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#there is literally ONE fic for them on tumblr that I’ve seen in the tag
chrollohearttags · 2 months
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long winded ass post I contemplated not writing but did it anyways. read if you’d like or ignore lmao.
so I feel as though this kind of goes without saying but a lot has changed on tumblr and the vibe has shifted a lot, sadly, not for the better either :/ I thought about this for a while and although last week, I was not posting any new content due to the strike, I’ve decided to step away from writing in general after this month. I could sit here and go on a tangent about how it’s the ‘algorithm’ and ‘dying fandoms’ but to me, this boils down to the fact that I refuse to exhaust myself to be unappreciated + disrespected. That’s not to say I’m ungrateful to everyone who reblogs and comments on my works all the time because I am incredibly grateful! I love each of you and I look forward to reading your tags/thoughts. However, it’s not lost on me that the anime fandom in general is becoming shrouded in toxicity and many of us are being pushed away. We’re in an age where people are seen as content machines and not humans so others feel entitled to their art and feel no need to be kind, understanding or empathetic to that person’s feelings. I’m not wasting my time trying to teach people manners that they should’ve learned a long time ago. I refuse to share my craft with people like that. And to say the quietest part out loud: y’all don’t want black writers around, PERIOD. One scroll through the dash shows that much. As someone who’s written primarily for AOT (not changing btw) and specifically the black side of the fandom, it’s almost laughable at the extreme lengths that ppl have gone through to see it be erased. And I don’t mean getting fics hit with labels or reporting (that failed so they switched to plan B.) since I began back writing in 2020-21, it was obvious that it was the most popular among black girls and I remember ppl telling me to write for them. Hell, it’s the sole reason I even watched. Needless to say, I fell in love with the show and it holds a special place in my heart. However, I realized I didn’t need any of the original material. Not only that, in all the years I’ve been writing, it’s the first time I’ve seen so many black girls resonating and happy with a group of characters. It was the first and only time I’ve seen stories where I didn’t feel as though them being a black character was a hidden secret or toned down to appeal to others (no shade). It was in my face and proud, even if I didn’t personally resonate with the reader or concept of the story. It still felt good coming from a fandom where I was literally the ONLY black writer in it. Fast forward and I clearly see that now, it’s not welcomed. We could sit here and blame it on non-blk (yt) having the problems but that’s a load of bullshit and the only enemies we have are one another. It’s been other black writers who have littered the tags with discourse abt the same stupid topic to avoid new fics being seen. It’s been other black writers who have switched fandoms when they were no longer the ONLY ones bc coexisting is just too damn hard apparently. It’s been other black authors who have made it blatantly clear that they are only interested in seeing and creating stories that are palatable to other races so they won’t be perceived in a negative light or to be seen as one of the ‘good ones’. Even down to not using black reader tags or avoiding coded language. So much so, they are comfortable laughing at anti-black rhetoric being pushed on other apps so as long as their new favs are not the brunt of the joke.
I’m not here to tell anybody how or what to write. I’m not here to say you ONLY have to like one show but what I am saying is that i will NOT be spending hours and days agonizing over a fic for it to be minimized to a joke for a bitch on TikTok. I will not spend the little free time I have trying to crunch and finish a fic for it not do well but watch y’all pile in my mentions to argue over nonsense. And I won’t sit here and watch y’all purposely try to run other black writers away bc they don’t fit ur aesthetic. Fiction is fiction and whether you resonate with it or not, it’s expression. I’m a boring ass country bumpkin from the middle of nowhere, Florida who’s got social anxiety, chronically ill, neurodivergent and is in bed by 10:00. I don’t smoke, never had sex and I literally never leave the house unless I’m grocery shopping. I never have and never will live the life of any of my characters, even the most tame ones. But I write for EVERY black girl and want everyone of them to be seen. The one space where that seems to be allowed is obviously not welcomed anymore. Arguing and trying to defend ourselves against people who are committed to misunderstanding us is pointless. Minimizing us down to ‘baby mama’, ‘hoodrat’ fics, simply bc you no longer like certain characters (many of which you all were writing for not too long ago) is quite frankly clown and coon ass behavior. Watching y’all become enraged by tropes that are used by ever race, every fandom, etc but turning the blind eye bc it suits ur narrative is fucking hypocritical and laughable at best.
I’m not insecure in my writing. Never have been and never will be. I know I pour everything I have into creating the best work I can and it’s for that reason that I won’t allow it to be treated like trash. I have over 250 drafts in my Google docs and best believe, that’s where they’ll stay until I see fit. Although I know it’ll probably mean leaving the last place I have any sense of community and social interaction in general, it’s not worth coming on here angry everyday in defense mode. Its not worth getting out of my character over and I rather just not be around if it means I have to play mean girl. My mind may change and all of this will just have been me getting shit off my chest but as of right now, this account will be archived come February 28th. Thank you to everybody who’s supported me this far and gave me a safe space. I love all of you so very much and hope that we can enjoy the rest of this month together 🫶🏾 🤍
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kaylinelizabeth4004 · 7 months
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Heaven is Here
SYNOPSIS: Through many fleeting moments throughout history with a strange woman, Aziraphale and Crowley learn they accidentally trapped a human soul to Earth, stuck to reincarnate forever.
TAGS: Aziraphale x Crowley x Reader, fluff, slight angst, soulmate au (on accident), history, historical settings, no beta we die like men
WORD COUNT : 12,253
A/N: This fic is kind of accidental. I’ve always been more about Aziraphale/Crowley in this fandom than any reader insert, but one day I happened upon a Tumblr fanfic and had an idea. This probably won’t be a regular thing - except I am planning a sequel to this exact fic - but I thought why not. Im still more Aziraphale/Crowley.
55BC—————
"And you love this?" Crowley asked, holding the seafood up to the light as though it would reveal to Aziraphale all the disgusting little details.
"It's delightful!" Aziraphale insisted, showing Crowley how to eat the oyster. "Try it, dearest. You might just enjoy it."
Crowley pursed his lips, not wanting to put whatever the hell this was in his mouth. But Aziraphale was looking at him with those eyes. He didn't know how describe them, and he didn't want to analyze how they made his heart hurt inside his vessel's chest. So he closed his eyes and ate the damned thing.
He put a hand over his mouth to stop the gagging. This Angel's taste was not quite normal if this is what he considered fine dining. He tried to smile politely, to not let him know that it was utter horseshit.
"You don't like it," Aziraphale said with a rather disappointed voice.
"N-No, I don't," Crowley said, and he didn't know why but he was sad to disappoint the angel. He was just trying to be kind after all, it wasn't as though he had properly sinned. But why would a demon feel bad for an angel? That went against his lot's whole thing.
However, Crowley found a wicked part of him that liked pissing off his lot. He'd never put it in as many words however.
"Pity, they are quite delectable."
"Sure, angel," Crowley said, sipping a large mouthful of wine. They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes, eating and drinking as they'd like. Then Crowley looked up to Aziraphale's soft "ahem." He was pointing behind Crowley, and when he turned he saw what caused it.
A young woman was sat in the corner, a large glass of wine in her hands, and she was weeping to herself. It wasn't loud or particularly noticeable, if it wasn't for the tear tracks down her cheeks, glittering as they caught the light. She was looking at her lap and sipping the wine, balking at the taste yet coming back for more.
"She looks happy," Crowley said.
"She looks sad! You demons need to learn the proper emotions."
Crowley stared at Aziraphale for a moment, wondering if he was joking. Upon realizing that Aziraphale was, in fact, not joking Crowley said, "that was sarcasm, Angel."
"What was sarcasm?"
"My comment, 'she looks happy.' Of course she doesn't look happy that's why I said it."
Aziraphale furrowed his brows, "but your words meant the opposite of what you said."
"Exactly," Crowley said. And with a flourish he added, "it's called sarcasm."
"But why say something you don't mean? Isn't that lying?" Aziraphale asked, in all sincerity.
Crowley thought it over, "s'pose it could be seen that way. Most people view it as ironic."
"Oh, yes, of course." Aziraphale took an anxious sip of wine, looking back towards the girl.
"Angel..."
"Yes?" He was avoiding eye contact
"You don't know what ironic means, do you?"
Aziraphale pouted, "no I don't and I quite detest that you do."
"Ironic literally means saying the opposite of what you mean for some sort of point. Mine being that she looks downright miserable."
"Even though you said she looks happy." Aziraphale said slowly as he tracked that line of logic through his head.
"Right, even though I said she looks happy."
"And that's ironic?"
"Don't ya think?" Crowley said with a wide smile, his teeth appearing almost like he had pointed fangs.
"Why yes I do think-"
"Angel, that was irony."
"Oh." Aziraphale blinked rapidly a few times then sipped his wine, embarrassed he didn't know something that Crowley did know. He thought he was the knowledgeable of the two. "Well, sarcasm or not, we should help her."
"We?"
"Why - yes, we're both here and we see -"
"I don't help people," Crowley said quickly, his voice deep and harsh. "I'm a demon, I do the opposite of help."
"Well, yes but-"
"There are no buts with this. My lot were created to ruin your lots pickings. I pillage and plunder, that's my job." Crowley said this firmly as though it would make his point clearer. The more intense he was, the more his words seemed to slur together a bit.
Aziraphale paused for a moment, and Crowley wondered if he was about argue his point once more. "Isn't the phrase rape, pillage and plunder?"
"I don't do that. I'm not a monster," Crowley balked. He finished his wine and set the glass down. Throwing some money on the table he said, "sorry Angel. Got a priest to tempt. Catch you later."
"Oh, goodbye." Aziraphale said as Crowley ambled off through the restaurants doors. But despite himself, Aziraphale found himself smiling. Crowley wasn't truly all bad, even if he thought himself it. His gaze at the doors quickly moved over to the pretty girl weeping. She was still crying and her glass was a lot emptied.
Aziraphale got up, straightened his toga, and walked over to the girl. "Oh, um, hello. I'm -" oh shoot, he hadn't thought of this part yet. He had to quickly think of a name. Instantly his eyes shot up to the art above her, a fleece. Aha! "Jason. My name is Jason. Pardon the intrusion, but I couldn't help but notice you're upset."
She sniffled, setting the glass down on the table. Aziraphale was struck by her face, now that he could see it not turned down and hidden. She was pretty. She eyed him warily, "Yeah, what's it to you?"
Aziraphale sat down on the chair opposite her, "I wondered if I might be able to help."
She laughed bitterly, "only if you can stop the Emperor." Aziraphale's eyebrows raised at that and she rushed to cover for herself, "oh no, I didn't mean that. All Hail the Caesar and what not. He's doing a mighty fine job."
"It's certainly not a 'mighty fine job' if he's got you crying as such."
"No, I s'pose not."
"What can I do for you?"
"Nothing," she said honestly, wiping the tears away quickly. "Honestly, Jason, I appreciate the thought but what's done is done. You can't change the past."
Aziraphale made a face in slight disagreement, though he knew he couldn't explain that to a human female. "Then perhaps telling someone will make you feel better. I harbor no connection with the Emperor, your opinions are quite safe with me."
She stared up at him after he said this, looking him truly in the eyes as though they told her all she needed to know. Then she did speak. "It's this invasion on Britain. My father and brother were both sent off and I worry. I've heard horrible things about the natives, truly barbaric things like removing of one's head. I don't want them to be hurt. Especially my brother, he's so sweet. He could get hurt by the army rather the natives."
"Hurt by his own army?"
"He doesn't stand up for himself. And that lot can be harsh. I s'pose I shouldn't blame them, I'd be harsh too if I had to kill people in battle. But I worry they will pick on him, push him 'round to try and get him to fight, and he won't."
"Ah, I see," Aziraphale said, rolling his tongue in his mouth as he thought it over. "Well, I can assure you one thing. The natives are not unnecessarily cruel. They do fight, but only when they need to. You couldn't expect anything less, dear."
She nodded, biting her lip. "No, you're correct. I'd defend my country against invaders as well."
"But they won't torture. Your brother will be quite alright, I'm sure of it."
After a minute of silence she looked up again at Aziraphale, "Thank you, Jason. Strangely enough, that makes me feel better. Knowing it wouldn't be torture."
"No, it wouldn't be."
"I really should be going, my daughter will be expecting me."
"Right, of course. Blessings on you, my dear." And though he'd already said the blessing, he felt compelled to say it again. To strengthen it for this poor soul. "Blessings on you forever."
Aziraphale helped her out of her seat. Just then, for an imperceivable second, Aziraphale thought he saw a golden shine cross her eyes. He didn't think much of it, figured it was the miracle. He'd never seen that happen, but he wasn't often looking in their eyes.
She took his hand, kissed the back of it, and thanked him again before walking out. Aziraphale smiled contentedly, though he felt a pull in his heart he hadn't felt before. Urging him to follow her, but he figured it was some sort of indigestion.
Crowley was sprawled on a bench not far from the restaurant, glancing up at a night time sky he couldn't see. He wanted to see it, but he gave up on that dream 2,000 years ago. The Fall took many things, and his eyesight was one of them. He could still see in general, he knew what people's faces looked like and where he was going. But specifics were lost on him, and the night looked like eternal darkness rather than the sparkling stars and planets he'd been told about.
"I helped create some of those," he mumbled to himself.
Then he closed his eyes, needing to not look at what he couldn't see. It still hurt, as though the wound wasn't thousands of years old. But it never properly healed in the first place.
He felt a weight against his foot and heard a thud within a matter of seconds, and he blinked in surprise. At his feet, a young woman was crumpled to the ground. His foot was sticking out in the pathway. Whoops.
He thought about rising to help her, then thought better of it. Beelzebub didn't need another reason to hate him. So he sat still and watched the woman get onto her hands and knees, glaring at him.
"Not going to help are you?"
"No, I think I'm keen to just watch," Crowley responded. She rolled her eyes, getting onto her feet and dusting off her toga. He examined her quickly, not knowing what to make of her. Then, she said something entirely unexpected.
"Keep your foot out of the way, asshole."
It wasn't a particularly inspired remark, nothing witty or threatening. But it was the fact that a random woman said that to him, a demon, without prompting. And with that remark, she walked away.
"Damnation on you eternally," Crowley murmured, waving his hand in a flourish towards the woman. He doesn't know why he said it, he's never really said it like that before and he certainly didn't why he even added the 'eternally' bit. But whatever the reason, he said it.
Though he knew she was too far away to hear him, she turned and looked back. And found a brief moment, maybe it was the trick of the light, he saw a golden shine pass over her eyes. She smirked shyly, then turned and walked away. And with each step, Crowley felt his heart pulse in a way he hadn't felt before.
1377—————
There was complete silence in the cathedral as a young boy, only aged 10 and dressed in trousers, walked through the crowd towards the priest. They seemed to hold their breaths as he lay on the floor before God, surrendering himself to Her mercy. Aziraphale watched the coronation. He had mixed feelings about the child, Richard. He wasn't a particular fan of the whole 'king' concept, but he thought the honoring to God bit was a nice touch. He wore simple enough clothes to note stand out, yet nice to enough to be recognized as a noble. His layers were in varying degrees of beige as he hid in the very middle of the crowd.
After the 10 minutes on the floor, Richard rose and made his way to the priest where he was being dressed in oil.
"Bit like a salad, eh?" A sultry, baritone voice said from beside Aziraphale, making him shudder. When he looked, it was Crowley. Dressed in similarly simple noble clothes, of course in tones of black and red, he watched the young king as different body parts were coated in oil for different purposes.
"Crowley? How did you get in here? It's a church?" Aziraphale said in a hushed whisper, earning glares from the people beside him. "Sorry Lord Wellington."
"Churches are built by humans."
"And what does that have to do with anything? You're still a demon in a place of worship for God," he said the word 'demon' especially softly for fear someone would turn in a panic at the word 'demon' being said in a cathedral.
"Yeah but it wasn't made by God. It was made for Her, by humans. Totally human structure."
"It is not."
Crowley shrugged his shoulders, "you got a better reason I can come and go in these?"
Aziraphale pursed his lips, "I suppose not."
A loud smack echoed through the church and Crowley frowned, "you made me miss the slap, Angel."
"That is your concern?"
Crowley shook his head in frustration, "He's a bloody king now, last time he coulda gotten hit and it's by a priest. S'course I wanted to see it."
"He's a child."
"Not anymore. He's got too much to think about now to be a child."
"No," Aziraphale wondered. "I suppose he's not longer a child at all. You know, dearest, you really do have the grandest thoughts when you think about it."
"Shut up," Crowley replied, his cheeks turning rosy at the compliment.
Within seconds of him saying it, the priest placed the crown on top of boy's head and declared loudly, "Long Live King Richard II!"
The crowd burst into applause as the young king was carried through the cathedral. They whooped and hollered, crying "all hail" and "god save the king" as he passed them by. The boy looked cheerful, pink cheeks and bright curls waving underneath a crown that looked awful heavy for a boy his age. But no, Aziraphale thought, perhaps this was the end of his childhood after all.
"Are you attending the feast afterwards? I hear they will serve beef, and I haven't have beef in decades!"
"Ahh, well I don't know, Angel."
Aziraphale smiled, leaning in as though he was sharing a conspiratorial secret, "I hear there are miraculously two spots for a Lord Fell and Mr Fell, if you are so inclined."
Crowley's eyebrows shot up, eyes hidden beneath his favorite pair of sunglasses, "oh you devil!"
Aziraphale's smile dropped, "don't you say that."
There was a pause as Aziraphale processed the hurtful words, and Crowley processed that he actually cared to make it right to him. Then all at once, they both started speaking on the issue, words overlapping in a frightful mess.
Crowley sighed, "Right I'm sorry -"
"- that really hurts -"
"- I know, I know -"
"- I mean, I am most certainly not fallen -"
"-we had this conversation in 1066 -"
" - I did not appreciate that."
" -I know, Angel. I'm sorry."
After that final note, Aziraphale nodded. "Alright, well. Thank you."
They started to walk together towards the banquet hall not far from there, waiting to indulge in fine wines and beef. There was a large parade towards it, all the nobles and even those fortunate peasants engaged in laughing and singing. Jesters performed stupid dances in their funny hats, knights marched in perfect unison, and songs came pouring from every lute and voice in the area. It was a perfect celebration of a new king, all on their way to fall victim to gluttony, drunkenness, lust, greed and infinitely more temptations.
All things that should fill Crowley's heart with a miserable sort of glee. And yet... he felt off. Crowley couldn't explain the feeling in his chest, almost like a nagging telling him things weren't right. But all this temptation, he thought. This ought to be perfect! But it wasn't, and he had a feeling before he even glanced at his Angel that it was because of him.
Sure enough, he was right. Though Aziraphale hadn't said anything, being kind enough to accept Crowley's words at face value and dropping it, but Crowley knew him well enough to know something was wrong. He hadn't made it up to him.
"Angel, a word -" Crowley said, grabbing Aziraphale's elbow and leading him away from the crowd. As he did so, he missed the way Aziraphale's mouth dropped open, blue eyes fixated on the contact. They'd rarely touched before.
"Yes, Crowley?" Aziraphale asked politely but his tone was full of too much passive aggression to really be polite. He stood stock still, arms poised in front of him and looked expectedly at Crowley.
"I- I, I need to..." Satan this was hard. The words felt like glue in Crowley's mouth but he did his best to force them out. "I need to, to s'make it up to you."
"Pardon?"
Oh damn Aziraphale, making Crowley actually communicate. "What I said, I was wrong. You were right. It wasn't right of me and I need to make it because my apology isn't enough."
"I never said that."
"Ah, yeah, you never said it. But you's do this thing with your face when you's upset. And my words aren't getting there. Just tell me what I can do to make it up to you."
They waited a moment, staring at one another. Suddenly, a large crash came from parade and the two looked over in surprise. The musicians were playing a long, one very eager man slamming the cymbals that caused such a loud sound. Behind them another jester bobbled along a delicate little dance, flourishing his arms on either side before turning and doing a bow.
Crowley saw Aziraphale's eyebrows raise, the corner of his cute little mouth twitch up and a finger pointed towards the little dance. He ran to stop it, saying, "no, no, no, I'm not doing that."
