the way, jamming to music, Charles even bought Y/N some food as the two shared the meal. She felt really happy that Charles wanted to spend time with her as he was such a busy man. Unfortunately for her tho, her interactions with Arthur had died down since he was never home, either with his friends or with Carla, which made her really sad.

It was 5:03 when the siblings made it home, “I’m gonna go check my score Charles, I’ll be right back!” She says, “wait! Bring your laptop here, we will check it together” Charles says wanting to be as supportive as ever to which she was more than thankful for.

“Ok…so what did you get” He asks her, the minute she looks her heart drops to her stomach, she felt nauseous, the exhaustion of so many weeks of not sleeping and eating properly catching up to her, she was upset beyond repair, and Arthur’s voice calling her a failure started echoing In her mind.

“I’m a failure” she says mindlessly, before burrying her face in her hands. “What? No you’re not” He says grabbing the laptop. “Oh my god. I’m a screwup” she says as sobs start racking her body, Charles immediately wraps his arms around the girl tightly, her face still in her hands. “I’m so dumb, I studied for nothing” she says as places her head against his shoulder.

“Y/N you’re not a failure, who told you that” Charles says caressing her hair, “It dosent matter Charles, the test results tell me everything I need to know” she says tears still running down her face, “why can’t I be more like you, or Arthur, or Enzo” she wails out, “You’re not a failure Y/N, everyone has ups and downs, you can’t base your worth on test scores, or people’s opinions” he says tightening his hold on her, she stayed quiet wanting him to continue. “You can’t be perfect all the time Chérie, and whoever told you that you’re a failure is probably a failure themselves” Charles says getting a little mad that someone (Arthur) called his sister a failure.

“But-” “no buts, You tried Y/N and that’s what matters, you didn’t give up, everyone has bad days, but you can’t let a test score hold this much power over you” he finishes, she sniffles wiping her nose, “you’re right, I’m sorry, maybe this was a bit of an overreaction” she says, feeling a bit embarrassed, “No never apologize for showing emotions, you were disappointed and that’s ok, use this disappointment as motivation, you’re going to kick that next test’s ass” he says shaking her shoulders as she lets out a laugh. “ I love you Charlie” she mumbled giving him a final hug that he reciprocated, “I love you more” he says. “Now tell me, who said you were a failure? I’ll give them a piece of my mind, I’ll get Arthur on them too” he says confidently,

“………”

[papaya-twinks]

Helluuu!!

May I ask for Lando X reader where they used to date but Lando kinda cheated on reader who is still friend with mostly on the drivers and she goes to a race with her new boyfriend (someone like Benjamin Pavard, the football player or Jude Bellingham) and Lando is so jealous cause he is still madly in love with her???

Thank you soooo muchhhhhhh ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Warnings: Smut, 18+, cheating, angst

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader

A/N - I’m doing the new boyfriend as Kacper Urbanski (he’s FIT in my eyes and he’s my age 🤪 but I don’t speak Polish so LIVE WITH IT GRRRR 👿)

How could someone be so stupid? Somehow, both you and Lando and that question. How could you be so stupid to ever believe Lando when he told you he wouldn’t cheat? When here he was, bringing in another woman whilst you were asleep in the other room. And for Lando, how could he be so stupid to cheat on you?

“Kacper?” you walked into the kitchen, seeing your boyfriend standing there. “Hey,” he smiled to you as you walked in, wrapping your arms round his waist. “Ready to go?” you nodded to his question, clutching your paddock pass. You hadn’t been to a race since Bahrain at the start of 2024, at the very end of the day, when you’d found out he was cheating. Lando. 

Your relationship with Lando had been public, and neither was your current one with Kacper. But you’d be using the Grand Prix as the perfect opportunity to spill to the world about Kacper, Lando was irrelevant. Thankfully, your friendship with Oscar had remained, if not strengthened, as he knew of the incident, and he’d invited you to watch the race. 

Yes, you’d be in close proximity to Lando, but you’d be able to stay away from him with ease. “Who the fuck is he?” Lando asked, walking up to one of the engineers is his garage as he saw a man walk in…with you. It felt like the first time he’d seen you, actually. 

He fell in love with your eyes first, his gaze now landing on your pretty Y/E/C eyes. His eyes roved over you, his face mutated into a scowl at the sight of Kacper by your side. “Some footie player, Kacper Urbanski,” the engineer shrugged. The name sounded almost displeasurable to a Lando (no hate to Kacper, he’s hot 🥵🥵🥵🥵) as he stared. 

You caught his eyes, your eyes half widening at the sight of Lando as you walked straight through the garage and to Oscar’s. “Just saw someone,” Lando muttered vaguely, walking into Oscar’s part of the garage. “Hey mate,” Oscar said, residing an eyebrow. “Gonna to speak to someone,” Kacper said, standing a few feet from Lando and Oscar. 

“Hey,” Lando said nonchalantly, looking at his teammate. “Why’s Y/N here?” he asked, almost a frown on his face as he watched you from the corner of his eyes. You still didn’t notice him, too caught up gossiping with some engineers. And then, there it was. Your eyes locked with Lando’s, and a sort of spark erupted inside of you. 

You broke the eye contact first, turning your head away, much to the dismay of Lando. He didn’t consider himself a terribly bold person, but suddenly, now he had the energy to finally speak. “Y/N,” he said, standing behind you as you internally groaned. “Lando,” you nodded, turning round, noticing the small flinch from him at your cold, harsh tone. 

“Why are you here?” that was the only question Lando could bring himself to ask you. “I just am,” you said, “is that an issue?”. He shook his head, eyes slightly narrowing at your dismissive tone, before an engineer called him over to prep for the race. You ended up going back to Oscar’s side of the garage, watching the race. 

You were slightly surprised at the result, Max, who rarely ever made a mistake, colliding into Lando, resulting in the McLaren man getting a DNF. You weren’t sure how or why you ended up in Lando’s room, his body pressed flush against your, fireproofs discarded onto the floor, nothing but your bra and skirt on your body, the skirt rode up over your ass. 

“Fuck, Lando,” your voice came out shaky, his hips rocketing into yours, the thrusts slamming into you as your body shook. He had you bent over the massage bed in his room, your head pulled slightly back by his hand on your neck, his other hand on your stomach, the feeling of the bulge in your stomach gliding along his hand as he hammered into you. 

“So proud of you,” he groaned, the knot in your stomach building up for the third time, your eyes rolling. Your words filtered into moans as he pounded into you, the entire bed and consequently the wall, shaking. People definitely knew what was going on. Your boyfriend? 

He was of no consequence. He’d gone off with one of his friends into another garage, and you couldn’t care less, all your attention focused on the man behind you, his hand pulling your back against his chest, your eyes rolling as your moans echoed, his own cum spilling into thick ropes inside of you as he slowed down, thrusts sloppy. 

“You never should’ve left,” he groaned, still inside of you. “You never should’ve cheated,” the word ‘cheated’ melted into a shriek as he slammed his hips into you once, your eyes rolling. “Bad idea,” he said, rocking his hips into you again, knot building up faster. “Shouldn’t have opened that pretty mouth,” he huffed, pumping in and out of you. 

[azzibuckets]

For the Love of the Game [Pazzi | Part 8/10]

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

summary: in which the “fake” in fake dating starts to rear its ugly head

a/n: probably the most painful thing i’ve ever written

word count: 2.2k

masterlist w/ all parts

“How was practice?”

Azzi gently stirred the mug of hot chocolate as she carefully brought it over to Paige, who accepted it with a grateful smile.

“Pretty good. Worked on our box and one defense.” Paige brought the mug to her lips but Azzi halted her, leaning over to blow on the steaming liquid first. “Careful. It’s hot.”

The younger girl took a seat on the couch, bringing Paige’s feet onto her lap. This is how their past few nights had looked like - Azzi rubbing Paige’s legs while recounting practice detail by detail, from the conditioning to the drills to the scrimmages. It was slightly exhausting giving such a complete run down of their entire three hour practice, especially since Paige tended to asked questions that seemed irrelevant, making the whole spiel last even longer, but from the way the blonde listened intently, Azzi knew that this was how she was coping.

So these days she’d found herself stopping to take notes during practice, of important things that Geno said or observations she made of their plays, so that Paige would have something interesting to hear about.

