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#no because i really literally do need this so bad
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How can you consider yourself any sort of leftist when you defend AI art bullshit? You literally simp for AI techbros and have the gall to pretend you're against big corporations?? Get fucked
I don't "defend" AI art. I think a particular old post of mine that a lot of people tend to read in bad faith must be making the rounds again lmao.
Took me a good while to reply to this because you know what? I decided to make something positive out of this and use this as an opportunity to outline what I ACTUALLY believe about AI art. If anyone seeing this decides to read it in good or bad faith... Welp, your choice I guess.
I have several criticisms of the way the proliferation of AI art generators and LLMs is making a lot of things worse. Some of these are things I have voiced in the past, some of these are things I haven't until now:
Most image and text AI generators are fine-tuned to produce nothing but the most agreeable, generically pretty content slop, pretty much immediately squandering their potential to be used as genuinely interesting artistic tools with anything to offer in terms of a unique aesthetic experience (AI video still manages to look bizarre and interesting but it's getting there too)
In the entertainment industry and a lot of other fields, AI image generation is getting incorporated into production pipelines in ways that lead to the immiseration of working artists, being used to justify either lower wages or straight-up layoffs, and this is something that needs to be fought against. That's why I unconditionally supported the SAG-AFTRA strikes last year and will unconditionally support any collective action to address AI art as a concrete labor issue
In most fields where it's being integrated, AI art is vastly inferior to human artists in any use case where you need anything other than to make a superficially pretty picture really fast. If you need to do anything like ask for revisions or minor corrections, give very specific descriptions of how objects and people are interacting with each other, or just like. generate several pictures of the same thing and have them stay consistent with each other, you NEED human artists and it's preposterous to think they can be replaced by AI.
There is a lot of art of the internet that consists of the most generically pretty, cookie-cutter anime waifu-adjacent slop that has zero artistic or emotional value to either the people seeing it or the person churning it out, and while this certainly was A Thing before the advent of AI art generators, generative AI has made it extremely easy to become the kind of person who churns it out and floods online art spaces with it.
Similarly, LLMs make it extremely easy to generate massive volumes of texts, pages, articles, listicles and what have you that are generic vapid SEO-friendly pap at best and bizzarre nonsense misinformation at worst, drowning useful information in a sea of vapid noise and rendering internet searches increasingly useless.
The way LLMs are being incorporated into customer service and similar services not only, again, encourages further immiseration of customer service workers, but it's also completely useless for most customers.
A very annoyingly vocal part the population of AI art enthusiasts, fanatics and promoters do tend to talk about it in a way that directly or indirectly demeans the merit and skill of human artists and implies that they think of anyone who sees anything worthwile in the process of creation itself rather than the end product as stupid or deluded.
So you can probably tell by now that I don't hold AI art or writing in very high regard. However (and here's the part that'll get me called an AI techbro, or get people telling me that I'm just jealous of REAL artists because I lack the drive to create art of my own, or whatever else) I do have some criticisms of the way people have been responding to it, and have voiced such criticisms in the past.
I think a lot of the opposition to AI art has critstallized around unexamined gut reactions, whipping up a moral panic, and pressure to outwardly display an acceptable level of disdain for it. And in particular I think this climate has made a lot of people very prone to either uncritically entertain and adopt regressive ideas about Intellectual Propety, OR reveal previously held regressive ideas about Intellectual Property that are now suddenly more socially acceptable to express:
(I wanna preface this section by stating that I'm a staunch intellectual property abolitionist for the same reason I'm a private property abolitionist. If you think the existence of intellectual property is a good thing, a lot of my ideas about a lot of stuff are gonna be unpalatable to you. Not much I can do about it.)
A lot of people are suddenly throwing their support behind any proposal that promises stricter copyright regulations to combat AI art, when a lot of these also have the potential to severely udnermine fair use laws and fuck over a lot of independent artist for the benefit of big companies.
It was very worrying to see a lot of fanfic authors in particular clap for the George R R Martin OpenAI lawsuit because well... a lot of them don't realize that fanfic is a hobby that's in a position that's VERY legally precarious at best, that legally speaking using someone else's characters in your fanfic is a much of a violation of copyright law as stright up stealing entire passages, and that any regulation that can be used against the latter can be extended against the former.
Similarly, a lot of artists were cheering for the lawsuit against AI art models trained to mimic the style of specific artists. Which I agree is an extremely scummy thinbg to do (just like a human artist making a living from ripping off someone else's work is also extremely scummy), but I don't think every scummy act necessarily needs to be punishable by law, and some of them would in fact leave people worse off if they were. All this to say: If you are an artist, and ESPECIALLY a fan artist, trust me. You DON'T wanna live in a world where there's precedent for people's artstyles to be considered intellectual property in any legally enforceable way. I know you wanna hurt AI art people but this is one avenue that's not worth it.
Especially worrying to me as an indie musician has been to see people mention the strict copyright laws of the music industry as a positive thing that they wanna emulate. "this would never happen in the music industry because they value their artists copyright" idk maybe this is a the grass is greener type of situation but I'm telling you, you DON'T wanna live in a world where copyright law in the visual arts world works the way it does in the music industry. It's not worth it.
I've seen at least one person compare AI art model training to music sampling and say "there's a reason why they cracked down on sampling" as if the death of sampling due to stricter copyright laws was a good thing and not literally one of the worst things to happen in the history of music which nearly destroyed several primarily black music genres. Of course this is anecdotal because it's just One Guy I Saw Once, but you can see what I mean about how uncritical support for copyright law as a tool against AI can lead people to adopt increasingly regressive ideas about copyright.
Similarly, I've seen at least one person go "you know what? Collages should be considered art theft too, fuck you" over an argument where someone else compared AI art to collages. Again, same point as above.
Similarly, I take issue with the way a lot of people seem EXTREMELY personally invested in proving AI art is Not Real Art. I not only find this discussion unproductive, but also similarly dangerously prone to validating very reactionary ideas about The Nature Of Art that shouldn't really be entertained. Also it's a discussion rife with intellectual dishonesty and unevenly applied definition as standards.
When a lot of people present the argument of AI art not being art because the definition of art is this and that, they try to pretend that this is the definition of art the've always operated under and believed in, even when a lot of the time it's blatantly obvious that they're constructing their definition on the spot and deliberately trying to do so in such a way that it doesn't include AI art.
They never succeed at it, btw. I've seen several dozen different "AI art isn't art because art is [definition]". I've seen exactly zero of those where trying to seriously apply that definition in any context outside of trying to prove AI art isn't art doesn't end up in it accidentally excluding one or more non-AI artforms, usually reflecting the author's blindspots with regard to the different forms of artistic expression.
(However, this is moot because, again, these are rarely definitions that these people actually believe in or adhere to outside of trying to win "Is AI art real art?" discussions.)
Especially worrying when the definition they construct is built around stuff like Effort or Skill or Dedication or The Divine Human Spirit. You would not be happy about the kinds of art that have traditionally been excluded from Real Art using similar definitions.
Seriously when everyone was celebrating that the Catholic Church came out to say AI art isn't real art and sharing it as if it was validating and not Extremely Worrying that the arguments they'd been using against AI art sounded nearly identical to things TradCaths believe I was like. Well alright :T You can make all the "I never thought I'd die fighting side by side with a catholic" legolas and gimli memes you want, but it won't change the fact that the argument being made by the catholic church was a profoundly conservative one and nearly identical to arguments used to dismiss the artistic merit of certain forms of "degenerate" art and everyone was just uncritically sharing it, completely unconcerned with what kind of worldview they were lending validity to by sharing it.
Remember when the discourse about the Gay Sex cats pic was going on? One of the things I remember the most from that time was when someone went "Tell me a definition of art that excludes this picture without also excluding Fountain by Duchamp" and how just. Literally no one was able to do it. A LOT of people tried to argue some variation of "Well, Fountain is art and this image isn't because what turns fountain into art is Intent. Duchamp's choice to show a urinal at an art gallery as if it was art confers it an element of artistic intent that this image lacks" when like. Didn't by that same logic OP's choice to post the image on tumblr as if it was art also confer it artistic intent in the same way? Didn't that argument actually kinda end up accidentally validating the artistic status of every piece of AI art ever posted on social media? That moment it clicked for me that a lot of these definitions require applying certain concepts extremely selectively in order to make sense for the people using them.
A lot of people also try to argue it isn't Real Art based on the fact that most AI art is vapid but like. If being vapid definitionally excludes something from being art you're going to have to exclude a whooole lot of stuff along with it. AI art is vapid. A lot of art is too, I don't think this argument works either.
Like, look, I'm not really invested in trying to argue in favor of The Artistic Merits of AI art but I also find it extremely hard to ignore how trying to categorically define AI art as Not Real Art not only is unproductive but also requires either a) applying certain parts of your definition of art extremely selectively, b) constructing a definition of art so convoluted and full of weird caveats as to be functionally useless, or c) validating extremely reactionary conservative ideas about what Real Art is.
Some stray thoughts that don't fit any of the above sections.
I've occassionally seen people respond to AI art being used for shitposts like "A lot of people have affordable commissions, you could have paid someone like $30 to draw this for you instead of using the plagiarism algorithm and exploiting the work of real artists" and sorry but if you consider paying an artist a rate that amounts to like $5 for several hours of work a LESS exploitative alternative I think you've got something fucked up going on with your priorities.
Also it's kinda funny when people comment on the aforementioned shitposts with some variation of "see, the usage of AI art robs it of all humor because the thing that makes shitposts funny is when you consider the fact that someone would spend so much time and effort in something so stupid" because like. Yeah that is part of the humor SOMETIMES but also people share and laugh at low effort shitposts all the time. Again you're constructing a definition that you don't actually believe in anywhere outside of this type of conversations. Just say you don't like that it's AI art because you think it's morally wrong and stop being disingenuous.
So yeah, this is pretty much everything I believe about the topic.
I don't "defend" AI art, but my opposition to it is firmly rooted in my principles, and that means I refuse to uncritically accept any anti-AI art argument that goes against those same principles.