"Come now-"
"A dance? You want an 'I was wrong, You were right dance'? You can't be serious, Angel."
"I am serious, you wily serpent. Now do the little dance or I'll never forgive you," Aziraphale said in mock frustration, puffing out his chest.
Crowley saw before him a choice, between what his lot were bound to and Aziraphale. And without a second thought, he chose Aziraphale. He would choose Aziraphale every time, he just didn't know it yet. And so, despite all the humiliation he knew this would cause him if the bosses down under ever found out, Crowley did the little dance.
Aziraphale watched, eyebrows raised in shock. He hadn't thought Crowley would do it. Certainly not for him. But as Crowley bowed, enunciating his t's with a flourish, he couldn't help but smile.
"Very nice."
"Are we good, now?"
Aziraphale beamed, "quite right, dearest. We are quite right."
Crowley let out a breath, adjusting his glasses as though they would hide that dance from history's books. "Well then, let's get a move on."
The pair followed the parade into the banquet hall, and continued with the affair. Aziraphale literally wiggled in his seat when the food was placed before him, so excited he couldn't sit still. Crowley drank the wine, actually quite good for English wine.
Then the dancing started. King Richard - now Richard II - climbed on top of the table and proclaimed everyone to dance. And so, the nobles in their fancy gowns, drunk and laughing to no end, jumped from their seats to join in the dance. Aziraphale sat still for a moment, not knowing what he should do. Angels don't dance, not really. But this Angel longed to dance.
Crowley saw the way his fingers tapped along the table to the beat. He groaned, getting up from his seat.
"S'alright Angel, up up."
"Pardon -"
"You heard what I said. Come on Angel, let's dance."
Aziraphale giggled and got up, following Crowley into the chaos of swirling dresses and flirtatious looks between anyone and everyone. Almost immediately they were separated, swung by different partners.
Crowley danced with an older woman who squeezed his buttocks when she thought he wasn't looking. He wasn't fond of dancing, not the way Aziraphale was, but he enjoyed the freedom of it all. There were no rules, not really. Yes some people liked the structured ones where you pose and turn on every 3rd beat or what not. But in dancing there was an air of just living - being truly alive. That's what it was all about, it's all anyone yearned to feel.
In the next turn to switch partners, time seemed to slow for Crowley. He saw her, flitting between the people to slide her arm into Crowley's and continue the dance. She was pretty in an unconventional way. A way society might not call beautiful, but made Crowley stop and stare. He was pulled towards her, as though he couldn't control it. She was the center of his focus and he wanted nothing more than to meet her. Then, she turned that pretty gaze on him. Her lips quirked into a smile, hands warm and soft as they held his tightly. Her skin was flushed from the dance, and her dress swung around her in bright, dashing colors. The last dance had ended and all the people were gasping for air yet still ready to dive into the next.
"Hello," she said softly, though somehow he heard her voice over the crowd.
"Hello," Crowley answered back, not sure what to do. He'd never been in this position before.
"A dance?" She asked, taking a deep bow before holding her hand out. Palm up. She wore one, golden signet ring.
"I'd love to," Crowley answered honestly, taking her hand and pulling her into him.
She giggled happily, throwing an arm around his neck as he led the pair towards the center of the dance floor. He started to laugh along with her. Their dancing wasn't particularly good, both of them knew that, but they were having fun. She would twirl away only to twirl back into him awkwardly, laughing so hard she snorted which only caused a barking laughter from Crowley. They continued forward, holding each other close until the final pull drew them chest to chest. She was shorter than he, and she glanced up through dark lashes.
"Hi," she murmured, her breath hitting Crowley's face. She smelled of wine and temptation. He looked into her eyes and there it was - that one moment in history he thought was a fluke.
It had been 1,432 years, not like he was counting, but he didn't forget the way the golden band seemed to fleet over her eyes back in 55BC. And now, he saw that same golden shine slide over the same pair of eyes. It was just a second and yet it made Crowley's mouth drop. She saw it too, but for different reasons. He watched as she looked at his lips, he could tell what she was thinking.
She went to lean in, breasts pressed against his chest and breath hot, but was ripped away by the next dance. She giggled wildly as she was pulled into a circle, but found herself glancing over her shoulder to stare at the handsome stranger she almost kissed.
As Crowley stood in the middle of the floor, mystified, Aziraphale went over to his table to get a drink. All this dancing was positively amazing, but it certainly drained one of their energy.
As he brought the cup to his lips, a body crashed into his, sending the crimson liquid all over his clothes.
"Oh, bugger," he said, setting the cup down to assess the damage.
"I am so sorry, sir!" A girl said, breathless as she ran over. "That was entirely my fault. Please, let me help you clean it. I'm sure there's a tub not far."
Aziraphale smiled politely and went to decline the kind offer, but when he looked into her eyes he found himself agreeing to go with her. She lit up with excitement, grabbing his hand and pulling him away. There was something about her, something he couldn't explain. But he was in awe of her movements and eager to learn more about her.
She turned into an empty hall near a bathroom. She had him wait here while she collected a basin of water and grease.
"I can't promise it will fully work," she said as she set it down, "but I'll do my best. I really am so sorry, sir. I would have never ruined your clothes intentionally."
"It's quite alright. They weren't my favorite anyway," he said as he removed the outer layer. His multiple layers undergarments were fine, and could suffer slight staining. It was the outer garment that changed the most.
She shook her head as she dunked it in the basin, "you can't mean that, sir."
"I find that I quite do," he said, watching her with a quite awe.
"What's your name, sir? I feel I've seen you before," she said, suddenly watching him with the same astute attention. She kept narrowing her eyes as though she'd remember.
Maybe it was the stain, the wine, the party, the demon nearby, or maybe it was just this woman that did it to him but without realizing, he answered honestly, "Aziraphale."
Her eyes lit up, "like the Angel?"
"Precisely, my dear."
"That's a beautiful name. Aziraphale, Aziraphale... can you believe it?" She mumbled the last bit to herself, rubbing liberal amounts of grease into the fabric.
"Do you have a connection to the name? Or the Angel, perhaps?" Aziraphale asked curiously, wanting to hear more about her.
"I do, strangely enough. It's a silly connection..." she said, absentmindedly turning the signet ring over and over on her hand.
"I rather find that when it comes to angels and demons, nothing is silly." Aziraphale chose to neglect some of the more strange decisions the staff had made.
"I, well, oh goodness it sounds all made up. Well, I was in the shops the other day. My friend makes jewelry and he's very good. I came by and he said a man dropped off this gold signet ring with the name Aziraphale burned into it. Said he didn't know what to do with it, not many people knows the Angel, and he gave it to me." She took the ring off her finger, staring at it with an admiration before holding it out to him. "It's your name. You should have it."
"Oh I couldn't possibly take from you, dear."
She shook her head, "no it's not taking. It's a gift. It's fate, that I should have a ring for an Aziraphale just before meeting one of my very own."
"Oh dear, I couldn't -"
She interrupted him by pressing a soft kiss to the ring, taking his hand and sliding it onto his pinky finger. When she looked up, still holding his hand, Aziraphale's jaw dropped. That golden shine. Where had he seen that before? It was brief, flashing over a pair of kind eyes, but it was there all the same.
"Please accept this, Aziraphale."
"I - I will. Thank you, my dear."
Neither Crowley nor Aziraphale saw her after that night. They didn't know her name, her status, or even really remember her outfit. If Cinderella was around, she would have been the prime candidate for it. Neither told each other about their experience with a strange woman until 150 years later as they talked about Henry VIII's decision to have Anne Boleyn beheaded. Nasty business that was.
1601—————
"He's really quite good," Aziraphale said, watching fondly as the actor of Hamlet lamented about life and death. It really was moving the way he toyed between truly living a life, or if death was not truly what life was about.
Aziraphale found himself doing that 'excited sigh' that Crowley described. He found it an odd way of saying his behaviors, but Crowley insisted that when Aziraphale was excited it wasn't a 'satisfied sigh' but an 'excited sigh.' To be fair, he'd said this after 2 whole bottles of wine and a shot of pure vodka, so Aziraphale couldn't grant its true authenticity. A drunk demon would truly say anything just to illicit a reaction.
The speech made him wonder what it was like to be a human, with no certainty about what happens with their souls. They don't have a guarantee about life, or death, and yet are expected to do as they are told with no questions. Crowley knew what it was like to ask questions, and it lead to scars even Aziraphale didn't know about.
"Ngk, s'pose so." Crowley grumbled, watching as the man stamped his foot on the stage. "Bit dramatic, no?"
"It'd a tragedy!" Aziraphale countered, furrowing his brows in surprise.
"Eh, I still prefer the funny ones."
Aziraphale shook his head, turning to watch the man on the stage. A flash of purple fabric caught his eye, and his gaze traveled to see a young woman peaking out from behind the railing. She was trying to stay hidden, but Aziraphale could see that she just couldn't resist the temptation to watch the rehearsal. Her eyes were bright and wide, soaking in the sight. Her clothes were dirty and well worn, a few sizes too big and the hem covered in a layer of mud. But despite it all, she looked entirely unique.
She was pretty, and Aziraphale didn't often feel as though many humans were pretty. He appreciated the art of humanity, and believed each human was their own work of art. But he didn't feel a pull to any of them, but her... she had an attraction to her. He could see her lean too far over the edge, as though the stage were dragging her in. It wasn't just a love and an admiration, it was an addiction. Aziraphale could see what was going to happen moments before it did, but it was too late. The girl tumbled over the edge and fell onto the floor of the Globe, catching the attention of everybody in the rehearsal space.
Her cheeks immediately blotted pink, covering her face in a rosy hue as the stage manager came to her with a snarl, "oi, who're you?"
"I-I-"
"You's not supposed to be 'ere," he said, grabbing her roughly by the arm and dragging her to her feet. She stumbled along as he pulled her to the entrance. "Out with you."
"Mary? Whatcha doin here?" Crowley called out, sauntering over to the man and the girl. The man stopped, looking at Crowley with a skeptical gaze. The girl's eyes widened, bright and eager, as she realized what Crowley was doing and she nodded vigorously.
"Yes, sir, I came to fetch you! Mistress Paulson requested you." She said quickly, trying to stand on her own despite the stage manager's tight grasp.
The man cocked an eyebrow, "oh yeah? You know's him?"
"Know me? Know me?" Crowley sauntered over with a cackle, "me's and Mary goes way back."
She nodded, ripping her arm from the man's grasp then standing politely. "Oh yes, Mr..."
"Oh don't bother with all the Mr Crowley Miss whatever business, just call me Anthony like any other bloke."
"Anthony has helped my sister much. He's an excellent doctor," she said, standing firm. Aziraphale watched her in awe, he was impressed. She picked up that Crowley was saving her quickly, easing into the lie with an expert comfort. She seemed familiar, as though they'd met her before. And most importantly, she was intelligent.
"Doctor? You didn't mention that about your friend," the man said to Aziraphale, his enunciation so poor he practically spat the words at Aziraphale's feet.
Aziraphale flashed a charming smile, "I hadn't realized that those particular skills would, uh, come up in a theatre of this, err,... caliber."
"I haven't the pleasure of meeting you, sir." The girl piped up, her smile was warm and gentle. But he could see in her eyes a tension, wanting to convince this man to not throw her out or worse - press charges. "My's names Mary Edwins. Friend of Mr Crowley."
Mary Edwins, clearly a fake name. Just basic enough to be believable, but enough slight hesitation that Aziraphale knew she was lying. She gave a little curtesy, spreading the oversized purple skirt over the floor. It really was too large, but she still looked charming. Aziraphale felt as though he'd seen that curtesy before. There it was, fast you could have blamed the lighting, Aziraphale knew better. There that same golden shine came over her eyes, if just for a moment. His mouth fell open in a little 'o,' unable to speak for a while 10 seconds before stuttering out, "oh, h-hello Miss Edwins, I'm Mr Fell."
The stage manager thought on it for a moment, before deciding that he wasn't paid enough to care. It was hours away from opening night, after all, and the little boy playing Ophelia needed alterations in his costume.
"Alright then," he said, walking back towards the director, a Mr William Shakespeare.
The girl was still a few feet away as Crowley walked dramatically back towards Aziraphale. The Angel tried to ignore it. He hadn't mentioned that part of it with Crowley, and he didn't know how to continue. Crowley mistook Aziraphale's expression as one of angelic smugness and rose a finger, "shut it, Angel."
"That was a good thing you did," he said with a little smile. He pushed it to the back of his mind, something to worry about when it was late and the city was asleep.
"Twasn't good, no. I was, real, I - I - I was bad. I let a criminal get away."
Aziraphale patted Crowley's shoulder, "no, dearest. You let a woman enjoy her passion. Look at her, you've saved her."
The pair glanced over at her as she tried, and failed, to subtly watch the actors get ready for their next scene. Her hand was on her heart, as though if she didn't put it there her heart would pop right out.
"Ehhh, that's not saving. Not really."
"Oh, it's not? Then what would you say is a human's purpose?" Aziraphale asked with a soft voice.
"I thought that's your job, Angel. Praising God and what not."
Aziraphale pursed his lips, looking away from Crowley. "You know as well as I that love of God is not all humans were made for. I am of the firm opinion they are here for their passions. They survive by it. They might be able to live with food and water alone, but no soul could truly exist without their drive. And this woman, her passion is theatre."
"Rather blasphemous words from an Angel."
"Rather kind actions from a demon."
Aziraphale smiled, looking towards the stage. Crowley tried to hide the blush on his ears and cheeks. It was always his ears that turned bright red from, from, well he didn't quite know from what. But he felt the heat and looked away. He looked at the girl, who perked your once she realized he saw her. She went over shyly.
Despite her apprehension, she raised her voice enough to say, "thank you for your help, Mr Crowley and Mr Fell."
"Mmm," was Crowley reply, gazing around the globe with a distinguished air about him. As if he was the most important person in the room. He tried to ignore her presence. She had a pull to her and he couldn't explain it, didn't want to address it. He already had the issue of a certain Angel who wouldn't leave his mind.
"Who are we to stop the love of the arts?" Aziraphale said, rather eccentrically. "Though you could have waited a few hours to see the whole show."
"I can't afford it," she said quietly, staring at her feet. Aziraphale noted her sweet little boots, their pointed ends digging into the dirt out of anxiety. "My mistress only gave me the morning. I need to be back in an hour."
Crowley and Aziraphale shot a glance with one another, not quite knowing how to respond. They stood in silence, the girl's eyes wide as she drank in Ophelia's mad lullabies.
"What's your name?"
"Mary Edwins."
Crowley smiled, "nice try, love. Your real name."
She cocked an eyebrow, glancing up at first at Crowley, then at Aziraphale, before looking back at her reflection in his sunglasses. "Why do you want to know?"
"We did help you, dear. We'd just love to know you, but if you cannot tell us, we won't rush you."
"Are you two a couple?" She asked quickly, pointing at the two and waving her hands in some strange, gesture of coupling. Her choice of question was so drastic, they didn't bother to notice the intentional diversion in topics.
Aziraphale looked up, mouth dropping in a little 'o' and he looked at Crowley. Crowley lifted a brow. Aziraphale answered, "We've known each other for a long time."
"That doesn't answer my question, Mr Fell."
"Aren't you a sly one, Miss Edwins." Crowley sneered, his top lip recoiling.
She just smiled, shrugging her shoulders with a little giggle. "Suppose so, Mr Crowley."
The golden shine. Crowley sucked in a harsh breath as she turned to look back at the stage. He could practically hear all his thoughts as they raced through his head, and he was unable to settle on just one. Those eyes. He hadn't seen them in years and yet this was the third woman who just happened to flirt with him, and had a gold shine go across her eyes. He reckoned she didn't know it happened, she probably didn't know what those little eyes could do to an immortal creature. Crowley swallowed, praying she never had to.
Then, the show continued and 'Mary's' eyes seemed transfixed. Aziraphale loved the theatre, Crowley enjoyed it, but 'Mary' adored it.
Crowley watched her eagerly, partly out of curiosity and partly because he liked feeling her passion in his soul as though it was her own. He found himself attracted to it, a drag of one's purpose. The passion filled her up, and she seemed to want to lean into it. She gasped as Hamlet killed his mother, she listened with eager ears as he instructed the actors on how they were to act, she cried as it seemed that everyone fell to the floor in a miserable death. Then, it was over. Actors stumbled to their feet, laughing as though they weren't stabbed with poisoned rapiers. The story was over, but 'Mary' seemed to be in a daze. Crowley watched with shrewd, yet eager eyes as she came out of it.
Then she straightened her back, smiling tightly to both of them. "Mr Fell, Mr Crowley, thank you for letting me stay. It has been such a gift. I'm afraid I must go."
"Let us escort you home," Aziraphale said, without realizing what he was offering.
She blinked wide eyes, "there's no need, sir. It's two blocks away."
Crowley lifted his chin, "love, we'd like to see you off safe."
"If you insist. Though I must tell you it's entirely through the city. Eyes will be on you at all times," she said it as a threat, a reminder to not do anything unsavory. Crowley almost frowned at that little bit of false hope. If they actually had bad intentions, a crowd wouldn't stop anything. She wasn't truly safe. But both Crowley and Aziraphale nodded, as though they truly headed her warning.
"Was that your first Shakespeare production?" Aziraphale asked, making polite conversation as he walked on one side of her, Crowley on the other.
"Oh, no. I do my best to attend all of them. I tend to prefer the funny ones, but the crowds can be a bit much for me."
"Eh? What'd you mean by that?" Crowley asked.
She blushed, "I don't like when crowds get very loud. They tend to jeer and toss things at the actors. It doesn't feel safe for anyone. I do enjoy his dramas though."
They walked in companionable silence for a moment before she asked the next question, "what do you two do? If I may, you're dressed rather odd."
"Odd?" Crowley asked with a frown, gazing down at his outfit. He was quite proud of this outfit. The ruff was amazing, really helped one feel confident.
'Mary' giggled. "I don't dislike your outfits, you just don't see these colors often."
Aziraphale and Crowley exchanged a glance, shifting in their outfits. Perhaps they do cling to their colors a bit much. But Aziraphale never felt it was a problem, he was proud of his wardrobe.
"I make my own clothes," Aziraphale said with a smile.
'Mary' lightened up, her eyes taking on a bright, sparkling quality before she actually smiled, a little tell that Aziraphale noticed. He'd seen that before, but couldn't place it. "That is quite wonderful, Mr Fell. I'd love to make my own, however I mostly sew for my mistress."
"You make her clothes?"
"Oh no, I tend to mend them."
The conversation lulled again, and Crowley bit his lip as he thought before asking the question that has been on his tongue since the play ended, "why do you love theatre so much?"
Her chest flared, her eyes wide and sparkling, and she could barely contain the words before they poured from her in excited spurts, "what's not to love? It's stories about being human wrapped up in fancy costumes and dramatic voices. It's full of stories that seem so outrageous yet we still find our way to connect. Isn't it just fascinating that you could watch a show about a man, driven mad by jealousy caused by a deceiving friend, murdering his wife and leave full of emotions? You'd think you'd be mad at the murderer, condemning him for killing his love. And yet, there's more to it than that. You can't quite hate Othello, but you can't love him either. It's so hard to explain what it is to be human, there's no word or sentence to explain it. It can be so isolating. But these stories can give us insight. I, sorry, I'm rambling," she said, taking a wistful sigh.
"Stories can be found anywhere, dear. Books, especially," Aziraphale noted. He enjoyed hearing her speak with such fire. In the back of his mind, he felt as though he could recall someone else talking about their love of stories, but he couldn't place it.
She nodded, smiling. "Yes, of course. And I adore books too. It's just... theatre is such a temporary art. Those moments on stage, or watching, could never be recreated, it could never be exactly as it was. And that's what made it so beautifully tragic. You are stuck with a slightly different story each night, with different takeaways."
"What a beautiful takeaway," Aziraphale said, watching her with a slight sort of awe.
