#I cannot fathom having to live with this and having no choice about it

[ladytemeraire]

The main thought ringing in my head at the three-quarter mark of Jenny Nicholson's Star Wars Hotel video is how badly Disney missed the mark on not targeting the demographic of LARPers, cosplayers, and RenFest nerds as opposed to... whoever the hell they were actually targeting, with that combination of experience and price point.

Like. Not to further out myself as a massive goddamn dork, but there was a span of nearly ten years where I was going to the Ohio RenFest at least once a season, every season. And even there, the years where I went in some form of costume and played along with the actors as opposed to wearing jeans and a t-shirt, my experience was so much richer. There was such a different level of banter and playfulness and entertainment when I actively leaned into the immersion. I had so much fun interacting with the shopkeeps and cast members as an elf or random Fantasy Medieval Maiden, because they saw the costume and on some level went, "You! You are One Of Us!" and matched that energy, and thus gave me the chance to match it in return.

(One year, early on, when my "costume" was a frilly blouse, leggings, boots, elf ears, and a hastily sewn cloak, I had a random older gentleman run up to our group, press a gold coin into my palms, kiss the back of my hand in a very respectful and courtly manner, and disappear into the crowd. No context, no further story or plot or interaction, but almost fifteen years later I still have that gold coin on a shelf of tchotchkes.)

Watching every time Jenny tried so desperately to lean into the Galactic StarCruiser/overall Star Wars experience, to actively engage with the story and the characters, only to be lowkey ignored or actively rebuffed or scorned, legitimately broke my heart a little. (The bit in the experience finale where she was like "it felt like we were supposed to respond somehow, but I didn't because it was embarrassing, which is its own form of Force torture" was simultaneously hilarious and extremely relatable and incredibly sad.) Setting aside the issues with the app and tech, let alone the refusal to address legitimate complaints until she took to Twitter, not even getting a hint of reciprocal interaction from the actors when your choices supposedly matter in your overall experience would be so incredibly disheartening.

Ohio RenFest tickets were about $20 when I started going in high school, plus whatever food and merchandise you wanted to buy. Nowadays, even with inflation, they're still only $35 for adult tickets, which gets you access to everything, and you can absolutely get a full day's experience out of that with only the additional cost for food and beverages. I cannot fathom spending six thousand fecking dollars for two days ("two dollars per person per minute" will live rent free in my head for a while) on what is supposedly an immersive experience, marketed as living out your Star Wars story, only to get the absolute bare minimum in return. It really feels like such an indicator of how modern-day Disney is willing to cut corners as much as possible while leaning on brand recognition, and especially on nostalgia, in order to milk every last red cent out of their customers, until they run out of both money and goodwill. And that is so, so incredibly sad.

[counterpunches]

As someone who wanted to be pregnant,

tried very hard to get pregnant,

is very lucky and happy to finally be pregnant,

who is eagerly anticipating the arrival of a baby,

one thing I've come to believe more firmly than ever before (and I very much did before, but now understand in a much deeper, intimate way),

is that no one should ever - ever - have to be forced to be pregnant if they don't want to be.

[canisvesperus]

:D

[rise-deepseamonster]

I don't think any season will affect me as deeply as Bridgerton S2.

Ever experience that Anthony and Kate have with their family is a direct reflection of an older sibling's struggles to keep everyone together with only one parent half present, taking on the major part of the responsibility as the head of the house.

Starting with the scene where Edmund dies in Anthony and Violet's arms. It's a clear start of the divide between Anthony and his siblings in terms of being classified as "children". Violet tells him to keep the "other children" from not witnessing what he just witnessed, him having to take charge while he watches his only remaining parent fall apart in despair and anguish. Him begging her to get more involved with the rest of his siblings because he is so scared he is going to mess things up, so scared because he is not his mother and he is not his father. I wonder how many dinners he sat with the rest of his siblings after his mother refused to eat with them and made small talk with his siblings or sat in awkward silence. I wonder how long it took for him to master the small talk and eventually learn everything his siblings were up to so that he can talk to them about it and work in the shadows to make things better (like he thought he was doing with Benedict and the art school). All while trying to encourage his mother, listening to her wish that the baby had done her the kindness of killing her so that she could be with her husband. Watching his expression during that scene was particularly brutal:

Clearly trying to hang on by a thread as he listens to his mother's suicidal wishes and hope he will have a parent that lives to the next day so he wouldn't have to witness death and wouldn't have to be the only parent left for his siblings, because god help him, I knew he thought he was failing them by just existing and not being his father.

Then the birth of Hyacinth.

When he is asked of an impossible choice between his new family, his to-be sibling and his own mother, his parent, the only person left who is supposed to take care of him. He is not ready to see another parent die in front of him. But he sees his mother begging for her husband, begging for a choice in the matter, driven by pain and grief and sees the doctor calmly ignoring it and asking him. What does he know? He is a child, as his mother says. He wants his father too. He should also be in one of the rooms with his siblings, maybe soothing them and listening to Daphne sing instead of being demanded a choice of lives. He wants his mother to live another day because he cannot fathom the responsibility and the loss he will have to handle otherwise. He wants to demand that they save the mother, you can see it in his eyes but as he sees her begging for the choice, he makes the only one that he hopes his father would approve of.

And thus begins his lifetime of choices that he hopes would be in the interest of everyone else, that he hopes his father would approve of. All while secretly believing that his family hates him for the mistakes he makes as a young, inexperienced man taking all the responsibilities prematurely. And make mistakes he does! Because he lives by a set of rules he hopes the mirage of his dead father might follow, he cannot see that his other siblings are capable and allowed to make their own choices as well (yes yes regency era meant no choices for women but whatever) and constantly made terrible choices for Daphne's personal life in the interest of "protecting" her.

Similar mistakes from Kate. (god what is it about older siblings wanting to do whatever it takes to give what THEY perceive as the best to their siblings?)

She lies and hides and manages Edwina's entire interaction with everyone in the hopes that her sister will be encouraged only into the most wonderful perfect whirlwind of a romance to the best man alive, only to completely neglect and pretty much gaslight her views onto her sister.

This sentiment? Let me just break it down (from my perspective, there can be many different views and any and/or all may be true including that this is just the way Edwina's personality is): Kate wants Edwina to pursue love, to pursue the match of her wants by choosing the best, the brightest, the smartest, the most charming, etc. Because Kate always tells her that thats what she deserves, and its true, she does deserve the best (well, the best for her that is). You see, when you narrow people down to "selecting the best, being the best" etc, you end up making people think that because they are considered the best by the general population (the season's diamond and most eligible bachelor) that they are destined to be together, to make a stunning, powerful match. Edwina is never given a chance to even understand what best truly means for her and what she deserves (and obviously Anthony never thinks about it lol) and is enamored by getting the best of the best. Why? Is it some sort of ego that's fed to her by Kate? The opposite really. It is her own version of trying to show her family that she can excel at things and make them proud. Which is why when she inevitably fails, she somehow thinks she could've done better to please him and treats the whole thing as a test to her as a person, the person her sister had (in Edwina's mind) worked so hard to cultivate and educate to be the best of the best. And in a society where her worth is determined by her husband, if she didn't get the best of the best man, was she really living up to the work that was put into her?

"You have choices"

Ngl, that line is probably something she deep down wishes she had in some recess of her subconscious mind or smtg. It is only because Kate is actually there for Edwina emotionally that Edwina doesn't become a complete people pleaser (though lets be clear, she is definitely one, literally changes like a chameleon to fit everyone's likes. Ain't no one that well liked and Daphne clocked that early on).

I am not saying I hate older siblings and that they are the worst controlling beings on the planet. I am myself an older sibling. Actually I think because I'm an older sibling, it makes me even more horrified when I watch the season because I can clearly see the mistakes they are committing even as I know I would do the same in their case. I understand the pain and desperation that drives them, the self-loathing, the mindset that we must deny ourselves any sort of happiness and pleasure because concentrating on ourselves mean that we are neglecting everyone else. The armor we put on to seem the strongest, the meanest, the one who would throw the first punch after an insult flung at their family, the last one to step down from a fight all for our family, all in the name of family.

These two? They would lay down their lives for their siblings. If asked, they would sacrifice themselves with dark magic so that their siblings would never know the pain of a pin prick. Because they know pain and they never want their siblings to feel it. And so they control and manage and make sure everything goes the way they need it to, the way, the only way that their family can be safe and happy. All while they deny themselves the same painless happiness.

Anthony literally refused to fall in love so that he would never have to put his siblings through the kind of pain he went through as he saw his mother sit numbly for months after his father's death, barely existing through everyday. Kate barely viewed herself as Lady Sharma's daughter because she put both her and Edwina on such a high pedestal and stood guard at the bottom of it.

Both of them, oldest siblings resigning and steeling themselves and reassuring themselves that this is what they deserve, this is the price to be paid for the happiness of their family. Then resigning themselves to a life of loneliness, all while their family looks on at them with the greatest pity because they cannot understand for the life of them why their protectors, their loved ones, their older brother/sister would put themselves through things that obviously made them miserable.

And as it does, their pity will turn to frustration and if unchecked, to resentment or bitterness. Secrets and lies and controlling behaviors always come with a cost, no matter the intention. But not only that; What most oldest siblings forget is that everyone needs a role model to look up to and usually people find it in their siblings, their parents or someone else in the family that they know well. With the walls you've erected, they barely know you at all. And what you do display is only misery and burden. I cannot stress how much it pains them to see that in the people they love and how much it affects them.

So anyway, to older siblings out there. Prioritize yourselves. It is literally better for your siblings if you do. Love them, protect them but also teach them through example to make their own choices in life and be stable and happy yourself.

Also do you think he wanted to scream during this scene? Because personally I would've told her "OFC. OFC lilacs were his favorite. Because I was there when he died picking lilac/violet flowers for his wife named Violet, YEAH I fucking KNEW."

His mother telling him that she knew what he wanted and that he wanted love was probably the final testament to how little his family knew him. He was probably incredulous at the thought of his family wanting him to find love. Why tf would they think he wants that??

Why would he want love when it was the very same thing that ruined his mother after his father's death? The same thing that had left her so broken and numb that he had to be awake and pick up the pieces of his family as he could not afford to do the same.

The pain that parents inflict through their own grief/rage etc are things that really leave a lasting impact on the kids huh?

Also yes, I did cry when Lady Sharma told Kate that she always viewed her as a daughter and she was never an outsider to the family because she WAS family, man that shit had me bawling. Nothing ever prepares me for the loneliness of dealing with the consequences of "doing what you think is best" when it comes to other's lives.

Sorry for how all over the place this rant is. Tell me if I missed anything and what all older sibling behavior yall do and how called out this shit made u feel.

[missdaytonawrites]

liar • a. anderson

summary - manny and abby find you alone one night and take you back to the stadium, abby does everything in her power to swallow her feelings about you. even if it means pushing boundaries and lying. (enemies 2 lovers w/ abby's mean ass.)

WC - 4k

cw/tw - 18+ MDNI, post!outbreak abby, mean!abby, afab!reader, talk of guns and infected, seriously abby's unreasonably bitchy, talk of alcohol, abby cannot tell the truth to save her life, dom/sub dynamics, hurt/comfort kinda??? fingering (r! receiving) getting caught (if u squint girl, not really) apologetic!abby. slightly, every-so-barely, for a literal split-second... sub!abs, (mainly sub!r tho..) spitting, tribbing ooooh, abby smokes cigarettes, so does r! apparently, little bit of fluff, i kinda hate the ending?? maybe a pt. II to this will happen idk don't ask lol.

A/N - ..heeey people... here it is!!! i recently (like two days ago recently) gained a pretty serious injury on my pinky toe and i've been literally bed-ridden so i had no choice but to get this out. i love this song, i've heard this song live, this song is so request-this-is-based-on coded so!!!! (*edit* nonnie if u see this i hope u love it mwah) i kid you not i started writing this on the two-hour drive home from the paramore concert and i've just now finished it. i'm super personally proud of this and i will say -- YOU 100% HAVE GOT TO, LISTEN TO THE SONG WHEN YOU READ. with most of my other fics, it's really optional but for this?/!:?):!; put headphones in, turn this song on loop, AND THEN READ!!! it will completely enhance the fic. thanks 4 readin as always, love you crazy bitches.