If you think not accepting and parroting every Anti-AI art argument I encounter because some of them are ideologically rooted in things I disagree with makes me indistinguishable from "AI techbros" you're working under a fucked up dichotomy.
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starry-bi-sky · 1 day
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Danyal Al Ghul: Incorrect Quotes and Miscellaneous Thoughts
Incorrect quotes-style snippets specifically for my danyal al ghul au here (which i really need to come up with a unique au name for atp). Because I thought it'd be funny. And also some miscellaneous headcanons thrown into the mix. Some context for the au: - Danyal is 5 years older than Damian (so 10 and 15) - Danny faked his death when he was 10. Talia knows and helped him with it. - Jazz, Sam, and Tucker do not know he's an ex-assassin.
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Danny, dryly tapping his temple: I have, as the Americans say, irreparable psychological damage, right here.
Jazz, an older sibling first and foremost: well, it's good that you're self-aware.
-------- Snippet 2
Danny, aged 10, in the American foster planning to just age out of the system: *emanating Bad Vibes. Pure, Little Orphan Tom Riddle Energy*
Jazz, aged 12, coming in to adopt a new sibling with her parents: Him. This is my brother now :)
Danny: ...what
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Lilo and Stitch is Danny's favorite Disney movie. He watched it when he was 11 with Jazz when she was attempting to connect with him, and by this point Danny was becoming receptive to her efforts. They had a movie marathon in the living room one night.
Safe to say? It resonated with his little 11 year old heart strongly, and he related very strongly with both Nani and Stitch. He got unexpectedly emotional and hid in his room for the rest of the night. Jazz felt really bad, but it had the intended (but kinda unexpected) effect of him trying to be nicer to her afterwards.
-------- Snippet 3
Dash, aged 12, causing trouble again and getting intercepted by Danny: *scaling up a desk* AHHHHH! GET YOUR LITTLE FREAK, FOLEY!
Tucker: Hey! Danny is not a freak!
Dash: GET HIM TO BACK OFF
Tucker, was the kid Dash was messing with: ....whats in it for me
-------- Snippet 4
Danny, saying some questionably immoral shit: What. Why are you looking at me like that.
Tucker: Bro. I mean this as kindly as possible; what the fuck?
Sam: yeah, I'm with Tuck on this one.
-------- Snippet 5
Danny, ranting about Vlad: if it weren't for the laws of this land, I would have slaughtered him
Sam, painting his nails black: I'm pretty sure you'd slaughter him regardless of the laws of the land -- and quit moving, you're gonna mess me up.
Tucker: we've literally seen you debate yourself about this, Dan
Danny: ...you are correct, but it is the principle of things.
-------- Snippet 6
Vlad: I have experience my child, and the money and power attained through using those powers for personal gain, you say. I could train you, teach you everything I know! And all you have to do is renounce that idiot adoptive father of yours.
Danny, was already contemplating committing a Violence: ....
Danny, internally: I'm going to stab him *turns into Phantom*
--------
Funny contrast I realized between Danyal and Vlad that iirc I haven't pointed out yet is that imo, Danyal doesn't rely on his powers nearly half as much as canon Danny does. He falls back instinctually on his League training, and thus sometimes forgets to use his powers in battle. This was prevalent especially early on when he was still getting used to the whole 'halfa' thing.
He incorporates them more often after a year, but still for the most part relies on his own physical hand-to-hand combat. He trusts those skills much more than he does his powers. I'm not sure where he is on a technical level compared to canon, but just to stay safe I'll say he's similar in power skill as canon Danny. Perhaps a little more finessed than him because his League training would probably have him trying to figure out his powers as soon as possible.
But in summary? Danny is strong in hand-to-hand combat, weak in powerset.
Meanwhile Vlad is the opposite. I can't recall if he even knows hand-to-hand in canon, but it makes total sense to me that Vlad Masters wouldn't because he's so confident in his monetary influence and ghost abilities that he sees no need for it.
And he's kinda got some merit behind it. He's very powerful and has 20 years of experience to experiment and fine tune his powers. He's got bite to follow up his bark. He's perfected long-range combat and his ability to phase through walls makes it impossible to corner him, but if you can manage it, then one good hit could probably knock him on his ass.
So in summary, Vlad is strong in powerset, weak in hand-to-hand combat.
And it casts a good contrast between the two of them in that regard. Danny, as a fellow halfa, can follow Vlad when he phases through walls and is fast enough to land a hit on him. His league training as an assassin, albeit rusty, is still deep ingrained enough in him that he can hold up as a rather veritable threat against Vlad without needing his powers.
But Vlad can force Danny to use his powers more often through use of his own. The duplication is the first thing to come to mind: Danny's fast enough to dispel them on his own without powers, and smart enough that he could figure out who the real one is if given a few minute. But that's not always efficient enough.
Good foils for each other that way. Also Vlad's Plasmius design mimics Ra's juuust enough that he looks like Ra's knockoff loser second cousin no one talks about, which only fuels Danny's hatred.
-------- Snippet 7
Danny, ranting about Vlad for the first time: --and it's only made worse by the fact that the little ingrate resembles a cheap knock-off of my grandfather!--
Sam, choking on her water: he what--
Tucker, doing a spittake: HE DOES?
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lady-raziel · 2 days
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ALSO although i'm sure people are so fucking sick of hearing my thoughts by this point, I'd like to shut down the idea that because this essentially happened over the weekend that should excuse the lack of response (since watcher doesn't work weekends or so i've heard). look, i'm a person who totally supports a work-life balance and leaving work at the office. nobody deserves to be on call 24/7. that's not healthy and it doesn't make anyone more effective at their job.
however. there is a difference between logging out from a normal workday and logging out after you've just dropped a huge announcement that you've been hyping up, and doing so on a Friday afternoon before a tour. if a brand crisis occurs outside of work hours on a perfectly normal day, there's a little more leeway in not jumping on it right away as opposed to a time when you absolutely should be monitoring digital response, if only to pick out your favorite memes and posts to share on your socials (in the alternate universe where this subscription service move went really well and everyone loved it). not knowing what's going on at a time when you shouldn't be expected to know what's going on is pretty different than doing nothing when you absolutely should be watching for company news outside of normal hours.
all that being said, even in the first case where something bad happens that you need to take action on outside of work hours, waiting until Monday morning to do anything while the problem gets worse, particularly in a case like this with so much on the line, would get pretty much every comms or PR person I know severely reprimanded or fired. yes, you have a set work schedule each week. but in the end your job is to protect the brand, and you don't get to decide when threats come at you. your job is to formulate a response as soon as you know there's a problem. if you don't do that? you don't have a job anymore.
i say this with the full knowledge that watcher likely doesn't have a full "director of communications" role that entails reputation management on staff. They have a social media manager, yes, but full on corporate communications and all this other stuff really isn't (and shouldn't be!) that person's job description. (as a person who's worked as a social media manager i have a lot of thoughts about how other roles get smushed into that one and how that's not good for anyone, but that's another post.)
is it possible that watcher has contracted an outside firm to do PR/communications? sure. but in that case, a professional firm would ABSOLUTELY be on call over the weekend to help a client. that would literally be part of the fee paid to them. if they are paying a firm, and that firm hasn't helped them formulate a response and gotten it out by now, then they need to fire that group immediately. and also factor this into the conversation about money management if they've been paying a firm (none of which are cheap!) and getting such a horrible return on investment.
long story short, if your office building caught fire over the weekend, would you wait until Monday morning to do something? even if you don't own a fire extinguisher? even if you don't have a local fire department you can call? even if you were the one who set the building on fire? no-- because by then you might not even have an office anymore. emergencies aren't 9-to-5 problems.
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1d1195 · 2 days
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Ding - Round 3
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Read Ding here | ~6.5k words
Warnings: scummy man appearance, angst involving the frustration/grief/sadness of the last part regarding her shitty experience with said scummy man, fluff
Summary: Harry wants to know what happened to Cupcake. She really isn't sure she wants to tell him. Until she has to.
From me: NEW DIVIDER BY @babegoals THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR CREATIVITY AND SUPPORT AND JUST EXISTING 💕
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Harry was mad.
Fuming. He had thought about nothing else but seeing her for the last two months and now that he had seen her, he was pissed to see her at his self-defense class. He asked her the same question about ten times throughout the instruction. He was furious and irritated that everyone else needed his help (even though it was literally what he was being paid for) when all he wanted was to talk to her.
He was all for helping women feel empowered. But he was mad she needed it. He knew she was feisty. The fact that she was there said a lot in its own right. The way she bantered with him until three in the morning texting him the other night made him smile more than he could describe. It was flirty and sweet. But always had him guessing if she would suddenly stop messaging for one reason or another.
Someone like her needed someone—maybe even someone like Harry—to make sure nothing bad ever happened to her. And he knew. He knew why women went to self-defense classes. He had been teaching these classes since before he owned his own gym.
He knew.
"Why are y’here, Cupcake?" He asked gruffly. The other women nearby were all but forgotten. One was mid-sentence, asking to clarify something Louis had said. Harry was practically rude to just ignore her question in favor of his own.
“Umm... for self-defense,” she muttered trying to focus on Louis’ answer.
Harry didn’t want her banter right now. (As cute as it was to him, despite his irritation.) “Right. But usually everyone has a story that... convinces themselves t’sign up. So what’s your story?” He repeated.
He watched the way her cheeks warmed at his assessment, and she folded her arms protectively in front of her. Guarding herself. “That’s kind of personal, Harry.”
Once Harry’s anger took hold, it was hard to backtrack. “Listen,” he shook his head. The annoyance that clouded his eyes and covered his face was so obvious, she felt the slightest bit bad about interrupting his lesson with her own issues. “M’not good at this kind of thing, Cupcake. Being subtle. I punch people for a minimal living and work the rest of m’time here, teaching people how t’punch.”