She blushed, "I'm hardly unique in that way."
"Ngk," Crowley mumbled in disagreement, though he didn't actually say a word. Yet, she seemed to still understand what he was trying to say and blushed all the same.
As they walked, Crowley took off his sunglasses for a moment to wipe his eyes. He seemed to forget that his were unusual, yellow and with a snake like slit as a pupil.
"Are you alright?" She asked.
"M'yeah," Crowley answered, opening his eyes to look at her. After the initial realization he was seeing her without glasses, thus revealing the snake like eyes, he went to shove the sunglasses back on. But she wasn't looking unkindly at him.
Instead, she smiled widely, "they're beautiful."
"Wot?" He said in shock.
"Your eyes are beautiful, Mr Crowley." Then, as Crowley sputtered in surprise, she stopped in front of an expensive flat. "This is me mistress's. Thank you, Mr Crowley and Mr Fell."
She looked both of them in the eyes as she said their names, and with equal kindness and appreciation. Then, she turned away and scampered around towards the servants entrance. Aziraphale waited until she was inside to blow out a breath.
"She was something," Crowley said.
"Yes, she was."
"I- angel, I could be wrong on this but didn't she feel-"
"Familiar?" Aziraphale finished for Crowley, looking down the alley as though she would magically reappear.
"Yes! It's so bloody weird," Crowley said, rubbing his hand along his jaw.
"Yes, weird," Aziraphale said, enunciating weird in an odd way that made Crowley furrow his brows. The two beings tried to shrug off this encounter, heading their separate ways for the time being.
1865—————
Aziraphale stared at Crowley as though he'd never seen him before, utterly gobsmacked. "I will not provide you that, that thing! It's suicide."
"Aw not for that Angel," Crowley groaned, waving his hand nonchalantly as though he hadn't asked for the one thing that would completely kill him. "Just for, err you know, protection."
"You are a demon, Crowley. The world would need protection from you."
Crowley tried to not let that sting. He'd never said as much to Aziraphale, but these last 200 years have really brought some perspective over what it is to be a demon. He found a weird sense of discomfort over the word demon. As though he were entirely bad because of what he was, and not what he does. But he'd never say it, or tell Aziraphale he accidentally rhymed.
"It's not like that, I just want to secure myself. That's all."
Aziraphale pursed his lips and looked away, not bearing the thought that his closest acquaintance would dare to think of something like that. It was simply not going to happen, Aziraphale refused to let that happen. Crowley was going to live forever, with Aziraphale, and he was going to do so happily. He'd never tell Crowley, of course, but Aziraphale didn't know if he could manage eternity without him.
"Oi! That can't have that!" Crowley said quickly, throwing himself off the bench and facing towards a woman standing by the river.
She turned to look at the, in her view, random man dressed in mourning garb barreling towards her and shouting in a thick accent. She clutched the loaf of bread close to her chest, eyeing him warily as he continued rambling.
"Bread's not good for 'em, it can - can - can cause diseases," he said once he got close to her.
She sucked in a breath. He was taller than he'd looked from afar, and she found herself staring at him. He was also quite handsome, with tanned skin and shocking bright red hair, curled away from his face. She noticed a pair of odd looking spectacles hiding his eyes, and a tattoo peaking out beneath his sideburns.
"I'm sorry, I didn't know," she said breathlessly. She felt kind of stupid now, holding a loaf of bread as he stared at her with a passion for the ducks. A man dressed in all beige apparel came by quickly, standing by the other man's side. He looked kind, with bright blue eyes and plush pink lips she didn't even realize she'd taken note of.
"I'm terribly sorry for my friend's outburst," Aziraphale said to the woman, still looking shellshocked. "Though I'm afraid he is right, bread is not the best for them."
She looked down and stared at it. "Right, well I apologize. I hadn't been doing it long, if it's of any comfort."
Crowley grumbled but didn't say anything else, eyeing her with skepticism. After a pause where the three stood in silence, the woman tore the loaf into three sections. She then offered up a piece to each of the men, "better we eat it than them?"
Crowley and Aziraphale exchanged a glance, they hadn't expected this. Maybe it was the mood of St James's Park or the pull of this young girl, but they reached out to accept their proffered piece.
Just then a golden shine passed over her eyes. Both men's jaws dropped as they'd never shared of this particular detail of their stories, and had never experienced it together. And, for the first time, she seemed conscious of it too.
A hand went up to her cheeks just below her eyes, which had grown wide in surprise. "What was that?"
"Pardon?" Aziraphale asked in that slightly tense voice he had when he was covering up for something.
"The, my, my eyes. I was looking and then it went all - gold like."
"Oh I don't know about that," Aziraphale said.
She shook her head vehemently, pointing at the both of them. "Yours did too, and yours!"
"You saw our eyes shine gold?" Crowley asked shyly.
"Y-yes. I saw through your spectacles. The whole eye, it went gold -"
"It must have been a trick of the light, dearest. Eyes don't 'go gold.'"
She shook her head again, "no. I know what I saw. I, I think I'd better go. Thank you for the, the, the ducks."
"Wait-" "Don't go-" Aziraphale and Crowley started at the same time, but she'd already lifted her skirts so she could walk away as quickly as possible.
"She saw it this time," Crowley said, mouth open in surprise.
"This time? This time? You've had a girls eyes shine gold before?" Aziraphale asked, trying to ignore the way his heart ramped up at the news. Crowley felt it too, it wasn't all him.
"And by the sound of it, you have too."
"Yes, I have. But only thrice before, 55BC, 13-"
"-77 and 1601."
Aziraphale's blue eyes widened and he stared at Crowley in shock, "I- I, how did you know?"
"Same for me, Angel. Same for me."
"So she's connected then, to the both of us." Aziraphale said slowly, trying to work it all out in his head. Crowley nodded, pursing his lips and making a 'tsk' noise under his breath.
"She's looked different each time. I don't think she's an Angel or a demon," Crowley said, ripping off a small piece of the bread she gave him and tossing it into the water. No, it wasn't good for them but who cares at this point. They were eternally connected to something.
"No, I think you're quite right. She's something else entirely. I'll have to do some research, I'll let you know if I have anything of note."
Crowley swallows, "same 'ere."
"Okay. Well then, good afternoon to you," Aziraphale tipped his hat and wandered off back to his book shop, his head completely filled with ideas of shapeshifters and witches, all sorts of creatures.
Current Day—————
Crowley parked the Bentley outside Aziraphale's shop, the wheel a slight tap before getting out. It was cold today, and he saw dozens of people shuffling into Nina's shop for some warmth. He himself was freezing but he knew even slightly suggesting to Aziraphale would earn him some pampering, blanket tucked in, hot chocolate, and near undivided angelic attention. Normally he didn't like asking for it, but it's been a weird few years with the Armageddon't, and he could use some pampering.
He felt a pang in his chest, a strange sort of pull he didn't know what to do with. What did humans do when their hearts hurt? Then it struck him - he wasn't human. Why would his heart be hurting?
"Oi, you doing okay?" A voice said from the pavement outside Aziraphale's shop. Crowley looked up, surprised to see Nina with a bag full of ingredients.
"What're you doing out
She held up the bag with a raised brow, as though he was stupid to just suggest it, "you're alright then?"
"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. But you haven't got other staff and the place's full."
"Oh, yeah, forgot you didn't know about that." Nina said dryly. "I hired a new barista. Name's Y/N. New to town."
There it was, that pull dragging him towards her shop. He couldn't explain, tried to rack his brain as to what would want him in there. He glanced back through the windows, trying to see if anything was amiss.
Each instance with her seemed to last for a second, barely enough to know if it was the truth or a trick of the light. But Crowley had lived long enough on enough stupid planets to know that when he saw something that wasn't typically there, it wasn't a figment of his imagination. He swallowed, trying to betray anything to Nina.
"Right. Well then, better get back to it," he said, moving past her shoving his way into Aziraphale's bookshop.
"Oh Crowley, wonderful you're here-"
"Yes, yes, I'm wonderful, you're wonderful, the world's bloody wonderful. Angel, do you remember in 1865 when we saw her in St James's Park?"
There wasn't a need to clarify who the 'her' was. Aziraphale straightened, removing his spectacles from his nose. "Yes, I do."
"And you remember when you said you'd research it and report back, but never did?"
"Yes, I do. Crowley-"
"I need that research now, Angel." Crowley said quickly, not letting Aziraphale ask more pointless questions.
"Nothing came of it, dear, that's why I'd never told you. We would have sensed if she was a witch, angel, demon, or anything other supernatural. We have those senses."
"Are you absolutely sure?"
"Crowley, what happened? What did you see?"
"She's here."
Aziraphale's eyebrows shot up and he placed a surprise hand on his chest, not quite knowing what to do with that information. "Here?!"
"In London. In the coffee shop, in Nina's coffee shop. I - I saw her. There was a golden thread between us. I know it's her, Angel. She looks different but she has every time. It's her."
"You saw a golden thread?"
"Yes."
Aziraphale put his spectacles back on, heading for one of his bookshelves towards the back of the shop, "are you absolutely sure?"
"Yes, Angel, I'm bloody positive."
"A Golden thread has never shown up before. The previous times were all the, err, the eyes. This means something." Aziraphale said, gathering the dusty book from his shelf and depositing it on his desk with a thud. "In Greek mythology the golden thread was your life line. Your life thread so to speak. Fate, destiny, the whole nine yards."
"Yes, Angel, but the Greeks were wrong and that's how we exist so what does it mean for us?" Crowley grabbed a chair and fell into it, placing a frustrated hand on his temple.
Aziraphale thumbed through pages until he found what he was looking for. He read the words, but it only helped to scrunch his brow. "This doesn't make any sense. The threads only have two colors, two avenues."
"What do the threads mean, Angel?" His tone pained in frustration. This girl was scaring him, and he couldn't explain why. As far as he knew she presented no threat to him. And yet all the same, he feared her. He wasn't a fan of the unknown. Everything had been so planned out for so long, even though he didn't like the idea of the world ending it was a plan nonetheless.
"It says here that white thread is for eternal blessings. Saints and what not. Black thread for eternal damnation. But it only exists on a human while they are alive."
"Wot? I don't see black threads on people, d'you see white threads?"
Aziraphale adjusted his spectacles, "it says here they only appear if an Angel, or in your case, dearest, a demon, specifically bless them. Or, err, curse them."
"Still, you'd think 6,000 years and I woulda seen something."
Aziraphale nodded in agreement, "I've not seen any either."
"Wait, how'd you know about all this then?" Crowley waved a hand vaguely in between Aziraphale and the book.
Aziraphale looked confused for a moment, "all this? Oh, ah, you mean how I've come to know about the threads? Well it is to my understanding that this was brought up by Michael -"
"Head honcho Michael?" Crowley asked.
"Yes, though I wouldn't use such human terms myself. Michael had thought it up around 100BC. Thought it would be a fun way of identifying humans. But the upstairs didn't fancy the idea, She dispelled it not too long after."
"Hmm... never woulda pictured that out of Michael."
"Well, they say you never really know someone." Aziraphale replied, looking back over the pages as Crowley began to ramble.
"Always thought that applied to killers. No one ever says that 'bout the good deeds, they only say it after you've hurt someone. If someone's killed a kid, everyone's all up in arms like 'you never really knew 'em.' But if someone's a paramedic no one's like 'you never really know-'"
Aziraphale felt his jaw drop open as the words at the bottom of the page finally clicked. Part of the reason Michael's plan never worked, at least according to Gabriel, was that the wording was too specific. "No one uses 'eternally' in their everyday vocabulary," he had argued. Back then Aziraphale had quite agreed with Gabriel, but everyone agreed with Gabriel if it meant shutting Michael up. But he remembered a time not long before the thread idea was vanished when he had used the word 'eternally' in conversation. He reread to be sure, then piped up over Crowley's random complaining, "C-Crowley... do you remember what you said to her in 55BC?"
Crowley's face scrunched as he tried to think all the way back. "I, uh, tripped her. On accident, then she called me an asshole and I-I damned her for eternity I think."
"Oh dear."
"What does this 'oh dear' me? Angel?" When Aziraphale didn't say anything Crowley got up, stalking over to him quickly. "What did you see?"
"I blessed her for eternity."
"So? What's that mean?"
"I-I think, and I could be very very wrong, however I think that means we've, err, we've trapped her soul in an endless strain between Heaven and Hell."
"No, no, no, no," Crowley started to say, unconsciously pacing as he tried to unravel it all in his head. "That doesn't make any sense. Her thread is gold, white and black don't make gold. It makes grey, she should be grey!"
"I think the color of her thread is far from our biggest issue, Crowley."
"So, so what? She's trapped to us?"
Aziraphale ran a hand down his face, trying to process. "I- she might be."
"But her body's changed each time. It's not the same woman."
"Ah, but her eyes. They've stayed the same. You know as well as I do they're the same."
Crowley stopped, knowing he didn't have grounds to argue. Aziraphale was right, after all. Then he groaned, rubbing his eyes. "Fucking hell-"
"Language," Aziraphale said with pursed lips.
"Wot? For the fucking or the hell part?" Crowley snapped, then upon seeing Aziraphale's dropped expression he immediately retracted. "I'm sorry. That was rude. You're not getting the stupid dance though. Angel, she's not immortal. Her soul is. She must just keep being, being reborn. But the soul from 55BC is still the same."
"That would make sense," Aziraphale said. "They do say the eyes are the window into the soul. Perhaps that explains why they remain while the rest of her can change."
"Yeah, yeah. It makes sense, don't it?"
"So we've accidentally trapped a human soul to Earth to live and die for eternity?"
"Yeah, yeah," Crowley sniffed. "Think we did, Angel."
There was a quiet pause as the two reflected on what they just realized. They, unwittingly, had created an immortal creature. She doesn't even know she's immortal, and by the past experience it sounds as if her mind is wiped with each death. But her soul lives on.
"Fuck," Aziraphale said quietly.
Crowley looked up sharply, "wot'd you say?"
"I said fuck." He repeated, with more confidence this time around.
On any normal circumstance, Crowley would laugh and cherish the moment he saw Aziraphale curse - and with fuck of all of them - but he couldn't help but think Aziraphale was right. Fuck, indeed.
"What do we do?" Crowley asked.
"We have to tell her."
"We do? Why's that? What d'ya think we're gonna say? Hi random stranger I'm a demon he's an Angel and your soul is stuck, here have a cuppa."
"Well that would be straightforward -"
"Sarcasm, Angel. You've been here for thousands of years and you still don't process sarcasm."
Aziraphale stood up and went over to Crowley, touching his shoulders so he'd look up to him. "I understand that this is difficult. This is, it's entirely unprecedented territory. But she deserves the truth." He leaned in, his voice but a whisper. "It does help that we both feel a pull to her. Once we see her, it hurts to no interact. Perhaps we can find a way to end this, to help her."
Crowley swallowed, looking away from Aziraphale's bright blue eyes. He smelled of vanilla and old books, a scent Crowley would bottle up and spray all over his stupid, cold flat if he could. Maybe this girl could help, maybe she was good. But they first needed to meet her.
"Alright. Fine. Let's go, now," Crowley said, sliding his sunglasses back on. Aziraphale nodded and retrieved his coat.
The pair walked out of the bookshop, locking up, and swiftly walked cross the street. They hesitated outside the door, neither knowing what to do. A flash of a blue apron in the window caught their attention, and then a golden thread, shining in the light, emerged and wrapped round the owners waist.
"You seeing that, Angel?"
"Y-yes, I am. It's not faded."
It didn't. It sparkled and swayed in the air, moving with the owners body as she walked around in the shop.
"On three," Aziraphale said. Crowley grumbled in agreement. "One, two ... three."
They opened the doors and were almost immediately greeted by a sweet smile and kind eyes. The same eyes they'd seen for hundreds of years. She smiled, tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear.
"Hi guys, welcome in! Feel free to take a seat wherever you like, I'll be with you in a moment."
"O-okay," Aziraphale said, his voice wispy in the confusion and whirlwind that was her. But she was entirely unaware, blissfully living in her own world that she didn't know was about to be ruined.
They sat in a far corner, away from any windows. Crowley sprawled in the seat, looking anywhere but at Aziraphale. Aziraphale sat stiff as a bored, left leg bouncing so furiously the table itself started to shake.
"Right, what can I get you lads?" She seemed to appear out of nowhere, shining golden thread wrapped round her sweet waist right where the apron was tied.
Aziraphale spoke first, not looking her in the eye but instead staring out the window. An uncharacteristically rude action on his part. "Oh, um, just a latte please. With 3 shots of vanilla."
"Ooo, yum. And for you, the one with the glasses?" She asked, her voice light.
Crowley thought for a moment. Better bite the bullet, eh? He turned, took his sunglasses off, and looked her in the eyes. "Espresso, darling."
Her eyes had a golden flash and she seemed to jump, her pad falling to the table in her shock. She looked between Aziraphale and Crowley with wide eyes, hands going to her stomach as she took deep breaths. "Aziraphale. Your name is Aziraphale," she said to him. Eyes wide. She turned to the demon. "You're Crowley."
"Yes, dear, we are."
"Why do I know that?" Her voice was shaky and yet she stayed, not angry or scared that she knew unknowable information.
Aziraphale and Crowley exchanged a glance. Crowley sighed, flicking his hand. Time around them stopped. Customers held their mugs up in the air, Nina mid pouring a cup, and a man getting ready to ask for the most ridiculous drink he could think of. All were trapped in this moment except for her, Aziraphale and Crowley.
She jumped, looking around with wide eyes, "h-how'd you do that? Why did you do that?"
"Please, take a seat dear," Aziraphale said, snapping as a plush chair appeared behind her. She tripped into it, her body language stuff and frightened.
"This is all feeling like a very strange dream, and I don't like it," she said, taking deep breaths to try and clear her mind. "Did you just stop time and if so, how the hell did you? And you just miraculously created a chair? And why do I know who the hell you are?"
"Dearest, it's not a dream, I'm afraid. You have met us before. You've met us multiple times before," Aziraphale took a breath. "I-I'm afraid we have some complicated news."
"Tell me who the hell you are!" She was getting scared, her heart fighting against her rib cage. She wanted to get up, she wanted to run away, put her hands over her ears and scream 'la la la' over and over until they left her alone. But she didn't. It wasn't a physical thing, even though these familiar strangers had put her in a terrifying position she knew they'd let her go. It was her soul that kept her trapped. "Who are you? I need to know. Who are you really?"
Aziraphale placed a warm hand on her own. His was large, soft and yet strong. She liked the feeling of his hands as he held one of hers, looking into her eyes. "My name is Aziraphale. I am an Angel of God. I was the Guardian of the East Gate at the Garden of Eden, but now I am on Earth. I perform miracles and I run a bookshop, with my dearest friend."
His eyes glanced over to the other man. He was handsome, tanned skin with fiery red hair slicked up and back over his head. Aziraphale might have called him a friend, but she wasn't stupid enough to believe that. It was more than that, maybe they didn't know it but she definitely did.
Another hand grasped hers, this one lean and long. He grasped her hand with a soft intensity she didn't know possible. "My name's Crowley. I'm a demon, you'd know me cause I was a, uh, let's call me a reptile."
She blinked rapidly, "you were the snake that tempted Eve?"
"Wow, she's a quick one," Crowley smiled widely.
"Wasn't he cursed to only use his belly?"
Crowley rolled his eyes, "it's complicated."
"You, both, are not human. You're an Angel and you're a demon. So Christianity is right."
"Yes, love. But God is actually a She, that bit got muddled," Aziraphale smiled. "Are you feeling better?"
"That doesn't explain, why- why do I know you? I recognize both of you, but I don't know why. Then you made that comment about having met me multiple times, for years, what does that mean?" She was getting a little riled but she tried to stay calm. This wasn't going to make any more sense by screaming at a literal demon. And Angel, but the demon was more infuriating at the moment. He stared at her with a mix of awe and shock, and she didn't want to think about any of it.
