ShadeGarden @shadegarden - Tumblr Blog

hey so. don’t do this.

“coming from a place of respect” there is nothing respectful about a comment like this. this is exactly why I say witch hunt, speculations and accusations harm the writing community as much as ai does, if not more.

I am not saying “you’re an asshole if you think a fic is ai”. I have come across fics that I believe were ai-generated. but instead of asking (accusing) the authors, I make my own decisions whether I’ll continue reading for the benefit of the doubt or quietly exit the fics and look for something else to read.

because with every accusation like this, there’s always a chance of a genuine, innocent writer getting wrongly accused.

last but not least, fanfic writers do NOT owe you anything. they write for themselves and their own enjoyment. their ao3 accounts are their houses and they were kind enough to let you in their houses. for free. (you get to read things for free.) you don’t go into other people’s houses and tell them “actually I think the way you decorate your room is sus. did you actually do it yourself or did you ask a robot to do it for you?”. THEY 👏🏻 DON’T 👏🏻 OWE 👏🏻 YOU 👏🏻 ANYTHING. and I say this as someone who is not a fan of ai fics. if you don’t like what you’re seeing, quietly leave.

*the following is not about the fic in this specific post. in general, I still strongly believe people who let ai write for them should tag their works as ai accordingly. but if we want more people to be honest about it, we’ll have to stop shaming and harassing people who actually tag their ai-generated fics accordingly. harassment is never justified. not to mention, it will only make “ai writers” refrain from tagging their ai-generated works as such. and then there’s no way for anyone to know for absolute certainty if it’s ai. therefore the raise of witch hunt.

thebirchwood

Particularly key tags from prev.

gentlesleaze

My mom care's a little too much about hockey. Yeah, I see where you get it from.

animentality

iressails

Shane Hollander's face journeys (a series)

hello hi whose heart is breaking at the sad little half smile at the end ?

poetrylesbian

liminalbeauty

I am part of this demographic.

teaboot

On of the less intuitive things about love, I've found, of any kind, is the importance of needing things.

I didn't realize it until recently, but I've always seen love as something requiring sacrifice, selflessness, patience, and generosity- to ask for nothing is to be the best person I can be, small and quiet and never in the way, always happy and helpful, self-sufficient and present when desired.

It's only as an adult, now, that I'm beginning to see the selfishness of wanting nothing.

I cut my friend's hair in my kitchen the other day. They wanted a trim and I had the skills, so I offered, and was genuinely excited when they stopped hesitating over "bothering me" and took me up on it. It was a peaceful afternoon, and we had tea and chatted for an hour or more.

My brother and I shared popcorn at the movies a while ago. When I came time to pay, I pulled my card out like a wild western sheriff and slapped it on the machine before he could fight me for it first. The satisfaction was delightful.

Someone called me crying on the phone the other day. Kept apologizing for disturbing me at work, talking about how they were bothering me on my lunch break. I was telling the truth when I told them that really, I was flattered and honored and relieved, knowing that if they were hurting I would know, that I didn't have to worry in silence. It felt good to hear them slowly come down, and to know that they knew it would be better soon, and to hear them laugh wetly on the other end. We're getting together for a visit next week.

It's hard to need things, if you've trained yourself not to. It's hard to want things, when you don't know how to want anymore. Trusting people is difficult, and so is relying on them, but I don't know where I'd be without the people who rely on me.

I've heard a lot of people say, "Nobody will love you unless you love yourself". I've had a lot of thoughts about it. It's not right, but it's not wrong, either, I think.

"Nobody will love you unless you love yourself"... I've always taken that to mean, "You will not be lovable until you develop a positive view of yourself as a person".

Now, I think it's sort of inside-out.

"Nobody will love you unless you love yourself"... because nobody can show their love to you in a way that you can accept until you treat yourself kindly, and learn what you need, and what you want, and how to ask for it, and then give that vulnerability away.

Love, for me, is someone I ask for a ride to the airport. Whether they end up doing this or not is irrelevant.