Part of her wanted to break down and tell him. Because as much as she was willing to do this on her own, she was so scared. That nervousness made her feel even weaker, and she wanted to tell Harry, she realized. She wanted someone to know and to help her because this wasn’t something she wanted to deal with on her own—it was too much.
But she couldn’t do it right in the middle of a self-defense lesson, surrounded by strangers. “I’m here to learn how to punch,” her voice was even and final.
His nostrils flared and he stalked back to the front of the room, a trail of anger coming off him as he did. He wasn’t going to get anywhere with her.
The remainder of the lesson went by without incident on Harry’s part. He watched her the entire time. The way she flinched when they practiced moves made him nauseous. But he couldn’t help but notice how good her stances were. Almost natural. “Hey, love,” Louis smiled at her kindly as he geared up to practice more tactile moves. “You liked his match so much you wanted to try on your own?” He asked.
She smiled, but it didn’t fully reach her eyes. “Something like that.”
“It’s good skills to have,” he assured her gently, because even though Harry’s infatuation annoyed him at the time, he knew Harry liked her. A lot. Knew just as well as Harry did why women signed up for a self-defense class. “You have a very natural stance,” he noted. “We should get you in the ring,” he winked at her.
She laughed lightly. “I don’t even know how to make a fist,” she snorted.
Louis chuckled giving her a gentle shoulder squeeze and moved onto the next person.
Harry moved in front of her next and he looked at her footing. Aligned near perfectly and practiced as if she had been doing it her whole life. He was still steaming with anger. It rolled off him and demanded to be felt—and she felt every bit of it. “S’like you’ve done this before,” he muttered.
“I haven’t,” she answered. “I’m just good at following directions. Like a recipe, you know?”
He was staring at her feet and trailed up to her hand where he carefully took hold of her delicate fingers. Instantly, it felt like her whole arm was made of jelly. Her heart took off about the speed of an airplane and she was lucky she could hear anything over the sound of it. Harry touching her skin made her feel faint. Carefully, he bent her fingers and tucked her thumb below the flat of her knuckles. It felt so intimate it seemed wrong to be doing this in a class put on for the public. Holding her wrist, he brought her fist to his cheek and tapped it against his skin a few times. “Like that,” he murmured.
She wanted to be cute and smile. Say something like, I’ll keep that in mind for strangers in dark parking lots when I ding their car. But instead, she was overcome with gratitude for the knowledge and a bit of awe. She was speechless without meaning to be. He released her wrist, and she wanted nothing more than to grab his hand again and never let go. “Thank you,” she whispered. He nodded sullenly.
Harry felt defeated—something he didn’t enjoy at all. Rarely did he feel it, but he wished he felt defeated after a match more so than he did right then. All he could do was walk away from her and finish the lesson without chatting with her again.
*
In hindsight, confronting her in the middle of a self-defense lesson wasn’t his wisest choice. The following morning, he had a renewed spirit and was once more determined to chat with her and figure out what made her join a self-defense class.
What he hadn’t anticipated was how stubborn she could be. He should have known but he was willing to dig his heels in as long as she was. Harry went to the bakery morning, noon, and night—literally—trying to figure out her schedule. “Again?” The girl behind the counter asked suspiciously when they returned at four in the afternoon on the third day of waiting. She had been there all day and hadn’t said anything up until their third arrival.
Niall shook his head and sighed. “Sorry, darling. He’s being super creepy, yeah?” Niall elbowed him with irritation. They sat at a table as they had the last few days. They didn’t stay long, only fifteen minutes to half an hour. (And they only stayed half an hour once because Niall had to get one of the cronuts that he had been pining for since he saw them.)
Harry was looking at their text message thread. The last message was from him. Are you working now? C’mon, Cupcake, you’re killing me here :(
It went unanswered since yesterday afternoon.
“He’s trying to talk to Miss Cupcake,” Niall rolled his eyes. He missed the back and forth between the girl behind the counter. “But I think he’s being a bit ridiculous.”
“Oh, were you her bad date?” She frowned.
Harry was still looking at his phone, checking his schedules, and making sure he didn’t miss anything in his email or messages from his mum or sister. But the moment the girl behind the counter spoke, his head snapped up to meet her gaze.
“What bad date?” He asked, his voice low, menacing.
The girl behind the counter blanched. Feeling bad she revealed something she obviously wasn’t supposed to and quite honestly, if he was her bad date, that was a horrible thing to announce. It was a reflex. “I don’t know, actually,” she tried to backtrack. “I don’t know why I said that out loud.”
“We won’t tell, darling,” Niall assured her. “Do you know when Miss Cupcake works, it would save Harry—and you—a lot of trouble.”
“OH!” She shook her head and went around to the front of the counter. Her eyes widened. “You’re Harry. Context clues, I didn’t recognize you without gloves,” she smiled excitedly. “Thank goodness, I almost closed this place down.”
Harry turned to the girl again feeling a warmth pass over him at the idea that she talked about him to her friend. “Oh brother, so she does like Harry?” Niall grumbled.
“I’m Maeve,” she announced.
“Maeve,” Harry stood up and held his hand out to her. “Nice to meet you.”
“You have a very cute niece.”
Now Harry really couldn’t help but smile because that little girl was practically his own pride and joy. And she was very cute. Plus, it meant she really was talking about Harry to her friend and that had to mean something. “Thank you, she’s perfect,” he agreed. But then he refocused on why he was haunting the bakery. “Does she not work during the day?”
“She pops in,” Maeve shrugged and fiddled with the cupcake display. He noted there was a raspberry filled one on the top tier. He recognized that cake and frosting pair anywhere. “But she’s been mostly coming in after close,” she admitted. “She’s been a little...stingy with details about everything. She gets like this sometimes. Compartmentalizes things so she can deal with it when she needs to,” Maeve bit her lip. “She’s visiting her dad right now.”
Harry realized there was very little he really knew about her. Most of their chatting had surrounded the bakery, boxing, and Harry’s niece. There was a little bit of information about their education and some books and hobbies they liked. But there wasn’t a huge depth of knowledge of her family.
“Oh,” Harry felt defeated again. “Uh... I guess we’ll go then,” he mumbled. “Try later.”
Maeve sighed. “She really likes you, Harry. Really,” she promised with a sad smile. “She’s just...a little stubborn and careful with her heart.”
Harry nodded. “Got it,” he could handle that.
*
She parked as close as she could to the bakery in the parking lot. Thinking about all the steps and stances that Louis and Harry had told her during her class. She took a deep breath and opened her car door. As she went to the back of her car to grab supplies from her trunk, she noticed a plethora of other cars parked in the lot—most people were probably at the restaurant near the waterfront. But there was no way she could miss the car she had accidentally dinged with her door just a few spaces down and across the row from her.
Once more, her gaze met the intense green gaze in the driver’s seat. She sighed knowing there was no escaping this talk anymore. Harry put a bookmark in the novel he was reading while waiting and set it on the passenger seat beside him. He locked his car and hurried to her side, taking the heavy bags of flour and sugar she bought to tide her over until the delivery came to the bakery in the morning. He didn’t speak to her as they walked to the storefront. She was overwhelmingly aware, once more, how safe she felt with Harry beside her in the nearly deserted parking lot. She unlocked the front and held the door open for Harry to enter. “Were you waiting long?” She asked.
He shrugged, putting the supplies on his now regular table while she fiddled with the display case and cupcake display once more. The raspberry one was missing from the top and she went behind the counter to get another. Harry closed the door and locked it, so she was safe inside. It was dark, the only light was a low soft glow coming from the case of treats. It had the glow of a candle, and he wondered if there was a way to keep it that way during the day because it was so warm it made him want one of everything that was in the display. “Yes,” he nodded. “S’okay.”
That felt worse. If he was willing to admit it, it meant he was there a while.
“I’m sorry,” her cheeks felt warm. “I should have just told you when I was working,” she was willing to admit when she was wrong. Harry watched in fascination as she placed the raspberry filled cupcake on top. He wondered if it had always been the one she put on top. He would have imagined the chocolate ganache one was a fan favorite, or the vanilla sprinkles one with the little toothpick and label of A Pinch of Sprinkles on it.
He shrugged again, nearly indifferent. “S’okay,” he repeated. “Read most of my book.”
“Is it a good read?” She asked and grabbed the bag of flour Harry had settled on the table and started for the back. He grabbed the bag of sugar and followed behind her.
He nodded. “Yeah...it’s,” he sighed. “S’a little darker than I expected,” he shrugged. “Was hoping for something lighter.”
“I only read rom-coms in book form,” she smiled. “It’s very light reading, but probably not what you want.”
“Rom-coms?” He repeated. She nodded. “Y’don’t strike me as a rom-com kind of girl.”
“No?”
“Y’seem more like a film noir or suspense.”
“I’ve had enough suspense for a while,” she muttered and turned to her ovens to preheat. Harry placed the sugar beside the flour bag and sat in the same chair he sat in when he fell asleep a couple months prior. He watched her in the same way he had before as she flittered around the kitchen, humming to herself as she worked. “How’s the baby?” She asked.
They were ignoring the elephant in the room, it seemed. But it was the first time he’d seen her since the self-defense lesson. In between his visits to the bakery (his stalking grounds, as Niall was calling it) he had been splitting his time between training, teaching, and ensuring Driven, his gym, was working as expected. He had to call an electrician because the lights in the men’s bathroom kept going out despite the fact, he had already replaced the circuit and lightbulbs a handful of times. But he had gone to see Gemma and his niece two days prior to get his fix of the sweet little girl who made him feel so much better about all the frustration he felt about his favorite Cupcake.
He couldn’t help but smile. “Perfect.”
She grinned back and nodded. “Good, and your sister?”
“Good, thanks for asking,” he thought that was polite of her—he always noticed when people asked about his sister. It wasn’t often. Once the baby was there, it was like they forgot about the mum.
“Does your mom live nearby?” She asked.
“Yeah, especially with the baby. Mum sold her house the moment she found out Gem was pregnant.”
She laughed. “That’s sweet. You’re all close?”