Aziraphale sighed, "before the current era, you know Roman times and what not, the Archangel Michael played with the idea of threads. It was similar in concept to the Greek idea of fate -"
"You happened to be alive when this was a thing. It means when a demon curses you and says the word 'eternally' a black thread'll appear to let everyone know you're damned forever. White thread with angels."
"I'm damned forever? Wait, you said Roman times - I was alive during the ancient roman era?"
"Well, darling, he blessed you and I cursed you at the same day. Meaning your soul is trapped with both Heaven and Hell," Crowley said softly. "We think your soul has been reincarnated since about 55BC. And it's because of us. This Golden shit you see is our connection."
"But white and black make grey?"
Crowley clapped and said "aha! She gets it!"
"Crowley," Aziraphale said, though his eyes were light with amusement. "We can't explain the color of the thread. But we believe it means you're connected to us. Both of us, we get this pull to you when you're around. As though we have to see you."
There was a moment of silence as they let her collect her thoughts. Unconsciously, she'd curled up into a ball on the comfy chair Aziraphale had miracled. She thought and thought, rolling over the idea that she's trapped here on earth. An accidental immortal being tied to these two.
She glanced at Aziraphale. She knew him, she has known him. She bit her lip, wishing to understand everything as it was.
"M-May I?" She asked, tentatively lifting a hand near his face. She needed to touch him, to feel him, to try and remember.
The Angel nodded. He was soft, his hair light and white, in short curls on top of his head. She liked the curls, they looked rather fetching on him. Her fingertips brushed lightly down his face, feeling his kind face. She liked his lips, they were pink and couldn't fight a smile. Then she glanced down and saw his hand in his lap. Running an hand down his shoulder to his hand, she lifted it and eyed the golden ring.
"Aziraphale..." she murmured. It all started to fall into place. The dancing, the food, the wine. He'd looked so out of place in pale clothing, so obviously finer than anyone else's. He'd tried to blend in with an outdated style, to balance the richness, but she could spot him through the crowd with ease. His cheeks had gotten pink, and he'd gone for a drink. She hadn't meant to spill on him, she just wanted a chat. "I gave you this ring. You didn't want it at first, but I gave it to you. It says Aziraphale on it."
He took a shaky breath, his eyes becoming glassy with tears. His lips trembled as he said, "you did."
Aziraphale slid the ring off his finger, turning it so she could see the inside. There enough his name was scrawled in haphazard writing. It had faded from the years, some of the details lost to time. But she remembered this ring when it was new. When William had gotten it in his shop and didn't know what to make of it. And she'd taken it, knew it would be special.
She pressed a soft kiss to the ring, then slid it back on Aziraphale's finger. She looked him in the eyes as she kissed the back of his hand, "I remember you."
The tears had actually fallen now, hitting his cheeks softly. He didn't try to hide it, and she wouldn't want him to. Perhaps it was this whole eternal blessing thing, but she was drawn to him.
Then she turned to the demon. Crowley. He sat high and mighty in his chair, looking away as though he were intruding on Aziraphale's private moment. He was handsome in a different way than Aziraphale. Where Aziraphale was soft and strong, Crowley was sharp and sweet. She smiled when she looked at him, knowing he was sweet without saying it.
She went to him to, lifting her hand then asking softly, "may I touch you?"
He swallowed, and nodded. She first touched his hair, it was softer then it looked. Her fingertips brushed it so it feel on his forehead, liking the contrast of his skin against the red. Then she traced along his tattoo, the way his cheekbone felt under her touch.
With gentle hands, she cupped his cheeks and turned his face so he had to look her in the eyes. She smiled. "I'd wondered if they were still yellow."
He closed his eyes, cringing. He'd always hated his eyes. "Sorry they're-"
"Beautiful." He opened his eyes quickly. "I remember your eyes. They've been in my dreams and I never knew why. The man with the yellow snake eyes. They are so, so beautiful. Like a sunflower."
"You're comparing s'demon eyes to a sunflower?"
She smiled and nodded, "you have the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen."
Crowley sucked in a breath, closing his eyes. It as though the attention itself would make him implode.
"Keep them closed," she said. Then he felt a pair of soft lips kiss one eyelid, then the other. "Absolutely beautiful. Don't you think so, Aziraphale?"
Crowley was shocked to hear Aziraphale agree. "I adore your eyes, dear. They've been my favorite for a long time."
The three didn't know what to do with themselves, time frozen around them. But however strange the situation, she wasn’t afraid. Not anymore. She wanted to get to know this Angel and demon, understand their pasts and more about their connection.
“Thank you, my dear, for your patience,” Aziraphale said kindly.
“I suppose I should be thanking you, you’ve waited hundreds of years.” She said with a dry laugh that made Crowley smile.
There weren’t any words that seemed to describe the moment the three of them shared, in a moment frozen in time knowing they had all the time in the world. But for now it was enough, and that was all it needed to be.
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eoieopda · 7 months
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[visual content blog recommendations]
we see fic recs all the time, but i don’t think i’ve ever seen rec lists for visual content (gif/art/gfx/etc.) creators! they’ve been dealing with a bunch of shit lately between reposts, tumblr garbage, etc., so i wanna shout-out some favorites. thank you for keeping us fed!!
disclaimer: this is not an exhaustive list!! if you have recommendations of your own, please feel free to expand on this yourself and/or drop some of your faves in the replies for others to see. self-promo is always welcome here, too ✨ p.s. some of these are recent finds for me, so pls expect to see more of them on my blog. eta: i will be adding more as i go!!
[bts]
@yooboobies — réka’s gif sets are *chef’s kiss* and the ART? omg. the talent!!! 😭 we simply have to simp.
@cordiallyfuturedwight — apart from being one of the coolest/funniest people i’ve found on army tumblr, i am a kayla stan because the niche themes for her gif sets (ex. bangtan turtlenecks series) feel like they’re made 👏🏻 for 👏🏻 me 👏🏻 even though they absolutely aren’t, lmao.
@hopeinthebox — the bts as reductress headline + incorrect bangtan series are probably my favorite pieces of content on the entire internet??? also, lizzy is absolutely gd hilarious. tags are 11/10. a blessing upon my dash.
@kimtaegis — i’m not visually artistic enough to say this in a way that makes sense, but annie’s gifs are just… stunning? like, the colors? idk about the process that goes into that, but i imagine it takes a lot of time/finesse to be this vivid.
@kithtaehyung — ryen is the renaissance man of army tumblr, fr. not only can she write (like!!!) but she’s multi-faceted and insanely creative with her graphic design. i want her to tutor me, lmao.
@raplinenthusiasts — [a la yoongi] i don’t know their name (i don’t see it on their blog) but ooohhhhh my god. the coloring of their gifs makes my brain go brrrrtttt. this bts x the office set is on my “always reblog” list; i’ll share it every time i come across it.
@heybaetae — this set in particular is on my “always reblog” list, no matter how many times i’ve done so already. also, idk how to describe this, but kelli’s gifs are just…. crispy 🤌🏻 like, so satisfying with the…. texture? filtering? contrast? i’m an idiot re: editing terms, but go peep them and you’ll know what i’m trying to say.
@kth1 — literally who could ever forget maggie’s 100 days of (member) series??? the amount of work that had to go into that? unfathomable.
@jeurias — i want to wallpaper my house and office with their gfx. i’m deadass.
@jinstronaut — emmeline has been doing her “a jin a day while he’s away” series for OVER 250 DAYS NOW. i have never been nor will i ever be able to commit to anything to this level.
[multi/skz/atz/svt/etc.]
@starryoong — do not get me started on starry’s paintings, sketches, etc. because i will never shut up. ever. j’adore 🫠 is also a five-star human being.
@irlvernon — my queue is probably 80% max gifs at any given time. god-tier, fr. a must-follow for carats, as far as i’m concerned.
@homerunhansol — incredible gifs, lovely human, and also the writer of some of my favorite svt fics??? we stan.
@yujun-s — a one-stop-shop for all your boy band gif needs.
@yelhsaart — i don’t have any words for how much i love their art so please imagine guttural screaming instead. asdfghjkl!!!
@hizuillu — ……breathtaking. legitimately stunning skz art. like…… i have heart palpitations.
@snug-gyu — THE USE OF COLORS. i’m always a simp for pantone-inspired sets; they just scratch an itch in the back of my brain, and BOY HOWDY, is my brain satisfied 😵‍💫
@yunwooz — again, i have no idea what i’m talking about when it comes to the gif-making process, but the colors!!! the COLORS!!! like, taking a mv that’s not super vivid/is fairly greyscale and bringing it to life? ya know????
rev. 8/27/23
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munsonsreputation · 1 year
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FEBRUARY'S BLANKSPACE
FIC RECS
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hi everyone, as the month of february comes to an end, i think it’s only appropriate that i give you a list of works that i’ve been reading and obsessed with this month! it’s even more important that we show love to all the writers out there who forge these unique stories and even allow readers to request their very own smutty, fluffy, and/or angsty ideas that turn into amazing creations because of these talented writers.
please be sure to show these writers some love by interacting with their works: reblogging, leaving comments, and tags. all the love and kindness will mean the world to them!!!!
📌: fave | 🫀: fluff | 🪡: angst | 🕯: smut
STEVE HARRINGTON FICS
Friday by @softharrington 🫀🪡📌
first off, casper is an amazing writer. second, this story literally broke my heart then mended it back together all at once. please please give this a read, so many emotions and it’s soooo well written
Single Thread by @keeryshouse 🫀
i’ve seen a bunch of spiderman!steve ideas and fics floating around tumblr and this has to be one of my favorites. you cannot tell me that steve harrington isn’t spiderman coded as fuck!!! the friends to lovers trope woven with the scared to hurt reader will always always be my guilty pleasure. anna, the amazing writer is also planning on writing some more parts to this so go and check it out!!!
This request by @sattlersquarry 🫀
i am a SUCKER for Hopper!reader, I think it’s so sweet and to think El would have another sibling besides Will and Jonathan her step bros are really cute. Moving on, the little quirks and expressions in this imagine is so so so sweet!!
This request by @stevebabey 🫀📌
holy shit this is so fluffy…I feel like I’m in freshman year experiencing my first kiss all over again. First of all, the comparing hand size trick ALWAYS works. It will never fail. And this amazing fucking piece of work will never make me fail to blush and smile like I have a crush!!!!
Love Letters: Day Five by @upsidedownwithsteve 🫀
one bed trope will always have me in a chokehold. This fic does an amazing job at encapsulating the feeling to the nervousness but also the soften that two people share when they are obviously into each other. and of course, eddie is always a little shit, but i love the appearance that him and all the other characters make here!!!
This request by @newlips 🫀
this one is room-mates to lovers, and as someone who hates storms this is filling my giddy heart with so much warmth and comfort. while i have no one to cuddle with while it’s raining, i’d like to think that steve would totally cuddle me throughout those storming nights!!!
Glue by @gorgeousgetawaycar 🫀📌
steve picking up the snacks for movie night is such a him thing to do. in my head, i’d like to think that after baker!reader and steve start dating a little longer, he’d invite her to movie night OR EVEN BETTER…she invites them over to her place (or steve’s) and the house is filled with the sweet treats she has baking for his friends. eventually they all come to fall in love with her and her baking, and steve falls even harder for her. yeah, this is so sweet, it’s like my personal self insert, and i love it so so much!! everyone who loves baking better go read this and if you don’t like baking just pretend you do!!!!
Lay All Your Love On Me by @lovebugism 🕯📌
HOLY FUCKING SHIT, OH MY WORD, I AM SCREAMING! never in a million years did i think i’d need stancy x reader SMUT, but this….this rocked my fucking world. steve is so in love with reader and nancy, i actually cannot even. everyone better go read this and melt. thanks bug, for writing this fucking absolute masterpiece, ily!!!!!!
Scoops Ahoy by @tiredfangirlsworld 🫀
gosh, imagine if steve never worked at scoops…we would have been deprived of sailor!steve, but nevertheless we prevailed in this little imagine. first off, robin always cracks me the fuck up, her character is so funny without even trying and this writer does a great job at setting the scene of the friendship that reader and her have, along with steve in the mix. i totally agree with reader here, the sailor getup is totally a good look for steve and i wish we could’ve gotten a commercial for s3 promo!!!!
Just The Two Of Us by @imjuststeddietrashatthispoint 🫀 🪡
you would expect it to be extremely smutty and filthy, but this is smutty but soft and kind. i actually really really love this fic as it focused more on reader and steve rather than reader, steve, and the audience watching. they’re giggly and want to know how to pleasure one another, ah-ma-zing read!!!!!!!!
This request by @familyvideostevie 🫀
this is such a simple yet sweet sweet concept. it’s totally something that i think would happen in the stranger things universe. dustin and steve’s dynamic is also written SO well—those two go back and forth and despite his age, steve knows that dustin is a genius. i also feel like steve and reader hit it off and eventually date and dustin would parade around hawkins saying some shit like “yeah you see those two! i made that shit happen!”
This request by @luveline 🫀📌
goddamnit i am an absolute whore for domestic fluff (we need more of it tbh). the way that reader and steve interact and talk about the simplest things while cooking dinner is so fucking relatable. it’s the twinge of domesticity and i feel like all of us crave in a relationship. just someone to talk to while we do the most mundane things, but it’s special because we’re doing it with the one we love. i love this so much, go read it rn!!!!!
Bestfriend!Steve by @sweeteststevie 🫀 🪡
ok wow, this one really touched my heart and steve is such a sweetheart. he doesn’t try to poke and prode, but just lets reader talks and allows her to answer what she feels comfortable. i love this so so so much and the gentleness they share is so fucking sweet!!!!
Reminiscence by @caxde🫀 🪡
oh to go from exs to lovers in a snap, this would be a dream! the fact that reader and steve never stopped loving each other—i also wish for that kind of hope and love in my own life, but i’m not sure i could possibly bear it so through fics it is! i love how steve and reader remember their little “voodoo” thing while she’s patching him up. it’s so cute and another way of saying they never forgot one another!!!!
Valentine’s Day by @hey-barnes-stole-a-jeep 🫀 🪡
their confession made me so soft omg. reader is so relatable and i think we’ve got to shed the light on unexperienced!reader, there is no shame and if anything steve would totally make you feel safe and comfortable!!! he’s so gentle with reader and i would die for this man!!!
Love In The Dark I (ongoing series) by @xspeter 🪡
ahhhhh i love this take on s4 but from mayfield!sister perspective. also the nightmares things are so realistic and it almost feels at through the readers are realizing it is a dream as we read. this is currently an ongoing mini series so be on the look out for the next part! i’m so excited to read part II!!!!
Forever Winter by @new-romqntics 🫀 🪡📌
first of all, i love cleo sm!!! this is one of my comfort fluffs that i revisit time and time again. i think that recognizing self doubt and worries is something that it vulnerable yet beautiful because it can open doors and especially the heart. i love how steve doesn’t try to “fix” reader but just wants to help!!! ilovesoftsteviesm <3
EDDIE MUNSON FICS
Illicit Affairs by @lilacletter 🕯📌
ohmyfuckingod…when i read this, i kid you not…i buried my face into my pillowed and squealed!!!!! first and foremost, autumn is one of the most incredible writers and i have had the pleasure of reading her works. reading her writing is almost like seeing the events take place in my head, her attention to detail and just everything is so incredible. this is smut and you’ll definitely enjoy it #ilovedilfs <3
This request by @lucasnclair 🫀
when i tell you i am shy!reader, i mean that!!! this is totally what it feels like to be so enamored and in love with someone, so much so that you are so shy, but they know just the right way to crack you out of that shell without making you feel embarrassed. i go back to this every time and it’s soooo sweet and gentle!!!!
Cherry Wine by @cinemaquinn 🕯
everyone knows that fluffy smut is always a hit. i love the way this is is written and the fact that there is no shame in being a virgin and the way that eddie just assures reader through everything. i love this so much and it has a very very special place in my heart muah!!!!
This request by @ddejavvu 🫀📌
exterminator!eddie is not a concept i thought i needed in life, but this shit was so cute and funny. also mei/daisy’s authors note in the beginning of the imagine made me giggle so that’s a plus! also eddie just holding the fucking snake and wayne needing to rip it out of his hands made me LOL so hard. i feel like reader and eddie would’ve gotten to know each other better during the ride to the hospital and in the emergency room too. he’d probably offer a date to make up for it and from then on our they’re together and reader is just like, “yeah he might not have gotten all the snakes but he did get my heart.”
Twenty Four Hours (ongoing series) by @ghost-proofbaby 🪡📌
holy shit this slow burn eats me up every single time i read it!!! this is a modern!au and i love the way that is is depicted through the writing: everything from the photo proof and group chat messages are a really good addition to the story!!! i read hour six a few little while ago and OH MY GOD….SO SO SO GOOD!! i don’t want to spoil it so everyone go and read it and let’s enjoy the rest of the series together!!!!
In Bloom by @suncatcherss 🫀 🪡
HOLY FUCK I AM CRYING. this is a mixture of a teeny tiny angst with a whole lotta fluff. the way that reader and eddie are so smitten for each other and do not even get me started on the fact that eddie gifted her the fucking rose!!!! stop!! and then he says “i want to introduce my best girls to each other” …. SOBBING. THIS IS TOO FUCKING SWEET!!!!
All Mine by @hard-candy-writing 🕯
OLDER!EDDIE AHHHHHHHH!!!!! this fic absolutely made me melt…the writing is just incredible and their dynamic works so well. AND THE PIERCING ON HIS **** AND THE WAY HE MAKES HER CALL HER DATE AND BREAKUP WHILE HE …. YEAH, YOU READ THAT RIGHT!!! i don’t want to spoil this smutty goodness, so everyone go and read this rn!!!!!
This request by @mirkwoodmunson 🫀
i always thought eddie would be the goof to scarf down sprinkles of all things because he’s too lazy to fix himself something good…but now that i think about it, that man probably gets HELLA munchies and is a pro and cooking something fast and easy. he can’t stand not having an actual meal and this was so funny and light-hearted!!!!
Devil & Angel AU (steddie x reader) by @thyme-in-a-bubble 🕯📌
GUYS….THIS AU IS SO FUCKING FILTY AND I LOVE IT TO PEICES! ok first of all, i came across this au a few days ago and since they i’ve been HOOKED!!! i believe lea is continuing to add to this AU as she gets more ideas and asks about it, so keep an eye out for more imagines and blurbs regarding this AU!!!
Safe With Me by @singularattitudeofasafetypin 🫀
eddie’s headass defintely drives like a fucking maniac, but OMG he’s so soft for reader. this made me so warm inside and he’s just so sweet. eddie would probably get some shit from the kids because they need to get wherever the fuck they’re going QUICKLY…but i bet you reader gifted eddie one of those keychains that says “drive safe, i need you here,” and he just looks at it and doesn’t give a shit about the kids complaining because he wants to be here for you always. YEAH OK IM A FLUFF WHORE GO READ THIS!!!
The Customer’s Always Right (ongoing series) by @lovebugism 🫀🕯📌
I AM OBSESSSED AND I MEAN OBSESSED WITH THIS SERIES!!!! virgin!eddie is so soft for reader and doesn’t give a fuck about her reputation and i love this so much. i also really really really love how reader is written in a way that shows that she’s always been searching for this REAL DEEP infatuation and love that she had for eddie!! go read this rn because it’s so fucking good, GO GO GO!!!!!
This request by @roanniom 🫀🕯
EDDIE WOULD SO DO SOMETHING LIKE THIS!!!! that men is such an in love menace and him hiding to surprise her is SUCH A HIM THNG TO DO!!! he definitely planned the whole thing out a few days prior and even made sure to call in to get you the day off. this man is romantic his own way!!!