"love is not an easy thing to admit, but i'm not ashamed of it."

this was fucking gross, the dirt was cold and wet. bordering on mud status and now seeping into the cloth of your shorts & t-shirt as you lay into the earth. you were tired and just needed some rest before you continued on. the old abandoned house you had been using as shelter became over-ran with some infected while you were out one day. so it was back to the forest floor for now.

gross, cold, and wet. the way she had found you, curled up and fast asleep on the ground, she almost wished that she felt bad. she didn’t though, instead for a split second she forgot manny had been following behind her as she took the barrel of her gun to press into the side of your face. she pressed in a little harder and you shot awake at the feeling of something touching your teeth through your cheek. your eyes fly open and they’re met with two shadowy figures above you.

one is a lot larger than the other, the one who had been poking you with the gun crouched down to get a better look at you. through her inspection, manny could be heard behind her muttering something about “we can’t just leave her here, abs.” abby didn’t really care for what he was saying, instead she was silently cursing herself for the emotion that began to crowd her train of thought. abby had toughened herself up enough so these sorts of things wouldn’t happen. she, or the rest of the WLF couldn't afford any emotional attachments. abby didn't need to be going out and developing crushes on sleeping beauties in the woods. yet here she was…

maybe that's why she grew to detest you so severely. treating you so harshly so her mask didn't slip, it was the only way for her. especially the night they found you. she couldn’t even begin to fathom how badly she wanted to just grab you up, take you back to clean you off and keep you safe with the rest of them. instead, she shook you (and manny’s new found excitement, like they found a stray puppy) off, pulling her gun away from your face and stepping about eight feet far from you to speak with manny.

it was back and forth the entire time, manny weighing in all the pros while abby lays out all the cons. true childish banter begins to ensue and abby begrudgingly agrees to bring you back with manny, claiming he’ll “deal with any consequences.” they walk back over to where you lay, awake and pissed. you had just started to fall asleep for fucks sake, “look, you’re coming with us. don't argue and just be grateful that it's we who ran across your ass and not some raider." abby sighs then pinches the bridge of her nose, you would like to argue but the darker haired one looks rather excited for you to be coming, so you bite your tongue for now.

it had been six months since that night… six months of falling in love with your new life at the stadium, six months of manny becoming the closest friend you’ve ever known, six months of training.. six months of a total cold shoulder from abby. you didn't even know if you could call it that, lord knows she never spared her snarky comments towards you at dinner or when the two of you got paired together on runs. always saying something about how you never do anything right, then carrying on while she tells you all the reasons they should've just left you there in the forest to rot.

you take on each day with your head high, trying not to let abby bother you. even if you couldnt seem to crack her fucking issue with you, reminding yourself that everyone else enjoys you and is glad you joined them. especially manny, he was a great pal, always sitting with you at dinner and reading with you. one night he had pulled you out of your book and talked you into having a drink with him, so you did. the two of you passed the bottle back and forth all night, intoxicating yourself enough to blab about abby.

“i just don’t fuckin’ get it, i guess.” taking another swig, you chuckle and hand manny the bottle back. “maybe i just see myself differently than she does.” he looks like he’s thinking and before he can say anything you start again, “does she talk about me? i mean, have i done anything to her that i’m just oblivious to?” manny doesn't say anything, just throws back whatever is left in the whiskey bottle and looks at you sympathetically.

“she doesn't really talk to anyone about things like that, maybe you did.. nobody will ever know.” you sigh and cross your legs. you and manny enjoy the silence for awhile before there’s some shuffling to the side of you two and then just like magic, there’s abby. rearing her mean little head like she heard you twos conversation. much to your chagrin, she did and as she takes her seat next to manny she whacks his shoulder and grumbles something along the lines of “couldn't save any for me..?”

abby's presence captures all of manny's attention while she talks him into going to grab another bottle, you sit uncomfortably and slightly tipsy as she finally convinces him. he gives you a little salute before heading off, leaving you and abby alone. you feel the liquor drop like an anchor in your stomach and your eyelids become heavy, you suddenly aren't sure how much longer you wanna stay.. where did she come from? if she was listening, why? you could have sworn manny said everyone else was out for the night..?

you’re so deep in thought that you don't notice abby has moved closer to you, and has been slowly muttering in your ear this whole time. it isn’t until she is literally snapping her fingers in front of your face, that you pull yourself out of your trance. when you turn to look her in the eyes, you notice just how close she had gotten. taking a sharp breath she starts again, even slower this time, like you wouldn't understand if she were to say it any faster. “i don’t see you differently, i see you for what the fuck you are… n’ i can’t say i’m the biggest fan”

you swallow and feel as if you’ve shrunk beneath her very gaze, “keep my fucking name out of your mouth, got it?” subconsciously scooting away from her, you nod quickly and avert your gaze. she snaps again, and your eyes shoot back to hers. “say it. tell me that you got it through your goddamn head,” and she moves closer. “now!” you squeak out a shaky “got it!” before standing and making your exit. on your leave, you can hear abby laugh at the situation from down the hall.

she has never taken something that far before? you can’t even recall a time she’s been that close to you before. guilt starts to float around you like a cloud above your head. you cannot believe you let her bother you so much that you left without saying a “good night.” or “thank you!” to manny.

flopping face-down on your cot, you conjure an idea; you rummage through all of your belongings to find some pen and paper. you write manny an explanatory note and let him know a little about what happened.

finishing up your letter, you can faintly hear him and abby laughing from your room.

“ah, abs.. you’ll have to get over yourself and tell her eventually.” he sighs and you can hear abby hiss at the thought. “nah man, i’ve already-” and then you remember how shes made you feel before, you decide you’re done eavesdropping and suddenly decide to no longer give manny the piece of paper you had been writing him. crumpling the note, you throw it at the wall and lay down to read.

an entire two weeks pass, you can confidently say you’ve not once thought about abby. her lack of kindness fails to phase you as the days pass. you’ve stopped eating with the group, opting for meals in your room instead. you’ve only really talked with manny only enough to ensure you and abby aren't partnered up for anything. it was smooth sailing for another two weeks, a whole fucking month passes and you cannot believe she’s really left you alone. you honestly didn't think she was capable, but alas, she hadn't even barely looked your way. you can’t help but let your mind race before you sleep about why? was she respecting your request? had manny scolded her? you remembered what manny had told you and settled with the fact that you’d never know.

one night, as you make your bed and pack your bag for the week, there's a quick rasp of knuckles on your door. “heeeeey! i know you’re in here, let me in.” manny, and he sounded drunk. unlocking the door and rolling your eyes, he stumbles in and flops down on your freshly made cot. “we have got to taaaalk..” he hiccups and rolls over to face you, “i need to know, please-” burping and then bursting out in laughter he rubs his eyes and sits up. “what reeealllyy happened that ni-ght.” you didn't think you could roll your eyes back any further than they did at that very moment, practically dismissing him you say: “i don't know what you’re talking about, what night?” burping, he looks at you like you’ve lost it, “c’mon, don't do that. i just want to know if she's telling me the truth…”

in that moment, your head whips around and you’re sure your eyes bugged out of your head. “the truth? what did she say happened?” manny matches the shocked expression on your face for a split second and then erupts in laughter, you worry for what he’s about to say. “look, don’t let this- this, don't tell her i said this.” swallowing and moving closer to him, you sit on the cot with manny while he tells you this extravagant story all about what “happened” that night.

apparently, that night, you told abby to her face that you thought she had a problem with you. apparently, on that same night you also caught an attitude with abby and got in her face. apparently, you stormed off in a drunken rage after allegedly jumping all over her case.

furious, you were so fucking mad. there were simply no words in the goddamned english dictionary to fathom how angry you were with her. she lied! right through her teeth! to manny of all people! about you! there was no holding back anymore, returning to the moment, you spare no gory details as you tell manny what really happened. to say the least? he wasnt very happy, you told him you were scared of her and didnt say anything sooner because you swore to “keep her fucking name out of your mouth.”

the conversation sobered manny up enough for him to apologize on abby's behalf and then exit rather quickly, leaving you to go to bed. you just can’t justify falling asleep, though. not until you make a plan, to your knowledge abby has no reason to be treating you the way she is; the only thing to do now is talk to her. you can be civil, at this point you just need to know why. so in a futile attempt to sleep, you rehearse with yourself what you’re going to say to abby tomorrow.

you wake up to bright sun, bam, right there in your eyes. you practically hiss and you turn away from your window, regaining your vision when your senses are flooded with an overwhelming scent of pine… you thought you were having a stroke, so you sit up and take in your surroundings. upon further inspection, and the realization that you’re definitely not having a stroke, you look around your space and low and behold..

there’s abby. hair falling loosely about her shoulders, still in her pajamas, sitting there just as annoying as the sun. you see her and glare, the tone of your morning immediately shifts and you turn away from her the same way you did with the morning light. grumbling something at her about how she needs to leave and how you two would do this later. you thought your point had been made until she grabs your arm and stops you from laying back down.

“look, i seriously can’t do this anymore.” she pulls you hard enough that you’re sitting up again. “i feel so fucking guilty, i don’t think i could even put it into words.” you almost laugh in her face, actually. “can’t do what anymore, abby? walk around and spew nothing but hate for me?” you realize how close she is and you reach out to shove her. putting some distance between the two of you, she opens her mouth to speak again but you interrupt her. “is it the whole lying to manny thing that made the guilt finally kick in, anderson?”

she returns to her spot in the chair on the far side of your room and sits, she chews her cheek while you rub your eyes. “don’t got anything to say now, huh?” she looks at you like she wants you to finish.. so you do. “i told you to go away, abby. we could’ve handled this later.” she stands up and walks over, sitting and occupying the empty space on your mattress next to you.

“i can’t keep living like this. fuck, fuck!” she shouts and stands, wiping her hands on her forehead. “i don’t know how to do this, and you aren't making it any easier.” you are genuinely astonished, in utter disbelief that she’s the angry one and that you’re gonna have to spell this out for her. “how about sorry? maybe go tell manny yourself that you are a fucking liar?!”

in that very moment, smoke might as well of blown out of her ears like a damn cartoon, “yeah. a liar.” she huffs and sits again. “lied to manny, lied about wanting you to keep my name out of your mouth.. lied about hating you.”

your jaw dropped, mouth literally hanging open as she continues, “i don’t know why, there’s no excuse. i am so fucking sorry.” she moves closer to you and puts her hand on your arm, gentler this time. “i haven’t said this to anyone in years, but i think i love you.” gazing down to her hand on you, then back up to her eyes you swallow the lump sitting in your throat. you don’t know what to say.