“Yes,” he nodded. “Mum’s m’hero,” his voice was filled with admiration so thick it made her feel wobbly on her feet. She wished she had that kind of admiration for her mother. “How ‘bout you? Maeve said y’were visiting your dad? He lives nearby?”
She nodded, guarded. “I feel the way about my dad, the way you feel about your mom,” she explained. There was a pause in conversation that seemed to stretch farther than it needed to. Maybe he was trying to get her to break first. Perhaps she did. “You talked to Maeve?”
He looked at her, tapping his fingers lightly on the table. “Didn’t leave me many options, Cupcake,” he reminded her.
She swallowed thickly, nodded. “That’s fair,” she whispered. “I’m sorry.”
“Can you please tell me?”
She shook her head. Harry felt so agitated, so defeated. “Not yet,” the bit of hope creeped back in. “I don’t want to talk about it,” she admitted, her voice cracking slightly. She swallowed the lump of emotion in her throat and turned away from him. “Sorry,” she sniffled. His heart broke. Quickly, he realized it wasn’t her wanting to hide it from him. It was painful to watch that frustration fall on her face.
“Oh, kitten,” he frowned. He stood quickly and made it to her side. He put a hand on her shoulder comfortingly not wanting to touch more than she wanted or needed in that moment. His imagination could only guess what went wrong on her date and it was painful to think about for him. He wanted to comfort her, but it had to be at her pace.
At once she melted into his touch. She turned quickly, almost reflexively into his embrace. Her face pressed against his shoulder, her arms wrapped up around his back, and she inhaled shakily. It felt awful to see her sad, feel the anxiety coming off her in waves. But Harry was grateful to hold her so close to him. “M’here, Cupcake,” he promised. She squeezed her eyes shut tighter, nodded against him.
Harry could live with ‘not yet.’ For now.
*
Over the next week, they went back to texting throughout the day and chatting well beyond bedtime on the nights she wasn’t at the bakery. Additionally, Harry walked beside her from her car to the bakery when she arrived and back through the dark parking lot. Not once did he ask her what went wrong with her date even though it was killing him. She wasn’t budging. She knew Harry was waiting for more details, but she couldn’t. It hurt and she didn’t want to think about it—even if she actually did want to tell him. It was overwhelmingly kind that Harry appeared beside her car—especially at night.
“I’m still really sorry about Clay,” she frowned. Harry didn’t park far away from her like he did the other night. But she was very mindful of her opening the door and not bumping into his car.
“S’okay,” he smiled and rubbed his fingers on the little indent. “Reminds me of you,” he winked at her.
Her heart fluttered and she looked away briefly before smiling back at him. “Like you need more reminders of me,” she murmured.
“Can never have enough, Cupcake,” he assured her. “Can I kiss y’goodnight?” He asked on the third night he walked her though the dark parking lot. Her heart literally skipped a beat. Speechless. He tapped his cheek. “Jus’ the cheek, kitten. Need a proper date before I really kiss you,” he acknowledged and smiled shyly at her. That boyish grin that made her weak in the knees. Breathlessly she nodded. His lips swept across her cheek. It was brief and soft. Like a piece of her hair had brushed over her face and tickled her skin. “Thank you,” he grinned. “Been dying t’do that,” he admitted and once more tucked her safely in her car.
Harry mentioned it only twice more. He never pressed or demanded she reveal the facts of her bad date. It was more of—what he hoped was—a gentle reminder. He was waiting for more information. All he wanted was to assuage her worries and fears. She attended the second class for her self-defense lessons (dropping off a box of blueberry scones at the front desk had everyone in the class asking if they could go after the lesson to pick out their own sweet treats). Harry continued to boil with anger just thinking about her using the moves he and Louis taught her. But it was obvious he was much less angry than the previous week. More so, his anger didn’t extend to her. He was mad, but he understood her choice to keep it to herself.
Louis was going over demonstrations using Harry as the attacker. Everyone watched with rapt attention. “Your goal is to get away,” it was repeated about a hundred times and Harry had the hardest time watching her every time it was repeated. Each time it was said, she flinched. He wasn’t sure she knew it or not—it was a reflex. But she did get away. It terrified her still.
Harry couldn’t help but notice she wasn’t pushing him away. Every night, she thanked him profusely for coming to the bakery and walking her to and from the car. She could see his anger growing beneath the surface. He wanted to know. She was trying so hard to brush it off. It wasn’t a big deal. Now she had two classes under her belt, and she promised herself she would never be in such a vulnerable position again.
“Can I watch you at work?” She asked randomly. It was a morning shift this time. She was covered in flour, and she had frosting streaked in her hair leftover from when she put it up after icing four dozen cupcakes. Harry didn’t think she could look cuter if she tried.
“Watch me?” He repeated.
“Not this again,” she smirked.
He chuckled. “Y’want to watch me train?” He repeated anyway.
She shrugged. “You always watch me bake and stuff.”
“You’ve attended the class, Cupcake. S’pretty much the same thing,” he reminded her.
He noted her cheeks turned pink. “Um...if you don’t want me to hang around then—”
Harry nearly gasped. “Oh, no. No way, kitten. I want y’around. I promise,” he assured her. “Jus’ don’t want you t’be bored.”
“I won’t be,” she shook her head.
That was how she ended up sitting beside the ring, Louis padded and guarded while Harry punched and punched and punched for over an hour. His breath was heaving, and his body was slick with sweat. She watched intently examining his form and his moves like she would one day repeat them.
When he came for water at the end of his training session, he was heavy breathing and smiling at her. He struggled to get the towel he had from his bag beside her with his gloves on. “Bored?” He asked.
“Not even a little,” she assured him, grabbing the little towel and swiping it across his forehead. It felt intimate and made Harry feel warm all throughout his body. “Can I try?” She asked with an impish smile.
He chuckled and nodded. “Come on,” he held the ropes open for her to enter the ring. She wasn’t wearing the right shoes or equipment. Louis rolled his eyes discreetly at Harry and held the pads out for her to hit. “Make the fist I showed you,” she did for both hands. “S’all the balance in your legs,” he promised. “No balance, no punch, no follow-through. Punch through the pad,” he explained and guided her hand to the pad slowly so she could see how it would look and feel to go through it.
“Pretend it’s Harry,” Louis suggested. “That’s what I do.”
She giggled. “I don’t think I could throw a punch if I thought it was Harry,” she admitted and gave her best attempt. It was honestly exhausting. She only threw a dozen or so punches and was breathless as she answered Louis.
“You’ll get there,” he assured her.
Harry scowled at him. “Take the pads off.”
“No, you lunatic.”
“Coward.”
She giggled, thanked Louis, and twisted herself out of the ring again. “That was fun,” she told him. “I can see why you like it. Plus, you’re really good at it.”
Harry was staring at her, the way that sent all the butterflies in the world directly to her stomach and began to flutter as if they were trying to escape. His gaze was firm but gentle, his eyes almost glowing somehow as he looked her over. “Please tell me, Cupcake. I want t’help,” his voice was quiet, begging ever so gently.
She looked at the floor, their shoes were nearly toe-to-toe. “I can’t,” she whispered back.
He nodded, defeat did not come easy to him, and she knew that. “I have t’shower, do some office stuff. Get ready for some lessons and classes,” he told her, his voice the slightest bit disappointed.
“Want me to watch you in the shower too?” She asked hoping to alleviate the mood. It worked, his smile returned to his pretty lips, and he chuckled.
“Hell yes, Cupcake,” he shook his head at her cuteness. “Maybe next time. Not here,” he winked.
Even though it was her that was forward it still made her blush. Plus, joke or not, she agreed here was not a good idea. “I have to do some errands anyway,” she admitted.
“I’ll walk you t’your car,” but she knew he would. It was like a safety blanket being wrapped around her.
She really liked it.
*
After her third self-defense lesson she was feeling more confident. She even showed Maeve some of her moves in the back kitchen. Shadowboxing the same way that she saw Harry do to Louis the night she met him. “I don’t know who thought it was a good idea to give the Queen of Sugar boxing lessons,” Maeve rolled her eyes.
Honestly, she was feeling better. More confident. Plus, she was enjoying her not-so-date-dates with Harry. There was one night when Harry wasn’t around, and she realized she missed him so much. Not only because the dark parking lot seemed more foreboding but because his presence made her happy. Happier than she had been in a really long time. It felt undeserving to be so happy but it wasn’t something she thought about when he was actually there. I missed you.
Oh? 😍
Sorry, I know that’s...
A lot...
I miss you all the time, Cupcake. Think about you all day.
The message made her warm and she wished she could explain how simple it seemed to just have Harry fit in her life. They were busy people, but he always managed to come by and see her. She enjoyed watching him train or sitting with Sarah at the front desk and chatting while he taught classes and lessons. Maeve teased her every time he arrived and she wasn’t there. Can’t you just give him your schedule? The poor guy is going to have to train twice as hard to get rid of the extra cupcake weight.
I like to keep him guessing a little 😉
Today, she was up front on her own—one of her employees called out sick and she didn’t mind in the slightest. Working up front was one of her favorite tasks. Interacting with customers and sharing her gift was something she enjoyed thoroughly. Her other coworker was out back, working on inventory and prepping the bagels for her monthly bagel sale.
Ding.
The bell attached to the front door signaled whenever customers arrived or departed. It was a busy morning. So busy that it took her a minute to realize Harry was sitting with Niall at one of the tables. Niall gave her a wave as she finally got caught in his gaze. She waved back, smiling brightly and paused the customers that were at the counter while she ran to the back and then to the table as quickly as she could. She pecked Harry on the cheek without thinking and deposited a raspberry filled cupcake and a personal sized loaf of Irish soda bread.
Harry felt as gooey as the filling on the inside of his cupcake. Her soft little kiss made him crazier for her. Watching her made him happy. Being around her made him happy. Happier than the little kid that was bullied could have dreamed.