“That’s good.” Paige pressed the heel of her foot against Azzi’s thigh, sending her a soft smile. “I missed you today.”

Azzi pinched Paige’s skin, a playful grin on her face. “You just saw me yesterday.”

“I know, but it’s not enough. It gets so lonely in here. Going outside is so tiring with crutches and shit.” Paige leaned her head back, breathing hard. When Azzi didn’t respond, only comfortingly patting her leg, she took it as a sign to continue. “I can’t even hang out with the girls no more because I feel like I’m dragging everyone behind, pathetically limping and trying to catch up.” Paige was on a rant now, her pent up anger seeping through her words. “But then I can’t go out alone, cuz sometimes people will start swarming me like I’m an animal at a zoo, and I can’t even escape because of my stupid leg.”

Paige was heaving now, and she was surprised when she looked down and saw that a wet drop had fallen on the collar of her shirt. Touching her cheek with her fingertips, she’d realized that tears had started to fall. “This is so stupid,” Paige grumbled. “I don’t know why I’m getting emotional over this shit.”

“Hey.” Azzi’s voice was gentle, a soothing balm to Paige’s wounds. “It’s not stupid. I get what you mean. I tore my ACL in high school. People always talk about the obvious struggles like not being able to play and stuff, but they don’t know about all these little things that make even daily life so hard.” She gently swiped her thumb over a tear rolling down Paige’s cheek. “I might have a solution to your problems, though.”

“What?” Paige perked up, suddenly interested.

Azzi smirked. “You’ll have to wait and see.”

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The next day, when Azzi opened the door of Paige’s apartment with the key that she’d been gifted, she came with a shiny wheelchair in tow.

She heard Paige moving around in the bathroom, so she rushed to hide the wheelchair behind the couch before the blonde could step out. The water from the faucet started running, and soon Paige limped out on her crutches.

“Oh my god, you scared me for a second,” Paige laughed.

Azzi slowly winded her arms around the older girl’s waist. “Guess what?”

Paige kissed the corner of Azzi’s mouth, trying to calm her heart that was now racing just from seeing the girl. “What?” But Azzi didn’t respond. She merely grabbed Paige’s crutches with one hand while supporting her waist with the other. She tossed them to the side, laughing at the confusion on Paige’s face.

“Are you gonna magically heal my knee?” Paige asked sarcastically, gripping into Azzi’s elbow for dear life.

“Nope. But today we’re going out, and all you’ll need is this.” Azzi slowly guided Paige to the couch, where she pointed at the wheelchair.

The blonde’s eyes widened. “No way!”

“Yes, way.” Azzi made sure Paige was steadily holding on to the couch before jogging to retrieve the wheelchair. “When I tore my ACL I had the same issue. I felt all pent up in my room but crutches were way too big of a nuisance. So my dad surprised me with a wheelchair and he’d just take me to the park and stuff so I could get some fresh air without having to hobble everywhere.”

Paige situated herself into the wheelchair, still in disbelief at the kind gesture. She felt Azzi run her hands through her hair, collecting and bringing it back, exposing the nape of her neck for her to brush her lips against. “Ready?” she murmured against her skin.

“Fuck yes.”

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Paige never thought she’d be so happy to be in a wheelchair. But here she was, being pushed by Azzi around the Storrs campus, and she’d never felt so giddy.

At first, they walked quietly, without aim. Paige would occasionally point things out and Azzi would respond with a hum. Every so often Azzi would let her fingernails lightly scratch across Paige’s shoulders, a soft reminder of her presence, and both were content.

“Oh my god, Az. There’s ice cream.” Paige turned around and gave such adorable puppy eyes that the dark haired girl could only roll her eyes affectionately and give in. When Paige started quietly chanting, “I scream, you scream, we all scream for ice cream,” Azzi shook her head, marveling at how to everyone else, Paige as a big and intimidating all star athlete, but to Azzi, she was just a dork.

“You wanna share?” Paige asked, studying the menu with the most concentration and thoughtfulness that Azzi had ever seen from her.

“Only if we get mint chip.”

“So you like toothpaste. Gotcha.”

Azzi leaned down to whisper in her ear, “You weren’t saying that last night.” The blonde immediately blushed, recalling how while they’d brushed their teeth last night, Azzi had looked so gorgeous that she couldn’t help herself but kiss her right then and there. Azzi had shrieked and pushed her off, but Paige had chuckled, pressing another toothpastey kiss to her cheek.

But Paige quickly recovered. “Well, anything tastes good when it’s on your lips.” This time it was Azzi’s turn to blush furiously.

For the rest of their “walk,” Paige focused on slurping her ice cream cone, occasionally lifting it up for Azzi to take a bit.

“You ate basically all of it,” Azzi complained once Paige had popped the last piece of cone into her mouth.

“Sorry, I couldn’t hear you asking for a bite from all the way up there,” Paige mocked.

Azzi leaned over the back of the wheelchair, staring at Paige upside down. “You’re an idiot,” she’d laughed as she’d pressed her lips to Paige’s.

“Very nice,” Paige approved once they broke apart. “Like Spider-man.”

The girls heard a high-pitched squeal come from behind them, and they both turned around, surprised to see Leo barreling towards them.“That was so cute!” Paige looked down, noticing the camera in Leo’s hand. “But do you think you could redo that kiss, with everything exactly the same? My lens went out of focus so the video came out kinda blurry.”

“What?” Paige looked at Azzi to see if she was just as confused as they were, but Azzi was staring icily at Geno’s daughter, her jaw clenched and rigid.

“Uh, for the documentary?” Leo held up her camera, as if that explained everything. “Azzi, I knew I agreed not to come yet, but this was so great! I think after this we can just move onto the interviews. I won’t be needing any more content.”

“Leo,” Azzi said roughly, taking a menacing step towards her. “Please leave.”

“What?” The peppy brunette looked taken aback.

“No, don’t leave,” Paige interjected. She looked between the two of them in disbelief. “Does someone wanna tell me what’s going on?”

Now Leo looked confused. “Azzi? I thought you told her?”

“Fucking hell.” Azzi let go of the wheelchair, pressing her palms against her temples. “I was going to,” she mumbled. “I swear I was, but-”

“Someone tell me what the fuck is going on right now.” Paige heard her own voice, and it took even her by her surprise. She hadn’t used a tone so filled with malice and aggression against Azzi since before they’d started this whole thing, and right now that felt like decades ago.

Leo looked hesitantly at Azzi before saying softly, “Um, I know the truth about you guys. That you two aren’t actually dating.”

Panic rose up in Paige’s throat. “Fudd, you told her?”

“I didn’t tell her!” Azzi said quickly, her voice all nervous and high pitched. “She overheard one of our conversations and asked me about it.”

“But I told her I’d keep the secret to myself, including from my dad, as long as you guys would agree to keep doing my segment. It’s way too late into the semester to throw my whole project away,” Leo defended.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Azzi’s heart lurched at the wounded look in Paige’s eyes. She glanced at Leo. This was not the way she’d planned for this conversation to play out, in front of Leo and in public, with some people now staring at them.

“I-”

“Wait.” Paige interrupted. “So why is Leo here right now? Can someone explain that?”

Leo looked guiltily down at her camera, as if she’d just been caught red handed. “Well, you’ve been out with your ACL, so you haven’t really been around to help film for my doc. Which I totally understand, it’s really terrible what happened. But then I realized I was really running short on scenes, and they’re due in a week, so I asked Azzi if there was any chance that I could get any more candids of you guys.” A headache was starting to form behind Paige’s eyes, throbbing and threatening to split her skull. “Azzi texted back and said that she was taking you around campus today, and that I could come get some shots if I wanted,” Leo finished, staring at the ground.

“I told you that you could get some shots after I gave you the say so.” Azzi spit, her eyebrows drawn together in fury as she glared at Leo. “Not whenever the fuck you wanted, just following us like creeps.” Azzi leaned down until she was eye to eye with Paige. “Listen, P. I was planning on telling you that Leo knew. And I was planning on asking you for permission for her to come take some shots at the end of the day, so that she’d have enough to turn in. I was planning on doing all this before Leo came, but I forgot.” Azzi’s voice came out patched and broken. “I swear I wouldn’t have let her if you’d said no.”

Paige‘s knuckles clenched tight, her fingernails digging into the palms of her hand so hard that she started to draw blood. Of course.