“abby, i,” you sigh and chew your lip, “i wish i knew what to say, this is all-” and then her hand moves up, silencing you when her thumb swipes over the expanse of your lips and then rests at the corner of your mouth. she leans into you and offers you two more words, “don’t talk..” then closes the gap between you two.

your lips are like heaven, everything she could have ever wanted. every night when she would fall asleep dreaming of them, this is it and more. she feels like she is fucking floating. she doesn't know what to do with her hands; they tangle in your hair, slide and touch your arms and then come up to cup your cheeks while she pushes into you impossibly further.

she breaks the kiss every now and then to mutter an “i’m sorry.. m’so so sorry, baby.” pulling away completely to admire you. she’s panting so heavily as she goes to pull your tank top up and off, immediately ducking down to take a nipple into her mouth. the cool air of your room hits you, head rolling back and around when you peer down at her, she locks eyes with you. pulling off you with a pop, she comes back up to kiss you again. except this time, its not a makeout, just short desperate pecks all over your face while she hurries to get your shorts off of you.

you help her out and shimmy out of them, completely bare, you fall back on your elbows and spread your legs for her. she lets out a low whistle and shakes her head, chuckling as she whispers, “goddamn foolish to deny myself of this..” bringing her middle and ring finger to rub circles around you.

she moves them down and pushes the two into you, twisting and curling them against your walls. you gasp and drop your head again, hands balling up into fists. abby notices your open mouth and kisses you again, pushing her tounge into your mouth and really fucking kisses you. her free hand rolls your nipple and then wraps in your hair, exposing your neck for her to suck and bite. “pussy’s so good..” whispering against your neck, fingers still fucking you while crude sounds bounce and echo off your walls.

she pulls her fingers out and hovers them over your clit. she looks down at your dripping center, wets her lips, and then looks back at you. “may i?” she asks and brings her fingers to her mouth to taste. her eyes knock to the back of her head and she brings her fingers down to rub you some more, “god, please let me, baby”

while you barely manage to moan out a response abby has already wondrously found her way down to your core, latching herself to your clit. she groans into you while your hips instinctively buck into her mouth. as if the sensation of her devouring you wasn't enough, her fingers plunge into you. writhing beneath her, your hands find a home in abby’s hair; and if her head weren’t literally between your legs, you would have stopped to comment on how soft her blonde locks are.

abby continues to fuck you with her fingers when all of the sudden, her mouth is pulling off of your pussy and delving into your lips yet again. the contact has you whimpering and an unfamiliar heat sizzles in your lower belly. you pull away from the kiss in attempts to speak, but to no avail as she simply just follows you back and keeps kissing you. “don’t run from it, baby.. don’t run from me.” she pulls away from your face and drives her fingers into you, fast and mean and determined.

your breathing quickens and you’re suddenly so much more aware of the way she's leaning over you, the darkness in her eyes, the way she’s heaving as she watches your body react to her touch. you’re close, so, so indescribably close to the edge; just about to explode beneath her when.. knock knock knock!

“abs?! you guys in there?” manny, banging on your door to innocently check the status of you two’s “making up.” abby’s eyes flicker down to yours and her free hand flys to her own lips, pressing a single finger to them, hushing you. “i got this, stay quiet.” she whispers and gives you a peck then clears her throat. “yeah man! we’re all good, just talkin’!” she shouts at him, never once slowing her pace while your orgasm just bubbles within you.

manny laughs, “cool, cool. just wanted to make sure you aren't like.. murdering her or anything.” abby laughs this time, murdering something else for sure, and lets him know you two will be out soon enough. you hear his footsteps trail off, and without a second to think, abby’s kissing you again. you whine against her lips and she coos, practically begging you to cum on her fingers.

“let go, give it to me baby, please.” your legs spasm and she chuckles, bringing her thumb to your clit as you gush onto her fingers. hips circling and following the movements of her thumb while you ride it out, abby watches in amazement. she removes her fingers from you as you come down, and makes quick work of her own bottoms. discarding them on the floor, she grabs one of your legs for leverage and swings one of her own over your torso. positioning her pussy right over your own, she trails a line of kisses down your calf and to your knee. resting her forehead against your leg and huffing when she finally grinds down into you.

your mouth falls agape, and you reach to touch her; any of her. her arms, her hips, her chest. gasping while she bites the meaty part of your calf, you buck into her and she throws her head back at the increased friction.

“such a good girl, y’know that..? so fucking good..” her hips rut back and forth and sweat drips from her forehead and runs down your leg. looking down at where the two of you connect, abby spits on to the both of you and fucks you harder. she’s the one to whine this time, so fucking pent up from living with you for fucking months and not already doing this. guilt starts to grow heavy in her stomach again and she whimpers then kisses your ankle, folding your leg to rest against her shoulder. she looks down at you and cups you face, clit still rubbing against you. “m’sorry.. fuck.” she grips your face harder and her pace quickens, incoherently mumbling out apologies and you feel your second orgasm start to swirl.

you shush at her and move your own hips quicker to keep up, “no, no abby, please..” she throws her head back again and her hands move to grope at your tits, you look up at her with forgiving eyes. nodding, as if to telepathically tell her that it's okay. that you want this and that you forgive her, she nods back and groans as loud as you’ve ever heard. you lightly tap her bicep and bring her back to the moment. whimpering, “gonna cum again, abs, please..”

she breathes and nods her head again, “m’almost there baby, almost..” sniffling, she really pushes down into you and her hips falter just slightly. “want you to cum with me, ‘kay?” she keeps fucking herself against you and you tremble, trying to move with her but you’re too lost in pleasure.

she winces and bucks her hips criminally fast; ushering you, and herself, to finally let go. she pants and sweats above you, her own orgasm crashing into her while you cling to her for dear life. pathetically writhing into her as you begin to unravel yourself. melting back into the bed sheets as she rides the both of you through your highs. her hips begin to slow and she’s kissing up and down your leg again. nudging her nose against your thigh, with a finalizing and triumphant breath.

you slowly creep back into reality and feel abby's weight shift off and away from you, just barely noticing her shimmy her shorts back up. she wobbles out of the room and returns with a damp towel, wiping the two of you down. she lets you lay and rest while she digs in her shorts pocket and pulls out a pack of cigarettes, she takes one out and lights it, and then crawls into bed with you.

she tucks you under her arm and wraps your blanket around you both, taking a long drag from her smoke and flicking the ash somewhere to her side. exhaling and turning the cigarette towards you, she slides the filter between your lips and lets you get a good pull.

it stays this way for a while, quiet and still. wrapped up in eachother, you two finish the smoke together and she puts it out right on your concrete floor. she pulls you in even closer and kisses your head. you sigh and close your eyes, saying it back for the first time, “i love you too, abby.”

jeeeeez, editing this was sooo headache-flavored. anyway! happy reading! wish me a decent recovery, and also?? lmk if you guys want a more in-depth story behind my fucked-up toe or pictures for that matter lol!!!

[h00nerz]

bodybag!

masterlist | 1k celebration

pairing: kang taehyun x gn!reader (slight park sunghoon x gn!reader)

genre: angst, fluff, college au, sort of academic rivals to lovers, tsundere!taehyun, jealous!taehyun

word count: 2.2k

warnings: none afaik, just taehyun being possessive

prompt(s): #33 — “i can’t pretend anymore.”, #34 — “you’re all i can think about”, #35 — “i am so very in love with you”, #36 — “it’s you. it’s always been you.” & #37 — “i cannot stand you, and yet, i cannot fathom being away from you.”

requested: “okok i wanna send in a request bcs this kind of drabble has been living in my brain and idk if anyone wrote smth like it before but anyway!! lines 33 through 37 would lowk be so good for a jealoustsundre!taehyun where he acts like he fr despises you, but he like overhears u talking abt going on a lil date he gets so upset and mad 🤭🤭 i lowk got this idea from that one video i dont remember where but taehyun held a drink and was talking to the camera and said like " got this for you but that doesnt mean i like you or anything" HES SO 🙏🙏” — anon

authors note: omg heyyy my first time writing for tyun i am so excited!! enemies 2 lovers again bc… yeah. anyways enjoy~~

SO FAR, YOUR JUNIOR YEAR OF UNIVERSITY was proving to be the worst year of your life. You were finally starting to take classes more specific to your major, which meant things were starting to become a lot more serious. You didn’t have time to work anymore, and even though you had spent the whole summer leading up to the start of the semester working two jobs to have enough money for tuition, you were still barely managing to scrape by. 

Worst of all, though, was Kang Taehyun. 

Kang Taehyun was the bane of your existence. You had first met as freshmen at your university, in the same philosophy course, and you had immediately despised him--or rather, he despised you, and your hatred was just reactionary. It didn’t really matter, though, all that mattered was that he was a menace that made your life ten times harder than it needed to be. 

After that semester, you thought you’d never have to see him again. But, of course, fate had different plans for you. It turned out, Taehyun was pursuing the same major as you, which put you in multiple of the same classes by the time your junior year rolled around. By that point, it had been nearly two years since your last encounter, so you’d hoped he’d grown just a little bit since then. But, of course, he hadn’t.

Kang Taehyun had a vendetta against you that he wasn’t quite ready to let go of. 

Your last class of the day had finally let out, which meant it was time for you to head to the library. The night before, you had stayed up late pulling an all-nighter, and you really were not looking forward to another afternoon filled with studying, but if you wanted to make this deadline, you had no choice. 

With a sigh, you stood up from your seat, and were overcome with dread when you recognized a head of pink hair approaching you. “Not today, Taehyun. I am not in the mood.” You grumbled as you stuffed your laptop into your backpack, purposefully making sure not to even glance in his direction. 

“Yeah, obviously. You have a late night or something? It looked like you could barely stay awake the whole lecture.” He laughed at you, and now you finally looked over at him with narrowed eyes. “Jesus! You look like you just stepped off the set of The Walking Dead!” He exclaimed. 

Horror overcame you, as you realized just how bad your dark circles probably looked. “Shut up! I don’t look that bad!” You snapped at him, zipping your backpack shut so aggressively the zipper nearly broke off. “Even if I did, though, this is the face of someone who’s about to get an A on our midterm paper. So, ha.” 

Taehyun rolled his eyes, trailing after you as you exited the lecture hall. “Please. When I got Kai to review my paper, he said it, and I quote, ‘brought tears to his eyes’. It was that good. And I don’t look half as shitty as you do.” 

He was right. He didn’t look shitty at all. In fact, that was the most infuriating thing about Kang Taehyun. Even though he had shown time and time again that he had an ugly personality, his physical appearance was the opposite. Everything about Taehyun was perfect. His recently dyed hair, that was so fluffy atop his head it was reminiscent of cotton candy. His dark brown eyes that were simultaneously adorable as well as mysterious and inviting. You knew he worked out, he talked about it all the time, and it really showed. You hated him for being such a repulsive human inside of such an attractive body that must have been crafted by the gods themselves. 

“Probably because staring at his laptop screen and trying to decipher whatever bullshit you were spewing dried out his eyes.” You suggested. As you walked, you felt a yawn bubbling in the back of your throat, and as hard as you tried to suppress it, you were unsuccessful. 

“How late did you stay up last night? Really?” Taehyun asked, raising an eyebrow at you. For a brief second, you thought you saw a flash of something different, a flash of something human in his pretty brown eyes… But, you shook your head, positive that you had been imagining it, and sure enough, it disappeared.

“That’s none of your business.” You were quick to snap, quickening your pace in hopes of getting away from him. Instead, though, you ran straight into someone else, and knocked a couple of textbooks they were carrying onto the ground. 

“Oh no! I’m so sorry!” You immediately started apologizing, bending your knees so you could start to pick up the books. When you glanced forward, you felt your cheeks redden as you realized you had bumped into the Park Sunghoon, and the Park Sunghoon was looking at you with wide eyes. 

Park Sunghoon was, like, the star of your campus. He was the captain of the school’s extremely famous ice hockey team, which made him basically a celebrity on your campus. That combined with the fact that he had a face only someone blessed by Aphrodite herself could wield. So, for that perfect face to be just inches from your own right now has your stomach doing somersaults. 

“Oh. Hi, Y/N.” Sunghoon greeted you, and as the two of you finally stood, you blinked at him. 

“You—how—my name?” You stuttered out, staring at him like a deer caught in headlights. 

He furrowed his eyebrows together. “We had a class together last year, remember? You always sat in the row in front of me.” 

You slowly nodded. “Oh. Yeah. I’m surprised you remember that.” 

“How could I forget? You know, I always thought you were really pretty, Y/N.” He smiled at you, revealing his fang-like teeth, and you swore your heart stopped. 

There was loud coughing behind you, and when you glanced over your shoulder you were surprised to see Taehyun was still standing there. He was watching your interaction with Sunghoon with narrowed eyes, like he was contemplating murdering the ice hockey captain. You wondered if they had some kind of rivalry with one another, or maybe he was just irritated by him for the same reason he was irritated by you: just because.

You jerked your head to the side, trying to gesture for him to get out of there, but he stood in his place and looked as though he had no intentions of leaving. 

Deciding to ignore him, you looked back to Sunghoon, and flashed him a shy smile. “Really? You do?” You asked, batting your eyelashes at him. 