Niall was making noises that would have embarrassed the porn industry while eating his bread. Harry snorted at him, tried to steal a piece, only for Niall to slap his hand away. “Eat your cupcake,” he nearly snarled.
“She could make more, m’sure.”
Niall shook his head stuffing his face of the treat made specially for him.
Harry liked watching her. He wondered if it was the same way she felt when she watched him. People obviously fell in love with her the moment they spoke to her. Unironically, she was so sweet. Of course she was. It was like she was a sprinkles-fairy. This ethereal being that passed out sweet treats to everyone.
Ding.
With her back turned to get another bag, she didn’t notice the influx of new customers. When she turned back, her heart leapt to her throat. She was lucky she didn’t drop the dozen cookies she was packaging.
“Shit,” she whispered mostly to herself. He hadn’t seen her yet. Fortunately, it was crowded enough to hide behind her wall of customers. All the progress she had made, the classes thus far, all seemed for naught at that moment. Her gaze darted to Harry and Niall. They were unaware of the turmoil she was facing while she packaged treats for the next customer. Her stomach churned uneasily.
If Harry just looked at her, she knew he would know. “Hey Lexi!” She called toward the back room. But Harry was chatting with Niall. Niall was focused on his soda bread. Neither of them noticed the anxiety that swept over her. Lexi doesn’t answer at first. Making her more anxious and scared. It shouldn’t be that way. He shouldn’t ruin the one place she loved most.
Niall now had crumbs on his cheeks, but his head tilted curiously in the direction of her main display. “Harry, something’s wrong,” Niall’s voice was quiet.
Harry’s gaze snapped up defensively. Sure enough, her whole demeanor had changed. Harry could see it. Her smile was tight, and her eyes darted toward the door and the customer in front of her more times in ten seconds than Harry could ever begin to count. Harry wanted to kick himself. How long had she looked like that?
After an eternity, Lexi finally appeared. She mumbled something to her employee and headed to the back kitchen. Not even a glance in Harry’s direction. Without fanfare, without permission, Harry marched his way into the back almost as soon as she left his view.
“Excuse me,” Lexi said. “Hey, that’s employee—”
“He’s fine, Lexi,” she answered quietly.
Harry found her in the kitchen, hand clutching the front collar of her shirt, her eyes lit with anxiety while she paced back and forth. “Is he here?” He asked lowly, while she moved quickly across the kitchen.
She tried to remember the last time she felt safe. It was her dad, right? Her dad before...before everything. Before she moved her shop here. Before she uprooted her life.
But there were those brief moments where she was overcome with how safe she felt in Harry’s presence. Walking to his fight for the first time. Each time he walked her to her car. How his hand felt when he pressed her fingers into a fist.
She nodded, her eyes watering.
He spun almost immediately to do who knows what. He didn’t know and she certainly didn’t know.
“No, don’t leave me!” She practically shouted before he could hardly take a step further. She started to follow him but he stopped at the sound of despair in her voice.
Harry groaned lowly; it came out nearly as a growl. He turned back to her immediately as if it pained him. “M’never leaving you,” his eyes were so dark and desperate—her whole body felt heavy at the seriousness of his words. Breathless again. “Please don’t ask me that,” his eyes darted back toward the front of the bakery.
“Harry, please,” she whispered.
His hands were already balled into fists. He shook his head. “Cupcake,” he grumbled. It was such an oxymoron in itself. Harry was calling her one of the sweetest things in the world and it sounded downright terrifying.
“Please, Harry,” she begged, grabbing one of his closed fists. “I need you,” she whispered.
Groaning again, he rubbed a hand over his face and sighed. “Fine,” he snapped.
She felt bad making him stay. She knew she was forcing his hand, but she was scared. To soften the blow, she threw herself at him. Arms around his neck, face buried in his shirt. She sighed with relief with the feel of him: solid, warm, protective against her body. Harry was safe. He proved that already and she still hardly knew him. It wasn’t hard. It shouldn’t have been hard for her date to make her feel safe.
Harry was momentarily shocked before he returned the hug, one arm looped around her back, the other cupping the back of her head. It was like the antidote to an disease she didn’t know she had. Another loud sigh escaped her. Like the feeling of Harry was cause for another wave of relief.
“What did he do?” He mumbled into her hair. She ignored him and scrunched her eyes shut. “Please, Cupcake,” he begged. She realized she wanted to tell Harry.
“I’m so embarrassed,” she whispered. “I don’t even know why I went out with him...I had met you and—”
“Doesn’t matter, kitten,” he shook his head. “He doesn’t get t’make y’feel unsafe,” he reminded her.
“It was such bad judgment.”
He shook his head again. “No, Cupcake. He doesn’t get t’make y’feel that way. S’not you. S’not asking a lot t’feel safe on a date. S’not even the bare minimum. Y’don’t have poor judgment. Your judgment got y’out of there that night. S’why y’signed up for classes and—”
It poured out of her at that moment. She told him everything. In the middle of the story, she tried to downplay it sensing the way his body tightened around her with every word. Explained why she signed up for the self-defense class. Every detail and emotion she felt for the last few weeks. How scared she was that very night. Why she requested Harry and chatted with him until three in the morning. How he made her feel better when she didn’t think she could. How safe she felt around him in general.
At the end, Harry pulled away from her.
Her heart felt heavy. Now he wouldn’t like her. She was broken and hurt. Harry didn’t want to be a bodyguard, nor should he have to be. “I need t’go to the gym,” he started toward the front, and she thought that was it. It was the last she would see of him. He was too overwhelmed with how stupid she was. This wasn’t what he wanted. Someone who couldn’t defend herself or be smart enough to see the signs earlier.
“Harry, I’m sorry—” She managed to croak with tears thick in her voice and vision. Right as he reached the threshold back to the front of the bakery. He was shaking. Every inch of him. She wondered how he wasn’t a blur from how much he shook. In the moment it took for the apology to form in her mouth, he was back in front of her.
He grabbed her firmly but still softly by the chin, held her sweet face between his palms. Gazed into her eyes and shook his head slowly. His eye contact was overwhelming but still felt so good. “You are to never. Ever. Apologize.” Her eyes welled with more tears. She couldn’t do anything but nod at him. Her heart felt so heavy and broken. But Harry was looking at her. Taking in every inch of her face and he sighed. “M’sorry, Cupcake; m'angry. But s'not something you need t'apologize for. Y'didn't do anything wrong. M'jus' mad I wasn't there for you,” he whispered and brought her back in to hold her against him once more. Her body felt relieved it was ridiculous for him to feel bad--he didn't even know she was going on a date. She didn't want him to feel bad.
"It's not your fault either," she whispered. Harry sighed with relief and he kissed the top of her hair.
She lost track of how long they stood there. It could have been two minutes or two hours. All she felt was Harry’s warm body against hers and reveled in how good it felt. “Call me a half hour before you’re ready to leave here. I’ll come walk you t’your car.”
She smiled softly, hoping to alleviate the tension now that a significant portion of time had passed. “Even if it’s in the middle of the night and—”
He didn’t think her joke was funny at all. “If y’call,” he repeated, interrupting her, his eyes were hard and serious. No room for joking at all. “I’ll be here.”
He was rapidly making her fall in love with him.
*
“Hey Dad,” she smiled softly sitting across from him at the dinner table. He grinned at her.
“Hey sweetie. How was your day?”
“Good! Did you see the game?” She asked. He nodded.
“Your guy did well, don’t you think?”
She laughed, shaking her head and blushed a bit. “Max Kepler is not my guy, Dad.”
“I didn’t say his name, honey,” he reminded her with a chuckle.
She rolled her eyes and bit the inside of her cheek. “I think I met a guy, actually,” she rushed out quickly.
“Oh?” He looked at her curiously, tilted his head ever so slightly and smiled. “That’s nice, sweetie. You haven’t had a boyfriend in a while. You need someone to...chat with, depend on,” he said knowingly. “I want to know you’re taken care of.”
“Dad, that is so 1950s of you. I don’t need a guy to take care of me.”
“Oh honey, I know you don’t. But I want you to have someone,” his voice was gentle.
For a moment she just looked at him. Thought long about all the things that had happened since she met Harry almost three months prior. It was a big deal to tell her dad about Harry. She wanted to make sure it was the right move especially after she was feeling poorly about her gut feeling. But she thought of Harry, the reassurance he gave her that it wasn’t her poor judgment that caused her bad date.
“His name is Harry. He’s a boxer,” she shrugged. “The raspberry filled cupcakes are his favorite.”
“Well, then he’s perfect. Right?”
She laughed, nodded, then bit her lip. “I mean...he’s...” she sighed forgoing all the details about how she was insane to let him steer her to his boxing match. How he helped her with self-defense classes. And why she was taking self-defense classes. No. She would tell him how they met another day. When Harry and she defined more of what their relationship was... if there was a relationship to be had. “I like him,” she admitted. “Then that’s all that really matters, honey,” he assured her. It felt like a blessing.
She couldn't wait to see Harry.