Why else would Azzi show up to her apartment with this godforsaken wheelchair, with that stupid big grin of hers, and offer to spend her entire day pushing Paige around like a servant? Azzi hadn’t cared that Paige had opened up to her, been vulnerable to her about how difficult it had been to be stuck on crutches, helpless and incapable. No, she’d wheeled Paige around in order to look like a hero, to look like the model girlfriend in front of Leo’s dumbass cameras, motivated to save her own ass from being kicked off the Europe trip.

All of the times Azzi had shown up to her apartment, groceries in hand, had stayed for a movie and fallen asleep on Paige’s shoulder? Those moments had meant everything to Paige, and nothing to her. Paige cursed herself for letting her guard down, for letting herself fall in love with Azzi Fudd. For letting herself believe that they could be anything more than enemies.

She turned to Leo. “Take me home,” she demanded, her voice cold.

“Paige, wait.” Azzi scrambled furiously to stand in front of the wheelchair. “Please, you don’t understand.”

“Understand what? The fact that you know I have a hard time opening up to people, yet when I finally opened up to you about my insecurities about using crutches, you immediately took advantage of that?” Paige laughed, but it was bitter and hollow because right now, nothing was funny.

“That wasn’t my intention at all. You can’t-”

“You know what?” Paige interrupted. “I can’t even be mad at you. This is what we agreed to after all. Fake dating. Nothing less, nothing more.” She laughed bitterly. “In fact, I should thank you for being the reasonable one. For not being stupid enough to get your feelings involved like I did.” Paige bit the inside of her cheek so hard she could taste blood. “This was really a genius plan. Lugging the cripple around, getting her ice cream like she’s a poor child that needs to be saved. You’re smart, Fudd, I’ll give you that.” Paige hated it, the way Azzi was recoiling into herself because of her words, but she couldn’t think. She could only feel, and right now she was feeling a whole lot of hurt.

Leo nervously took ahold of Paige’s wheelchair.

“Paige, you don’t even know what you’re saying,” Azzi said. And apparently Paige was better at controlling her emotions than Azzi was, because Azzi was crying now, forcing words through her tears.

Paige cut her off again. “Save it.” She motioned for Leo to push, and they began heading in the opposite direction. “Don’t bother coming to my surgery.”

Paige hadn’t meant that. Oh god, she hadn’t meant that. They’d talked about her surgery just days earlier - Azzi had joked that she would fill up Paige’s entire apartment with stuffed animals to await her return; she’d joked that she’d show up to her hospital room from the first visiting hour and stay until the last, nagging and bothering Paige the entire time until Paige begged her to leave; she’d joked that she’d bring the biggest and brightest bouquet of flowers she could find so that she would outshine all the other measly attempts at flowers that people would bring. Paige had laughed, but in her head, she’d thought about how much she wouldn’t have minded if Azzi actually followed through with her words. About how the first face she wanted to see after her surgery was Azzi, and only Azzi. But she hadn’t said any of that, had instead giggled and swatted Azzi on the shoulder.

But now, the distance between them grew further and further, and it took Paige everything not to break apart right then and there.

[wisteriagoesvroom]

HI LOVE!!!💖💖💖

pathetic + carcar <3

Oscar sits. The bed is firm beneath his palms. Carlos is on his knees.

The other man’s mouth is parted, gently pliant in a way he never is anywhere else. He's usually this way, crawling to Oscar in his need. Demanding with his touch, on edge after a race, after one of their racing incidents.

If Oscar were unkind, he might think Carlos, still bereft of a seat for '25, was starting to cause on track run-ins with him deliberately. For what reason, Oscar doesn't know, and Oscar doesn't wish to entertain that train of thought because it was a nonstop bullet to nowhere good.

Unfortunately though, he has always enjoyed driving on the limit.

"Is this how you like it? How you need me?” Carlos says, acrid with disgust. With Oscar, with this, with himself — who’s to say.

“I don’t need anything from you.” Oscar replies.

Carlos’s laugh is hollow. “That is a lie. I think you find a strange happiness in leaving me unsatisfied."

Oscar doesn't respond. Just peers at Carlos with his most neutral expression, mind turning. Piecing together the puppet that is Carlos. Heart too big. Talent overshadowed by others. The obvious and barely concealed inferiority issues that might as well leave the man bleeding openly on the side of the track.

Alpine 2022 means Oscar has had too close a brush to irrelevance, and he knows a little something about being unwanted. He has broken his ribs. Understands plenty about silent injury. How to push through pain. It's just the way it is, kid. Mark had said once. Luck of the draw. The words ring in his ears, in the silence.

Perhaps they have more in common than he wants to believe. Perhaps this is why he and Carlos compel each other.

"You are so quiet. I don't know who are you are fooling with your act." Carlos says, under his breath, perhaps more to himself than to anyone else. Trying to bait Oscar, twisting the nail with hope that it hurts.

Carlos clambers up from the floor, bringing himself eye to eye with oscar. "If they only knew what you are like in here, the way you beg me to let you come, the way you look when I–"

Oscar finds himself bored of this. The excessive verbiage, the posturing, when they could just call this what it is. A bad habit. A need.

Besides, Carlos’s arousal is evident the strain of his boxers, the deep maw of his eyes.

So Oscar peers steadily up at Carlos, and spits into his open mouth.

Carlos looks as if he's been slapped. There's a flash of danger in his expression.

Oscar counts upwards. The room is so silent that Oscar thinks there’s an element of truth to that saying about a pin being dropped. Oppenheimer could rise from the dead and remake his bomb, and neither man would probably move.

Then Carlos lunges at Oscar. Kisses him, shoves Oscar so hard back onto the bed that Oscar can barely breathe.

If it's destruction that Carlos wants, then Oscar can be charitable, just this once. He lets Carlos take what he needs, lets Carlos push and push with his tongue and his hands and his body. Lets Carlos take from him until Oscar's own mouth swells with the ache of it. And still, Oscar does not cede, and never does.

Carlos gasps when he breaks the kiss. It’s the surprising noise of concession, of defeat. But Oscar lets Carlos cage him in, hands at the side of his head, and he lies perfectly still. He doesn’t feel the need to posture all the time, to prove his power.

"Are you done?" Oscar says.

Carlos hovers, muscles tensed with anticipation, waiting for the gunshot. The next move from Oscar to push them over the edge, or end it all.

You're pathetic, Oscar thinks.

But watching Carlos spiral, watching him fall apart in the face of Oscar's glacial indifference - Oscar wonders if he is the pathetic one too.

As the person who keeps the door open for a kicked dog.

Who unfolds his hand, and lets him stay.

[hurricane-heatt]

for the trope mash up, may i request summer camp au + accidentally married + martian? :P

hello!!!! you’ll have to forgive me for both the time this took and the brief accidentally married bit but it made it in there and it’s sweet i think!!!! i hope u like it :)

seb and mark as camp leaders! they both have their own group of about ten kids and their groups go together on adventure walks in the mornings (an hour for the kids to get all their energy out and then do nice quiet things in the afternoon). the groups joining together is not by choice.

it’s a problem because the two group leaders bicker. a lot. the camp is very underfunded so a lot of the equipment is missing and/or on its last legs. they mostly argue about silly things like Well you had the stove last night so can my kids have it tonight? But we’re toasting marshmallows! You toasted marshmallows last night!!!! no one seems to think why don’t we just collaborate and share a stove. (one of the other camp leaders will sigh and push their own stove towards whoever’s moaning abt it)

they are also deeply competitive on behalf of their camps. children are children and love games and winning and beating each other and seb and mark sort of might maybe use this as an excuse to wind each other up. the whole ethos of the campus is Be Kind Everyone’s a Winner Teamwork all that rubbish. seb and mark, upon hearing there’s a egg and spoon race across the wider camp, are strategically planning who is best suited to compete for their team.

it always comes down to Webber vs Vettel and the kids love it because children are desperate to shout and cheer at anything that moves, especially when the thing moving is their friends and in the background their camp leaders are elbowing each other when one wins and the other loses

anyway. one day they’ve gone on an adventure walk. afterwards one of the kids comes and taps mark and has a very sad little look on her face. she’s lost her camp backpack and it had all of her stuff in it (the way kids bring every item they own everywhere). she’s all teary eyed and nervous and so mark says don’t worry, i’ll go and look for it. can’t have sprouted legs and walked off!

but then mark realises the girl is from seb’s group. so he goes and tells seb and he’s like Oh we’d better go look for it. mark is like Um. We? seb shrugs. says Well she told you so. You have to come with me. It’s only fair actually. Anyway, two sets of eyes are better than one!