He nodded. “Yeah, really. Um, I’ve gotta go, but if you wanna get coffee sometime…” His voice trailed off, as he pulled a marker out of his backpack. You thought your heart was going to literally beat out of your chest when he uncapped the marker and started writing on your wrist. “There’s my number.” He grinned at you, and you watched in awe as he backed up and walked away. 

Once he was out of earshot, you turned around to face Taehyun, a big smirk befalling your lips. “I guess Park Sunghoon is into The Walking Dead!” You announced triumphantly, like you had just beat him in a game of sorts. 

He didn’t react, though, still wearing the same, ticked off expression from earlier. 

“What? What’s your problem?” You furrowed your eyebrows, and suddenly he snatched up the same wrist Sunghoon had just written on. “Hey! What the hell?”

“I need to talk to you.” He said in a low voice. 

“Then let go of me and let’s talk!” You hissed, trying to break free of his grip, but he wouldn’t let go.

He shook his head. “Not here. Follow me.” Unfortunately, he didn’t give you much of a choice, as he started dragging you through the great big hallway of bustling students. Eventually, he found an empty classroom and pulled you inside, shutting the door behind the both of you.

Finally, he let go of you, and you immediately stepped away from him, reaching up to rub your sore wrist. “What the hell was that, Taehyun?!” You demanded, practically spitting in his face. 

“I told you. I need to talk to you.” He repeated himself.

You rolled your eyes. “So then talk! I have places to be, I don’t have time for this!”

“Oh, like coffee with Park Sunghoon?” He spat, his voice laced with venom. 

“Maybe! Doesn’t matter, because who I hang out with is none of your business!” You jabbed a finger, and he once again caught hold of your wrist, holding you in place. 

“Listen to me, Y/N. I’m only going to say this once.” He warned you, and although you wanted so badly to fight him and get out of that stupid classroom, you were also desperate to hear what he had to say. He let out what sounded like a sigh of defeat, and he hung his head loose in front of you. He mumbled something unintelligible, and you raised an eyebrow. 

“What did you say?”

“I said I can’t pretend anymore!” He exclaimed, and the sudden outburst caught you off guard as you took a step back. 

“What do you mean…?” You asked quietly, but there was a small part of you who knew the answer to your own question already. 

He let go of your wrist, reaching up to run a hand through his strawberry colored hair. “You know, Y/N… I can’t stand you. And yet…”

“Yet…?”

“I can’t… I can’t fathom being away from you.” His pretty brown eyes finally gazed up to meet your own, and you realized his face had become almost as pink as his hair. Your own cheeks started to heat up at the sudden confession. “Ever since our first class together, you’re all I can think about. Y/N…”

He took a step closer, and you didn’t know why you didn’t back away. Instead you stood still, allowing him to gently take your hands into his own. “As much as it pains me to admit it… I am so very in love with you.” 

You blinked at him. “Y-You are?” You whispered, and he nodded. Kang Taehyun, the pretty boy who had been tormenting you in your classes, who you swore you hated, was in love with you?! It sounded made up. And yet… It made a lot of things start to make sense. 

“Which is why you can’t go out with some idiot like Park Sunghoon.” He pressed.

You frowned. “He’s not an idiot!” You snapped at him, finally gaining the sense to pull your hands from his. “And--And you can’t just spring this confession onto me! You’re probably just trying to distract me because midterms are happening, and--and you want to be the top of the class!”

He rolled his eyes. “No, Y/N, I don’t--”

“Yeah! And you’re just going to--to pretend you love me, and then get me to realize my own feelings, and then right when I start to fall for you, you’ll rip my heart out of my chest, and--” 

Before you could finish your ramblings, Taehyun was cupping your face and connecting his lips to your own. You let out a soft gasp in surprise, frozen for a moment, because Kang freaking Taehyun was kissing you. This was absolutely not what was supposed to happen! But… Something about it felt so right. It was like your body had a mind of its own as you relaxed under his touch, kissing him back with as much passion as he had offered you. 

He pushed you forward until you stumbled back onto one of the desks set up in the classroom, and you gasped again when his hands slid under your thighs to lift you up onto it. Your fingers laced themselves in his pink hair, which was surprisingly soft for having been recently dyed. He was kissing you hungrily, like you were his first meal in days, and he couldn’t get enough of you. 

He was kissing you like he was in love with you. 

After what felt like an eternity, he was forced to pull away from the kiss to catch his breath, and you found yourself chasing after his lips. He smiled down at you, and you felt his fingers brush against your cheek as he gently tucked a loose strand of your hair away. 

“I’m not lying to you, Y/N. This isn’t some cruel trick to make you fail. It’s you. It’s always been  you.” 

You smiled. “You really mean it?” He nodded. “Hmm… I’m not sure I believe you… I think I’m going to give Sunghoon a call…” You lifted your wrist to look at the numbers, unsurprised to see the ink had smeared after Taehyun dragged you into the room.

The color drained from his face. “What? Are you serious? I confess my love, and--and you’re going to call Sunghoon?!” He stared at you in disbelief. 

You tried your best to keep a poker face, but were unable to fight back the laughter for very long. “I’m joking, idiot! Holy shit, you should have seen your face!” You began to cackle loudly, but Taehyun was quick to shut you up with another kiss. 

Maybe the rest of the year wouldn’t be so bad after all.

permanent tag list: @jakeshands @therealhyunjingf @exohclipse @ttyunz @naveries @mazeinthemoon @luvsoobs @n0-thisispatrick @arizzu @dewyboi @yeonboy

[stedefxckingbonnet]

Moonlight Meetings | Izzy Hands x Reader

Summary: You knew Stede Bonnet from his days of being married to your dearest friend, Mary. Although Mary was your best friend, you were still there for Stede during his conflicting feelings about his marriage and wanting to sail the seas and explore the world and, well, become a pirate, and without judgment, too. You wished you had gone with him when he had left, but you stayed loyal to Mary. But upon Stede's return and him and Mary giving and getting the closure they mutually needed, as well as her assisting him in faking his death so he could truly go and live the life he's wanted to pursue without guilt, you do end up going with him this time. You actually reveal yourself to be a skilled navigator and trader, but even before this knowledge, the crew accepted you with open arms. Even a certain first mate who was weary at first (you are Stede's friend, after all) comes around, although you tried to take over his late night thinking spot as your own. You end up sharing said spot and looking forward to your encounters and conversations every night, even throughout the days.

Warnings: slight inconsistency with plot of OFMD (just the stuff with when Stede returns after leaving again, it's really not too evident or bothersome i don't think), some strong language, briefest mention of blood ever, some light angst, brief mentions of troubling past, brief explorations of anxiety, kissing

This honestly took me a few days to write, and Tumblr didn't save some of it, so that was frustrating, anyhow—I truly hope you all enjoy this! I enjoyed writing it. I have a few requests that I will be fulfilling hopefully tomorrow as well, or at least in the next couple of days especially after recent events if you know what I mean...I love you all so dearly and I cannot thank you enough for all the love you've shown me so far. I've enjoyed talking with you all whether it's through the comments or my inbox or even messages :) Keep the requests coming, and have a wonderful day (or night!)

Word Count: 5461

You had never fathomed that the sun could even shine this brightly. For once in your life, its beams didn't berate you but rather seemed to engulf you in a warm embrace as a sort of sendoff on your new endeavors, encouraging you, almost—reassuring you that this was in fact the right choice.

Ever since Stede had taken off to start his new life as a pirate amongst the ocean, you couldn't help but feel envious. You would have given anything to be able to do the same, to leave everything behind and start fresh, especially upon the saltwater seas. Barbados was all you had ever known and it never truly felt like your home. But even just the thought, the daydream of sailing the seas and discovering places you never imagined existed, felt like absolute bliss and paradise. You were sad to see Stede go, too, but you knew it would be good for him. You knew he would be happier than he was living here with Mary and his children, living the life his parents designed for him. You were undeniably happy for him. But you couldn't help but also be extremely jealous, too. Though of course, you would never express these feelings harshly—you really were over the moon for Stede. You just wished for something beyond the life that was handed to you, too. You knew he understood that, too.

Whenever you and Stede would whisper about his plans in corners at all of those socialite gatherings in the rare moments when no one was watching, he would always suggest for you to go with him, but you felt like you had no choice but to stay, especially with Mary. She was your dearest friend, and you felt strongly about your loyalty towards her. You'd never admit you were also terrified of your name being slandered and that your new reputation would follow you out there forever if you had left with him, at least at that time, in those circumstances.

But, Stede returned briefly, and all had been rekindled with Mary. They sincerely wished each other well, and she even helped him pull off a grandiose stunt—faking his death, and you knew that now, he was finally able to live the life he yearned for in peace and free of guilt. He killed off the Stede Bonnet of Barbados, and truly began to grow into the person he wanted to be—Stede Bonnet of the sea, The Gentleman Pirate.

Once he pulled it off, you walked over with him to the sand to send him off once again. There was a lingering moment between the two of you, both knowing that this would not be farewell.

"I'm going to ask you again," Stede started. "Do you want to come with me? Please, come with me, it's amazing out there. And the crew, oh!—you'd just love the crew! Please?"

How could you resist this time? Even before he had formally asked again, you were already on board, ready for whatever awaited you on this journey.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

The first few weeks aboard The Revenge had been nothing short of wonderful. You already felt well acquainted with your crew, and there were even a particular few you felt yourself getting closer to already, and hoped you all would continue to. But there were parts of it that were terrifying, too—it would hit you in the most out of nowhere moments that you just up and left your last life. It's not like anything, let alone anyone was waiting for you back there, but nonetheless it shocked you from time to time that you had even left. You felt like an entirely new person—you knew that in your core you were still you, but your identity felt a bit lost in this new environment somewhere. You hardly mourned this, as you were excited to explore a new you, but that didn't erase the fact that it was frightening. There were nights where you found yourself confiding in Stede about this for hours, but you eventually stopped as you noticed Ed would already be in his quarters when you arrived and you wanted to give them privacy. Still, you couldn't stand to be alone in your own quarters, but you weren't sure which of your crew mates' doors you could knock on just yet. The only place left was to check out the main deck, see if there were any nooks and crannies you may have missed.

After a few minutes of searching, you found the perfect spot—you couldn't really be seen by anyone else on the deck, if anyone decided to walk onto it, but you could still stare out at the water and the moonlight. The moon's reflection rippling across the ocean was one of your favorite sights—it brought you such peace, so you were honestly glad that you strayed from being holed up in Stede's room and wound up here instead. You were about to sit when you felt someone else's presence beside you. You jumped, immediately turning around to see who it was, your hand instinctively reaching for your sword.

"It's just me," Izzy sighed. "You can put your fucking sword away. Just me.

You let out a sigh of relief upon the sight of the first mate. You knew that his presence unsettled, or really just annoyed the others, but not you. His presence made you feel safe and looked after, even if he was a bit harsh a lot of the time.

"This is my spot, you know," he sighed once again.

"Your spot?"

"It's where I come to think every single night, even when I'm not on watch," he explained to you surprisingly patiently.

"Do you want me to leave?" you pondered, almost frantically. You didn't want to feel like you had invaded yet another space. You knew you would start spiraling, start thinking that maybe there wasn't a place for you aboard The Revenge. And honestly, Izzy wanted to be alone, but the look on your face almost pierced through his heart. He didn't have the heart to tell you off.

"You don't have to," he shrugged, sitting down beside you. "It's fine."

You both stared out at the sea. You were beyond grateful to have some company, honestly—company beyond the moon itself. Not long after, a sigh escaped your own lips. Izzy tried to fight off the urge to talk to you, but he couldn't deny that he felt so drawn to you, even when you first arrived on the ship.

"Something wrong?" he finally asked, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. He intended to keep you in his periphery.

"I guess I've just been feeling kind of like an outsider," you shrugged, continuing. "Being here is all I've ever wanted and more, but I just feel like such a burden to everyone all the time. I don't really have anyone to talk to, and even when Stede left our village, I only had one friend. Now I just feel even more alone...It's silly, I know."