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weebsinstash · 2 days
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I want yandere Alastor being the biggest fucking hypocrite on the block and getting painfully humbled by reality so fucking bad you don't understand
I want a story where you stumble into becoming his friend with benefits, become the person who gets him interested in sex as a physical activity, and then one day you ask him "hey, what are we?" And his response being ABSOLUTELY RUDE AS HELL, albeit unintentionally, and you immediately cut him off from sex because his reply was basically the equivalent of "you're fun to sleep with, but the rest of you? No :)" (and also maybe he didn't even fully mean it, maybe he only partially meant it but he can tell he's forming some kind of new emotion for you and he doesn't want that to become a point of weakness for him so he's pushing you away but once you're actually gone he wants you back more than ANYTHING--)
I want yandere Alastor who laughs in your face if you nervously ask him if you're his girlfriend or something but then when you show up around town with another man less than a week later and he sees how easily you REPLACED HIM, he's just absolutely losing his mind. What do you MEAN you were still sleeping with other men this whole time?!?! The Radio Demon was getting SLOPPY SECONDS??? WHY would you let these-these disgusting bastards DEGRADE YOU-- meanwhile you and him could've been having like hardcore bdsm sex with actual degradation or some semi respectful form of it and he's STILL over here "B B BUT THESE MEN PROBABLY DONT EVEN RESPECT YOU--" and neither did you, you laughed in my fucking face you bitch!!!
yandere Alastor just having to sit and have a fulllll glass of whiskey and ruminate on his thoughts as he tries to come to terms with these sudden EXTREMELY POSSESSIVE feelings and urges he has. What do you MEAN he wasn't providing anything for you that you couldn't get somewhere else AND BETTER AND ALREADY HAVE BEEN? what do you MEAN you're making gifts for and going out and having actual fun dates with some of these men? What do you fucking MEAN YOU'RE 'ROMANTICALLY INVOLVED WITH SOMEONE ELSE NOW' AND WOULDN'T SLEEP WITH ALASTOR EVEN IF HE APOLOGIZED BECAUSE YOU REALLY LIKE THIS GUY--
Alastor hardcore coping, trying not to think about you at all, telling himself he just needs time and this'll all blow over and he wont even think about you anymore, and eventually finds his feet carrying him to your favorite jazz club that he would take you to, AND YOU'RE ALREADY THERE WITH ANOTHER MAN. Now THIS is what causes Alastor to finally have a public episode. No, some RANDO can't come with you HERE, this is YOUR place, OUR place, it's special, it's for Alastor and you ONLY!! basically turns him into a little kid stomping his foot going no no no that's MINE!!!
This narcissistic ass man really ain't shit, over here responding to your actually extremely valid question of "what are we?" because you were actually trying to respectfully ask him if there were any certain boundaries or if you were now exclusive, and he hits you with some deflective dehumanizing diversion like "what makes you think I would have THOSE kinds of feelings about YOU?" until he's painfully aware you're sleeping with another man, kissing another man, making hot meals for another man, holding his hand tenderly as you take a leisurely stroll, GOD FORBID HE CATCHES WIND OF ANY MARRIAGE TALK, HE WILL FUCKING L O S E IT
Juat the idea of him being so close to having what he wants - your body, heart, AND mind- and he fucks it up big time and ruins your relationship and self esteem so badly. He tries to pretend that he doesn't need your attention and/or affection but the second he doesn't have EITHER, he's a jealous mess trying to literally one-up whomever you're with, show off, impress you, usually digging his hole even deeper. Alastor becoming more unpredictable over time, literally losing sleep over you, absolutely CONVINCED 500% that all of these, shall we say, "more modern men" that you're choosing are not even worth the dirt in the treads of your shoes.
Just twirling my hair kicking my feet thinking bout yandere Alastor, becoming dead-set on genuinely and fully believing he has to save you not just from these men, but also yourself. Oh honey, he's so sorry, CLEARLY this is his fault for not watching over you better. He already knew you were... delicate and naive, but here you are, running around letting these men treat you like some kind of object just because you need what you perceive as acceptance and validation. It almost breaks his heart, truly, but don't worry darlin'! He's a southern gentleman and, SURELY he can turn up the charm and make it clear to you that you MISUNDERSTOOD HIM, right? :) You're going to GIVE HIM ANOTHER CHANCE, right? :)
genuinely, i feel like this man is more likely to try and gaslight you into believing you completely misinterpreted what he said instead of just apologizing let alone ADMITTING that he himself didn't communicate jack shit about shit, wasn't honest or up front about his feelings, and may have even be intentionally cruel to you in a moment of weakness to try and keep his own insecurities at bay, but then is fully capable of convincing, some may even say BRAINWASHING you into believing, oh sweetie, if these DEGENERATE DELIQUENTS somehow convinced you that your best friend and future husband is somehow your enemy, then, CLEARLY he hasn't been keeping you close enough to properly care for you and help you keep a clear head, has he? guess it's a good thing both of you are Sinners and he has NOTHING but time to show you EXACTLY what his intentions are. So, dear doe, which do you like the sound of more: a spring wedding, or a summer wedding, or maaaaaybe you two could even get hitched during some lovely acid rain so your new spouse can demonically laugh at all your screaming "gentleman callers" captive in the wedding audience who "accidentally" weren't put under any gazebos or any sort of protection while being forced to watch Alastor take you away--
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okay okay so like kinda dumb(its really fucking dumb)idea but you know how Inks eyes change everytime he blinks right? so usually his eyes are one of the main things that give him away based on how he's feeling however what if he was having a particularly bad day so he takes some yellow paint(for the tiny boost of happiness) and then just never blinks. The whole day. Like just staring into your soul, no blinking, the fakest smile ever plastered on his face to the point where it becomes uncanny because the others are used to his eyes changing but he wont let himself blink cause once he does and the others start asking questions as to what's wrong he will literally explode(not actually but the mental equivalent)
and the only reason why i think he could do this is cause he isn't mortal, kinda in the same way a god doesn't need to sleep and eat like yea its uncomfty if you don't but its not like you'll die(and to be fair they are skeletons but shhhhh, im indulging myself)
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foreingersgod · 3 days
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could you do paige w a black gf hcs??
A/N: i wanted to say real quick that i am white and have also not been in a relationship with a black woman before! so please feel free to give me feedback or let me know if i wrote something that was inappropriate! the last thing i want is to make anyone uncomfortable <3
Paige Bueckers x BlackGf!Reader Headcannons
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quite literally obsessed with you
will not let you go out alone, always wants to be with you
like i mean everywhere, whether it’s to go your hair done or to go grocery shopping, she’s always asking to go with you
hell, even if you just want to shower, she’s asking to join you
always sends you things that remind her of you
“saw this makeup look on instagram and i think you should try it”
you literally can’t buy anything because she’s always paying for you
“put your card away, that’s my job”
matches your attitude 100%, she’s so sassy with you
“fine, i can pout too, you know”
loves little touches of affection, she loves when you hug her from behind or hold her hand under the table
worships the ground you walk on, everything about you drives her crazy
you’d buy her a promise ring or matching necklaces or something like that and she’d never take it off
she’s a sucker for when you wear her jersey
loves kissing you: lips, cheeks, forehead, thighs, literally every inch of you
always finds you after her games
“can we just go home? i really need you right now”
the most jealous person you’ve ever met, always sneaking kisses and dangerous touches just so that people know who you belong to
she’s also such a good listener
if you’re having a bad day or get in an argument with someone, she’s always there to let you rant
she makes sure you always feel comfortable talking to her about everything
if you ever ask for her to teach you how to play basketball or for her to really talk about anything she likes in general, she goes all out and gets so excited to share it with you
she’s tough on the outside, but with you? she’s the softest, cheesiest person you’ve ever met
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jerreeeeeee · 1 day
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i don't think taako's voice is really all that high most of the time. it's higher than justin's normal voice a little, but idk, the defining quality of it isn't its pitch to me, there's something else that i don't really have the words for. but anyway i do notice that his voice gets lower and less exaggerated when he's being serious. which is interesting bc it sort of implies that the usual "taako voice" is something he puts on.
i don't really think of taako as a habitual performer. his charisma modifier is a -1, he's not this ultra smooth charming actor, and although he does tend to hide behind humor and is slow to build connections, he's also very frank with what he's about and what he wants. he goes on an entire tirade about wanting to talk about his feelings (he's multidimensional!), he never acts embarrassed or hesitant about big moments of vulnerability and caring for others (arms outstretched, "i'm not going fucking anywhere," admitting a deep fear to kravitz on their first date, spilling his tragic backstory to angus, not to mention several serious moments with lup) (and not all of these can be chalked up to "forgotten connections," either. he does have a foundation of growth with magnus and merle, even forgotten, and his conversations with lup are of course all with memories intact, but he does not have that with kravitz and angus). he's just slow to reveal all of his hidden depths, because of (understandable) trust issues. but all in all he's not nearly as closed off as i think fandom tends to portray him (which is not to say he's open, either), nor is he someone who wears a lot of masks and obscures himself. i don't think he hides his "true self."
sizzle it up was successful because of his intelligence, not his charisma. he's a natural teacher who's knowledgeable and passionate, and that was what made the show great, not his personality or performance (though i don't think those were bad. just not the primary appeal of the show. the only fan we see is ren, and she loved sizzle it up because it inspired her and taught her to cook, not because she thought taako was awesome or whatever). bc that's the thing, he's not a performer, but he is extremely adaptable. so when he's set up with a stagecoach and a show lined up, sure, he'll have a TV persona, he'll learn to be charming, he'll learn to be showy, when he's on stage. when he gets famous, he learns to like being famous, but i don't think it was really a dream of his before then. or at least not in the way people think of it. i don't think he ever wanted to be a celebrity as much as a celebrity chef or celebrity wizard. he doesn't care if people think he's pretty. he doesn't want people to adore him (before the voidfish, anyway. afterwards is a different story. there's a void where love used to be that he's desperate to fill, and adoration almost feels like it works). really what he wants is for people to appreciate his skill and intelligence and depth (and he's also very afraid of actually displaying those things. he's multidimensional).
but most of the time, when he's not literally performing for an audience, i just don't think he's putting on a show, desperate for people to like him and think he's charming. he'll do what he needs to do, say what he needs to say, be who he needs to be in any given circumstance, with strangers and antagonists, but he also drops the act when it's not necessary. or at least his performance is subtler. he performs stupidity, he performs nonchalance, he makes efforts to be funny (because he is always funny, but that's something you have to work for and always be thinking about, even when the humor is dry), he carefully does just enough to be useful, but not enough to raise expectations. he's very aware of how other people view him, but he's also perfectly okay with people thinking negatively about him—as long as they're the negative traits he wants people to see. but, he only does all those things in the beginning of the show; after a little while with magnus and merle, after a little while with the bob, he drops the act. so i guess that's the difference to me. he's adaptable out of necessity, it doesn't bleed into his entire life. i don't even really think i'd qualify it as a performance. it's more of an invisibility. he's not performing charisma to get people to like him, he's trying to lay low. but then when he actually wants people to like him, he's himself, fairly unapologetically. with the people who matter, lup, magnus and merle, kravitz, the other bob members, the other ipre crew, he's pretty comfortable with himself.