(lots of flimsy excuses to spend time with mark, who he’s had a little bit of a crush on since seb started working here last summer, that’s irrelevant, though.)

cue plenty of huffing. but off they go! into the woods! they follow the same trail they did in the morning, up the hill, through the twisty trees, as they’re colloquially named for the way they wrap around both the sky and themselves, the huge and constantly muddy puddle on a concrete path that the kids delighted in getting their boots in.

and it’s a nice day so maybe they take a little longer on the way, while also peering around bushes in case any passersby have been kind enough to drop the backpack in for safekeeping.

maybe seb takes a little longer in the dirt, checking behind trees because when he turns around mark’s got one hand on his hips, squinting into the sun with the other hand covering his eyes and he’s actually really toned and his arms are very nice. he’s noticed before obviously. how could he not. he’s just a guy. but this is different, especially when mark turns to look at him and seb feels particularly caught out when he grins knowingly. Shut up. Keep walking.

and maybe mark lingers a bit behind seb as he runs ahead thinking he sees a glimpse of red on a fence post. maybe he watches because seb’s hair turns golden in the light like a halo and it’s very beautiful. like art, mark thinks, and he wishes he had a camera. or maybe he can keep it all to himself in his memory

seb turns back around when he sees it isn’t the backpack, just a bit of a torn fabric from a tent, and mark sighs but they’re nearly at the end of the trail (a big loop around the campsite) so Surely it must be ahead!

the last part of the walk is always the children’s favourite, a big hill leading into a sunken in field, a valley of sorts. there’s a footpath worn out by adventurers over the years but they all, everytime, get on their stomachs and roll down on the grassy part, tufts sticking to their shirts as they land at the bottom, giggling. seb looks as if he’s itching to recreate it but they carry on down the grown up route.

something catches their eye in the middle of the field, and there sits a bright red backpack, looking very lost. they run towards it as if it’s some precious artefact and they cheer and hug each other and then laugh it off nervously. because they’re stupid.

the running wore them out, though, so they sit on the grass. the kids are fine with the other camp leaders, probably being better behaved than they do for mark and seb themselves, so they’ll take a break. seb notices (after he stops looking at mark who’s leant back on his forearms and looking sweaty and handsome) that there’s little braided stems littered in the grass.

Oh, she must’ve got distracted when making the daisy chains! Easy to do, replies mark with a smile, eyes shut as he soaks up the sun

seb picks one chain up, inspects the way they’re intricately laced into one another, finds some half finished ones too. he gets to work piercing a hole through the stem with his nail, threading it through, over and over until it fits neatly on his wrist. flimsy and delicate but he grins and shows it to mark

mark will smile and say, Can I have one? and seb would say Make one yourself you lazy arse, and then mark would pull himself upright and scramble to launch at seb, who laughs loud and bold like it’s so easy to do. he fights because because he’s no quitter and the smell of grass and the sun beating down on them mixes in their lungs and Oh, look, you’ve snapped it!

seb frowns but stops when he realises he’s now on top of mark, was pinning his wrists to the dirt when he notices his bracelet has broken and fallen off. mark doesn’t say a word, just breathes and looks straight up at seb. they both breathe like that for a while, seb in two minds, a dozen fleeting thoughts while mark looks so calm. how can this be so easy? how can it be so hard?

Pull me up, then. Sure, sorry. S’alright. I’ll make you another bracelet.

so then they sit quietly against each other, knees touching, and occasionally mark let’s out an exasperated sigh as he splits the stem (big hands, clumsy) but eventually there’s a semblance of a bracelet for the both of them. they gather up some of the smaller rings too, to bring them back for the kids. finally, seb hoists the little red backpack over one shoulder, and they make their way back to the camp

it’s late afternoon so they’re getting ready for dinner around the fire, and some of the kids are comforting the little girl who lost her backpack. It’ll be okay! They’ll find it! Mark found my hat, remember! Yeah, and Seb found my pencil case!

when seb and mark return it’s as if they’ve brought home a golden trophy. the girl hugs seb’s knees and they both scruff her hair and say Be careful next time!

the kids crowd around them, hailed as heroes, and one points to their arms and gasps, turning to their friend and giggling. then they’re all in fits of laughter.

What’s so funny? says seb, putting a chain that’s far too long on his hair. everyone keeps laughing and mark looks at him like he’s an angel, with his crown of daisies atop his head. You’re married now! says one of the little boys, and he smacks his hand over his mouth as if he spoke without thinking.

How does that work, then! mark laughs but doesn’t look at sebastian, who’s looking at him with pink cheeks and a wide smile. Because you both have the bracelets on! It’s fairy magic, it means you’re married forever! one girl chimes in, her tone of voice as though it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

I can’t be stuck with him forever! and all the children cackle with laughter and run back to their seats around the campfire as dinner is called, plastic plates on their laps.

and they both should go and help serve the food but instead they just stand there for a little while, watching the flames dance in the pit.

and then maybe mark slips his hand into sebastian’s, just gently, the daisy chains sliding against one another. and seb squeezes, once, and doesn’t let go. like it’s easy.

[angst-is-love-angst-is-life]

director's commentary on Trophy please 👀👀

Trophy

Oh gods where do I even start-- my magnum opus, my beloved, the every-horrible-thing-I-could-think-of-happens-because-no-one-stopped-me (and boy did my best friend try) fic

This was so long I'm sorry-- as you can see, I always want to talk about this fic but have ✨anxiety✨. When asked about it though-- it's what my brain needs to allow it lmao. I do hope you enjoy :)

The first line was originally (as a thought) "I deserve this" , this was scrapped because the concept became irrelevant in later drafts (and now it may become relevant again-- who knows). The first bit before it cuts back to the race was originally the first of a back and forth kind of flashback thing. ex. chapter 2 would have taken place in the present with hints as to what happened, and chapter 3 would directly follow the events of chapter 1. If the way I explained that didn't make much sense-- that should be enough to show why this has since been changed💀

A single step away– but in the corner of his eye; a flash, a blur— and Zoom tackled him off the magnetar.

This was very intentional. I specifically wanted to mention just how close Barry was to winning as he did in canon. Makes everything that happens next all the sweeter, to me :)

There are many parts and lines that are going to hit so much harder later on and that's all I'll say about that matter for the moment.

“You really thought you could defeat me?” His low whine turned into a howl as Zoom pressed harder on an evidently broken rib. “Forgotten I’m the fastest man alive?” Zoom leaned further down and Barry bit his cheek to prevent a shriek. “Don’t worry.” Tone laced with venom, he wrapped a hand around Barry’s windpipe. Zoom’s mask was inches from his face, blocking the breach. “You’ll have plenty of time to remember.” He clawed at the hand desperately, struggling for air. 

This is one of my favorite scenes ngl. I wrote this whole excerpt after rewatching the Enter Zoom scene and wrote nothing else for the rest of that night lmao. Tis where you get the parallels between those first two lines and ones in that episode "You really thought you could defeat me?" is just slightly changed from "{Harrison Wells}, you thought you could defeat me {with this}?" And as I type this, I have discovered another layer to that parallel that is extremely relevant to the story. Holy shit this is awesome (I will not be saying. spoilers.) ANYWAYS; the other parallel line. "Forgotten I'm the fastest man alive?" comes from "Never forget, I am the fastest man alive." I love parallels. Let's just say that Zoom is very irritated and a little offended that Barry seems to think he {Zoom}'s less powerful than he is. May need a couple more reminders...

Knew I needed another really bad injury besides the broken rib to both bring the Enter Zoom parallels to a climax, and to make the next scene/s work. I thought "Hey! Speedsters can't run if their leg is broken!" and that was that.

“Now you can watch your precious multiverse die. Knowing you’re the one who destroyed it.”

This might be my favorite line and it is the only anything from the first draft of chapter 1 that made it to the final draft. Also I wrote it at 5 am because of course I did.