It's not needy, or selfish, or taking up energy. It's giving the gift of being wanted, and needed, and thought of. It's giving someone the security of being part of someone's life.

alphabettysue

Ilya kissing Shane anywhere on his skin like Shane is his cuddly toy that can also play hockey. Kissing his shoulder anytime he leans over his shoulder to see hockey stats on his laptop. Kissing his palm and then the back of his hand and then his palm again while Shane drives, like in thanks because it's Ilya's playlist blasting through the speakers and Shane didn't fuss. Kissing his forehead where Shane is scrunching his eyebrows reading, reminding him to relax. Kissing his feet (even the soles as Shane yelps and giggles, ticklish, trying to be upset but failing) as he massages them at the end of a long day. Kissing his scalp again and again in bed because Shane bonked it slightly during practice and Ilya's heart nearly stopped. His Shane. His baby Shane. Kissing his naked chest and nipples in the afterglow, sprawled over him and holding possessively like someone could snatch him away. Sometimes he's almost obsessive with it, kissing his navel and the low soft of his stomach instead of blowing him, which he was about to do. Shane whines and nudges him with a knee, all Ilya please, come on don't make me beg. But Ilya only smiles, nips with vampire like teeth, kisses again, says, I will take my time. We have time now.

argillaforma

shane in the beginning of their official relationship being unsure of how to do casual intimacy because he’s used to only get it if it’s during sex or with the intent of turning into sex but now they’re boyfriends and he doesn’t always know how to navigate that so sometimes he will just 🧍🏻‍♂️ in the middle of the room because he wants a smooch but he’s unsure of how to progress and he feels weird asking for it before eventually realizing that ilya is more than happy to indulge

justshadowchan

wavewillow123

Hockey God Shane Hollander playing the best game of his goddamn LIFE during the first game against the Metros after he joins the centaurs, with his Husband, hockey god in his own right, by his side and the sheer determination to prove to himself that he is as great as he can be, that the metros only made it because of him, that despite all of the change nothing has broken in him.

They win. Of course they win. Its no fucking contest. Its not a question, not really, for anyone except for Hockey God Shane Hollander.

And then Hockey God Shane Hollander, who should be fucking ecstatic over this win over showing his old team exactly where they stand without him, showers so long his team starts looking towards Ilya in question. Showers so long his teams starts trickling out to celebrate, with Ilya's encouragement. Showers so long his skin's beet red and close to blistering under the heat, and everything's pruning, and somehow he still doesnt feel clean. Ilya's leaning against the doorway, saying "team's gone moya lyubov you stay any longer in here and i think you turn into fish", and Shane's crashing to his knees with a choked out gasp. Curling in on himself on that dirty fucking shower floor of the bell center's visitor locker room. The fucking stadium that built him, shaped him, was supposed to retire him. Trying to force breath into his lungs that carried him through one of the hardest games of his life. Ilya's turning off the water wirh a hiss at the temperature and kneeling to meet him knee for knee, soaking both pant legs in the process. Folding himself over shane to hold him as much as hes able to, cooing reassurances, putting a stop to apologies, and guiding breathing techniques but never once judging the adrenaline crash or ugly sobs or half mumbled self deprecating nonsense spilling from Shane's mouth because this isnt the time for it. No, its time for Hockey God Shane Hollander to fall apart in his husband's arms, the one place he has *ever* allowed himself to truly fall apart, until he can get back up and do it all over again.

Only after his tears stop and both of them are aching from the tile and the game and the emotional turmoil, do they stand, dry off, and head back to the hotel pressed so tightly together one could only guess where shane ended and ilya started or vice versa. Anyone who watched the Hockey Gods, the first husbands of hockey, walk out of that stadium saw them as the victors they were, cold and a step removed from those beneath them, and certainly didnt see the cracks beneath.

(Why do i love putting Shane into situations?? I dont really know but I do enjoy making him suffer. Theres something so so delicious about him being crushed under the weight of his own perfectionism/guilt/shame while still being the absolute best)

((Their position is directly inspired by a Klance fanart where Keith promises Lance he'll get him back to his family. Do you know the one? Am I too old now?))

caytoniccox

lol

captain-price-returns

Every day this guy looks in the mirror and psyches himself up to eat shit in the hopes that our big beautiful president succumbs to his one thousand diseases but I don't think it's in the cards

garagepaperback

fic: too little, too late pairing: hollanov tags: time travel (sort of), age difference

“No,” Rozanov said. “I only ever quit one thing. You have been furious at me over it for a long time.” Shane couldn’t help the noise that came out. “You quit playing? When?” “I was thirty.” Rozanov looked delighted. He shrugged, the expression shuttering, nose scrunching. “Maybe you should not ask things. I don’t know how it works. Maybe, I don’t know. The future could get broken.” He laughed. “Often I already think this is what happened.” “Maybe you shouldn’t have retired early, then," Shane said. Even brighter delight. A lot to take in—just a lot. He would be handsome his whole life.