Husband? by @corals-library 🫀
i have this feeling that eddie would die to have you call him your husband!! he would get such a kick out of it and love the way it makes him feel—he would call you his wife all the time, and the kids would call you both mom and dad hahaha!! yeah this is so fluffy and cute and i just know eddie talks to wayne the next day and ask him opinions of rings <3
Three Men And A Baby by @munsonsduchess 🫀📌
GUYS GUYS GUYS, I LOVE THIS!! first off, “rosie posie?!?!” THE NICKNAME EDDIE HAS FOR HIS LITTLE GIRL IS SO ADORABLE. also my guilty pleasure is when writers include other characters within the story…idk i think it’s a nice little treat to see how they interact with each other and whatnot. i love the fact that eddie can just call up hopper for help and even goes to karen!! we need to see more karen y’all!!! <3
Until I Found You by @crrddcffn 🫀📌
fuck this made me so soft…shy!reader needs more attention and i love this so fucking much. i love that reader just goes for it and calls him cute and is kinda shocked by it at first, nevertheless it all works out. they’re so adorable and i would to read more about shy!reader and eddie in the future!!!
Bets, Deals, and Favors (series tba) by @pinkrelish 🪡
I READ THIS A FEW DAYS AGO AND IT HAS ME FOAMING AT THE MOUTH FOR MORE!!!! I don’t want to say TOO much because this is a beauty that speaks and reads for itself, but just know it’s gonna get spicy and i love that harrington plays the mediator hahahaha.
This request by @forourmoons 🫀📌
EDDIE YOU FUCKING CHARMER!!!! i swear to god this man is so head over heels for his girl that he literally does not give a shit about the looks he gets. he knows reader probably hates feeling everyone’s eyes on her and he sees her start to go down and he’s just like “fuck it, here i go!” HE DOESN’T CARE BECAUSE HE’S WITH READER AND HE’D DO ANYTHING FOR HER! fuck this is so fluffy, i need this man!!
happy reading & thank you to all the writers for taking the time to share your creativity with the world, and thank you to the readers for keeping our love for writing alive!!!! 💘💘💘
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willshipanything-blog · 4 months
Text
Breaking the Rules- Chapter 21
Penultimate chapter!! (Besides a couple little epilogue things I have planned). Al has just revealed his plan to confess his crimes- how will y/n ever stop this mad scheme?
Full tags, as well as the fic if you prefer, is on AO3 here. As usual, minors please DNI!
Full Tumblr chapter index can be found here.
Hope you enjoy lovelies! 💜✌️✨
Chapter 21- The Depths
“Take that mask off.” 
The fire in your voice was low and rumbling, a biting warning that you hardly thought yourself capable of. Your initial reaction at his affixing the mask had been terror, but a scorching fury had lit inside you at the audacity of Al to try this, after all this time. You’d had enough of this. 
Of Al attempting this confession, of him even thinking about throwing everything -throwing you- away after all this time. The warning had little effect and Al, wearing the familiar horns and expressionless face, came closer. 
“I’m serious, Al. Take. It. Off.” 
Another step towards you.
Al remained undeterred, his eerie silence reminiscent of nights spent watching silently as you cried yourself to sleep on the mattress. If he was trying to evoke those memories, it was working. Cruel bastard. You slammed your good hand on the table, but as you used the force as leverage to stand, an agony speared through your arm. Al had reached you, had gripped your hand before you could stand. The tight grip had provoked the still-tender muscles in your dislocated finger and you jolted, an electric current tearing through your bloodstream. A sibilant hiss escaped through your teeth at the pain, which had forced you back onto the chair.
“I’ve got to finish this, Y/N. To pay for my crimes.” 
“That wasn’t you. It was-”
“The Grabber?” he asked, a theatrical air of incredulity heavy in his voice. “Not Albert Shaw? They’re one and the same, sweet. You need to stop pretending those are two different people,” he leaned closer, “It’s all me.”
No. You’d seen the change, that almost physical manifestation of the otherness that enveloped Al like a black shroud of fog in the past. In the past, though. He might be using the same mannerisms and voice, but this was all an act. The mask wasn’t some summoning device; it didn’t automatically call on the Grabber to appear like an evocation of some paranormal being. 
“It’s NOT you, Al,” you hoped the repetition of his name might break the mad spell he was trying to hold himself in, the lie he was telling himself to make all of this seem justified. Did it make it easier to betray you like this if he played such a role? 
“Stop kidding yourself. Look who I am-” here, Al nudged open the wooden box with a knuckle, plucking out an item at random (the blue choker necklace) and shaking it wildly in front of you. “Look at what I’ve done! You want me to tell you how I killed each of them? Why not read that note again, huh? Or I could tell you all the details I didn’t put in that confession.”
You’d already looked away by this point, eyes scrunched closed and head shaking, trying to refute Al’s words by purposefully ignoring them. But you knew them to be at least somewhat true- your shameful averting gaze was in part because you had no retort, no justifiable defense for what he was saying. You felt the tears start at the outer corners of your eyes, tumbling down your cheeks before a much rougher sensation met your skin. 
“Look at me!” Al roared, gripping your face between his thumb and forefinger, the course fingertips digging into your cheeks as he forced you to face him. Your eyes stayed closed. His voice again, softer but infinitely more lethal, spoke:
“Look at me, little bird.”
You opened your lids slowly, discerning those still-blue eyes behind the mask. Heavenly, you might have thought that shade, had they not been sitting beneath literal devil horns. Deep blue, with no trace of that hunger or feral rage that signified the Grabber. Al was angry, perhaps at what he thought to be a hopeless situation, but those emotions were Al’s alone. Not the Grabber’s- no matter how much Al pretended to still house that monster within him. 
“Please take off the mask, Al.” It was more desperate and pleading now, spoken through hiccuped breaths, your tears still tracing downward paths down your face. You knew Al’s hardened resolve had already set like cement; unyielding. He didn’t answer you as he released your face from his grasp, finally letting go of your injured hand too. 
You shook the pain away from your hand, looking up at Al, who stood silently over you. He sighed heavily and rolled his shoulders, as if sloughing off the last remnants of himself. His eyes closed behind the mask, and as he opened them, he spoke. The voice was barely an imitation anymore, any attempts at theatricality and grandeur erased by the hoarseness, that clear distress of his words. 
“You gonna be my good girl one last time?”
You had no time to react before he pounced. 
Quick hands had grabbed and lifted you from your seat before implausibly strong arms wrapped around your body. You’d been so numbed, paralyzed by his cutting words about that fragile dichotomy between Al and the Grabber, that his sudden lunge towards you had blindsided you. 
“Let me GO!” You roared, your legs kicking wildly in front of you, your arms squashed too tightly under his grip to help you wriggle free.
“I- am letting- you go,” Al huffed from behind the mask, his winded breath the only sign of a struggle; his strength seemingly carrying you with ease across the kitchen, towards the wooden door waiting for you in the corner of the room. Once there, his arm had to reach out to twist the doorknob, yet with just one arm around your torso you were hopelessly outmatched. You pried an arm free, desperately clawing behind you, as if the possibility of ripping off that demonic mask might snap Al out of this madness. Your frantic mauling only served to bend your injured finger out of place once more, tearing a howl from you. With the wooden door open, Al’s free hand moved to muffle your groans. 
All too much. The pain shooting through your arm, the tight grip around your body, the suffocating hand stifling your shouts, the dizzying ordeal of being carried back towards that prison you’d spent too long in. And the worst part of all of it: that Al had planned this, wanted- thought he needed this to happen.
It wasn’t the sick perversion of actually wanting a victim in the basement, carrying down your unconscious body like he had done nearly a year ago. It wasn’t the heated passion like he’d shown just a couple of nights ago, where he’d nearly dragged you down those stairs in a sudden burst of fury. This was an entirely different purpose. A kindness, in Al’s eyes- to keep you there one last time, to present you as the Grabber’s unwilling cohabitant. A short stint in those depths, to save you from a lifetime of being with him. 
You felt your body still, felt the damp air, and realization hit. The realization that Al had already kicked open the metal door at the bottom of the stairwell. The realization that you were already in the basement. The physical pain of your injury, along with the growing hopelessness of the situation, meant that you’d not fought hard enough to stop this insanity. Another sickly sensation as you felt your body teetering, discerning that Al was leaning forward, dropping you to the floor, his weight on your back pinning you to the cold stone. Hands retracted, but the weight holding you to the floor only allowed a thin rasp of a breath to plead with Al. You’d always used your words before, unable to match the bestial strength on full display now, so you choked out your plea.
“Al, don’t. Please-”
“Enough.” 
The coldness of that voice from behind was a steel blade in your back. He wrestled your hands behind you, though the pain of your twisted finger paled in comparison to the agonizing realization of what was happening. With both your wrists clasped in one of Al’s, you heard a fumbling and then a staccato rip of duct tape. The noise was enough to spur your body into a fresh convulsion beneath Al. The sudden struggle seemed to catch him off-guard, and he had to pacify you with a forceful grip on the nape of your neck, pushing your cheek into the cold floor. Still reeling, your ragged breaths unable to scream but your last bit of strength still pushing against him, and Al loosened his grip on your neck, only to push down even harder a second later. Your head collided with the floor, a dull thunk followed by a high-pitched buzzing in your ears. It was just hard enough to daze you, and when the buzzsaw in your brain came to a halt, Al had already tied your hands behind your back. 
A more intimate sensation now, as Al held your bounds hands lightly. If it seemed a kind gesture, that fallacy was erased a moment later as he pulled at the ring on your finger. His ring, the gold band he’d given as a promise, was pried from you. Your finger felt suddenly cold, exposed. He’d gifted you the ring as a promise to keep you safe. But what good was that when Al saw himself as the danger? What good was any of it when you were drawn to that danger like a moth to a lethal flame? 
“No more of my broken promises.” In saying that, Al couldn’t see the cruel contradiction that leaving you would be the biggest betrayal of all. Still, if he cared about promises at all, didn’t that show that he was still Al beneath that mask? Maybe there was time to stop this ill-conceived scheme. 
Your body jolted again, this time with a pressure on your arms as Al grabbed them, heaving you across the room. Your bare legs scraped against the grimy floor as you were jostled before Al tossed you onto the mattress a few feet from the floor where he’d wrestled you. The familiar feeling of the damp, worn bed as Al threw you down was a sickening déjà vu. Instinct had you scrabbling back towards the wall, feet slipping on the dirty fabric until your head and hands hit stone behind you. A scene you’d seen dozens of times lay before you- Al standing there, fully masked, looking down at your weak, helpless body on the mattress. Somehow, knowing Al’s intention to give himself in, knowing you’d soon be without him, made this more terrifying than any of the earlier encounters. With the spool of tape still in one hand, Al retrieved something from his back pocket with his other, pulling out his small switchblade. Your pleas, desperate wriggling and heavy tears weren’t enough to stop his advance, and he strode over the mattress, dropping down with his knees astride your thighs, eye level with you. 
“He’s not there, Al. You’re just pretending. Don’t act like the monster we both know is dead.” you croaked.
Blue eyes in the mask’s shadow looked back at you silently. The slight tilt of Al’s head had you wondering whether Al was still embodying those impish mannerisms, or whether he was really considering your statement. 
“It’s who I need to be right now, dove.” His admittance that it was an act was little comfort when his refusal to give up that role was so evident, and you crumpled as he said those words. Perhaps he wanted to console you with a soft touch, but his resolve won out, and he got to work quickly as you cried to an unresponsive audience of one. 
Some of the work was already complete: your bruises from Naughty Girl, taken willingly, would tell a different tale than your twisted game. The handprints still red and visible on your buttocks would be unexplainable as anything other than abuse to those outside of this room. The dirt and grime from your writhing on the basement floor was an extra little touch, more evidence of mistreatment. But Al had other lies to tell, and worked quickly to write the false tale. Your shirt first, Al tearing it at the collar, creating rips with his small blade. When he was done, there was more skin exposed than covered by the remnants of the cotton material. Your underwear next, which he whipped down your legs, discarding to the side. That image would leave no doubt for whoever found you, deducing what vile acts the Grabber inflicted upon you in this room. Hell, you even had his seed inside you from this morning. Who would believe that such an act was consensual, given the state of you now? 
He seemed to think twice about his next move, before slow hands approached with the switchblade. You held your breath as Al drew near, the indecisive knife hovering over your neck, then chest, before Al chose the spots carefully. A couple of skillful nicks on your upper arms and thighs shocked more than hurt, the shallow cuts bursting with small patches of fresh red on your skin. A few fresher wounds that the Grabber had inflicted, giving more credulity to the fabrication that you were still a captive. The cuts barely even hurt. Not compared to everything else.
“Go deeper,” you sobbed as Al made a small incision above your knee, stopping when he heard your words. “If you’re really doing this, I’d rather be dead. Cut deeper.”
“No more killing,” Al said, folding down his knife and retreating it back to his pocket. “You’ll appreciate this one day, dove. You’ll see it was the one good thing I ever did to you.” 
No retort you might muster would be enough to sway him, your mind too jumbled and shocked to form any sort of coherent argument. Your stomach lurched at the inescapable truth; that Al’s confession was coming to fruition, that he was about to lock you down here, and end it all. 
“Shit-” Al had risen, looking towards the metal door before turning to you again. “Sorry dove- I broke the door lock. Can’t have you going anywhere until they find you.” In an instant he was on you, another stretch of duct tape unwinding with a cracking rip before he quickly wound a length of it tightly around your ankles. 
“Al!” you pleaded as he secured your legs, running out of energy, out of ideas. “I won’t be able to stand it, seeing you go to jail. Everything that will follow-”
“You might not see me do any of that,” he explained as you gave a pained, confused look, “If I put up enough of a fight, if I’m a big enough threat, they might just shoot on sight.”
That dizziness returned without a fresh bump to your head, the idea of not just being away from Al, but him not existing at all…. It felt like you had no more cards to play. What else was there to say to persuade him apart from your true feelings?
“Al, don’t do this. I love-” a swift shadow lunged at you. Al’s hands moved to silence the tail end of your admission, one over your mouth and the other cupping the back of your head. He knew the pain of those words, what pain it would cause for him to hear those three words on your lips one final time. 
“NO!” he cried, bringing the masked face close to your own. “You think you love me. After this, you’ll realize you hated me all this time. Then you’ll forget me, and that will be the happy ending you deserve. You don’t need me for your happy ending.” You stilled beneath him, even as the tears dripped over his fingers that covered your mouth. It really was over. 
Through your tear-soaked lashes, you looked up at Al and nodded, showing him you were pacified, and he moved his hand in understanding. 
“If you’re going to say goodbye, do it as Al. Don’t let my last memory of you be of this- this thing that I don’t see you as.”
Al tore the mask away from his face, obeying your final request. His eyes matched yours in their tearful state. 
“Thank you, dove. For not seeing me as the monster.” And then he rushed at you. His lips crashed against yours, harsh and desperate and so full of love and loss. You returned the kiss, straining against your bonds to try and hold him there forever if it meant never leaving. But after a moment, he tore himself away and you released a keening wail. A quick rip of tape and Al covered your mouth, muffling your cries beneath the gag.
He kissed your temple before rising, walking briskly towards the door as if scared he might change his mind about the whole confession. You moaned desperately through the tape as he retreated. One last, lingering look and a final goodbye. 
“I’m sorry, dove. I love you.” 
And with that, the metal door closed. 
If the closing of that metal door felt like a death sentence, it was the least he deserved, Al thought as it shut with a dull clang. But she deserved so much more, so much better. Even from behind the door, he heard the muffled screams of his love. It broke him to know how much she was suffering, even if she’d been through worse at his hands in the past. But the quicker he worked, the sooner she’d be free from her restraints and from the basement. From him, too. 
He strode briskly through the house to the bedroom first. The first scene to set up. From the bedside drawer, he pulled out the handcuffs he’d been chained in just yesterday. One bracelet he looped through a headboard slat, the other left open on the rumpled sheets. The very picture of an unwilling bed partner. From the box in the closet he pulled out a few more things he scattered on the bed; some lengths of rope and some toys they’d played with during the game. Along with some risque underwear he’d bought her as a suggestive gift (also thrown on the bed), it painted a sordid, disgusting picture of the things he’d subjected this innocent girl to over months and months of captivity. Al could already picture the scandalous headlines he’d probably never live to read. 
In the kitchen, Al placed the duct tape and knife from his pockets on the table with the mask he’d thrown on there minutes earlier. The confession, the wooden box and the alternate faces of the mask still sat, waiting to become evidence once Al finally did what was needed. He removed the pink-jeweled ring from his pinky finger- her ring, which he’d taken early in her captivity. First, as a cruel taunt that no one was coming to save her. Then later, as a promise that he’d be the savior she needed. What a hollow promise that turned out to be. Al put the pink morganite ring in the box with the other trophies, the silver band hitting the base of the box with a sad clatter. He put his own gold band inside too, not wanting to mar the ring his little bird had worn for so many months. That ring was an empty promise too, a past relic now. Al didn’t deserve to wear such a thing. It joined the other ring before Al closed the box. 
He collected the photographs of him and his dove from the kitchen fridge and the frames in the living room- a few snapshots that he’d need to dispose of. Over the sink, he held a match to the small polaroid of her and him in an intimate, comfortable lover’s embrace, watching the edges blacken and disintegrate. Wisps of the photo fell into the sink, followed by tears as he watched it burn slowly. 
As the orange flame began to eat away at his image on the polaroid film, Al thought about what was coming, and how he deserved every punishment. But to have gotten her so deep in this web, to give her hope of a future after he took her old life away, only to throw her back into the unknown, was just as callous an act as kidnapping her the first day he set eyes on her. Still, he hoped that one day, she would move on. She might mourn him a little, but in the end they’d be wasted tears. 
The fire had all but erased Al in the image, moving to devour his dove next. It was his greatest magic trick he’d ever performed, Al thought. Though truly, more hypnosis than real magic. What was more incredible- that she’d fallen for him in the first place, or that he was pathetic enough to believe it could last?
The last scraps had burned out, and he scrubbed the sink of any sooty remains to finish his task. Al went to the white phone in the living room, picking it up and carrying it with him to his armchair, the corded wire taut, but just long enough for him to use the phone from his chair. One hand lifted the receiver to his ear, whilst the other hand reached towards the rotary dial.
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autistichalsin · 14 days
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Hello!! :D
Just popping in to say ILYSM (in that strange, mutuals on the internet sorta way) and that you have lots of fans who love your Halsin-posting. Your post notifications always brighten my day. ❤️
Idk why in the world you’ve got people investing their finite existence on this good Earth giving you grief. Some of your stuff might not be everyone’s cup of tea (pleasing everyone is an impossibility, after all), but it doesn’t even come close to the kinds of things my favourite hardcore/“problematic” (<= self-described, including the quotations, lmao!) Halsin/bg3 writers and artists post. And I don’t see anyone clutching their pearls in their comment sections.
Like, when I click on the profile of one of my favourite writers (which includes you! 🥰 But not this example, I love all your stuff!) and see that they’ve posted a story with a description like: “hardcore kinky stuff that you’re not into, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat”, I simply keep scrolling and maybe pick one of the hundreds to thousands of other bg3 stories I could choose from. But maybe that’s just me. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
(Ao3 has tag filtering, you guys, it’s amazing. Remember the fucking Dark Ages when Ao3 didn’t have that at all? How tf did we ever live like that? That’s the kind of shit you say Thanks for at family Thanksgiving. And don’t tell you guys haven’t figured out at least one of the dozens of ways to filter stuff out on godsdamn Tumblr of all places; we’ve been tweaking the etiquette of that for years!)
How utterly irrational it is for these people to look at such an openly Queer and Kinky video game — the likes of which I’ve never seen in the mainstream before (He-llo strategically advantageous BDSM scene! 🤤) — and decide that they’re going to go around policing how people iterate upon those pre-established themes. How did this fandom attract puritans of all people? [Insert “The Myth of ‘Consensual’ Sex” meme here.]
Any-hoosies, all this to say that your haters are a weird, vocal minority that are letting you live rent free in their heads, instead of doing something meaningful or joyful with their pathetic, puritanical existences. There are way more people who love the kind of meta and fics that you post.