Somewhere behind the two speedsters, there was a scream

The person who screamed will not be revealed in this fic but I do know who it was and there is an in-universe reason for it besides simply directing the attention away from Barry. I wrote a companion piece off of that reason-- may post it if I feel like cleaning it up a little. But for now, feel free to theorize :)

And finally, to round out the chapter 1 fun facts and commentary-- something I've wanted to say since that fateful day it was posted.

Around 50% of chapter 1 was written on March 14th from 5-11 pm with no food, no water, and no bathroom breaks. I had the power of whump and the speedforce on my side and I was DETERMINED to post it on Barry's birthday and it fucking worked.

THANK YOU SO VERY MUCH FOR ASKING AND ENABLING ME BECAUSE I HAVE PUT WAY TO MUCH THOUGHT INTO THIS FIC AND AM DELIGHTED TO SHARE IT!!!

Fanfic Writers: Director's Cut

[whispersinthedawn]

Between the Heavens and the Embers

Apollo snapped his fingers again. “Focus,” he commanded.

Percy sucked in a harsh breath, unable to believe that she’d slipped back away into believing herself an eagle in the middle of a conversation with a god, however amiable, by virtue of just recalling the past.

“I can hear things,” she finished pathetically.

It seemed to mean more to Apollo than it did to her, because the god drew back with a look of understanding on his face.  “It’s just an evolution of your battle reflexes.”

“Evolution?” Percy echoed.

“Have you never wondered exactly how you’re always aware of your surroundings?” Apollo asked in a tone so similar to Chiron’s when he’d been pretending to be Mr Brunner for her sixth-grade that it sent a sharp ache through Percy’s chest.

“You have the same number of sensory neurons as any other human. Your brain simply happens to dismiss less of the information as irrelevant than others’.”

“So, my brain’s lost even more of the restrictions than before?” Percy asked, unsure. It … didn’t seem right. She couldn’t claim to be the absolute best at biology, certainly not with Greek Mythology involved with its sapient sheep and talking trees, but she rather doubted being able to hear objects miles away lay within human capacity.

Apollo chortled. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’d be leaking out your brains if that were the case.”

Just as Percy had begun to relax, the god continued brazenly, “In moments of terrible stress,” Apollo glanced around their banal surroundings and amended, “or moments of great paranoia, demigods are liable to direct their untapped potential into cultivating their senses for a power-up.”

Percy frowned at him in silent inquiry even as her brain raced. She’d … she’d been trying to overhear the sounds of pursuit, hadn’t she? Denied the dubious respite of dreams, her hyper-active brain had instead slipped straight into her favourite pastime of imagining every single thing that could go wrong. And then her straining ears had captured more and more input until something about the eagle had captured Percy instead. 

“You’re transitioning – from human to something more … demigodly. You’re literally growing more sensory receptors. But your brain–” Apollo shrugged as if the state of her pitifully mortal brain matter was a foregone conclusion. “Brains are delicate. Elastic, but given to self-preservation. It’ll be a long time if ever until you adapt to your senses.”

“I’ve never heard of this before,” Percy protested, not truly dubious yet unable to accept his words as the unvarnished truth.

Apollo’s eyes glinted darkly at her with an unnamed emotion. It wasn’t sympathy or anything as self-blaming as an apology. But not entirely devoid of the bitterness that came from knowing the unfairness of reality.

“It’s common enough for demigods,” he told her with unprecedented gentleness. “They just tend to die before they can pass the information on.”

In moments of terrible stress or extreme paranoia.

If demigods sprouted new powers according to need – what constituted a greater need than the fangs at your throat, than the claws around your heart?

What greater danger than the monster about to kill you?

Percy swallowed. “Will I finish evolving by the time the train stops?” she asked without true hope.

Apollo chuckled disbelievingly. “I think not,” he said incredulously. “The nervous system can take up to thirty years to heal any damage – and you’re talking about creating new pathways altogether.”

Percy sank into her seat and wrapped her arms around herself. Angled her head so that Apollo could only witness her troubled profile while she herself could detect every single non-existent wrinkle on his refection in the side-view mirror.    

“I suppose I’ll die before mastering my powers too,” she whispered.

“Undoubtedly,” Apollo agreed without hesitation.

“Perhaps even on this quest,” she continued fatalistically.

“Perhaps,” Apollo dismissed with a callousness she couldn’t quite bring herself to believe.

Their eyes met through the glass of the mirror and caught.

“Are you sure you can take that risk?” Percy whispered. “Let that perhaps turn into a yes?”

***

Read on AO3

[2-many-ideas-help]

happy (late) valentines day @rotinthehead! I was using @throwaway2277 as a way to stay anon but still contact you. sorry it took so long lol cosmic horror is harder to write than i thought

@mcyt-valentines

ft: enderman biology headcanons, joan jett, Spidey Senses, grackles being little shits, me nerding about stars, and more!

“I’M SORRY?”

“Tubbo keep it down!”

Ranboo quickly shushed their companion. They could already feel the Eyes on their back as the other tourists turned to glare at the two hybrids, causing the fur on their neck to stand up. Wonderful. The tour guide continued prattling on about the history of the quarry the group was touring. Something about a major project they were commissioned to provide the marble for? It was honestly rather boring.

“Come on Ran,” hissed Tubbo, “You’ve never seen the Milky Way?”

“I mean, I’ve seen the things they show us in school?”

“THAT DOESN’T COUNT!”

Of course, there was a reason Ranboo had never seen the Milky Way, or really any stars, in person. They grew up in the city. The constant light pollution meant that they couldn’t really see anything in the sky. The most they had ever seen was Orion, and they only ever saw him when they visited their cousins in the suburbs. Tubbo, on the other hand, grew up in the middle of nowhere. He got the pretty skies every night, and apparently considered it a federal crime for someone to have never experienced said pretty skies.

“Okay. Change of plans. We need to find a dark sky area.”

“I- wait what? Tubbo? We didn’t bring any camping supplies?”

“Irrelevant.”

“TUBBO?”

—

As soon as the tour ended, Tubbo hauled Ranboo out of the gift shop and back towards the car. He half-shoved, half-threw the incredibly discombobulated ender hybrid into the passenger’s seat, before racing around the car to get behind the wheel, staring intently at his phone all the while.

“Alright, the nearest full-dark sky area is about 2 day’s drive southwest on Route 66.”

Ranboo blinked. Tubbo, do you really think this is a good idea? We’re kinda… messing up our travel plans completely.”

“It’ll be fiiiine,” laughed the goat hybrid, “We didn’t have any reservations anyways. Hang on, lemme call Tom and let him know about the change of plans.” He tapped at his phone screen, causing a ringtone to, well, ring out through the van. After a couple seconds, the boisterous avian picked up, and soon the van was full of laughter.

Ranboo watched Tubbo cackle at something Tommy had said. The ender hybrid grinned slightly, before stiffening up like they’d been shocked. Someone, or something, was Watching them. They whipped their head towards the window, glancing around the parking lot. Tubbo cut himself off in the middle of a sentence. “Ran? You okay?”

The feeling disappeared almost as quickly as it appeared. “…Yeah.”

Their friend looked utterly unconvinced. “If you say so…”

—

The old van raced along the road that cut through vast cornfields. Music blared through the radio, Ranboo and Tubbo singing along, albeit horribly off key.

“I DON’T GIVE A DAMN ABOUT MY REPUTATION baw na naw na na naw na naw na na LIVIN IN THE PAST IT’S A NEW GENERATION baw na naw na na naw na naw na na I’M GONNA DO WHAT YOU WANNA DO AND THAT’S WHAT I’M GONNA DO AND I DON’T GIVE A-“

“No no no those aren’t the lyrics Ran! It’s ‘A girl can do what she wants to do’, not ‘I’m gonna do what you wanna do’!”

“I don’t care bathtub boy, let me sing Joan Jett damn it!”

“BATHTUB BOY??”

“Yes. Bathtub b-“ There it was again, that same feeling from earlier. It felt like someone was Watching them. Someone they didn’t know.

“…You okay?”

“Tubbo? Stop the car.”

He stared at them blankly, but tires screeched as he pulled the van over anyways. “What’s going on Ran?”

“Someone was Watching us.”

“ExCUSE ME?”

Ranboo didn’t answer. They ducked out of the van and stalked towards the fence separating the roadside from the corn, the grass bending under their claws. Tubbo’s hooves clattered against the asphalt as he hopped onto the road and jogged over to the taller hybrid. “Ranboo, what the FUCK do you mean someone was Watching us?”