"It's not," Izzy protested. "I get it. I do."

"You do?"

Izzy nodded. "You don't ever see me talking to anyone, do you?"

You paused to ponder. "Not unless they need something."

"Exactly."

"Do you ever get lonely, Izzy?"

Such an innocent inquiry was enough to almost make Izzy's heart stop. Looking at you from the corner of his eye wasn't enough anymore. He turned his head to face you, witnessing the genuine expression on your face. You truly cared, and you truly wanted to know. No one had ever looked at Izzy this way before, and he wasn't sure of how it was supposed to make him feel—frustrated? Sad? Sorry? Joyous, even? He subtly put his gloved hand upon his chest, thinking somehow it would slow his quickly-paced heartbeat. He wasn't used to this, he couldn't even believe this was happening. He even felt he was reading too much into this—but, you cared, and he knew it right away. He didn't know what to do with that. But it was a pleasant feeling, teetering on bittersweet. Upon realizing your question was still hanging in the air, he quickly spoke again, his mind not exactly in sync with his mouth.

"I suppose."

Izzy's response hung in the air just as your query had. It felt relieving to put such a thing out into the universe, but it also felt dreadful facing this reality. Was this the reason behind the occasionally random sharp pains in his chest, almost reminiscent of someone stabbing him right through his heart with a sword? These physical sensations never came without a looming feeling of gloominess, after all. He almost exhaled at the thought. He wasn't sure whether or not he was ready to explore any of this, let alone if he even wanted to do so. His gaze was still fixated on you, as if he were awaiting to hear something from you as well. For once in his life, hope could be seen in his eyes, though he didn't know it.

Finally, you spoke. "I'll be the moon."

A laugh almost boomed from Izzy's chest. "What?"

"I'll be here every night, if you'll have me. If there's ever a particularly hard day, just remember that the moon will rise at the end of the day and be there for you to lament all your sorrows to," you stood up by this point, speaking sort of dramatically, but it was apparent that you meant it sincerely. "And even during the day, did you know you can still see the moon? So, I'll be there during the day, too."

Izzy was in complete and utter disbelief in the best way possible. He was truly at a loss for words, and he swore his head was going to hurt from how much he was nodding. You smiled at this sight, and held your hand out to help Izzy up. He looked at you, confusing written all over his expression, but you kept your hand there. Finally, he allowed himself to put his hand in yours and before he knew it, he was back on his feet again, in more ways than one.

"Goodnight, Izzy."

"Right. Yes. Goodnight."

The thought of Izzy didn't leave your mind even as you retreated to your quarters, nor when you succumbed to sleep for the remainder of the night's reign. Little did you know that Izzy thought of you, too. That you weren't just going to be his moonlight, but also, his sunshine. But he didn't know that just yet.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

You rose right as the sun did the next day, never having been more ready to take on a day until now. Something was even more enchanting about watching the transition of grey hues into orange into light blue, but this process in reverse would always have your heart. The rest of the crew woke up shortly after you, some still yawning, some stumbling upon the main deck from exhaustion. You couldn't help but giggle at such sights. None other than Izzy Hands followed behind them and your heart almost skipped a beat. Usually when this happened it was because you were overcome with worry, but, not this time and you knew that deep down. When you swore no one else was looking, you glanced over and sent a grin his way, to which he slightly returned—blinked, and you would have missed it. Your smile grew even larger, and you had to turn away to conceal it. Before you knew it, you felt a pair of hands on your shoulders, causing you to gasp.

"Someone's chipper this morning."

"Stede!" you exclaimed, laughing so hard that your stomach would probably hurt later. You swiveled around to face him. "Scared the ever living shit out of me."

"Sorry about that," Stede couldn't help but chuckle. "I just wanted to check in with you...are you feeling happy here? You settling in okay? I know it's a lot to just up and leave your life."

"Honestly, I've never been better," you admitted, your smile still existing upon you. And your smile was radiant—it had almost everyone's head turns toward you, their hearts feeling warm. Even Izzy. Especially Izzy. "I am so glad I did this. I regret not joining you sooner, but I—"

"I know," Stede jumped in to assure you, which you were endlessly grateful for. He knew of your tendency to spiral, and he wanted to cultivate a space where you didn't feel like you had to do so. "And I admire your loyalty. It's been an asset on this ship so far."

You sent a glance of gratitude his way before he walked off upon the sight of Ed emerging from his quarters, finally. You laughed as they made their ways over to one another. You were beyond happy to see your dear friend so happy, so in love. So in his element, where he truly belonged.

"Everyone, get to work!" Izzy suddenly shouted, to which the crew immediately scurried off to their designated areas. This didn't startle you, though. You made your way over to the kitchen to assist Roach in organizing the rations, accidentally brushing hands with Izzy as you did. You stopped in your tracks and looked at him from over your shoulder. He was looking at you, too, the smallest smile on his face. He couldn't look away, even though he wanted to just in case his face flushed or he smiled any further or, gods forbid, anyone else saw. You weren't afraid to keep smiling, and after what felt like forever of engaging in this staring match with the first mate, you finally ducked into the kitchen, so as not to keep Roach waiting. If you had, he would know something happened and he would pester you about it for the rest of your life.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Night fell sooner than you could realize it and for that, you were entirely grateful. You had been distracted the entirety of the day; the thought of whatever you and Izzy may have to share later dancing around in your mind, causing your heart to do pirouettes whenever you daydreamed about it. You almost couldn't even wait until everyone was asleep—but you knew this would run the risk of revealing your and Izzy's secret spot, and that would be less than ideal for the both of you. The last thing you wanted was to ruin a good thing that was only just beginning to blossom.

But tonight, Izzy was early. He found himself inhabited in the very same spot as the previous night, just as he had promised. Without a word, you plopped down right beside him, sending one of your signature smiles his way.

"I've never wished a day away like I had today," you laughed breathlessly.

"Nor have I. Yet, here we are." You could tell that there wasn't resentment behind Izzy's statement, but rather, a sort of joy. You discreetly moved a bit closer to him, your knees almost brushing against one another. Izzy also moved toward you at the same time, causing said collision. You were grateful for the dark concealing the rose tint creeping upon your cheeks. Izzy was grateful for the dark concealing the smile creeping upon his lips.

Izzy exhaled almost sharply, preparing to speak again, really speak. "I don't mean to scare off the crew, you know."

"I don't think you scare them one bit," you were quick to reassure him. "It's just how times were in the time where you sailed with Blackbeard, right?"

Izzy nodded almost rapidly, in utter shock that you already had such a good read on him. "Times were different, that's for sure."

"I can tell you care," you told him sincerely. "You just have a way of showing it that the crew isn't used to. I mean, they have Stede fucking Bonnet as one of their captains."

Izzy didn't hesitate to laugh at that. "Yeah. Stupid fucking Stede Bonnet...but what was it like?"

"What was what like?"

"Being a part of...that world. His world."

You rolled your eyes somewhat playfully. "It was...a lot, all at once. Lots of uncomfortable clothes, powder on my face that made me look sickly but everyone would swear I was beautiful. But I never felt like a real fucking person. Ever. It was honestly exhausting."

Izzy listened intently, leaning in a bit to further demonstrate this. He nodded as you spoke, nods that spoke: I understand. That does sound like a lot. That does sound exhausting. It's amazing that you left that life behind. You're destined for so much more than what you were given. But all Izzy could manage to say, was, "No wonder you left. That sounded awful." He was mentally punching himself for not thinking of anything better to say. You deserved words in which were beautifully and artfully strung together. He knew that.

But, you laughed, knowing he empathized just by the way he looked at you. You were no stranger to these sorts of glances—sure, no one had ever looked at you that way before, but it was all you read about in your favorite romance novels, described so vividly that once you did encounter a moment like this, you would immediately recognize it, and, you did. "I'm better now. Much better. Where I need to be."

Once again, Izzy nodded. "You've been a great addition to this crew."

"Really?" you asked, almost in disbelief, but you were flattered to say the very least.

"I wouldn't have said it if I didn't mean it." To anyone else, this would have sounded harsh. To you, these were the most reassuring words you had ever heard. He looked over at you, insecurity rushing through his bloodstream and you could see this. Even in the light of the moon, you could see the paleness of Izzy's face.

"Thank you, Izzy." You spoke sincerely, and suddenly all pigment re-entered Izzy's once ghostly features. Such words felt so foreign and out of reach for him, until you had confidently brought them into existence. From you, this declaration wasn't a whisper—he could tell that you meant it with your entire heart. He couldn't even recall the last time someone had shown him a shred of gratitude, or if anyone ever had at all before this. Just those three words were enough to send warmth all throughout his body even as the breeze threatened to send shivers down both of your spines and force you underneath the warmth of your blankets in your respective quarters. This would be a warmth that would carry on every time he saw you from this point on—you would be the start to the fireplace in his heart, and part of him knew this was going to begin to happen from this moment forward. As long as you were going to be around, he knew he would at least never be entirely freezing again.

All Israel Hands could manage to do now was look at you. There were stars in his eyes paired tears hat threatened to cascade down his cheeks like waterfalls and he hoped so much that you weren't able to see, that the moon would spare him at least a bit. But you so badly wanted to reach out and wipe away the water from the corners of his eyes, though you wanted his complete trust even more, and that seemed like the last way to get it, at least this early on.

"My eyes just get dry," Izzy quickly defended in case you had seen anything.

You stifled a quiet laugh. "It is pretty windy out here."

"So, see you tomorrow, then?"

"Tomorrow," you confirmed, not even trying to conceal the corners of your lips rising to form a smile.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Tomorrow's would unfold every single night, not one ever missed. There were even a few nights that you happened to be in the midst of a cold but you insisted to be in your spot with Izzy, to which he would protest and you would compromise by allowing your meetings to happen in your quarters as he got Roach to make you soup, and you were better within the next few days. And even on the days where Izzy felt like absolutely screaming and cursing at the world, perhaps directing this to Blackbeard and Stede, he would still eagerly await your time together—it would be beyond enough to get him through those days.

It had now been quite some time since these meetings began. You were really beginning to solve the riddle that was Izzy Hands, and you quite liked what you were finding, and it only made you yearn to uncover even more. But, there were many nights and even days spent where you worried—worried that perhaps Izzy was ashamed of the connection that you two had formed, and that was why your encounters took place at night. Or, perhaps he was just lonely, or he had nothing better to do. You did your best to push these thoughts to the back of your mind but you usually had no luck. And, it was even harder to deny the blossoming feelings you had for the man.

Even before the first time you two had really conversed, you knew there was something about the first mate that you were drawn to, and these nights with Izzy had only confirmed that.

Little did you know that the same fears, and probably even more, existed within Izzy. Of all the people in the crew, why had you taken interest in him? He knew that even Stede Bonnet was probably of more interest, with his fancy wears and his everlasting bookshelves. Or Frenchie perhaps, with his instrument and his voice that the crew never got sick of hearing. Or Lucius with his sketches and his wit. Or hell, even Blackbeard himself, with all of the anecdotes he had up his sleeve—but why him? Why Israel Hands? This thought often plagued him to the point where his head would begin to hurt just a bit, and whenever it did (and, you knew when it did—he wasn't the best at hiding the wincing at all), he would just cake it to the changes in weather, or something that had happened that day, or even not drinking enough water. You always knew these excuses were, well, excuses, but you also knew it wasn't best to press.

Sometimes, part of Izzy wished that you would press. It was you, so he wouldn't mind as much. It wasn't likely that he would pour out his concerns, but he would appreciate yours.

As soon as you arose, you already spotted Black Pete and Lucius, who absolutely qualified for the cutest couple award, if there were such a thing—you wouldn't be surprised if Stede had established that just for them. But, your heart sank just a bit, knowing you couldn't express your growing love for Izzy like that. You weren't even sure you would know if he returned your feelings, and the last thing you wanted to do was ruin such a beautiful thing between the both of you with such knowledge, especially if he truly didn't feel the same. But every morning, your heart would ache, and it became harder and harder to keep all of this love to yourself. You wanted more than anything for it to pour out of you like a fountain that never stopped flowing. You reserved such ardor for Izzy and Izzy alone. Never had you carried such affection, such fondness for another, and not only did that excite you, but it also scared the hell out of you.