Have a good day!! XOXO 🥰😘💋💖💛🫶🤙
Hello! Thank you so much- that means a lot to me. It's weird to think of myself having "fans" lol! Like you're not the first person to use that word but it's just. Such a weird (in a good way) concept for me???? Like!?!?!? But I'm so glad to hear you love my posts <3
Yeah, pleasing everyone is impossible, and it's weird that of all things, my extremely mild CNC kink fic has become the antis' boogeyman. Fam there is literal necrophilia kink in this fandom! (Not saying they deserve to be harassed either, of course, no one should be!) But the fic that has become the pinnacle of what's problematic in this fandom is a survivor writing about a fictional survivor using kink to reclaim their sexuality? Like. OK Jan
See, but that's the difference, you're a grown adult who takes responsibility for curating your experience, whereas others.... either don't, or they don't read it but act like the fic EXISTING is a problem. I guess some people are in for a rude awakening when they discover who the Marquis de Sade is......
God, remember BEFORE AO3? Remember FFN when half the time, the PAIRING wasn't even properly tagged bc you could only tag two characters at all, so people would by default just tag the most popular characters to appear in the story? And instead of tags, you had genres, so you had to decide if you wanted romance/hurt/comfort or friendship/tragedy or what? (I'm a certified Fandom Old- on my old account I was in the first 10,000 users on AO3).
Yeah, people really are missing the point of this game- and it's no coincidence most of these folks are younger. (And a lot are exclus too; I've seen them get angry at the BG3 characters being canonically pan, saying that "pansexuality is a made-up Tumblr sexuality). So... totally blind to the interwoven history of queerness and kink. Not surprising.
Thank you so much for this kind message, anon, you cheered me up a lot. <3 I hope you have a great day!
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redfish-blu · 1 year
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An Open Letter to the Danger Days Tumblr Community:
Now that you’ve read that overdramatic title and are wondering who fucked up, I have something to say about the Danger Days Tumblr community: I Love You.
Danger Days was the first fandom I ever posted for on any site. All the way back in middle school (ho-ly shit). And let me tell you what I found out even way back when: this is not an easy fandom to be in.
For one, most people don’t even know it exists. For two, even less know it in the way it’s been cultivated on Tumblr. Almost every single person has such a niche interpretation of every little detail, that it’s impossible to draw a line through any two versions of the story. Which is a fact I personally love, but I also think it scares a lot of people away. You have to work to be in this fandom. Both as a passive and active fan. It requires patience and tolerance for disappointment.
But that’s exactly why I want to encourage everyone who creates and everyone who listens to Keep Doing That. Like I cannot stress this enough, that is what keeps this fandom and IP alive. Danger Days as a universe would be absolutely nothing without fan work (re: the California Comics), especially a decade later. Without fans who care about this story way more than it has warranted us to care, it would be six feet under. And sometimes I really think that’s what it deserves (and maybe the writers think that as well), but for the life of me I just can’t let that happen. I’ve tried to let this fucking thing go, believe me.
And funny enough, that exact feeling is evidenced by the community on this site too. Which has changed faces almost completely from what it was three years ago for better and less better in some cases. And it’s something I still struggle with adjusting to, but I look at the tag daily. I look everyone’s posts and blogs and art and effort. If you have posted even once in the dd tag my eyes have 100% seen it. So even if I still feel a little out of place, like a ghost of fandom’s past, at least I know everybody. And I know people feel the same way: No rest for the wicked.
When I reanimated from my fandom coma I was fully expecting to find that the community had gone extinct. Partially because all the blogs I used to frequent had straight up died in the three years I was gone. But I pulled up to the gates of the Danger Days tag like Rick Grimes outside of Alexandria, fully expecting to be devastated, only to find New People tilling the fucking field. And it didn’t matter that I now had no idea who any of you people were, it was The Most welcoming thing ever.
I’ll be the first to tell you this fandom bares almost no resemblance to the one I left, and I’m not going to lie and say it’s better now, but the foundation didn’t get blown away in the storm. That’s what I find uniquely profound. That everyone here still wants to try. And that makes me really want to try. And I’m sure everyone would agree that there is often little reward for the effort; but that’s precisely my point in saying all this shit. That even despite the not fun aspects, we all still clock in; and there’s a new post, headcanon, drawing, or fic every freaking day. It’s commendable, really.
If you’re lurking, or post sometimes but feel afraid to actually take a leap here because (the fandom is comparatively tiny to the greater MCR fandom) you’ll be way more out there, and the already established figureheads of the fandom will definitely see your stuff: post post post. This is my formal endorsement to Just Post That Shit. And Interact With That Shit. I spent a year gathering the courage to publish the tiniest thing while behind the scenes I literally wrote about 60+ works. You have to respect your own creativity and trust that other people will give it the time of day.
So do not feel crazy or discouraged about your ideas here! Like we literally need them to function, I would not be here if it wasn’t for all the people three years ago who just posted all their thoughts about Danger Days. About everything. Obscure or not. It’s truly a gift that this fandom has attracted people who are willing to work their brains because the original creators let it fall flat. I cannot tell you how much being in this fandom has actually helped me out in my writing and analysis skills.
So yeah. I fucking love this fandom, I love being in it and I love seeing that people are still stoking the flames. I wanted to say all this crap because I knew I’d be able to articulate it for the people who can relate but don’t want to be the first to say it. Which is okay, understandable. As I said earlier this fandom is like yelling your thoughts out into a very echoey room that only has a few people in it. So I’ll shout first and maybe it’ll make other people more comfortable to shout back.
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snickerdoodlles · 8 months
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Generative AI for Dummies
(kinda. sorta? we're talking about one type and hand-waving some specifics because this is a tumblr post but shh it's fine.)
So there’s a lot of misinformation going around on what generative AI is doing and how it works. I’d seen some of this in some fandom stuff, semi-jokingly snarked that I was going to make a post on how this stuff actually works, and then some people went “o shit, for real?”
So we’re doing this!
This post is meant to just be a very basic breakdown for anyone who has no background in AI or machine learning. I did my best to simplify things and give good analogies for the stuff that’s a little more complicated, but feel free to let me know if there’s anything that needs further clarification. Also a quick disclaimer: as this was specifically inspired by some misconceptions I’d seen in regards to fandom and fanfic, this post focuses on text-based generative AI.
This post is a little long. Since it sucks to read long stuff on tumblr, I’ve broken this post up into four sections to put in new reblogs under readmores to try to make it a little more manageable. Sections 1-3 are the ‘how it works’ breakdowns (and ~4.5k words total). The final 3 sections are mostly to address some specific misconceptions that I’ve seen going around and are roughly ~1k each.
Section Breakdown: 1. Explaining tokens 2. Large Language Models 3. LLM Interfaces 4. AO3 and Generative AI [here] 5. Fic and ChatGPT [here] 6. Some Closing Notes [here] [post tag]
First, to explain some terms in this:
“Generative AI” is a category of AI that refers to the type of machine learning that can produce strings of text, images, etc. Text-based generative AI is powered by large language models called LLM for short.
(*Generative AI for other media sometimes use a LLM modified for a specific media, some use different model types like diffusion models -- anyways, this is why I emphasized I’m talking about text-based generative AI in this post. Some of this post still applies to those, but I’m not covering what nor their specifics here.)
“Neural networks” (NN) are the artificial ‘brains’ of AI. For a simplified overview of NNs, they hold layers of neurons and each neuron has a numerical value associated with it called a bias. The connection channels between each neuron are called weights. Each neuron takes the sum of the input weights, adds its bias value, and passes this sum through an activation function to produce an output value, which is then passed on to the next layer of neurons as a new input for them, and that process repeats until it reaches the final layer and produces an output response.
“Parameters” is a…broad and slightly vague term. Parameters refer to both the biases and weights of a neural network. But they also encapsulate the relationships between them, not just the literal structure of a NN. I don’t know how to explain this further without explaining more about how NN’s are trained, but that’s not really important for our purposes? All you need to know here is that parameters determine the behavior of a model, and the size of a LLM is described by how many parameters it has.
There’s 3 different types of learning neural networks do: “unsupervised” which is when the NN learns from unlabeled data, “supervised” is when all the data has been labeled and categorized as input-output pairs (ie the data input has a specific output associated with it, and the goal is for the NN to pick up those specific patterns), and “semi-supervised” (or “weak supervision”) combines a small set of labeled data with a large set of unlabeled data.
For this post, an “interaction” with a LLM refers to when a LLM is given an input query/prompt and the LLM returns an output response. A new interaction begins when a LLM is given a new input query.
Tokens
Tokens are the ‘language’ of LLMs. How exactly tokens are created/broken down and classified during the tokenization process doesn’t really matter here. Very broadly, tokens represent words, but note that it’s not a 1-to-1 thing -- tokens can represent anything from a fraction of a word to an entire phrase, it depends on the context of how the token was created. Tokens also represent specific characters, punctuation, etc.
“Token limitation” refers to the maximum number of tokens a LLM can process in one interaction. I’ll explain more on this later, but note that this limitation includes the number of tokens in the input prompt and output response. How many tokens a LLM can process in one interaction depends on the model, but there’s two big things that determine this limit: computation processing requirements (1) and error propagation (2). Both of which sound kinda scary, but it’s pretty simple actually:
(1) This is the amount of tokens a LLM can produce/process versus the amount of computer power it takes to generate/process them. The relationship is a quadratic function and for those of you who don’t like math, think of it this way:
Let’s say it costs a penny to generate the first 500 tokens. But it then costs 2 pennies to generate the next 500 tokens. And 4 pennies to generate the next 500 tokens after that. I’m making up values for this, but you can see how it’s costing more money to create the same amount of successive tokens (or alternatively, that each succeeding penny buys you fewer and fewer tokens). Eventually the amount of money it costs to produce the next token is too costly -- so any interactions that go over the token limitation will result in a non-responsive LLM. The processing power available and its related cost also vary between models and what sort of hardware they have available.
(2) Each generated token also comes with an error value. This is a very small value per individual token, but it accumulates over the course of the response.
What that means is: the first token produced has an associated error value. This error value is factored into the generation of the second token (note that it’s still very small at this time and doesn’t affect the second token much). However, this error value for the first token then also carries over and combines with the second token’s error value, which affects the generation of the third token and again carries over to and merges with the third token’s error value, and so forth. This combined error value eventually grows too high and the LLM can’t accurately produce the next token.
I’m kinda breezing through this explanation because how the math for non-linear error propagation exactly works doesn’t really matter for our purposes. The main takeaway from this is that there is a point at which a LLM’s response gets too long and it begins to break down. (This breakdown can look like the LLM producing something that sounds really weird/odd/stale, or just straight up producing gibberish.)
Large Language Models (LLMs)
LLMs are computerized language models. They generate responses by assessing the given input prompt and then spitting out the first token. Then based on the prompt and that first token, it determines the next token. Based on the prompt and first token, second token, and their combination, it makes the third token. And so forth. They just write an output response one token at a time. Some examples of LLMs include the GPT series from OpenAI, LLaMA from Meta, and PaLM 2 from Google.
So, a few things about LLMs:
These things are really, really, really big. The bigger they are, the more they can do. The GPT series are some of the big boys amongst these (GPT-3 is 175 billion parameters; GPT-4 actually isn’t listed, but it’s at least 500 billion parameters, possibly 1 trillion). LLaMA is 65 billion parameters. There are several smaller ones in the range of like, 15-20 billion parameters and a small handful of even smaller ones (these are usually either older/early stage LLMs or LLMs trained for more personalized/individual project things, LLMs just start getting limited in application at that size). There are more LLMs of varying sizes (you can find the list on Wikipedia), but those give an example of the size distribution when it comes to these things.
However, the number of parameters is not the only thing that distinguishes the quality of a LLM. The size of its training data also matters. GPT-3 was trained on 300 billion tokens. LLaMA was trained on 1.4 trillion tokens. So even though LLaMA has less than half the number of parameters GPT-3 has, it’s still considered to be a superior model compared to GPT-3 due to the size of its training data.
So this brings me to LLM training, which has 4 stages to it. The first stage is pre-training and this is where almost all of the computational work happens (it’s like, 99% percent of the training process). It is the most expensive stage of training, usually a few million dollars, and requires the most power. This is the stage where the LLM is trained on a lot of raw internet data (low quality, large quantity data). This data isn’t sorted or labeled in any way, it’s just tokenized and divided up into batches (called epochs) to run through the LLM (note: this is unsupervised learning).
How exactly the pre-training works doesn’t really matter for this post? The key points to take away here are: it takes a lot of hardware, a lot of time, a lot of money, and a lot of data. So it’s pretty common for companies like OpenAI to train these LLMs and then license out their services to people to fine-tune them for their own AI applications (more on this in the next section). Also, LLMs don’t actually “know” anything in general, but at this stage in particular, they are really just trying to mimic human language (or rather what they were trained to recognize as human language).
To help illustrate what this base LLM ‘intelligence’ looks like, there’s a thought exercise called the octopus test. In this scenario, two people (A & B) live alone on deserted islands, but can communicate with each other via text messages using a trans-oceanic cable. A hyper-intelligent octopus listens in on their conversations and after it learns A & B’s conversation patterns, it decides observation isn’t enough and cuts the line so that it can talk to A itself by impersonating B. So the thought exercise is this: At what level of conversation does A realize they’re not actually talking to B?
In theory, if A and the octopus stay in casual conversation (ie “Hi, how are you?” “Doing good! Ate some coconuts and stared at some waves, how about you?” “Nothing so exciting, but I’m about to go find some nuts.” “Sounds nice, have a good day!” “You too, talk to you tomorrow!”), there’s no reason for A to ever suspect or realize that they’re not actually talking to B because the octopus can mimic conversation perfectly and there’s no further evidence to cause suspicion.
However, what if A asks B what the weather is like on B’s island because A’s trying to determine if they should forage food today or save it for tomorrow? The octopus has zero understanding of what weather is because its never experienced it before. The octopus can only make guesses on how B might respond because it has no understanding of the context. It’s not clear yet if A would notice that they’re no longer talking to B -- maybe the octopus guesses correctly and A has no reason to believe they aren’t talking to B. Or maybe the octopus guessed wrong, but its guess wasn’t so wrong that A doesn’t reason that maybe B just doesn’t understand meteorology. Or maybe the octopus’s guess was so wrong that there was no way for A not to realize they’re no longer talking to B.
Another proposed scenario is that A’s found some delicious coconuts on their island and decide they want to share some with B, so A decides to build a catapult to send some coconuts to B. But when A tries to share their plans with B and ask for B’s opinions, the octopus can’t respond. This is a knowledge-intensive task -- even if the octopus understood what a catapult was, it’s also missing knowledge of B’s island and suggestions on things like where to aim. The octopus can avoid A’s questions or respond with total nonsense, but in either scenario, A realizes that they are no longer talking to B because the octopus doesn’t understand enough to simulate B’s response.
There are other scenarios in this thought exercise, but those cover three bases for LLM ‘intelligence’ pretty well: they can mimic general writing patterns pretty well, they can kind of handle very basic knowledge tasks, and they are very bad at knowledge-intensive tasks.
Now, as a note, the octopus test is not intended to be a measure of how the octopus fools A or any measure of ‘intelligence’ in the octopus, but rather show what the “octopus” (the LLM) might be missing in its inputs to provide good responses. Which brings us to the final 1% of training, the fine-tuning stages;
LLM Interfaces
As mentioned previously, LLMs only mimic language and have some key issues that need to be addressed:
LLM base models don’t like to answer questions nor do it well.
LLMs have token limitations. There’s a limit to how much input they can take in vs how long of a response they can return.
LLMs have no memory. They cannot retain the context or history of a conversation on their own.
LLMs are very bad at knowledge-intensive tasks. They need extra context and input to manage these.
However, there’s a limit to how much you can train a LLM. The specifics behind this don’t really matter so uh… *handwaves* very generally, it’s a matter of diminishing returns. You can get close to the end goal but you can never actually reach it, and you hit a point where you’re putting in a lot of work for little to no change. There’s also some other issues that pop up with too much training, but we don’t need to get into those.
You can still further refine models from the pre-training stage to overcome these inherent issues in LLM base models -- Vicuna-13b is an example of this (I think? Pretty sure? Someone fact check me on this lol).
(Vicuna-13b, side-note, is an open source chatbot model that was fine-tuned from the LLaMA model using conversation data from ShareGPT. It was developed by LMSYS, a research group founded by students and professors from UC Berkeley, UCSD, and CMU. Because so much information about how models are trained and developed is closed-source, hidden, or otherwise obscured, they research LLMs and develop their models specifically to release that research for the benefit of public knowledge, learning, and understanding.)
Back to my point, you can still refine and fine-tune LLM base models directly. However, by about the time GPT-2 was released, people had realized that the base models really like to complete documents and that they’re already really good at this even without further fine-tuning. So long as they gave the model a prompt that was formatted as a ‘document’ with enough background information alongside the desired input question, the model would answer the question by ‘finishing’ the document. This opened up an entire new branch in LLM development where instead of trying to coach the LLMs into performing tasks that weren’t native to their capabilities, they focused on ways to deliver information to the models in a way that took advantage of what they were already good at.
This is where LLM interfaces come in.
LLM interfaces (which I sometimes just refer to as “AI” or “AI interface” below; I’ve also seen people refer to these as “assistants”) are developed and fine-tuned for specific applications to act as a bridge between a user and a LLM and transform any query from the user into a viable input prompt for the LLM. Examples of these would be OpenAI’s ChatGPT and Google’s Bard. One of the key benefits to developing an AI interface is their adaptability, as rather than needing to restart the fine-tuning process for a LLM with every base update, an AI interface fine-tuned for one LLM engine can be refitted to an updated version or even a new LLM engine with minimal to no additional work. Take ChatGPT as an example -- when GPT-4 was released, OpenAI didn’t have to train or develop a new chat bot model fine-tuned specifically from GPT-4. They just ‘plugged in’ the already fine-tuned ChatGPT interface to the new GPT model. Even now, ChatGPT can submit prompts to either the GPT-3.5 or GPT-4 LLM engines depending on the user’s payment plan, rather than being two separate chat bots.
As I mentioned previously, LLMs have some inherent problems such as token limitations, no memory, and the inability to handle knowledge-intensive tasks. However, an input prompt that includes conversation history, extra context relevant to the user’s query, and instructions on how to deliver the response will result in a good quality response from the base LLM model. This is what I mean when I say an interface transforms a user’s query into a viable prompt -- rather than the user having to come up with all this extra info and formatting it into a proper document for the LLM to complete, the AI interface handles those responsibilities.
How exactly these interfaces do that varies from application to application. It really depends on what type of task the developers are trying to fine-tune the application for. There’s also a host of APIs that can be incorporated into these interfaces to customize user experience (such as APIs that identify inappropriate content and kill a user’s query, to APIs that allow users to speak a command or upload image prompts, stuff like that). However, some tasks are pretty consistent across each application, so let’s talk about a few of those:
Token management
As I said earlier, each LLM has a token limit per interaction and this token limitation includes both the input query and the output response.
The input prompt an interface delivers to a LLM can include a lot of things: the user’s query (obviously), but also extra information relevant to the query, conversation history, instructions on how to deliver its response (such as the tone, style, or ‘persona’ of the response), etc. How much extra information the interface pulls to include in the input prompt depends on the desired length of an output response and what sort of information pulled for the input prompt is prioritized by the application varies depending on what task it was developed for. (For example, a chatbot application would likely allocate more tokens to conversation history and output response length as compared to a program like Sudowrite* which probably prioritizes additional (context) content from the document over previous suggestions and the lengths of the output responses are much more restrained.)
(*Sudowrite is…kind of weird in how they list their program information. I’m 97% sure it’s a writer assistant interface that keys into the GPT series, but uhh…I might be wrong? Please don’t hold it against me if I am lol.)
Anyways, how the interface allocates tokens is generally determined by trial-and-error depending on what sort of end application the developer is aiming for and the token limit(s) their LLM engine(s) have.
tl;dr -- all LLMs have interaction token limits, the AI manages them so the user doesn’t have to.