“Exactly what I said. Something was setting off the Enderman Spidey Sense, and it wasn’t you.

Tubbo paled. He immediately darted over to the fence, hopping it easily.

“I- TUBBO? That’s PRIVATE PROPERTY??”

The goat hybrid turned to look at his friend. “Yeah. And?”

“And- TUBBO WE’RE GONNA GET IN TROUBLE!”

“Not if we don’t get caught.”

Now, it was Ranboo’s turn to stare blankly.

Tubbo sighed. “Look, you wanna figure out what’s setting off the spidey senses or not?”

Silently, Ranboo joined their companion on the other side of the fence.

—

In the end, the duo found a grand total of 27 mourning doves, around 20 cowbirds, and no less than 300 grackles (all of which attacked them on sight), but absolutely nobody that could have been Watching them. It was eerily peaceful.

—

This pattern continued through the next few days. Ranboo’s “Spidey Senses” would go off in the middle of nowhere, they’d pull over, do a sweep of the area, and find absolutely nothing. The worst parts, though, were the nights. If even a little bit if the sky was visible, Ranboo would be entirely unable to sleep due to the constant feeling of being Watched. About 2 and a half days passed before Tubbo pulled them offroad into a little clearing. They had arrived.

—

As night fell, Tubbo hoisted a very disgruntled and blindfolded Ranboo onto the roof of the van.

“Really Tubbo, I don’t see why this is necessary.” “It’ll give the best impact Ran. You can take it off now by the way.”

The grumble building in their chest died as they lifted the blindfold off and looked up at the sky. It was beautiful. Stars were scattered across the massive expanse like paint splatters on a canvas. Purple nebulae accented the multi-colored dots. The crown jewel, however, was the full moon, glimmering high in the sky.

Tubbo started pointing at specific constellations, telling their stories. “That one’s Cassiopeia, classic victim of hubris. Earned Poseidon’s ire by saying her daughter was more beautiful than the Sea Nymphs. Got cast into the stars for that.”

Ranboo already knew most of the stories Tubbo was telling, having been the recipient of multiple Technoblade Infodumps, but they just let their companion ramble.

They sat there for what felt like hours, so engrossed by the stars and their stories that they didn’t immediately notice that the forest had gone dead silent. Once they did notice, however, they did their best to fill that silence with forced jokes and barely hidden dread. Ranboo was in the middle of a story both had heard a million times when it happened.

The sky.

Went.

Dark.

Just blinked out of existence, throwing everything into chaos. Tubbo immediately fumbled for his phone, but Ranboo sat ram-rod still, filling with dread. The feeling was back in full force. They were puffed up like an angry cat, in a way that would have been rather funny if it weren’t for the circumstances.

“Tubbo,” they whispered, “get in the car and get moving. Now.”

“Don’t need to tell me twice! Come on!” Tubbo’s shout seemed to be smothered by the void. The darkness was oppressive. Even Tubbo’s phone flashlight seemed to be swallowed into blackness.

Ranboo nearly face planted trying to get off the van’s roof. They leapt into the car as soon as they righted themself, and no sooner had they closed the door, they were off, racing down the road with high beams on and both hybrids holding on for dear life. Their flight was cut short when Ranboo noticed a speck of light growing much larger as it fell towards Earth.

It hit the ground hard, but left no crater. As the… thing unfolded itself from its landing spot, the only things in the duo’s minds were 1. Oh that’s really big, and 2. RUNRUNRUNRUN. Their minds were screaming at them to RUNMOVE do ANYTHING to get away, but they were frozen in place. Their panic spiked horribly when it lowered its head(?) to peer at them through the van window. The feeling of being Watched peaked, Ranboo’s panic was at a fever pitch and THEN…

The Thing… Spoke to them. No, not Spoke, not exactly. Its Voice rang out in their heads, loud, incomprehensible through layers of static and whispers, but still perfectly clear.

NO. YOU ARE NOT THE ONES I WAS SEARCHING FOR.

With that ominous message, the Thing vanished. Just blinked out of existence, much like the sky had earlier. Speaking of the sky, one peek out the window revealed everything was back to normal. It was like nothing ever happened, like the sky hadn’t just vanished, like their perceptions of reality hadn’t just been flipped on their heads. Ranboo’s voice broke the shocked silence with a perfect encapsulation of the duo’s thoughts.

“What the FUCK just happened?”

[superultrachicken]

Triggering RWDE

Adam

Adam was a villain because he was a possessive ex-boyfriend who attempted to kill the people Blake cared about to get back at her for leaving him. She literally had to sever the links between two train cars to have enough time to physically get away from him before he could track her down.

He didn’t go off the deep end with his bigotry until it was obvious that Blake loved a human more than him.

Ironwood

What made Ironwood an intriguing character to me when he was introduced was his charismatic narcissism. All the way up to his death, the man has an air of authority about him. But...

- He brought a full military force with him to an peaceful international festival, the entirety of of which was under his explicit control.

- He entered an artificial huntress into a competition with the intent of showing off the fact that he was going to make hunters irrelevant.

- He tried to intimidate the other world leaders into using his military after being chastised for bringing said military with him.

These aren’t the actions of a cautious man. These are a show of power in an attempt to start a dick measuring contest with the other world leaders.

Ironwood was never a good person as per canon. He was only a good person in your fan fiction (which isn’t canon btw). You all just need to latch onto a character that you’ve personally diagnosed with PTSD, when he doesn’t have PTSD and was just trying to keep the last bit of power that he had.

But oh, wait, we do have a character with very well written PTSD who hasn’t fully gotten over it. Multiple actually. The entirety of RWBY suffers from PTSD and they deal with it in different ways. LIKE NORMAL PEOPLE. You don’t need to be a neurotic mess or depressed to be traumatized, PTSD manifests different for everybody and it’s very obvious none of you have experienced it.

Salem

The only reason you guys haven’t started stanning Salem is because she was undeniably white-coded before the events of the show. She fits all the other criteria.

- She was tragic backstory and was unjustly punished.

- She’s hot.

- She has anger issues.

- She’s possessive of something.

- She has multiple instances of severely traumatic events that have led to her wanting to destroy the world.

I think the reason you guys don’t stan her is because she doesn’t show a kind hand to the rest of the cast. She doesn’t care to help them at any point or use them to her benefit because she knows she can’t manipulate these people.

The Faunus

I’ve noticed a few of you saying that M&K are racist toward the fictional race.

This is a wake up call, faunus do not exist.

----

Edit: Removed the White Fang section as people actually had sources to back up their claims

[slow-button-off]

What did you think about the new format ?

I’m torn. If we are going to have sprint races (hopefully not much) I prefer this format with 2 quali and no impact on the race from the sprint. The past format was just a painful way to bring Sunday grid back to what it was supposed to be if we had an unusual quali. With that much gap between cars and the dirty air effect back in action sprint is not that eventful.

Quali with mandatory tires … why not but they did not have enough or it’s the « new tire » thing that’s the issue. I get being more sustainable but that’s not it for me.

But also, I did not like the main quali Friday. Like… I work on fridays so FP were good for me. And I like teams having FPs because for me F1 is still about making the perfect car, fine tuning it as much as the team can and also seeing great performances from drivers so they have to have time to learn what they can and can’t do. It’s scary for newcomers if we continue like that. No private tests, less fps… I prefer watching exceptionally good drivers and great battles than crashes or slow careful races.

Also budget cap again : they can’t battle with the risk of breaking a car. And big points are up on Sunday, double/triple headers coming etc…

And as we’ve seen except for crashes, the sprint + races with the same order is just a repeat performance. Next change is going to be a reverse grid …

And Baku was not a great place for a sprint. I feel like they just wanted entertainment from crashes. And that, I don’t like at all of course. But f1 is still f1 and even when FIA and F1 want entertainment the sport goes back to being « boring » !

Maybe points for quali is a better idea (not saying that for Charles … or maybe 😅 we need the points and we don’t have the car for the race yet)

I'm pretty much on the same page as you.

I don't like the sprint weekends. Two competitive sessions is enough for me and my heart but I also really like watching the teams figure out their cars throughout the FPs.

If we have to have sprints then this is better because the sprint doesn't influence the race.

But tbh 4 competitive sessions is too much for me. I don't need that 6x a year. I am way too emotionally involved and it stresses me out way too much.