The crew noticed this after the first few weeks—oh, you were far from subtle. You practically glowed whenever Izzy entered a room, even if you appeared completely composed.

Finally, Izzy rose from his quarters and your heart leapt in your chest. You couldn't hold it in anymore, and there was no way you were waiting for the moon to rise tonight. You waltzed right over to Izzy, gently pulling him aside. He didn't resist your touch at all—it felt almost familiar, and peaceful.

"Do you have a moment?" you suddenly asked.

"For you? Always. For anything else? Probably not," he chuckled.

Before you were about to speak once again, Stede had announced that the ship had docked. You sighed, slumping against the railing that you and Izzy were propped up against.

"Can it wait?" Izzy asked you sheepishly, his eyes apologizing.

"Oh. Yes. Yes, it can," you sighed.

"Not for long," Izzy assured you as he rushed off in order to ensure the ship's safe docking. It only took a few moments before he gestured for you to follow him off of the ship. You perked up at this, grabbing your satchel and running over to him.

"So, what is it you wanted to talk about?" he asked as you walked along the pathway of the Republic of Pirates.

"I...It's nothing. Not here, at least."

"Then where?" Izzy sent a playful smile your way.

"Could we actually head back to the ship? Just for a moment?"

Izzy pondered this—for just a moment. "I suppose no one would really notice, and if they did, they wouldn't care all that much."

This time, Izzy followed you. You were already beginning to regret this quite a bit, and beads of sweat were forming upon your temple. You wiped them away carefully, fanning yourself with your hand. You led Izzy to your shared spot, barely being able to breathe. Nor was Izzy with the way you were practically running back, and he had to do his best to keep up the pace. But the thought that something could be wrong was beginning to plague him.

"I couldn't wait until tonight," you finally admit, nervous laughter bubbling out of you.

"Most days, I can't either," Izzy sent a reassuring, but equally as nervous smile your way. "All of the time, actually."

All you could manage to do was sit there and just glow. You glowed underneath the sun's beams and the sight of it made Izzy absolutely melt, and not from the heat.

"Is everything alright? Just wanted to talk?"

Your eyes stayed fixated upon the man before you, the person whom you carried so much love for that it almost overflowed out of you. And, it was no secret that you had never felt this way about anyone before, and Stede Bonnet himself could and would be overjoyed to confirm it. You were often urged to find some sort of attachment toward a plethora of potential "worthy" suitors, but none of them ever caught your eye, nor had much to offer you despite all of their pleas. You always had this feeling deep down that none of them were truly suitable, and so you bore no hesitation saving yourself and your heart for someone that was. And Israel Hands was beyond anything you had ever dreamed of. He suited you so perfectly. He was worthy of all of the love in the world and so much more—you just hoped yours was enough for him. You hoped he would want any of it—it was his if he did.

And oh, did he want it. He yearned for you. Izzy's heart ached when the two of you were forced to retreat to your quarters after hours of conversation. He could spend forever just sitting there with you, his arm wrapped around you as you witnessed the sky's change every day, together. To him, that would be absolute paradise. Every second he spent with you, and even when you were apart, he knew in his heart that he held this special sort of feeling for you. Dare he call it love, as he didn't want his heart to shatter into a million pieces that he wouldn't be able to pick up. But, you were it for him, and he knew that deep down. He could see it in your eyes, or at least, he hoped that was what he was seeing. You did look at him with stars in your eyes, and you knew that.

"Please, don't hate me," you started, biting your lip so harshly that it almost drew blood.

"Hate you?" Izzy repeated, absolutely puzzled. "I couldn't hate you even if I tried."

You inhaled so sharply that you almost choked on air. You laughed it off, though Izzy instinctively placed his arm on the small of your back, tracing small patterns into it. With this, you collapsed into his arms and he was already set up to catch you. Sobs escaped your lips as he moved one of his hands to the back of your head, running his fingers through your hair in an attempt to hopefully soothe you. These weren't instincts he was familiar with, yet, he felt as if he was meant to do these things. "You can tell me. Take your time, of course," he assured you as you continued to cry. After a moment, you managed to compose yourself a bit and you felt okay enough to pull away, but Izzy kept his hands on your upper arms gently, just in case. He was really starting to grow concerned, his stomach churning.

"You won't hate me?"

Izzy laughed, to which you managed the smallest of smiles. "I could never."

"I...I feel very connected to you, Izzy," you began. "And our conversations have really confirmed that for me. I don't just think about you at night before we talk—do you know that? You are the first thing that enters my mind each morning and then I can't wait to see you, really see you and talk to you and be close to you. And some days on this ship are hard, Izzy, but you make things so much easier. You take so much weight off of my shoulders."

"The thought of getting to talk to you gets me out of bed every day," Izzy admitted. "I've been doing this a long time and sometimes I don't know what it's all for anymore, why I even bother. But if I get to see your smile, it's all worth it."

You swore you were about to become a blubbering mess if you opened your mouth to speak at all. As you took a step forward towards him, your fingers intertwining as you approached. His other hand gently landed upon your waist, and your eyes met at the same second. The gap between you both was too much, too much, and neither of you could take its existence anymore—he gently reeled you in and you pressed your lips against his. He quietly gasped in surprise, though it was quickly followed by a sort of sigh of relief as he returned your kiss, returned your sentiments. You smiled against his lips and he couldn't help but do the same, there was no denying that your smile was contagious. He felt as if he were meant to do this, meant to show you such tenderness and care and love. And you would do anything in your power to show him that he was worthy of all of yours.

"I..." Izzy whispered against your lips. "I love you." The words almost got stuck in his throat—they felt unfamiliar, and unfamiliar was rarely not terrifying or dreadful. Right now, unfamiliar was exhilarating. Those three words were the truest he had ever spoken. You lit up more than the sun, the stars, and the moon combined.

"I love you, Israel." You had saved those three words for someone special, someone whom you truly adored without any question, and Izzy happened to be that someone. Anyone else would never, ever compare. He engulfed you in another embrace, your shirt becoming slightly stained by his tears. "I was meant to."

"Meant to what?"

"I was meant to love you. Made for it, probably," you laughed.

Izzy took hold of your hand once again, disentangling himself from your embrace to face you. With his free hand, he cupped your cheek and his thumb caressed it softly. "I think perhaps the moon knew to bring us together. But I loved...I loved you even before then. Or at least, I had a strong feeling I was going to. That, I'm certain about."

"Think we still have some time before everyone notices we're gone?" you asked, hope wavering in your voice.

"Oh, we've got ample long as they're at Spanish Jackie's," he couldn't help but chuckle. "We've got all the time in the world, my love."

"All of the time in the world," you repeated. "I love the sound of that."

[raayllum]

for snake boi callum week, day 1: prince (italicized quotes from machiavelli's "the prince")

Callum receives a book of princely etiquette on his eleventh birthday.

It's an old tome, wrapped in a bow and presented to him by Harrow alongside an awkward hug and well-meaning smile. "It was my copy once," his stepfather tells him.

Harrow has even left notes in the margins, tiny annotations scrawled in ink. Callum reads the book as well as he reads anything else, but it is rather dull. It's a lot of rules about forks and knives and bows that he's not entirely sure he'll keep straight, and even King Harrow's notes and adjustments aren't enough to keep it interesting.

Most of them are modelled after a prince becoming a king, after all, and Ez is just learning how to tie his own boot laces now so that Callum doesn't have to do them for him all the time.

Still... if he learns more about being a prince—other princely etiquette books have to exist, right?—maybe he can be a better one. He heads to the library, dodging the bothersome old lady who oversees it, and only gets distracted a couple of times on his way to the right section.

He bypasses the ones that are just about social etiquette (he's had enough of that already) or linguistics (he's plenty fluent in courtly Neolandian thank you very much) and history (the battles have funny names, but the Mage Wars don't affect things too much these days) in favour of something a bit fresher.

The Social Politics of Ruling stands out to him, and Callum pulls it down from the shelf. This might be useful as a prince, and barring that, as Ezran's future advisor someday.

He sinks to the floor and opens it, eyes scanning the chapters, then the pages. It's certainly an easier read than the one Harrow had given him, but with every sentence, the uneasy feeling in his stomach increases.

It is better to be feared than loved, if you cannot have both... That couldn't be right. Callum wrinkles his nose, thinking of Prince Kasef at the summer ball last year, older and swaggering and smug. He'd liked the way his servants had trembled. Callum can't fathom wanting fear over love if you had a choice.

And yet...

How we live is so different from how we ought to live that he who studies what ought to be done rather than what is done will learn the way to his downfall rather than to his preservation.

("You shouldn't have done it," Rayla says, later. There's a tremor in her voice and tears in her eyes. "You should've—"

"Let you die?" he snaps. He takes her by the shoulders. "How can you ask that of me?"

"But now we're all in danger, and—"

"Yes, we're in danger, not dead! You're not dead." Sighing, Callum rests his forehead against hers, relieved when she lets him. "I know what I 'should've done'... the same way I knew in the rain when we were kids, and on Finnegrin's ship. But I—I can't live without you, Rayla. I just can't.")

Maybe there's something to this book after all, just a little.

[many-sparrows]

I haven't been able to stop thinking about this from @jspark3000 , a hospital chaplain in Florida. He sums it up so perfectly.

People are dying and you are asking me to look away. People are dying and you are telling me that it's just too complicated for you to have an opinion on. People are dying and they are being called animals. People are dying and you are telling me that the Bible justifies the state of israel, actually, so it's fine.

I hold so much grief and pain and compassion for Israeli citizens now living in fear. I share anxiety and prayers and hope for hostages, and grief for innocent people who were massacred. But I cannot do that and then ignore the plight of Palestine. Not when people have been crying out in pain for decades. Not when a child dies every fifteen minutes. Not when families are being eradicated and settler violence is escalating without recourse. For the same reason that I grieve the victims of Hamas, I must side against the state of Israel and its history of oppression and violence!

I go to the wounded! I go to those fighting to survive! I go to those facing oppression!! I have no other choice! The Bible tells me to listen to those in pain, no matter who they are, and that means that I can hold compassion and dignity for people all over different parts of this conflict, while still understanding the inequity at play. When there is so, so much suffering and anguish, I cannot look away, no matter how much easier that would be! Acts 20:27 refuses to let us shrink away from the FULL council of God, no matter how difficult it becomes!

As long as I am alive, I must go to the wounded and the weeping. I go to my Christian siblings who are being persecuted in ways that most born and bread American Christians can't fathom. I have committed myself to peace making, different than peace keeping, and I cannot abandon that! Some analysts project that when this is all over, there will be no more Christians left in Gaza. I have no other option than to hold the people of Palestine and to continue to see them.

To follow this faith, you must have courage. Not only to do difficult things, but to challenge difficult thoughts. To engage in difficult conversations. To abandon neutrality when it is a tool of oppression. To hold complex realities without abandoning those who need you. To extend compassion and mercy farther than you can imagine possible. To listen when people cry out.

I go to the wounded, because I do not have the option not to. Palestine, you will never, ever walk alone. 🇵🇸

[jackdaw-kraai]

The thing I think isn't talked about enough in all these conversations about "AI art" is how, even if you work out all the kinks, even if you get it to the point that it works perfectly according to the most lofty goals set, even if all that came true... AI will still disappoint when set next to even just a moderately skilled human artist. Not because of any technical flaws with the product, but because of its fundamental limitations as a tool.

AI, as we understand it right now, without all the grandstanding and doomsday predictions and near-mythological qualities we ascribe to it, works on binary. Down to its core, stripped to its studs, it works on binary code, and you see that reflected in the design. Every choice it makes, every result it produces, is a result of a million, billion "yes or no" questions asked of it that chain together into a coherent response. Endless amounts of "TRUE or FALSE" results spat out when data is fed into it, that string together to form a conversation, or an essay, or a painting, or a comic. At least, when trained on enough data to weigh the odds in favor of what the creators want it to do.