Simulating short-term memory
LLMs have no memory. As far as they figure, every new query is a brand new start. So if you want to build on previous prompts and responses, you have to deliver the previous conversation to the LLM along with your new prompt.
AI interfaces do this for you by managing what’s called a ‘context window’. A context window is the amount of previous conversation history it saves and passes on to the LLM with a new query. How long a context window is and how it’s managed varies from application to application. Different token limits between different LLMs is the biggest restriction for how many tokens an AI can allocate to the context window. The most basic way of managing a context window is discarding context over the token limit on a first in, first out basis. However, some applications also have ways of stripping out extraneous parts of the context window to condense the conversation history, which lets them simulate a longer context window even if the amount of allocated tokens hasn’t changed.
Augmented context retrieval
Remember how I said earlier that LLMs are really bad at knowledge-intensive tasks? Augmented context retrieval is how people “inject knowledge” into LLMs.
Very basically, the user submits a query to the AI. The AI identifies keywords in that query, then runs those keywords through a secondary knowledge corpus and pulls up additional information relevant to those keywords, then delivers that information along with the user’s query as an input prompt to the LLM. The LLM can then process this extra info with the prompt and deliver a more useful/reliable response.
Also, very importantly: “knowledge-intensive” does not refer to higher level or complex thinking. Knowledge-intensive refers to something that requires a lot of background knowledge or context. Here’s an analogy for how LLMs handle knowledge-intensive tasks:
A friend tells you about a book you haven’t read, then you try to write a synopsis of it based on just what your friend told you about that book (see: every high school literature class). You’re most likely going to struggle to write that summary based solely on what your friend told you, because you don’t actually know what the book is about.
This is an example of a knowledge intensive task: to write a good summary on a book, you need to have actually read the book. In this analogy, augmented context retrieval would be the equivalent of you reading a few book reports and the wikipedia page for the book before writing the summary -- you still don’t know the book, but you have some good sources to reference to help you write a summary for it anyways.
This is also why it’s important to fact check a LLM’s responses, no matter how much the developers have fine-tuned their accuracy.
(*Sidenote, while AI does save previous conversation responses and use those to fine-tune models or sometimes even deliver as a part of a future input query, that’s not…really augmented context retrieval? The secondary knowledge corpus used for augmented context retrieval is…not exactly static, you can update and add to the knowledge corpus, but it’s a relatively fixed set of curated and verified data. The retrieval process for saved past responses isn’t dissimilar to augmented context retrieval, but it’s typically stored and handled separately.)
So, those are a few tasks LLM interfaces can manage to improve LLM responses and user experience. There’s other things they can manage or incorporate into their framework, this is by no means an exhaustive or even thorough list of what they can do. But moving on, let’s talk about ways to fine-tune AI. The exact hows aren't super necessary for our purposes, so very briefly;
Supervised fine-tuning
As a quick reminder, supervised learning means that the training data is labeled. In the case for this stage, the AI is given data with inputs that have specific outputs. The goal here is to coach the AI into delivering responses in specific ways to a specific degree of quality. When the AI starts recognizing the patterns in the training data, it can apply those patterns to future user inputs (AI is really good at pattern recognition, so this is taking advantage of that skill to apply it to native tasks AI is not as good at handling).
As a note, some models stop their training here (for example, Vicuna-13b stopped its training here). However there’s another two steps people can take to refine AI even further (as a note, they are listed separately but they go hand-in-hand);
Reward modeling
To improve the quality of LLM responses, people develop reward models to encourage the AIs to seek higher quality responses and avoid low quality responses during reinforcement learning. This explanation makes the AI sound like it’s a dog being trained with treats -- it’s not like that, don’t fall into AI anthropomorphism. Rating values just are applied to LLM responses and the AI is coded to try to get a high score for future responses.
For a very basic overview of reward modeling: given a specific set of data, the LLM generates a bunch of responses that are then given quality ratings by humans. The AI rates all of those responses on its own as well. Then using the human labeled data as the ‘ground truth’, the developers have the AI compare its ratings to the humans’ ratings using a loss function and adjust its parameters accordingly. Given enough data and training, the AI can begin to identify patterns and rate future responses from the LLM on its own (this process is basically the same way neural networks are trained in the pre-training stage).
On its own, reward modeling is not very useful. However, it becomes very useful for the next stage;
Reinforcement learning
So, the AI now has a reward model. That model is now fixed and will no longer change. Now the AI runs a bunch of prompts and generates a bunch of responses that it then rates based on its new reward model. Pathways that led to higher rated responses are given higher weights, pathways that led to lower rated responses are minimized. Again, I’m kind of breezing through the explanation for this because the exact how doesn’t really matter, but this is another way AI is coached to deliver certain types of responses.
You might’ve heard of the term reinforcement learning from human feedback (or RLHF for short) in regards to reward modeling and reinforcement learning because this is how ChatGPT developed its reward model. Users rated the AI’s responses and (after going through a group of moderators to check for outliers, trolls, and relevancy), these ratings were saved as the ‘ground truth’ data for the AI to adjust its own response ratings to. Part of why this made the news is because this method of developing reward model data worked way better than people expected it to. One of the key benefits was that even beyond checking for knowledge accuracy, this also helped fine-tune how that knowledge is delivered (ie two responses can contain the same information, but one could still be rated over another based on its wording).
As a quick side note, this stage can also be very prone to human bias. For example, the researchers rating ChatGPT’s responses favored lengthier explanations, so ChatGPT is now biased to delivering lengthier responses to queries. Just something to keep in mind.
So, something that’s really important to understand from these fine-tuning stages and for AI in general is how much of the AI’s capabilities are human regulated and monitored. AI is not continuously learning. The models are pre-trained to mimic human language patterns based on a set chunk of data and that learning stops after the pre-training stage is completed and the model is released. Any data incorporated during the fine-tuning stages for AI is humans guiding and coaching it to deliver preferred responses. A finished reward model is just as static as a LLM and its human biases echo through the reinforced learning stage.
People tend to assume that if something is human-like, it must be due to deeper human reasoning. But this AI anthropomorphism is…really bad. Consequences range from the term “AI hallucination” (which is defined as “when the AI says something false but thinks it is true,” except that is an absolute bullshit concept because AI doesn’t know what truth is), all the way to the (usually highly underpaid) human labor maintaining the “human-like” aspects of AI getting ignored and swept under the rug of anthropomorphization. I’m trying not to get into my personal opinions here so I’ll leave this at that, but if there’s any one thing I want people to take away from this monster of a post, it’s that AI’s “human” behavior is not only simulated but very much maintained by humans.
Anyways, to close this section out: The more you fine-tune an AI, the more narrow and specific it becomes in its application. It can still be very versatile in its use, but they are still developed for very specific tasks, and you need to keep that in mind if/when you choose to use it (I’ll return to this point in the final section).
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pandoraslxna · 3 months
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Isn't that anon the same one who was complaining during Kinktober? Many people wrote for Kinkmas it's natural that some get higher recognition, certain fics need to reach certain audiences and it could take more time if you are a smaller blog but it doesn't mean that you are a worse writer or that anyone is doing it on purpose
It is the same anon.
And besides that fact, there are many other reasons why I haven’t reblogged some fics yet. Maybe I haven’t seen your tag yet, maybe I just didn’t had time to check it out yet, etc. Even I have boundaries, there are kinks and tropes and even such things as pet names I don’t like which immediately make me stop reading a fic and that’s okay. It doesn’t mean the fic itself is bad, it just means it’s not for me personally. I only reblog fics I’ve read from start to finish and enjoyed, but if they contain something I’m not into, I’m not reading it and I’m not reblogging it either.
I also don’t always have time to read. Even if I’m answering asks, I could be around family members or coworkers right now or just be in the middle of something where I only have a couple of minutes to check my phone, but that’s simply not the right time to open a fic and start reading it. When I read, I need peace and quiet. I also have to be in the mood because, guess what, smut is basically porn and I’m not in the mood for smut 24 hours of the day. Even I have shitty days when I come home from work or whatever, when I’m tired or what not and then I don’t really feel like reading smut or reading anything at all. Sometimes I’m just overwhelmed and BUSY, which is why you often see me being active but not answering asks or only answering the ones that require a short response. You also expect me to pop out one fic after another, but how am I supposed to write if I’m on here reading every single Avatar fic that has been posted? I can’t do it all, I only have two days a week for myself.
And now to the most important part: the reason I mostly reblog my moots works is, because that’s literally the reason I started following them for. I love their fics!! They aren’t just my moots, these people are great authors and artists and I enjoy what they do, so I consume and support their content. That’s it. And after this fact, they’re also my friends. Please just have a look at the reblogs of my posts. 90% of the time, the only people giving me feedbacks are my moots. And as much as they support everything I do, I want to support them too. It’s that simple and has nothing to do with "popular blogs" sticking together or anything like that.
If I haven’t reblogged a fic in which you tagged me in yet, please don’t get mad at me. I promise that I’m not doing this on purpose. Your fic isn’t bad just because I’m not paying attention to it. I‘m really trying to be as supportive as I can, but this blog isn’t a job. It’s barely even a hobby. Don’t forget that I’m a human too and that I have a life outside of tumblr. And next time you get frustrated over a missing reblog from me, consider all of these things I just mentioned before sending me such asks.
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💛Smoshblr December Asks Final Day💙
IMPORTANT NOTES (that I forgot to include in todays ask):
If you aren't done with answering all your questions yet, but want to; then don't feel any pressure to do this today 🤗 Just bc it says december on the tin, doesn't mean I will appreciate getting your answer any less, if it's in late january or smth 🫶
also: I promise I will get around to looking at & interacting with everyone's responses! I promise I did not forget about you, I have just been/still am incredibly busy irl 🙈
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Alright, buckle in folks, this is a long one 😅✨
(Split into three parts like the other asks; No pressure to any of you to do the same tho, I just really like this format and it suited my thoughts/organizing needs)
My favourite smosh related memories of 2023 (chronologically):
Tldr:
1.) Joining the smoshblr community 💚
2.) Spommy nation 💜
3.) Smoshblr December Asks 💛💙
now for anyone who is interested in me rambling way too much:
Joining the Smoshblr community 💚
I got into smosh at the start of this year bc of the Reddit stories videos (I watched a couple smosh vids over the years before, but never consistently followed their releases). They became smth I looked forward to every week and lead me to check out more smosh videos in general! I also remember checking the tumblr tag for smosh back then and being a little disappointed, that the fandom was fairly inactive, barring a few exceptions <3
And then the reunion happened and it took me like 3 whole days or so to actually realizewhat went down 🙈. Bc I saw the thumbnails for the interview and the 2t1l vids and was just like “Aww, it’s so nice that they are friends again and doing a collab! 😊 (I’ll watch these later tho…)” Little did I know that finally watching them would turn my year around in a way that I could have never seen coming!
Suddenly the Smoshblr community exploded with activity and so so many lovely ppl joined and started sharing their thoughts and feelings about the reunion. And while I wasn’t an OG fan by any stretch, it really felt like there was magic in the air/ on this platform! 😹💕
I’ve been into fandom for more than half of my life by now. But I’ve never really gotten “personally” involved in any active communities. Just someone hovering on the sidelines and simply liking & reblogging stuff from time to time.
But with this community smth just started to click for me and made me to get “more out of my shell” or whatever idioms might apply here. And this allowed me to meet so many awesome people!! 💖 Special shoutout to @wiggog-y-hecox 💜, who was literally my first friend in this community! I still so fondly remember our talks about your cool smosh AU concepts! 🤗💙 And also to @swiftllama 🩵 for discussing so many taylor swift lyrics and ianthony with me (+occasionally good omens too 😹💕) And also @japhan2023! 💚 I know we’ve been chatting on and off since the beginning, but I am also so so happy that this month in particular allowed us to grow even closer!
2. Spommy nation 💜
So we’re moving into the middle/end of summer now on the timeline for this one. I was in the middle of writing my bachelor thesis and really going through it mentally bc of that. Getting deeper and deeper into the Smoshblr community also lead me to check out more smosh fanfics in general. Which is how I discovered the fic the right side of my neck (still smells like you) - jovenshires (imdeansgirl) - Smosh [Archive of Our Own] by our beloved @jovenshires 🩷.
Now I’ve told Katie <3 this story before so I’ll keep it brief here; but basically smth about this fic was incredibly comforting to my overworked brain. And I’ve reread it more times that I’ve ever read a fanfic in my life before that. And I truly think it has forever changed my brain chemistry, and also made me very attached to this ship (aside from the fact, that spommy is genuinely such an amazingly adorable ship with incredible amounts of potential, like!! I don’t wanna downplay that bc of the chemical reactions in my brain around that time 🙈) Some more stuff happened which eventually lead me to become friends with Katie, who is truly one of the ppl I treasure the most in the world at this point 💖
But I also wanted to mention Spommy nation as a whole, bc this subsection of the fandom is filled with so many kind, creative and just generally amazing people!And I also just love all of us freaking out whenever we get new crumbs for this ship lmao 😹💕
Special shoutouts to @soupy-girl 💛, Kit! @hoohoobeanie 🖤, Mer!!! @tommybowefuneralattendee 💜, @ancientvamp 🤍 & Snel @blondeforyou 💙 for being some of spommy’s nations strongest soldiers 🫡 and also absolutely lovely and incredible people in general, who I adore so so much🫶🥰
3. Smoshblr December asks 💛💙
I doubt anyone didn’t see this coming 🙈😹
So, I had been meaning to do smth inspired by the “Shayne guesses” series for a while now (also the fact that the official smosh compilation of those vids dropped this week, near the end of this challenge, is so funny to me for some reason). But I never quite figured out how to do it, since I knew guessing for eachother would be difficult. And if I just started randomly messaging all the blogs I’ve followed with an onslaught of these questions, it might get a bit weird or overwhelming 😅…
⚠️slight too personal ramblings ahead, that I don’t wanna force on anyone without warning⚠️
And then, towards the end of November, I gotta be honest, I was really not doing well, especially mentally. (First masters semester and I was still sorta dealing with the damage I caused to my brain while writing the thesis and barely getting two weeks between defending it and starting the new semester to truly recover from it all) And I knew december would get worse, bc I still hadn’t finished all the Christmas presents for my family, assignments were piling up & I kept on catching way too little sleep.
So all of these stressful thoughts made me think “You know, a lot of other ppl are probably struggling with similar stuff rn, especially during these dark & cold times of the year. So why not try to do smth that might bring some joy or fun into other ppl’s lives?” And that’s how I literally typed up that initial post, two days before December started without having planned it for more than a literal day or so 🙈😹 (I did already have a long list of questions, bc I started doing the top 3 stuff in my friendgroup, but rearranging everything to fit the sorta 3-day cycle I wanted to do, still happened up until last week lmao; tho I always knew that this would be the last question <3)
(end of rambling ⚠️)
And I was genuinely, positively overwhelmed by how many people wanted to join in for this silly little game!🥹 I love and appreciate all of you, whether you stuck around for the whole month, might still be catching up on some of the questions (which, no worries, I know there were a lot 🤗) or just answered a few of them! 🤗💖 And as I am currently fighting the urge to tag every single person who participated in this activity, I cannot help myself but atthe very least tag the ppl that I feel like I have grown closest to/gotten to know a hell of a lot better, over the course of this month (some of which I may have known/followed for a while now, but some I also got to know mainly bc of them joining in on this journey with me in the first place: @ceilidhasworld ❤️, @fantasticduckchaos 🩶, @notthatalex 🖤, @natashasbitxh 🧡, @shaynetopps 💜,  @only-frann 💛, @smoshmonker 💚, @smoshidiot 🩷, @craintheodora 🩵, and so so many more of you guys! I just don’t want this entire post to become a taglist or send this to too many ppls notifications 🙈🫶
Note:
I know that I am super behind on interacting with everyone's responses! 🙈 And I promise that I will get to each of them eventually! 🤗 I am just super busy with assignments and exam prep atm. And also get very easily overwhelmed by talking a lot to people, even if it's just online 😅 (I love and appreciate ppl reaching out, asking questions or otherwise trying to have a conversation with me tho! It might just take me a good while to respond in some cases, which I promise has nothing to do with how much I value any of you 🥹🫶💞)
PS: The month might be over, but I do have something special planned in honor of this event and everyone participating in it 👀🫶
💚 Smoshblr December Wrapped 💚
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michellemisfit · 4 months
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Weekly Tag Wednesday Thursday
Thank you @darlingian for creating this week’s game. Thanks for the tag @juliakayyy @lingy910y @jrooc @sam-loves-seb @mmmichyyy @mickeysgaymom @deedala @metalheadmickey @creepkinginc @stocious @mybrainismelted @energievie
Which character from any media would you like to have as a father? 
Magnus Bane (Shadowhunters) would be pretty cool, AND magic.
If money, laws, time, and effort were no object, what animal would you want to have?
Do laws include laws of science and… y’know… reality? If not… Mother fucking dragon, baby!
What is your Chinese takeout order? 
Salt & Pepper chicken. Duck pancakes. Satay chicken. Prawn crackers. An insane quantity of spring rolls for @rutherinahobbit
What's your favorite emoji?
I’ve become very fond of 🫡, but the one I use most often is probably 🥺 - it’s literally my face. I look at Ruth like that and say ‘I am the emoticon’ and then she has to be nice to me… 🥺
Would you rather have a library, greenhouse, or home theater in your house?
Library. For the aesthetic and the comfy comfy reading nooks! Also I would be able to have all my favourite fic bound and displayed in the library <3 <3 <3
What childhood tv show do you think of the most fondly?
My Little Pony and Animals Of Farthing Wood
What was your tumblr like when you first joined?
I had it for longer, but I first started really using it for Shadowhunters, and 90% of the fandom was here, before it largely moved to Twitter, and now has been struggling to move back, so has sort of become a bit homeless 🥺
What clothing style do you love but don't feel compelled to replicate yourself?
Anything neat and tailored. I think it looks fly AF, but I have neither the body type nor the patience for it.
If you were plopped into a fictional world, which one would you know the layout of the best?
Stars Hallow is really good shout I’ve seen other people use. Also any fictional TV show that basically takes place in a home, only. I’d be all over that! haha
What is your favorite piece of art? 
I’ve been obsessed with ‘Dream Caused by the Flight of a Bee Around a Pomegranate a Second Before Awakening’ ever since I was about 10 years old.
Do you have a water bottle? what does it look like?
I recently broke my water bottle so I’ve got a temporary replacement one and I hate it. It’s boring and too big and not the right shape. Grr.
What fanfic trope is a quiet fave?
I’m pretty loud about all my fic feelings. Sometimes I unexpectedly enjoy a Mafia/Crime AU, though I would never go looking for it!
Do you carry a daily bag? what does it look like? what's the weirdest thing in it?
I’ve got three. A tote bag for when I bring lunch Tupperwares into work or otherwise have to transport big things. A large backpack for when I bring my laptop into work or travel. And a tiiiiiiiny backpack (smaller than A5) and the weirdest thing is how much stuff I manage to fit into it! First Aid Kit. Sewing Kit. Wallet. Phone. Portable Phone Charger. Sunglasses. Tissues. Cigarettes. House keys. Pill box. Misc. hair things for when other people need them.
If you had to ship Mickey with another Gallagher, who would it be?
Carl. Ultimate chaos couple!!!! 🙌
What is a fanfic trope you didn't expect to like and then very much did?
We all know the old adage: You're only ever one good fic away from developing that weird kink you keep making jokes about, stay humble.
There’s nothing that hits quite the way an unexpected horny swoop hits! Stay humble. Stay open. Stay curious.
Do you think s11 Mickey can still carry s11 Ian?
Mickey Milkovich voice: YUP YUP
Who got custody of the killing bat when they sold the house?