I am lucky enough and I wfh on fridays so I can watch quali but it does suck for everyone that doesn't have that option.

If this is going to be the format for even more races next season then I might just skip saturday all together. I need to have some time on a weekend to do things and the sprints aren't irrelevant but definitely less relevant.

Yes, the sprints sadly do just still show pretty much exactly the pace order for the actual race and it sucks.

They definitely picked Baku for the "jeopardy".

[daisychainsandbowties]

hi hello 📥 ✏️ 🖊

📥 what's your fave fic to receive comments/messages on?

oh that's a tough one... honestly probably ligaments because i really pour my heart into that one. it's written in a very experimental style compared to the the third person POV & more straightforward narratives of my other fics, but it brings me so much joy to write it. and also i mean the comments on that tend to be from other big-time lilith fans & just some of the convos that u and i specifically have had in the comments section of ligaments were so incredible.

ligaments really brings me the most satisfaction when people *get* it, because i put so much of myself in that fic so it's really interesting to see people connect to the same things that matter a lot to me (and not just girls covered in blood but also the way that lilith feels so fiercely towards the world, how it renders her speechless, how love just unravels language and becomes something tender and untameable). yeah that's the one i think.

✏️ do you write every day?

yes! i write to relax so when i'm not working on my thesis i'm probably tucked away somewhere writing. i do still write original fiction (new novel idea crawled out of the primordial ooze this week rip me) and also my poetry, but recently it's been a lot of fic which i've really enjoyed. i don't have a strict schedule for writing or a set amount i have to write every day because my brain takes those kinds of things too seriously, but i tend to write about 1000 words every day, or a full poem which i consider equivalent to about that much (tho, i have been known to write 1k poems. rip my supervisors who are like... hey cas do you think you could write a short poem?)

🖊 post a snippet from a current WIP. has to be ligaments for u kei

ligaments 7

you wonder how it happened. a chaste kiss or something long and deliberate, beatrice lingering her tongue inside another mouth, swallowing each sound as if, that way, God might not hear it.

it is not difficult to imagine. you have after all watched this girl rip a bloody knife from inside a body, holding the blade aloft at a bad angle so the wet followed the pathway of her wrist and raced down her forearm like a tongue. you have watched her flick it off the ends of her fingers, splashing blood up onto her own face and wincing at the warmth.

you have stood with her fully clothed in a shower and scrubbed the various fluids of war out of her hair, feeling each bump in the topography of her skull. you can very easily imagine her pressing her body into another body, gripping brickwork to either side and rocking her hips forward.

but to imagine her without her scars and her silence and her little lips closed around the profanities that belong in her? this, you cannot do.

would she be an arachnologist? growing dusty and grey-haired in a laboratory full of the soft sounds of spider legs tapping on glass, shuffling around in cages. naming each of them in her eccentric way. picking their shed skeletons up out of their cages, totally unafraid.

she could be a physicist, you think, sometimes. when she will not shut up about the Higgs Boson particle, failing utterly to take offense when her papers - printed terribly off the rickety machine in the admin office - call it the God particle.

‘scientists don’t like it either, lilith. the arguments are very funny. either they say that it’s not as important as all that or they say that the beginning had nothing to do with god, so the comparison is irrelevant.’

‘and what do you think?’

‘i think it’s romantic.’ - you choked on your orange juice - ‘it’s an overstatement, certainly. but it’s beautiful. it explains why some particles break symmetry. it’s… it says that what might seem like an aberration is just another piece of what holds the universe together.’

[fortressofserenity]

Nonexistent

When it comes to slash fanfiction and especially popslash, there’s a tendency to focus a lot on Western boy bands (though it can be argued KPop fandom’s part of this to some extent) but ignore their black predecessors. In the case with the Backstreet Boys, there’s far more fanfiction of them than there is of their contemporaries Destiny’s Child and the only black person to regularly show up in popslash is Mel B from the Spice Girls.

Even then she gets way less fanfiction than that of the Backstreet Boys, especially somebody like Nick Carter on AO3. It gets weirder still when you realise that while the Backstreet Boys are patterned after New Kids on the Block, New Kids on the Block were created as a white version of New Edition a black vocal group inspired by those at Motown, a mostly black music label. New Edition and any Motown act are pretty much nonexistent in fanfiction.

(Sadly, black music’s palatable if it were done by white people.)

If I were to bring up groups like The Temptations and Four Tops, you might say they’re old and irrelevant so why bother making fanfiction based on them. Yet The Beatles are also old at this point, therefore they should be irrelevant but there’s a lot of fanfiction based on them. Likewise the BSB’s contemporaries Destiny’s Child don’t get much fanfiction either, so perhaps it’s not so much age that’s a deterrent to fanfiction but rather race.

And in Destiny’s Child’s case, an intersection between race and sexism (misogynoir here as they’re black). It’s really going to be a case of white boy prioritisation, sometimes at the expense of groups that can be doable muses. A muse is fine, if they’re white. If they’re black, most people wouldn’t enjoy or like in any way. The only (other) way for them to show up is to be fetishised for things they get stereotyped for, a form of othering.

On one hand, we’re spared from the horrors of smutty Four Tops fanfiction but on the other hand it’s pretty weird how The Temptations and Four Tops, despite being much closer to the Backstreet Boys than the Beatles are, get ignored in fanfiction. They might as well not exist, not to mention I could imagine some fans dismissing them as music for old people even though the Beatles get played in oldies blocks from time to time as well.

The real answer would be racism, albeit one too uncomfortable for others to honestly admit. That would mean they’re more sympathetic to white people than they would to others, with black people they’d be good for fulfilling a stereotype but never for violating them though that involves actually seeing them as people. So othering them’s the way to go, even well-meaning people do this from my experience.

Popslash remains white and perhaps whiter still since AJ McLean and Howie Dorough are part white while Destiny’s Child is all-black but don’t get much fannish attention despite being contemporaneous with them. I guess black people don’t matter much in popslash, just a few regularly show up in popslash and the rest is going to be all about white men all the way.

It will get under Backstreet Boys fans’ skins, but it has to be said.

[runnersnz]

“I have always been an active person with a general interest in fitness but I didn’t start running until after I had children. I had severe post natal depression after the birth of my first child and so after the birth of my second son, three years later, I was much more aware of my mental health. I looked for a way of keeping fit, whilst getting outside and giving myself some time out from the responsibilities of being a mum – running seemed the perfect answer! It quickly became the thing that gave me time just for me.

I did a few shorter races while the kids were young, a couple of 10kms and a few duathlons. I had it in my mind that I would love to be able to run a half marathon but thought it just wasn’t possible for me. Another mum from my plunket group then told me how she was training for the Christchurch Half with a group from her church and invited me to join them. I did and it turned out to be one of the best decisions I have ever made! 

It was the support from the people in that group that made me realise that I really could do it and that got me across the finish line of my first half marathon. I continued to run with people from that group and went on to complete a few more half’s, and although he didn’t tell me at the time, the coach had set the training plan up so that there was a marathon six weeks after one of them. So when I’d done the half he just said “well, you’ve trained to this point, done a really good half, now you could keep going and do a full!” My belief in myself that I could do it definitely wasn’t as strong as his belief that I could!

On the marathon day I was extremely nervous on the start line, but it was an amazing race and one that will stick in my mind for just being awesome. You never know what’s going to happen in a race, you don’t know if you can complete it, but I was smiling from beginning to end. My friend joined me on her bike towards the end and I remember her saying “I’m pretty sure you’re meant to be dying about now!” But we were just running along chatting and it was a great run for all the right reasons. 

My running has evolved over the years and the distances have increased. I enjoy being part of a race but I also just love getting out and adventuring with friends. I am happiest when I am out on the trails. Speed is irrelevant to me. It is being out in nature, moving my body and freeing my mind that is important. It’s all about just being present and celebrating the fact that I get to run and have a body that allows me to! I have faced some mental health problems in my life and running has definitely helped me to feel in control of my body during times when I haven’t necessarily been able to control my mind. 

You learn so much from running, especially the longer distance runs, that you can apply to other areas of your life; like just keep putting one foot in front of the other and don’t look too far ahead. Running an ultra can be a very overwhelming thing, but if you break it down into lots of 5km, all of a sudden it doesn’t seem so overwhelming.