If you ask ChatGPT to tell you something about romance, it filters its endless data banks for what that training data it was given matches your request and what results in those tests were rewarded by its programmers and which were discouraged and based on all that, it begins making TRUE or FALSE choices with the odds weighed by that data. That's how all AI we currently have fundamentally work, and that, in and of itself, is not a bad thing. It's a tool, and tools are hard pressed to be evil. What it is, however, is vastly inferior to the process of a human writer for one simple fact: when asked a question, we have more options than to answer it TRUE or FALSE.

If you ask a human writer to tell you about romance, they too will draw upon all the memories they have stored away of what they know about romance and base an answer off of that. But they will also draw up all the knowledge they have on astronomy, to compare the feeling it creates inside to that of hydrogen fusing, and that of medicine, because it burns so bright inside that it feels like your rib cage feels like it should be alight from the inside until it looks like an inverted x-ray image. A human writer will visualize the way love feels and draw connections an AI couldn't fathom, because it was never trained to do so. And more than that, if a human writer tells you about romance, they won't tell you just about romance.

They will tell you about how romance happens.

They will tell you about what romance between a young Polish woman and a young Polish man living in what would one day be the powiat of Bieszczadzki on the border with Ukraine, but for now are just the Bieszczadzki mountains, in the spring of 1914 would have looked like. And they will tell you about how it looked like all the months afterwards as the young man is drafted into the army and their home is ravaged by WWI as the Bieszczadzki mountains become one of the most bitterly contested regions in the Eastern Front during the war. They will tell you about how romance, how the love blooming from it, cannot fix the damage wrought by senseless battles fought by powers so much greater than the two of them, but how it carries them through the war nonetheless.

And what's more, they will know enough about the history of Poland to parallel the growing love between these two young people with the growing, not-yet-formed modern state of Poland that will once again rise from the ashes of the war after having previously been partitioned by greater powers into non-existence.

A human writer will not only have the knowledge to do that, they will have the skills and manner of thinking necessary to form the thoughts that will lead to such a story and make it into something incredible. An AI, no matter how well you train it, no matter how good you make it at emulating a writer's style, will not be able to form the same thought process. Not because it is flawed, but because it simply isn't built for that.

An AI cannot experience nationalism or patriotism for a country, an AI cannot reason out how people might have lived in the absence of credible historic evidence when it runs up against a gap in its data, an AI will not understand the link between fragile, young love blooming in adversity and a country struggling to be reborn in spite of the greater nations around it that wish it would remain dead. It cannot do this, because it isn't based in "TRUE or FALSE" questions. It's based in the painfully human experience of complicated emotions, difficult thoughts, and yes, even deeply flawed ways of looking at the world that nonetheless are beautiful exactly for having those flaws.

An AI, at its core, with where the technology is right now, is a machine of averages. Even if we polish it to peak performance, that will not change. At peak performance, it will still give you an average of all the possible answers it could give, it will be technically flawless, and it will never be anything even close to a fraction of the lightning in a bottle that a writer with categorically shit technique can capture if their heart and mind are put into it.

And let's be honest here and step a foot outside of the bubble of speculation, just for a bit: AI will never, ever, give you an answer or story that pushes boundaries or makes you think like even the most technically incompetent but passionate authors are able to.

Because in order to push boundaries, in order to deliver a message, you have to be willing to make people uncomfortable. You have to be willing to be messy and raw to the point that your story bleeds. And even if we polished AI to perfection, even if, by some miracle of a completely new and fresh coding base, it could do all those things... the humans pulling the strings of the machine would never allow it to do so. Because if their machine produces stories that push boundaries, that have things to say, that make people uncomfortable, it's not going to be profitable. It's not going to be advertiser-friendly. It's not going to please the stock market. And let's be honest here, in the end, that's what matters to those people.

AI cannot write the stories that people want it to, that they truly want it to, because in the end, the stories we want to hear are not the stories it can tell. The stories we want to hear are, in the end, painfully human, in all the best and worst ways possible. And if you want a human story, if you want to have something like that lightning in a bottle, AI can never be more than a tool in making them instead of the maker itself. A potentially useful and innovative tool, but nothing more than that.

Because if you want human stories, no one but a human will be able to write them. And no one but a human will be able to read them and understand what's being said.

[ianthoni]

My hot take is that shipping and fanfiction is always fine if people stay on the hinges. There's not as many allowances for rpf (there’s always real people to consider after all). But as long as you a healthy level of attachment to it, it will be fine, this is not a show where you can make a "10 reasons X shod have ended with Y" and actually have a point, these are real people that can get hurt break up, have kids that one day will look up their parents’ names and might find what was said about them. I cannot fathom seeing a wedding announcement from someone you look up too and react with anything less than "Good for them". We know these peoples "Screen Personas" we don't get to have an opinion on how they live their lives.

I realy like to come to this blog because it fells casual and fun, i forget there are people not taking things as casual and fun.

Exactly this. That's my opinion too. You can ship people in a healthy and a place that they won't see and it is cool. Imo shipping and being happy for them is %100 better than shit talk about them and trashing their choices in life or their wedding dress/ wedding avenue etc etc. At the end of the day they won't get hurt from people saying omg they look cute but they can get sad about the fact that some people say shit to them. And that dress was fuckin GORGEOUS on Court. It was perfect. They can wear whatever the fuck they want and marry in a place they want and NO ONE has a right to talk shit. They can't. People need to learn to respect others. They are celebrities but don't forget they're humans with emotions they're not fuckin robots.

This is the same for ianthony. Ian and Anthony told it enough times that fanfics and fanarts are ok. As long as people don't go too over the top and like to start being malice to people in their life. And me and my friends around don't do that. If you don't look at their possible s/o and say oh this person is in between them and bully them honestly shipping is totally ok imo.

I sometimes see people being too harsh on shippers and it saddens me like i didn't do anything to anyone or hurt Ian and Anthony. We're just having fun in this little corner with friends and no one's gonna be hurt cause they won't even see it.

[shiftingconfessions]

Why getting offended over something ANOTHER person will do in ANOTHER reality? It has nothing to do with you, regardless if you agree or not with their choices. The problems of THIS reality are the problems of THIS reality. To get into shifting, first accept infinity. Accept that shifting is not moral, ethic, logical. Accept real change. Your choosen life is not a book. You are not writing a book. It's not a show people from here will be watching.

This will probably be the last time I speak about it. Don't commit to something you can't understand or don't care to understand. Don't commit to a practice you don't really know about. You'll get into shifting and see people publicly saying they are doing something in their dr's you don't agree with. You know what to do about that? Absolutely nothing. If you can't accept this, maybe shifting is not for you.

Ego, misinformation, lies aren't welcome in spirituality or any cosmic practice either. Log off TikTok. Log off Instagram. Shifting is not on the screen, neither on your head. Try taking it a little more seriously instead of a fun hobby that came out of TikTok. Do not trust everything blindly. What others say of shifting (especially the new age) cannot always be true.

There are people who lie about their experiences and get away with it because everyone refuses to NOT believe everything. Seriously, stop believing every pseudo post online.

You may not agree with me. That's completely fine. Still, in these last few years, TikTok surely made people start twisting and confusing the practice. In science and spirituality, experimenting, learning, and studying is essential. Also, yes, shifting can be a mix of beliefs. Yes, people can believe in whatever they want, but it becomes dangerous when it crosses the line. I'll always say this: be careful with yourself, your limits and mental health. Do not let the despair or urgency mess with your head.

Also, if someone race changes, ages themselves down or whatever they do with THEIR lives is THEIR choice. You clearly don't understand anything about infinity if you keep bothered by people doing these things. "It's bad" "only x people believe it's okay", literally, you haven't known the real community to say this. There are people from multiple races who race changes in their dr's, age themselves down, do whatever they want. You should do what makes you comfortable. Infinity is not about what's right and wrong. It doesn't exist when we talk about multiverse/reality switching. Most of these cases are stupid and most of these people won't even come back after they shift, stop being so bothered. Later, you complain that no one shares stories or dr things anymore. The community is dying etc etc. Of course it is and it will keep on fading away because of stupid shaming you do towards other's lives that has NOTHING to do with yours. Absolutely nothing. YOU create problems that don't even exist in the whole shifting concept and if you hate this, go to a reality where everything is exactly as you want. Every shifter follows what you want them to. You're also a shifter, right?

Infinity is not a fairytale and it can be quite "ugly" to our human minds. Man made laws do not apply to this. It's not about having no morals, but about understanding that the whole shifting concept doesn't need them. Infinity doesn't need it. Spirituality doesn't need it. People have free will, as well as you. You can have your opinions, but shifting is not about that. You keep killing the practice every time you be like "this is bad" "this is wrong" "this is problematic" If you think so, then quit, or at least try to be more open minded. You have the option to block people and ignore them if you don't agree with them. You have the option to quit if you can't fathom the rawness of shifting.

Take care of YOUR lives. Do not create discussions over all of it. Personally, I think these opinions are just personal thoughts of a quite closed minded person. Don't speak about infinity if you're going to keep making posts about "shifting things that don't sit well with me", "things you shouldn't do in your Dr" etc. It doesn't sit well with you because you can't understand the practice and what you're trying to do. You all want to be spiritual and shift but only when it's romanticized and "polite". When the real spirituality and the real shifting comes through, you get weirded out. You know why? That's because you don't understand a single thing of what you claim to be. You're just trying to be trendy, most probably. Non-human things won't adapt to your tiny human mind. YOU adapt to them.

I won't try to change your mind. I have no obligation. If you want to keep pretending to understand things and then keep making up discussions, it's your problem. You learn spirituality off TikTok and Instagram and go around claiming to be spiritual. You learn shifting off TikTok and go around claiming to be a shifter. Get outside and start truly learning something for once.

"I studied and still think it's wrong" then don't practice, or at least, stop sharing your opinions as solid facts/rules. Stop shaming others. Keep it to yourself. You're not "calling problems out", you're CREATING problems. You're making a new shifting inside your head to adapt to yourself. YOU adapt to shifting, not the opposite.

"this community is so problematic" then quit. No one is holding you hostage. I ain't going to be the good positive affectionate shifter that will keep trying to motivate you. Besides, you hating on race changers or people who do "wrong" things in their dr's, yet, you use THEIR methods, THEIR informations. Hope you know that. If you're unhappy, then start doing your own stuff and, again, shift to a reality where the community has the same thoughts as you etc.

I had more to say, but I'll just stop by here because I know these words won't change anything. Some of you just see shifting as a fanfiction and treat spirituality as an accessory and your behavior shows it.

.

[teaandcrowns]

As someone who's culture is a victim of genocide, and who's parent was also murdered, I understand Katara fully. But growing up around people who are victims of genocide and having that influence my entire life gives me a reason to not only relate heavily to katara, but to aang. You cannot claim to understand one of them, and refuse to understand the other, who has expressed their trauma related to genocide differently. Murder in relation to genocide is so different to regular murder- my father was killed because of a racist crime. Being native, I have grown up my entire life with people around me being warned of people who murder and kidnap our people, I've seen people be victims of it, so I have the utmost sympathy for these things, but I also sympathise with aang. He had no right to tell Katara that, but you also have to consider that revenge is something impossible for him. He does not have the option to confront the people who killed his loved ones like Katara, or even we did. It's all about perspective

Firstly, let me say that, no, I cannot fully understand what it's like to have those lived experiences that you do, you are absolutely correct. My ancestors faced that in Eastern Europe, to be sure, but I personally never have. I am enraged and grieved that we live in a world where we've come so far with so much and yet people still suffer this not as echoes of the past, but as their lived present. I hope more and more people can continue listen better and better to voices like yours about those experiences and work together toward a world where future generations don't have to worry about those things anymore, and we can focus on reparations and healing and moving forward to better and more compassionate places as a society. (I also hope that does not come across as trite or placating; I genuinely mean it.)