one last interesting point is that while he doesn’t seem to hesitate when it comes to actions, he does shy away from verbal displays of affection, trust, vulnerability. and the best two scenes to show that play out almost exactly the same: lup’s best day ever dinner, and dropping his disguise self with kravitz. in each, taako does something meaningful for both npcs, who then verbalize their affection for him, which taako immediately deflects with a joke.
taako drops his disguise spell for kravitz, totally honest with him, (although… i don’t tend to think the beauty sacrifice was as meaningful to taako as fandom tends to portray, i think most of his vanity is an exaggeration he intentionally cultivates, but still, it’s a vulnerable moment, he clearly cares what kravitz thinks), and kravitz tells him he loves him. to which taako replies with a joke. he does not return the words.
taako doesn’t hesitate to construct the best day ever for lup, never even questions why she’d ask. he puts it all together, cooks for her, shows her he knows her, he loves her—and then when she bears her heart to him, tells him he is her heart, all he says is, “i know,” and pulls out a bottle of vodka. of course lup knows he loves her, the whole day was an elaborate demonstration of it, but he doesn’t say anything. to be fair, it’s not exactly a typical interaction between them, taako is textually scared shitless, lup did just tell him she’s going to turn herself into an undead abomination, so he’s not exactly at his best here. but anyway.
i don’t really have anything to add to this observation, it’s just very consistent and interesting to me. taako is fairly comfortable with grand gestures, but sidesteps around words. which ties in perfectly with his identity as a chef, to me. cooking is an action, work, intention, cooking for people is an act of love, an act of connection, an act of caring, and taako’s character doesn’t fit the bill for that—except, he kinda really does.
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pinkpeony1 · 22 hours
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not done talking about the watcher thing because so many people vilified them for making a bad business decision (which it was) and then proceeded to name solutions that would literally be worse.
“just move out of la” moving 25ish people is expensive and it is completely unreasonable to ask your employees to do that when some have families that would have to move, not to mention the cost of moving all their equipment would make their financial situation worse in the short-term and possibly put them under.
“lay off people” i get saying that they expanded too fast, they did. but laying off hardworking people in a recession would be worse than what they actually did. sure they should’ve/could’ve halted expansion but saying people should be fired is crazy.
“cut down on production costs and focus on what works” they explicitly said that don’t want to do that. they want creative control over their work so they can make the art they want.
everyone pointing out their revenue streams seems to forget the expenses of a business. the 100k from their patreon monthly is not going to the pockets of shane ryan and steven. it’s going to the employees, rent, health insurance, taxes. 100k is 4k for each employee per month. it’s not as if they’re making millions.
watcher made a dumb decision and people are acting like they murdered people. we’ve seen less backlash from literal predators.
the people saying “they only apologized because people were mad/hurt.” like…yeah. obviously. if everyone was ok with the decision they wouldn’t have needed to apologize!! that’s the point!! why are people mad at them doing the smart PR move to keep their business and fan base?
last point: people saying they took too long. they took less than a single business day. sure, it would’ve been nice for them to say a statement was on the way, but do you really think that would’ve made people satisfied. i for one, would much rather they spend time working on their response than say something as soon as people got mad.
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i keep saying "one last thought" BUT I KEEP HAVING MORE and i type this one out as i am in literal tears ajshshsh.
i am not going to speak for steven bc he is a grown man with his own feelings and i have no business projecting my own feelings onto him but i will say there's something i feel asian americans are really good at doing and that's holding space for others. as a fil-am i think asian americans are so very good at stamping down our own needs and desires when it boils down to surviving, to navigating tough decisions, to making sure our loved ones can weather bad storms. i feel it's something usually so ingrained in our cultures, especially with first and second gen immigrants. and i could spend time here making the obvious connection here to steven but i won't.
what i want to do is extend my heart out to the watcher fans of color, specifically the asian friends in our community, and i want to give you back some of the space you held onto this past weekend. i know there are people out there who long ago joined this fandom for fun, then last friday, saw the fan response and was hit with this large wave of burden. because people were mad. and then people were cruel, in a way they might not even have understood. and you wanted to say something but there was nothing to say that wouldn't invite the same cruelty onto you.
out of three people behind a business decision, i saw one man receive the most hate for it. and the hate was so disproportionate, so deep and personal, that you knew the hate was coming from somewhere else that's usually unspoken. not everyone felt it, and it's not something any one person can describe to make them feel it. but maybe you felt it.
if so, i am so sorry that you had to hold that space, hold your tongue, and absorb it all. of course all folks won't feel this strongly affected but to the folks who do, to the ones who feel like this community has permanently changed for them, to the ones who are still grieving something that was never supposed to hurt them in this way—i am with you, i believe your pain, and i'm sorry that people are still trying to blame you for your own pain. i don't even know what else to say other than i love and support you. you're part of what made the original community so fun, inclusive, and welcoming. i hope you know that you're still so valued as a part of this community—maybe not the same exact one as before, but the one i want to see and create for us moving forward. some people will not hold the space for us, and to that, i say good riddance. together we can hold a kinder space large enough for us all... ❣❣
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okay apparently watcher released an apology so here's my thoughts (not asked for):
it was decent, as far as youtube apologies go. I don't understand why people are now saying that people overreacted when we probably wouldn't have gotten an apology if no one said anything? like being critical of things is okay, you know? and in this case it led to the right outcome.
I also don't think it's wrong that people started criticizing the content at watcher. especially after being told they had to pay for it, like you're gonna become more critical of things when you're being asked to pay money for it instead of it being free. and when the product is becoming more expensive to produce but it ends up being less entertaining, that is not a good thing (*cough* ghost files)
watcher 100% needs someone to budget their money, idk who is in charge of it now, but they really don't seem to be doing a good job. production is expensive, but you cannoooot be making projects as if you have a disney/warner brothers type budget when you're an indie studio. even with the streaming service money, this will still be an issue. they're trying to grow their company way too fast, and it will lead to them going under completely if they're not careful. you can't rely on the fans to bail you out when you make bad choices.
also, they need other on-screen talent. like the try guys have been struggling for awhile now, but at least they were smart enough to get people like kwesi and johnny to be new cast members. ryan and shane are 1000% burnt out, they need other talent. I remember they had a show with one of the staff members(?) but it only lasted 3 episodes and then they just stopped it. obv it didn't get as many views, but you need to build an audience and that takes more than 3 episodes to do. if they want to actually produce more content (which would help make more money and make their huge staff actually make sense) they need new people to be on screen. look at dropout/GMM/smosh. bigger casts, way more output. putting steven and andrew as hosts is actually a good choice i think, but sadly they're choosing to have them host one of the most expensive shows to produce. when you're making food content, why are you starting with the pricey international restaurants? start at del taco or something. build a bigger audience to justify the costs. look at eat the menu; the first episode was literally taco bell, and five years later, NOW they're doing fine dining. because they can put more money into it, because they KNOW it's one of their more profitable shows.
idk. acting like there still isn't problems is so strange to me. they apologized, that's a good thing, but it doesn't solve all the issues that have been brought to the forefront as a result of this whole debacle.
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Barking, Meowing, Clawing for Elriel: The Why of it All.
I saw a criticism recently that Elriel's are horny little weirdo's who are largely obsessed with the idea that Azriel is an absolute sheet freak, and for some reason, we are only able to see that being the case with Elain. And to that I would like to say: Your Honor, frankly, you are not wrong. Obviously there is *a lot* more to it than that, and the lore of their four books of sweet softness and connection and friendship that developed into absolute down bad angsty pining. But yeah, the freakiness of it all is certainly a big draw. And I don't believe that is a point I should deny or argue.
But I ask thee- what am I to do with THIS:
Emperor Sarah Julius Maas herself created this Roman Empire within me by literally going on camera in front of the whole ass internet and SWEATING just thinking about how hot and kinky Azriel is in bed. It is important to note that this question came after Stephanie (@ideallyinspiredreviews) asked whether or not Tarquin was vanilla or a freak, and Sarah had a hard time answering because she hadn't really thought about it yet. But Azriel? Yes. Immediately yes.
Then a year after after Sarah confirmed Azriel is 100% the kind of man who would choose death by kitty suffocation if it was presented to him, it dropped that ELAIN'S kitty is the one he wanted to suffocate on:
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Personally, I think it is hot as hell that Azriel only needed to put a necklace on her, or look at the present she had made for him that he keeps on his nightstand to get so horny that he can't control himself. You can judge it all you want, but Sarah MADE me this way, as the Iron Teeth Matrons made the Thirteen as they were. I cannot be held responsible!
Mother gave us homework, and all I tried to do was understand the assignment so I can ace all my tests. If you want to drag me for being a little good girl rule follower with a praise kink, then drag me to hell for it. You know what? I probably deserve it. But I am simply working with what the author gave me. If and when she presents new information, I will certainly meow for that as well. But at the moment- this is the monster that I was turned into. And I will keep *barking* until I am instructed to stop.
Thank you for your understanding and compassion.
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Am I the asshole for not noticing I hurt my friend's feelings?
I (24F) had a somewhat close friend (24F) whom I've known since highschool but only got closer to recently. I've had a friend crush on her forever and apparently she did too. We share a lot of interests and we're both neurodivergent (I'm diagnosed with adhd, and we're almost certain she has autism). We also sort of bonded over a shared trauma -- basically we got two-timed several years ago by a really abusive asshole.