The people and the community that I have connected with along my running journey have made such a difference to me. I like to think that I’ve made a difference to some people as well. I volunteer for Speed Freaks as a coach. I’ve been doing that for about 18 months now and I just absolutely love it! The philosophy behind the Speed Freaks is to bring people together by using running as a vehicle for overcoming mental health or addiction issues. Just having the support of other people around you, people that notice if you don’t turn up, who check in with you and see how you are – that’s everything. And it’s not necessarily about the outcome of races or how fast you are, it’s just about being around supportive people who’ve got a common goal. Wearing the blue t-shirt is a big honour to me. I love it when people recognise you and call you a ‘freak’ as you’re running along. 

I have done a lot this year, it’s been awesome and I am really proud of some things I’ve achieved – my first backyard ultra and first ‘official’ ultra race, but I think I’m actually going to go back to running for the enjoyment of it for a bit. I just need to go back to the love of it for a while.”

Kat @sherbetweb (Christchurch) Photo taken on the Kepler Track – Portraits of Runners + their stories @RunnersNZ

[floatiesmx]

point to where anyone denied that man has a white dad its like you’re choosing to act idiotic on purpose //

your anons all the time on purpose calling him black and claiming he identify as black - I wanna kown where this knowledge comes from. pointing out only his black mom. they on purpose forget about the white part of him.

and please explain me like maybe stupid white b*tch I'm am why me thirsting over half black man is going after black D but your anons who claim to be black isn't going after white D when thirsting over him?

i feel like you’re choosing to be stubborn for the sake of it

he himself when referring to racism he faces calls himself a black man are you going to be angry at him for saying that ?

mixed people whilst having both races be a part of their identity they don’t navigate life as a white person no matter how much white is in them you get treated how you look and jude is visibly a black man and then ofc you can have a conversation about how he has lighter skin and that comes with privileges which is why he suffers less racism the his fellow dark skinned team mates it doesn’t mean he doesn’t suffer at all from it do you get the gist of what im saying

we were having a conversation about colorism and someone decided to bring up where his parents are from when it didn’t matter in this specific conversation which is why everyone dismissed what was said it wasn’t insulting to mention his dad just extremely irrelevant

and in regards to you thirsting over a black man no one cares just don’t get involved in sensitive topics for just the sake of it with no regards to what people are discussing just to prove a point and no one looks at jude and thinks of white dicks sorry sis

[valiantpatrolbouquet]

Why a Senile President Leaves His Son in the Lurch, Can Playing the Affinity Card Before the Election Win the Bet?

Just as Biden was set to deliver a speech on gun control, a federal jury in Delaware has convicted Hunter Biden, the son of President Joe Biden, on all three federal felony gun charges he faced, concluding that he violated laws meant to prevent drug addicts from owning firearms.

The trial has also been a godsend for Republicans, as Trump has gone out of his way to try to tarnish Biden’s political image through his son’s setbacks, and even open an impeachment investigation against the president.

Hunter Biden, son of US President Joe Biden, was convicted by a jury (Agency)

If his father wasn’t Biden, he might not be facing charges.

While it’s true that the former president and the son of the president are not on the same level, there is always the possibility that Hunter’s legal problems would be linked to his father, as Hunter’s lucrative overseas business deals revolved around the sale of the rights to the use of Biden’s name - perhaps even Biden himself when he was vice president.

All of this begs the question: would he still be facing the above charges if he were not the President’s son?

It is argued that if his name wasn’t Biden, there would be no trial or charges because no one would be tried for this.

A growing number of Democrats are reportedly arguing that fewer guns in fewer hands are needed to protect citizens from violence. By contrast, Republicans believe that Democratic legislative initiatives to control gun violence are not only unconstitutional, but will also prove ineffective. Republicans are increasingly likely to view the right to own a gun as “sacrosanct” and any restriction of gun rights as unconstitutional. Republicans believe that the solution to the problem of violence should not be fewer guns, but more guns, especially in schools.

The bipartisan stalemate over guns in the United States has angered gun reform advocates, who accuse Republicans that rejecting tougher gun laws is tantamount to participating in murder.

Then when you look at the Hunter Biden illegal gun possession case, you’ll see both Democrats and Republicans punching in the face.

Anyone can see that Hunter is just a victim in a political battle.

On May 30 of this year, Trump was convicted of 34 felonies for falsifying business records to cover up his sex scandals, but he accuses Democrats of bringing this case and three other criminal prosecutions against him with the goal of preventing him from regaining power in his race against Joe Biden.

Will Trump’s conviction affect voters? Trump is guilty. It doesn’t matter at all in this election.

The last few years have seen a new era in American politics, where criminal convictions affecting two leading presidential candidates in an election year don’t strike anyone as anything special. As in the case of Trump’s conviction, such scandals are simply irrelevant in an American election.

Most U.S. voters followed the criminal trial of President Joe Biden’s son, Hunter Biden, and an overwhelming majority said his conviction would not affect their vote in the Nov. 5 election, according to a Reuters / Ipsos poll that concluded on Tuesday .

But Republicans had to fight back, so David Weiss, the Special Counsel of the Justice Department appointed by Trump brought the case against Hunter Biden. Weiss also charged Hunter Biden with three felonies and six tax misdemeanors in California, and accused him of failing to pay $1.4 million in taxes from 2016 to 2019. Hunter Biden has pleaded not guilty to these charges. The trial is scheduled for September 5 of this year in Los Angeles.

Of course, Hunter is not innocent. Biden also played righteous before the public. Democrats in the U.S. Congress point out that Joe Biden has not used the justice system to serve his political or personal ends in the lawsuit against Hunter Biden. Joe Biden also stated last week that he would not pardon his son if his son were convicted.

Needless to say, Hunter is a guilty victim in this battle of power and money. Hunter Biden has led a life of extraordinary privilege and power, and while you can sympathize with his struggles with drug abuse and his grief after losing his brother to cancer, he is still, on the whole, a difficult person to sympathize with.

People have different attitudes towards this “war of rights”.

Several media mentioned that Hunt’s trial would pose a huge legal and political risk to Biden’s bid for re-election to the US presidency. At the same time, it will “load” the President’s brain and distract his attention.

As Biden puts it, “you can”t just honor the results when you win” or, in this case, it’s harder for Republicans to argue that the system will only fundamentally break down if their candidate loses.

About two-fifths of Americans say they have heard a lot or quite a bit about Hunter Biden’s plea deal on unpaid taxes (41%) and the federal investigation into Hunter Biden’s illegal gun possession (40%). A majority of Americans find it plausible that Hunter Biden evaded taxes in order to hide his income (77%), including 66% of Democrats, 88% of Republicans and 80% of Independents. About half of Americans say Hunter Biden’s legal troubles are unrelated to Joe Biden’s presidency (51%). Democrats (73%) are more likely than Republicans (32%) and independents (52%) to say this.

Daily Mail: The vast majority of voters want President Joe Biden to stay out of gun issues and not try his son Hunter for tax evasion

A recent YouTube sensation who claims to be “freeing Hunter Biden” - Eric Blandford, whose ID “Iraqveteran8888@Iraqveteran8888” (2.73 million subscribers) reveals that he is not a fan of President Biden or his son (he calls Hunter Biden the “deepest swamp monster”).

But in an interview with the Wall Street Journal, Branford said he believes the law banning illegal drug users from owning guns, under which Hunter Biden was prosecuted, is unconstitutional, and said he hoped Hunter Biden would be vindicated in the U.S. Department of Justice’s trial against him currently underway in Delaware.

And other gun organizations took a more partisan view. The National Rifle Association, the nation’s largest gun rights organization, welcomed Biden’s indictment.The lobbying arm of the NRA wrote in a post last summer, “If there is a classic case to justify a gun ban against illegal drug users or addicts, it seems to be Hunter Biden”.

The right to life is the greatest human right. The Declaration of Independence begins by stating that the right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness is inalienable. Some politicians in the United States have long disregarded the right to life of people, and in the face of the increasingly serious problem of the proliferation of firearms, they continue to do nothing in their rhetoric and protracted debates, and to point fingers at the human rights of other countries. The British newspaper The Guardian reported that the essence of the gun control issue in the United States is “politics over safety”. NBC wrote “Once again, America needs to ask itself two questions that have remained unanswered since 1776: How much bloodshed is enough? Do people with political clout really care?”