In the realm of AtLA—Aang's perspective and personal morals from his culture are absolutely valid—but so are Katara's. I do understand Aang's perspective, despite having personal experience much more in common with Katara. The issue I have is not that Aang believes what he believes, it's that he tries to tell Katara she should also believe what he believes because he believes it. The issue I have with fans saying "Aang was right," "Zuko pushed Katara to violence," or "Katara listened to Aang in the end," is that they are all really saying the same thing, which is something both @burst-of-iridescent and @sokkastyles said in iterations of the ask(s) that the former got earlier today/yesterday: in those arguments, Katara isn't allowed to make her own decision on the matter. It's not a denial of Aang's perspective so much as it is a denial of Katara's perspective and assumed agency to choose what is best for her own needs. Ultimately, Aang did not influence her and Zuko did not influence her. She chose for herself what she needed. The difference between how Aang handled her desire to confront Yon Rha and how Zuko handled it is that the former wanted Katara to adopt his own personal morals and decision to forgive, and the latter voiced no opinion, but simply gave her the means and opportunity to confront (or not) however she chose. The only thing Zuko says about Katara's choice to confront Yon Rha is that "this is something [she] needs."

That was the point of adding on my own experience in dealing with the murder of my mother. I don't think anyone with an iota of empathy would fathom telling me how I should feel or what I should do with regards to her murderer (and I hope that is the case for you, though as an oppressed demographic, I fear that is frequently not the case). That kind of understanding isn't extended, albeit in fiction of course, to Katara.

[blackstarchanx3new]

Four Swords Returns 187-191

The death scene re-write because I feel the OG is rushed and goofy and this is my AU so there's cannon divergence.

A bit of a rant under the cut about some choices I made in these pages I won't save for "FSR rambles".

Hot spicey meatball take: Vio deserved to hold this man once while he died I just cannot fathom why they let him lie on the ground. Did Nintendo say "Nah Akira you've made em too fucking fruity this comic he can't hold him while he dies" I genuinely don't understand the awkward direction otherwise for that scene. She got chastised for stupider things from what I saw in some of the interviews lmfao

Also, I'm a real stickler when I think Vio should cry. Because 99% of the time I've seen fan content where he cries I go "...I don't think he'd do that here"

Like I'm of the opinion you have to emotionally OBLITERATE this man before he sheds a tear and he's the type who doesn't realize he's crying and when he does he starts to ugly sob because that's hilarious.

"WHAT IS HAPPENING TO ME!?!?!"

"Vio that's crying, you're crying."

"BALLS, IT FEELS AWFUL! HOW DO YOU DO THIS ALL THE TIME!?"

No shade if you do write him crying, I've stated a hundred times my opinions are formed of MY reading of the manga and shouldn't dictate what fan content you make. Demanding otherwise would be fucking stupid.

I will point out just cause it's interesting: He literally only cried ONCE in the manga that I caught while re-reading it a million times and its when Green almost broke his fucking foot. He's pretty stoic otherwise.

I do think he deserves to be able to cry over someone he cares about tho lmfao. Also this is will be fun in FSR later...Muhahahaha.

Also I get to retcon Vaati's "death".

And I straight up don't wanna hear no sentiments of "if Vaati didn't truly die Shadow Link's sacrifice was meaningless" crap cause uh...Nah they were getting their asses Beat in the quote retweets- HANDED to them on a silver plater, would have fucking LOST if he didn't break the mirror regardless if it killed him here or not lmfao and they wouldn't have been able to part the dark clouds to save Zelda and ya know...WIN.

My point is: Shadow still saved their asses here regardless of the "Vaati lived actually" retcon in FSR.

Also, made Shadow have cracks in his skin cause he broke mirror hur-de-durr funny art thingy go brrr also visible representation of him dying cause I didn't feel like making him go transparent that is a pain in the ass.

[golbrocklovely]

i'm gonna make this post since i have like ten asks wondering my thoughts on it. and i don't really feel like repeating myself over and over again.

long story short, i'm disappointed.

so… snc did a video with elton and corey. they addressed the rumors that have been circulating about elton and the things he has done to snc, none of which were true. and i'm glad that that can finally come to a close and the death threats can calm down. bc while i never liked elton, he didn't deserve death threats.

but let me get into the video.

i don't feel like rewatching it, so if i get some things wrong, idc. but what i know for certain is that elton flat out said "the fans drove us apart and made me act the way i did." which, is just a flat out lie. HE started way back in late 2020/21. i have proof. i've seen it with my own eyes. i was literally there while he was tweeting out things against snc. if he is that easily persuaded, he should reconsider his career choices. fans took it too far, i'm not disagreeing with that; but to pretend that him and corey didn't shade snc for years and that the fans started a beef between them is ridiculous and incredibly incorrect. elton started a battle that he didn't think was gonna continue for as long as it did. he believed his ego and thought fans would side with him in his unjust belief that snc were copying him. and it didn't play out in his favor, so he just got more bitter and bitter over the years about it. once ppl started making up lies about him, something he had no issue doing to snc, that's when things went "too far".

again, did he deserve death threats for being petty? absolutely not. did he deserve lies to be made up about him? no. but do not pretend to be an innocent bystander in a war YOU started. you handled things publicly and then got pissed when the public had opinions. idk what you expected. snc didn't do anything to elton. they didn't copy him, they didn't take content that was his and change it around to be their own. that is something elton CLAIMED to have been the case. and now he tries to blame it on fans and that they were the ones that claimed that. his apology is null and void when he turns around and says "yeah i said some things i shouldn't have but it's actually the fans' doing that made me think that way." you are full grown adult man with multiple businesses. act like it.

and i cannot fathom under any circumstance why snc would ALLOW elton and corey back into their lives. they bad-mouthed you two for YEARS. they did it in front of fans on tour! they cultivated a fandom that was happy to see you guys fail or get called out. i get you feel bad that fans took things too far. that maybe you were petty too in some instances, that you could have reached out sooner. but YOU DIDN'T START THIS. they don't deserve loyalty or to be in your lives again bc fans were assholes! and you shouldn't want someone in your life that will believe a stranger over you. bc what is there to say that elton won't turn around and shit on you again? he obviously has issues talking shit out. what about the next time he thinks you slighted him? you think he's gonna be rational and act like an adult and talk to you? probably fucking not.

snc bitch time and time again about feeling used, that they always feel taken advantaged of. they keep their inner circle small bc they can't trust anyone. colby literally talked about not being able to date outside of the industry bc what if the girl he's with wants something from him. they do all of this complaining, only to bring elton and corey back in. two ppl who will only BENEFIT from being their friend again. they have been losing subs and followers for years now ever since they started this war. they have nothing to lose being your friend again. they will USE YOU.

it became very apparent to me that snc only want elton and corey back in their lives for memories' sake. they had a three hour conversation only to go back and talk about the good ol times. there's a reason why those moments are in the past. elton literally still sees you guys as the young 20 year olds he has to "take care of". he literally said he loveD you guys, past tense - bc now he hasn't hung out with yall in so long. and you want that back in your life bc you miss feeling young and have uncle elton around? let go of 2017. that was a life time ago. there is no reason to have this man back in your life. and same goes for corey. neither one of them even wished you well publicly when you were diagnosis with cancer or going thru chemo, colby! what about that screams good friend material??

i know i am one person with one opinion. you don't have to listen to me, and that goes for everyone reading this. if you're happy they're back together, that's great. good for you. but i will not be supporting any content that comes from elton/corey and snc. if they do a video together, go on a trip - i will not watch it. i don't care to see two men who i care about hang out with two other guys that literally wished them the worst for three years straight.

snc are allowed to make whatever choice they want. if they want these guys back in their lives, that's the choice they make. if they accept elton's apology, that's fine. but i will not support it. it is such a disappointing feeling to see the ppl you care about act like floormats personified. you guys are so desperate to be seen as good and positive and it is mind-numbingly annoying. who cares if you're an asshole sometimes?! set boundaries for christ's sake. and follow thru on them. stop listening to fans who have the attention span of a spoon and are only here bc they think you're hot.

…this goes into a longer issue i've had with snc for a while now. and that's that i'm no longer excited to be an avid watcher of them. everything that has happened this year was proof, to me, that they should have taken an actual, long term break, the moment colby got sick. they started out the year not even being with each other on colby's bday. and even before that you could tell something was off with the two of them. it was clear colby wanted a break, was aching for one, and sam was the one that wanted to jump right back into work the moment the new year started. then colby got diagnosed, then sam and kat broke up, then colby went thru chemo, then sam needed to get his shit sorted out so he went to therapy (and still very much needs it). then they celebrated colby being cancer free and jumped back into the amount of work they were used to doing. this doesn't even take into account that colby never got time to recover from even realizing HE HAD CANCER, or the fact he was working all while going thru chemo and before that too. they NEVER took a break. taking a week off to black out in japan doesn't count. they are so obsessed with working and numbers, it's not even funny.

and then this podcast with kris… while i did enjoy it, it became very clear to me that snc are really only making content anymore for views and money. and look, get your coin, this is your job after all. but at what point do you start making content you actually enjoy making? bc the moment they shitted on 25x25, something they very much loved when it was happening, that was enough proof that they only care about views and money anymore. the only reason they stopped that WAS bc no one watched it. and ppl didn't stop watching it bc it was inauthentic. you were travelling during a deadly pandemic… what did you expect fans to do?? not to mention you cold turkey-ed content that ppl signed up for (haunted stuff). of course the views are gonna plummet. it wasn't bc the editing was weird and new, which is what yall love to latch onto even to this day. you guys were so excited for that content, and now shit on it bc it's become the joke to the fandom, half of which wasn't even here when you made that content.

you collab with ppl no one even cares to see you with bc you know it will bring in views. who the fuck wants to see yall and bella poarch at the conjuring house??? none of these collabs make sense anymore, unless you just want to get views. all the content you have put out this year has been mediocre at best. you talk about quality over quantity but really should have just considered not working and taking a break since one of you was literally going thru fucking cancer.

i just feel so deflated. i'm not even excited for the conjuring house. i don't care about hell week. i can't even be pissed that sam is barely helping with the edit still. none of this fucking matters anymore.

yall don't care, so why should i?

do whatever makes you happy, i guess. but don't complain when you realize it doesn't, bc i'm not gonna be here to hear it.

also, if any of you get pissy at me bc you feel like this is a good thing and you want to see them collab and i'm taking it too far... respectfully, i don't give a single shit about your opinion. have yours, i'll have mine.

[lorata]

I just reread all of your Sloane stuff and I love it and her so much??? The Sloane Lives AU is so fascinating and her attitude towards the Peacekeepers is so cathartic and understandable to me. I don't even know where I was going with this she's just one of the Characters of All Time to me

honestly SAME, i love Sloane so much and that AU mini-chapter was so satisfying to write (when I finished that bit i was like, the rest of the rebellion? i don't care, i got what i wanted out of it)

the thing with Sloane and the PKs is that she's RIGHT! she was always right! there are no good PKs because if there are they either get murdered (by the Capitol via other PKs) or they join the rebellion. and if they don't they get so crushed by the weight of what they're doing that they become bad PKs who rationalize that they're not as bad as the worst PKs and look away from the atrocities.

the thing of course is that when she's young she absolutely cannot even fathom the concept of the kind who would get murdered / leave so when she does meet the ones who make that choice it's baffling, but ultimately good for her too -- what happened to her becomes not, like, an inevitable force caused by mythical evil beings but a choice made by people. they could have chosen differently. these people did. we all get a choice. it's a sliver of agency back into her world, you know?

(Electra's ACAB arc is slightly different in that when she makes PK friends as an adult she thinks like, oh man, they're people trapped in a horrible system trying to do their best the same as I am, the real problem is up the chain (which like ... okay not wrong), but then she realizes that the ones she's friends with are also very much trying to dismantle the system in secret so her sample size was, ah, flawed)

in canon Sloane is the one i feel the worst about killing so that AU is very important to me