Anyway something happened a couple of months ago and I feel our friendship has gone downhill since then. It was multiple occasions really: what would happen is that I would say something impulsively, and she would misinterpret it and get sensitive about it, we talk it out, I apologize, and we move on. But one time it was a bit too much that i burst into tears while texting her because I felt I really hurt her and I felt that all my friendships will go downhill because whenever I get comfortable with someone I just completely lose my filter and end up hurting them. What happened that day was that we were hanging out and a guy apparently told her something sexist but I didn't hear him. She came to me to complain and I sort of brushed it off because from the way she said it happened it just seemed he was vaguely pointing out something but I later understood that I was just wrong. Then her dress had a tiny hole which I pointed out to her in front of my boyfriend rather impulsively and she got really upset about that. Later on I was telling her about a book I'd read that had great autism representation that didn't have the character just be -- and here I did the dinosaur arms thing (no offense whatsoever to people who do that; I know full well it's a common thing, I was just saying the character had more to him than just that). The problem is that she didn't hear the part where I was talking about a book character because we were changing tables in a crowded cafe and I was just talking non-stop because that's what I do and she thought I just did the dinosaur arms out of nowhere and got offended but didn't say so except over text later and just looked unwell for the rest of the next half hour before she suddenly excused herself and left. That day she texted me about all of these things and we talked it out and I pretended that I was not literally having a meltdown all while apologizing (but not before I tried to plead my case a bit). This all happened on the same day, but before that there were other occasions too. One time she would be talking about something, then I change the subject, then she'd say I know you didn't mean to but I wanted you to give a reply to what I just said. Another time we had a particularly bad exam which I did okay on, but she was telling about how she botched it. I couldn't tell from her face how serious it was and I gave her what i thought was a sympathetic smile (which she later told me was a weird smile) because I really didn't know what to say and then turned away to look for my boyfriend to check on him as well. She told me that day that she felt that I brushed her off when she was having a difficult time and didn't console her enough.
It's just multiple things that made me feel that I need to be more on guard around her for her sake. She moved to another city recently and even before that we were texting less and less. I even asked her if she was upset about the cafe day and she said no since I apologized and we talked it out, but I could feel something in our relationship changed. It just felt like such a shame because I felt a great connection between us and I have massive difficulties when it comes to making friends. She was sort of my last friend that I felt close to aside from my boyfriend, and now I can't help thinking that the problem has always been me.
Sorry if the post was too long and sorry for the sob story lol
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missmagooglie · 2 days
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Prefacing this by saying this is not what I EXPECT to happen in 7x09 and 7x10, it's just one specific scenario that I feel particularly feral about right now... so with that said, I'm gonna throw out a dream scenario for the end of S7:
Tommy and Buck are dating and it's going well. Buck is just sort of blossoming in his new identity as a queer man. There's a self-confidence and assuredness to him that we haven't seen before
Meanwhile, Eddie has broken things off with Marisol and is quietly going through his own reevaluation of his sexuality. His awareness of his queerness happens pretty simultaneously with his realization that the way he loves Buck isn't entirely platonic, but he keeps it to himself because Buck is happy with Tommy
Episode 9 finds Eddie and Buck together off duty. Maybe they're having an argument. Maybe on the surface they're arguing about something small but somehow it feels much bigger
Mid-argument some emergency strikes. Buck and Eddie are trapped together and it's BAD. They're both in mortal peril, but it's worse for Eddie. Eddie hopes help will arrive in time to save Buck, but he's pretty sure he won't be alive to see it
(And I just want to stress - I feel like it's essential that they are off duty when this happens. They are in sync on the job, it's how they fit together outside of the job they're still figuring out)
So Eddie gets Buck's attention - because Buck hasn't given up yet. He won't. He CAN'T. He's frantically searching for solutions as Eddie repeats his name in a weakened voice, until finally he cracks and says, "Evan, please. I need you to hear this."
And in the final seconds of episode nine, Eddie Diaz looks Evan Buckley dead in the eye and tells him, "I love you"
Episode ten opens on an unrelated disaster, just to keep us gnashing our teeth a little longer
Maybe we throw some flashbacks in there for good measure
Check in on the rest of the firefam frantically trying to coordinate a rescue effort
But FINALLY they cut back to Buck and Eddie in mortal danger and replay the last few moments of episode 9. And believing these are the last words he'll ever say, Eddie tells Buck how much he loves him. He says he's sorry he realized it too late, but he could never, never regret loving him
Somehow there's a callback reference to Mitchell and Thomas, and the way Buck looked at their clasped hands as they died, and Buck realizing that dying together was never the point of their story. Living together was
And Buck is full sobbing and begging him not to give up yet because Christopher needs him and the team needs him and finally saying "and I need you, Eddie. You can't leave me. You can't-"
We get the sense that Buck is on the cusp of a love confession of his own, but before he gets the words out he's cut off by the sound of helicopter blades overhead.
Their miracle rescue arrives in time, led by none other than Buck's starting-to-be-something-serious boyfriend Tommy
After the rescue, we see Eddie in the back of the ambulance, stable and out of danger, and Buck's about to go over to him but Tommy comes running over and sweeps Buck up in his arms and kisses his temple and says, "thank god you're ok. I don't know what I'd do if I lost you"
And Buck lets himself be held, but his attention is over Tommy's shoulder looking at Eddie
Eddie, who's gonna be ok
Eddie, who loves him
Eddie, who is the absolute center of Buck's world, but Buck has never allowed himself to think of That Way
And Eddie meets Buck's eye over Tommy's shoulder and gives him a sad smile that lets Buck know he intends to go back to quietly loving Buck at just a little bit of a distance so that Buck can be happy with someone else
And just to really twist the knife, we get an overheard piece of dialogue in which Eddie refers to Buck as his "best friend" for the literal first time ever (I'm pretty sure? Up til now, any time the "best friend" label has been used it's been by Buck, but please correct me if I'm wrong.)
And the season ends there
Cue the entire fandom going APESHIT for the entirety of the summer hiatus
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cathartic-crypt · 2 days
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im continuing my benny posting by sharing my benny hcs. in no particular order. and very quickly typed up. enjoy ^_^
- tattooed. he has lots and lots and lots of tattoos from when he was a boot rider. all kinds of tattoos. some desert themed, some things based around him, some others depicting things he just likes. he doesnt mind them much nowadays, hes so used to them that he sees them as part of his skin. although hes a little bit iffy about showing others his old tattoos. hes got an image to upkeep after all - speaking of boot riders. he got a canine knocked out by bingo during their fight. so he got a gold one fitted shortly after he became the leader of the chairmen. and it glints like hell - he wears lots of gold jewellery. especially pre-war rings. he prefers engraved ones, ones with little images etched into the metal or ones with short messages rather than ones with gems. he also wears a cross necklace under his shirt - despite his gun and necklace...hes not christian. like at all. he doesnt care for religion and hasnt read anything about the engraving on his pistol or the meaning of necklace. he just likes how flashy and elaborate the imagery looks - by the time the courier rolls around hes 31. he's also 5'5". - he has a dad bod. i will personally fistfight anyone who draws him muscular and dehydrated. living the cushy and comfortable life of a casino boss means hes not some lean bodybuilder - however...thats not to say he ISNT strong or that hes unhealthy. he has a really high endurance, and can last for a long while out in the desert. also he doesnt like admitting it but hes probably a fraction better at straight up punching someone than shooting them at point blank range - since he was always outside and always doing something, he used to have super calloused hands. but again, casino life means theyre much more pampered and soft now - however hes still got one hell of a grip. he can very easily grab you by your shirt and throw you out of the front door without even breaking a sweat - hes Bi. theres literally no way he isnt, fuck you. BUT he really isnt one for meaningful romantic connections, he much prefers something quick with zero extra baggage (i.e. one night stands, friends with benefits) - hes super nosy. and almost terrifyingly good at recognising and remembering faces. he sees a new face in the tops that he doesnt instantly match to a regular? he needs to know their name. and then he promptly loses all interest because the mystery is lost and the people turn out to be, by all things considered, really fucking boring - even further...anyone who doesnt fall for his charismatic charm (or, even worse, doesnt care about his reputation) becomes a nuisance and he NEEDS to at least form some sort of impression on them, be it good or bad. like full on “if you dont form an opinion about me i will pull my own hair out” - he used to have an absolute love for geckos. he didnt tame them, he was more so inclined to hunt than to nurture, but he would feed scraps to the younger ones - which meant they began to follow him around from time to time... not anymore though. he thinks theyre dirty and brutish and a reflection of what it was like to be a boot rider - hes called Benny Boots (mockingly) by people around the strip. at least by those who knows about the three families past. other than that his last name is Gecko. he also personally calls himself Benny 'New Vegas' sometimes as a sort of boastful title because he thinks hes the shining face (not the heart, mind you - thats House) of the strip - hes a huge morning person. its something he picked up, and cant get rid of, from the boot rider days. he wakes up super early in the morning, rising with the sun - and hates sleeping in because he feels like hes wasting time. he goes to sleep pretty late, since new vegas is awake at night, but he doesnt feel tired. a couple hours of sleep is good enough for him.
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tenpintsof-sundrop · 16 hours
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I am getting so sick of shift in culture where people are now using fanfiction related tags like a fucking Burger King ordering system instead of just writing their fic ideas themselves and building up their skills by writing bad self indulgent fics first in order to write better fics later?
Like I get so annoyed when I see people posting shit like "I desperately need a fic with (super specific song) about (character) 😭" or "why is it always smut? where are all the fluffy fics?"
Write it. Write it. WRITE IT!!!!!!
If there is a specific kind of fic you want to see, write it. Fanfiction won't just come to you on a magical cloud if you wish for it and hope really hard - unlike music from your favorite band and big budget Hollywood movies, fanfiction is one thing where you can literally do it yourself with any plot you want and any characters set in any universe.
'Oh but my writing sucks-' yes and every single talented writer that you love also started out sucking. Very badly. And some of them might still believe they suck because insecurities are a thing. But they are still brave enough to push through it and write the fics they imagine in their head and even post those fics for you to enjoy.
There is something to be said for requesting fics from your favourite writer or sharing ideas for people if you want other people to write them when you don't have the time to - but if you are someone who never tries to write and just sits around wishing for someone else to write fics catered to you, then you don't understand the point of fandom.
Write the fics you dream of. Do it now!!!
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