Agree with @lingy910y - I absolutely see Mickey and Carl fighting for the bat! it’s their potato masher!! <3
Tagging @silvanshadow @captainjowl @thisdivorce @crestfallercanyon @heymacy @ohkate @too-schoolforcool @heymrspatel @gallawitchxx @callivich @crossmydna @palepinkgoat @vintagelacerosette @the-rat-wins @tsuga-of-mars @you-are-so-much-better-than-that @ian-galagher @imikhailotakeyouian @mikhailoisbaby @depressedstressedlemonzest
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sophoscorner · 5 months
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As long as I’ve been on Tumblr I have seen posts talking about how undervalued women are in fandom, and I’ve nodded along, reblogged and moved on with my life. Occasionally I’ve tried to figure out how one would solve this problem at least in their own fandom experiences, and I’ve never had an answer, but today I am here to tell you: the answer is Mei. 
I’m 100% joking, but also so serious. Mei is the most undervalued character in lmk and she deserves so much more love. She is the only girl in the main cast (I’m counting red son as a boy because that’s what he is in cannon) and she has so many cool things about her. She’s literally descended from dragons, she has a complex relationship with her parents, trouble sharing her feelings and asking for help, and she HOSTED LITERAL WORLD ENDING FLAMES, but when you look at her followers on tumblr you’d think she doesn’t do much.
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(Pigsy did not make it on this graph because he doesn’t have his followers listed on his tag page)
Before I carry on with all this data analysis I want to say that I’m not shaming any specific people for not being particularly interested in Mei. The important thing when it comes to biases isn’t one specific case it’s trends, so it’s not about whether you like Mei, it's about whether you have a tendency to think guy characters are more interesting to talk about them more. 
Anyways, when you look at Ao3 tags you may think that Mei has just as many fics about her as a lot of the main cast (minus the main character and the gay monkeys of course), but when you filter for fics tagged with Mei in them you’ll find a frustrating amount that have her as a supporting character or worse mentioned that one time. The thing about tagging characters is you’re not saying the fic is about them you’re saying the fic has them as part of the plot, and so most of her popularity comes from being an amazing best friend, matchmaker and a party animal instead of any of her internal conflicts.
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To find fics that were actually about Mei (to some degree) I filtered for the tags Mei-centric and Mei Needs a Hug,and the results were much different. Mei’s number of fics is around how many Tang has. She has 10 more Needs a Hug fics than him, and he has 10 more -centric fics than her. The only character she’s beating out is Pigsy whose -centric tag doesn’t even have it’s own page yet.
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Probably the most popular aspect of fandom (for better or worse) is shipping, and there’s a surprising lack of shippable characters in lmk. With the brotherhood and older demons there’s some variation, but for the stoplight trio they really only have each other (at least from what I’ve seen), and when you look at the popularity (on Ao3) of the different ships the results are… decisive. The most popular ship in the trio is MK/Red Son and the runner up Mei/Red Son has only 1/5 of the fics. I personally only really like MK/Red SOn and the whole trio shipped together (poly ships aren’t as popular), but I’m still surprised that Mei/Red Son, which is the one most supported by cannon in my opinion, is so much less popular. 
Unlike the others this isn’t really me saying Mei absolutely should be shipped more, but shipping is pretty much always correlated to how popular a character is in fandom so I thought it was worth mentioning.
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I don’t really know what to say at the end of this. I’m not much of a analyzer or a headcanoner. I don’t know how to delta every interesting thing I love about her. Please just take a second to appreciate Mei and all that she’s been through. Maybe partake in Mei thursday every once and awhile or just talk about her more. I don’t know, I just wanted to make a bunch of graphs about it. (Thank you @mythicalmagical-monkeyman for inspiring this <3)
Also this started as a fic rec list (that’s why Ao3 comes up so much), so if you have any Mei fics you like pls send em on over.
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squiddlysq · 1 year
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Sun & Moon Throughout the Pizzaplex
I recently got ahold of Security Breach & played through it for the first time last night & was kind of obsessed with alot of the environmental details I was finding, specifically in relation to Sun & Moon.
I feel like in fic it’s always implied that the daycare is super closed off & there’s like no mention of the attendants anywhere else in the plex & that their merch is confined exclusively to their gift shop cause they’re sort of cringe or unpopular with older kids. HOWEVER their stupid little faces were basically everywhere I looked & I wanted to show both that and a couple of really cute unique props I found. I know there’s like basically no crossover between the sun & moon fandom and People Who Have Any Intention of Playing Security Breach so I wanted to just compile a bunch of the stuff they have around the Pizzaplex here for easy access by anyone who (understandably) doesn’t want to play the game. I’m putting under a readmore so I don’t clog the tag with a giant ass photo post but I think these things are cute as hell & some of them I’d literally never seen, in the tumblr fanbase OR in any of the playthrough’s I’ve watched through so take a peep if you wanna see Sun & Moon appreciation throughout the Pizzaplex.
First I just wanted to show that they’ve got multiple stands to themselves for merch in the main lobby gift shops ! Like as SOON as you enter the game proper you’re basically immediately hit with these guys;
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And these cute little Sun shirts that are scattered throughout the plex giftshops;
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These I think people are more likely to have seen but I still think the bathroom decals are so cute & I personally had only ever seen the Sun one in game footage so ! Here’s both;
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Onto the more exciting stuff look at this ARCADE MACHINE !!! It’s looks like a regular clawgrab machine except it doesn’t have any prizes loaded into it, the design is so cute though;
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Again I’m sure most people have seen this but I love Sun’s shit ‘BANNED >:(’ poster so much & it is ALL OVER kid’s cove;
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This one is my absolute favourite I’ll be real, snooping around the backrooms of Roxy Raceway I found Sun & Moon themed go-karts and absolutely lost my mind;
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At first I just found two tucked in a dirty corner and I was like ‘Welp guess homophobia strikes again’ BUT there were several of them scattered around with the other karts & several (^^^ in the pic) laid out ready to go on the track.
& just a couple other miscellaneous things, like this cute little logo I found in the backroom of the theatre that I don’t think I saw literally anywhere else;
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& this tiny shit 3 pixel art of the boys on their section of the pizzaplex map lmao. I think they’re literally just in their poses from the daycare statue but it’s still a cute doodle;
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There’s also these Moon faces up on the Faztheatre sign which I’d never seen before ! (Ignore me visibly wandering around taking screenshots of the environment when I’m supposed to be running for my life)
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& lastly I just wanted to show these like, dedicated merch counters they seem to have in the prize counter room cause they’re cute as hell & Moon even has a collectible figurine on sale which. Canon confirmation of an adult nerd fanbase for the daycare animatronics in universe I guess;
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It’s repeat textures so I won’t bother with pics but they’ve got posters and plushies and pictures literally ALL over the Pizzaplex it really sweet. Like they are not neglected in the plex marketing literally at all. I even found a Moon screen inside one of the arcade karaoke rooms for some reason. Bonus this note you can find made me heehee. Moon scaring the shit out of children like it’s his job;
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sentientmasstransit · 10 months
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I have once again been informed that Penandinkprincess is trying to accuse me of sending her anon hate and making angry posts about her. Since she can’t be bothered to apologize nor set the record straight, I’m doing it myself.
For background, I knew very little about her. Read several of her works when I first started watching TLOU, wasn’t really a fan of her writing or characterization, and decided not to read anymore. However I did follow her on tumblr, because personally disliking someone’s writing =/= disliking them as a person or that their work is Bad™ and as a whole I enjoy following writing blogs. However, I blocked her after the miscarriage fic, as I did find it personally offensive and I did not like how she dismissed the genuine commentary she got about it. End of the conversation, no reason for me to seek out someone who is that willing to create offensive content.
I have not sent any anon messages, something that i believe can be proven by tracking IP addresses- there have always been ways to check those. I don’t know if Pen has been doing that or not, but if she was I would be MORE than willing to send one to settle this once and for all. It was my post and my name getting dragged into this for no reason.
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So here is my original post that I made in the morning, the one that pen used as evidence, along with my later reblogs when I got home from the barn several hours later. Go ahead and check time stamps on them or whatever you wanna do. It had no tags and didn’t get reblogs outside of mine until May 22nd, aka only my followers would have seen it unless someone went looking for it. Why was my research into playgrounds offensive? I have no idea.
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This was the post (now deleted) pen made about me that I was informed of by a friend on May 22nd. I don’t know when she made the post, I didn’t see what I said until today when I received the screenshots. However, I do have to admire Pen’s ‘determination to be angry about literally anything I could post’, to use her own words.
I’ve been writing Must Have Missed All the Street Signs for months now. I have always posted about me finding or not finding something I can use, such as the Sinclair dinosaur or the upcoming four story building in Concordia. Usually my writing info is tagged SentientMassTransit writing, sometimes it’s not. The tag is for my benefit- if I’m in a hurry I don’t always use it. However people can feel free to look through it to see how much research I’ve been doing all along. And yeah, I *was* really annoyed that I spent all night on Google maps looking for an actual playground in boston. Turned out I was looking in the wrong part of the city the entire time. Hooray for me. It’s all good now I found one, November can proceed as plans and Joel can once again pull a ‘wait how do you know what a hotel is’ type deal.
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This was Pens second post about me, after being confronted by the same anon that told me about it this morning. It still points fingers toward me being the once sending hate, and does not apologize for doing so in the first place. Her claim to not be scouring blogs to find conflict was quite a stretch, considering my post was completely untagged with essentially zero reblogs. I’d assume someone sent it to her unless it came from her personal account because, again, I’ve had her writing blog blocked since the miscarriage debacle, which predates the playground. The hate stopping, much like my post, was a coincidence. She also did not share the anon message, which I have been given permission to share in it’s entirety by said anon, which was as follows-
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Now, of course I have no way to confirm confirm that this was indeed the anon that spoke to pen or that this was the message they sent, although I do believe them. And pen would have an identical one, so it’s easy enough to prove.
General PSA:
Here’s a quick and handy guide to finding out if a complete strangers post was about you:
They tagged you in it
There’s a picture of you in it
They said your name on it
That it.
And if it’s something negative that applies to you? Especially if it’s something only you would know about? That post is ALSO not about you. Like I’ve said before- if the shoe fits, wear it, but no one knows what size you wear unless you announce it to the world.
This is not my first fucking rodeo with getting accused of shit I not only didn’t do, but also can easily prove that I did not do. I think this is my sixth rodeo, actually. I will be handing out blocks like candy so don’t bother getting pissy. I don’t care if y’all still like Pen after this- do what you want. Just go do it far away from me. See yourselves out.
Jesus fucking Christ.
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ashsostrange · 6 months
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I'm honestly surprised at the amount of people who are still supporting him.He's got his little ((whats left of them at least)) fan base wrapped around his fingers.
“ He’s a minor he cant think for himself, his brain ain't developed!!” “ You don't know what it's like for him at home!” my fav so far “y'all are ablest and racist!! Yall don't care about black people!”
Bitch no one gives a fuck that he is black!! Motherfucker is telling people/threatening to eat glass to get away from what he's said to people. Calling someone out for gaslighting and trying to manipulate people with that shit ain't racist. Also using self diagnosis and laying about taking pill that will “get you high” as a way to get out of all his call outs. This is the stupidest shit I have seen while being on tumblr for the past three or so years like damn!!💆🏾‍♀️
perioddd!! lemme talk my shit again
i honestly giggled when his bf tried to say “y’all hate black people” when pretty much everyone speaking on him is black. why would i do that bc he’s black?? i’m black, not to mention a darskin girl. do with that info what you will.
ppl wna make us seem like bullies so bad. this isn’t just about what happened w catty, hell, it’s hardly about her at all! it’s ab his behavior in general. it’s inappropriate! if he would’ve just owned up, there wouldn’t have been a problem. i’m not obsessed w this nigga, i don’t care to go out of my way to make a post ab him everyday. he’s the one who escalated this further. he only wants us to “mind our business” when we’re not coming for his neck.
ab his mental health, if he doesn’t have a real diagnosis, he needs to not claim mental illnesses like that, but rather acknowledge that something is wrong with him. if you make a mistake, you need to not blame every damn thing on your said mental illness. if anything it’s a justification, but never an excuse. take the initiative to look at yourself and decide if you’re in the right headspace to be on the internet or not. i struggle with mental health, but not in the way he allegedly does. if ik i’m not in the right headspace for something, i step away. he needs to do that. and invest in a diary.
i genuinely don’t know why people are defending him when he did this to himself. if woulda stopped riding my dick like beyoncé rode that surfboard, then maybe we wouldn’t be here right now. accountability isn’t a bad thing. we’ve all made mistakes. i know i’ve made many, it’s about how you address them that matters.
i was literally defending his lame ass when he was sending inboxes as an anon to cause more mess between these two girls. yao was saying he was behind the anon and obv i didn’t believe her bc it wasn’t making sense to me at the time, and there was no real way to prove it. but then he started sending her hella inboxes and tagged all his mutuals saying “war has begun” a whole day later. when i tell you i showed one of my bsfs that post and we LAUGHEDD 🤣🤣🤣 nigga this is tumblrrrr, not a battlefield! from that day i’ve been watching him lmao. didn’t wna say anything about his behavior until i gathered more info cuz i’m not a mean girl (and didn’t want his army bombarding my inbox), but this is ridiculous.
and i’m so glad lia dmed me one day so we could discuss his weirdness. we literally played his ass and he didn’t know. bro was sending her msgs talking ab “i liked your new fic, but you blocked me” and he was the only one she had blocked recently. he sent so many hateful msgs under anon after that, nd he was reblogging it acting like it wasn’t him like… ok weird nigga.
i’m not ableist or “racist” (i’m literally fucking black!) fuck i gotta b ableist for? i’m the last person to rock w any kind of tomfoolery, and all my mutuals and irls know that. i’m unapologetically me on this blog. what you see is who i am.
“he’s a minor!!” so are the rest of us dealing with his bs bro. i’m literally SIXTEEN 😭
like i said, in most situations, if multiple people (with good morals) are telling you that you’re wrong, you can’t be right. i was never disrespectful with him to begin with. you get disrespectful with me, i get disrespectful with you. don’t care who you are ✌️like thank yewww
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welcome welcome, it’s been a while.
but we’re back now with tumblr’s favorite show: AFTG Hot Takes, where i spew paragraphs and paragraphs of bullshit instead of working on my WIP.
without any further ado, i am proud to present: every AFTG ship, ranked.
this is your friendly reminder that these are just my opinions. if you like a ship i don’t: great! if you don’t like a ship that i love: also great! i’m always happy to hear people’s thoughts, and i love a good friendly debate, but please remember that i’m 17. i’m not here to argue with you about why your ship is the best. i’m just here to have fun.
these probably aren’t all the ships that are out there, but this is everything i’ve seen so far. if i missed one, let me know!
24. Jean/Riko
this one… ew. ew ew ew. every ship with riko is so ew, i cannot begin to explain, but this one is the worst.
i’ve read too many Nest fics to not gag at this tag, cause it’s never consensual.
23. Kevin/Riko
just no.
moving on.
22. Kevin/Thea
y’all know i hate this ship by now, but for newcomers: it’s predatory and neglectful. very very ick.
21. Andrew/Roland
this one… where to start?
i’ll probably make a full post ab it soon, so for now, let’s just say that it’s very similar to Kevin/Thea. The age gap at the time that things started between them… the morals and legality are murky at best.
20. Andrew/Kevin
i’ve said it once, and i’ll say it again: they. aren’t. good. for. each. other.
Kevin doesn’t respect boundaries. he pushes things. and boundaries are the absolute most important thing for Andrew. they just don’t work.
19. Andrew/Neil/Kevin
i very vehemently despise this ship, for the same reason i hate Andrew/Kevin. i think it’s so important for y’all to remember who these characters are and not just ship them because they all have dicks and are nice to each other sometimes. that turns into mlm fetishization real fuckin quick.
18. Neil/Kevin
this is one that i can almost sort of see. if i hadn’t accidentally spoiled andreil for myself, i would have assumed this was canon during my first read.
but it’s just… i love the fact that they’re friends. i think their friendship can be so amazing, and i love reading fics where they’re that close. i don’t think every friendship in media has to turn romantic.
17. Kevin/Jean/Jeremy
remember what i said about kevandreil? apply it to this one too.
ik it sounds like i just hate poly couples. i don’t. i just hate ships like this, that really wouldn’t be healthy but people put together anyway because oh gay people yay! it feels gross and fetish-y and i am not here for it.
16. Kevin/Jean
this is a ship that i can see happening pre-canon, but i’m not the biggest fan of it simply because there’s no way it could be healthy. they went through a lot together, sure, but traumabonds are notoriously unhealthy.
15. Kevin/Matt
this, again, feels like just putting two characters together because they’re nice to each other occasionally, but really? they aren’t. correct me if i’m wrong, but Matt and Kev only have one canon interaction that i can remember, and it’s literally Matt punching Kev in the face.
Not to mention, Dan and Matt. Dan and Matt! i love them too much to accept this.
14. Kevin/Matt/Aaron
listen. again, i don’t hate poly couples. i really, really don’t. i just…
Matt literally… just doesn’t mesh well with Kev or Aaron. at all? i don’t understand the thought process behind this.
13. Renee/Jean
i don’t… i don’t hate this one. i just don’t like it. i feel like both Renee and Jean have wayyy better ships (not to spoil anything, but they both make top 5 in different ships)
i don’t think they’re awful, per se, i just don’t really see the chemistry.
12. Allison/Seth
this is an unpopular opinion, i know. but i’ve read a few “Seth lives” fics that redeem him, so i can’t hate him. i can’t, you can’t make me.
believe me, i don’t like it either, but i don’t run this city, the rats do.
anyway, it’s not awesome and i like Ally’s other options better, but it could be good! it could be great! i read too much redemption fanfic!
11. Kevin/Jeremy
i’ll be honest, it’s not my favorite to read when Jean is also in a fic, but if we’re talking in general?
i adore. fics where Kev is falling all over himself trying to talk to Jer are my bread. and. fucking. butter. quicksand has destroyed me. absolutely ruined me.
10. Aaron/Katelyn
starting off the top ten with one of my favorite minor characters ever, this ship is up here because i love Kate so much.
i read too much fanfiction, i know, but i just think she’s so cool?
honestly, i really don’t think Aaron deserves her. she’s that cool. i love her so much. that’s my lady. my babygirl. simply adore.
9. Abby/Wymack/Betsy
i like this one, i really do. all the Fox parents together? it’s perfect. i love it. enough said.
8. Kevin/Allison
listen. i’ve said i didn’t get it before, but honestly? i change my mind. i like this one. i like it a lot.
their personalities would mesh so well. they’re both dramatic, they’d be the funniest fucking couple in the world. i like it a lot.
7. Abby/Wymack
it’s a classic. i ship it, you ship it, the Foxes ship it too. we all ship it. they’re made for each other, and that’s all i have to say.
6. Matt/Dan
if you don’t like this one, you’re lying. they are. the definition. of love.
they’re so cute? so cute? i have no words?
your honor, i love them.
top five time!!
5. Nicky/Erik
god, these two.
if you know me at all, you know i have a soft spot for Nicky. i relate to his story so much, and i hate how dirty Nora did him.
but god, these two. they are love. they are perfect.
i have no words. i just love them so much
4. Kevin/Aaron
i love this one. you know i love this one. everyone knows i love this one.
they’re both assholes, and they’re both hurt in different ways, and i love when they heal together. when they help each other and lean on each other and just- ugh.
i like watching them heal, and i like watching them do it together. (plus best friend’s brother anyone?? a classic trope)
3. Renee/Allison
i love them so much. i love them so much.
they balance each other out so well? they’re so perfect for each other?
also, we need more wlw couples in media in general, and especially in this series.
i love them so much.
2. Jean/Jeremy
you know. you know i love this one (thank you Hoax, and thank you gus_47. you have ruined my sleep schedule and i have never been happier)
grumpyxsunshine, guys. healing together. i love when people heal together. i love it
also, round of applause to us in the fandom for creating an incredibly popular ship between two people who literally never interact in canon. we did that. i love that for us.
and now, for #1.
1. Andrew/Neil
they are love. they. are. love.
it’s a classic but it’s perfect, and i love them so much. no i will not elaborate (this time)
well! thank you for reading, start a (friendly) fight with me if you want, and drink some water
hugs and kisses <3
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