accidental-spice

[accidental-spice]

About the AO3 "No Guest Comments for a while" warning

If you're not following any of AO3's social media accounts you might be in the dark as to what kind of "spam comments" have engendered this banner at the top of the site:

These spam comments have been posted about a great deal on the AO3 subreddit for the past couple of days. Initially they comprised a bunch of guest (logged out users) bot comments that insulted authors by suggesting they were using AI and not writing their own fics. Some examples, from the subreddit:

But it then escalated to outright graphic porn images and gifs being posted in comments, again by logged out 'Guest' accounts. Obviously, I'm not going to give examples of those, but between these two bot infestations, AO3 has clearly decided to act and has temporarily closed the ability to post comments for users who are not logged in with an AO3 account.

Unfortunately, this means that genuine readers who don't have an AO3 account won't be able to leave comments on fics that they enjoy.

If you are a genuine reader who doesn't yet have an AO3 account, I strongly suggest getting yourself on the waiting list for one. More and more AO3 authors are now locking their fics down to registered users only - either due to these bot comments or concerns about AI scraping their work - which means you're probably missing out on a lot of great stuff.

Hopefully guest commenting will be enabled again at some point soon, but I suggest not waiting until then. Get yourself on that list.

Wait times are going to be longer than usual at the moment, due to the current Wattpad purge [info on Fanlore | Wattpad subreddit thread], but if you're in line, then your invite will come through eventually.

Update: There's now a Megathread about this on the AO3 subreddit.

#ao3 #oh cuss #thats awful

[accidental-spice]

Wedge: Here’s the truth: I kill the enemy so someone, somewhere - probably someone I’ve never met and never will meet - will be happy.

Cheriss: That doesn’t make sense.

Wedge: Yes, it does. I told you how I lost my parents. Nothing I ever do can make up for that loss. But if I put myself in the way of people just as bad as the ones who killed my family, if I burn them down, then someone else they would have hurt gets to stay happy. That’s the only honorable thing about my profession. It’s not the killing. It’s making the galaxy a little better.

#wedge antilles #my BELOVED #gosh i love him

[accidental-spice]

I've been waiting to share this fic for way too long and I am SO EXCITED. Introducing, for @chenford-prompts 2 Days of Chenford: my fic for today's prompt: Time! As is pretty typical of me, I did not take this in a normal direction. Enjoy the angst, and the first lines under the cut!

Also please enjoy this playlist, you guys helped me make it and it is a MASTERPIECE!!

“7-Adam-100, an alarm has been tripped in a residential neighborhood near your location. 447 Oakhurst Avenue.”

As Tim started to reach for the radio, Lucy said, “You know, that’s almost definitely a false alarm. We could just leave it for someone else.”

“We’re closest,” Tim pointed out. “And it’s not always a false alarm.”

“Oh, come on, Tim. More than half the time, the homeowner just accidentally tripped the alarm on their way out.”

Tim frowned at her. “Since when are you trying to get out of doing your job?”

“I’m not, I just—” she faltered, and glanced down. “I just think it’s a waste of time. Especially for a sergeant.”

“Yeah, well, that’s not your call.” Grabbing the radio, Tim clicked it on. “Show us responding.”

Replacing it, he glanced at Lucy as they took another corner, heading towards the address. She was quiet, staring out the window, but Tim could see her reflection in the glass. There were dark shadows under her eyes, and her expression was tight with frustration.

This wasn’t normal Lucy behavior. She was empathetic and kind, and she took her job seriously. Some cops would try to blow off something like this, but not her. So what was it about? Was she still upset about their argument yesterday? He’d apologized that morning, but it had to be something.

Speculating wasn’t going to do him any good. “You okay?” he asked, bringing the shop to a halt at a stop sign. 

She didn’t respond right away, not until they were moving again. “Yeah— fine.”

“Listen, if this is about what I said about Sanford—”

“It’s not. You— you weren’t wrong,” she said, glancing at him. “Going out with him was probably a one time thing. He’s not… it wouldn’t work out.”

They turned onto Oakhurst. “Okay,” Tim said. “Then what’s wrong?”

She didn’t respond. When Tim looked at her again, she was staring at the house they’d pulled up in front of, her gaze heavy with something like dread. Then she unbuckled. “I can handle this— why don’t you stay here?”

Before Tim could even formulate an answer to that absolutely ridiculous question— he was a sergeant and her superior officer and definitely not the type to be sitting around in his shop while his gofer took care of calls for him— she’d opened the door and was heading for the house. 

“Wha— Chen!” Scrambling to unbuckle his seat belt, Tim slammed the door behind him with a little more force than was strictly necessary. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Just stay in the shop, I got this!”

“Lucy, what’s going—”

The shatter of glass, and Tim instinctively turned towards it.

A gunshot.

And then something slammed into his upper chest, sending him toppling backwards.

#the rookie #chenford #lucy chen #tim bradford #GOSH i adore this #angela lopez #tamara colins

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local woman who claimed she will "cross that bridge when she comes to it" arrives at said bridge

#mood

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best of ace 3/∞

#i dont go here but he is HILARIOUS #nancy drew

[accidental-spice]

Having mutuals is so funny because you can get them in three ways

1) you find them through gorgeous art and they see you art and follow you

2) you follow them for ages and one day they follow back

or 3) they break into your blog and your like ‘sure why not’

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Reblog this to give the person you reblogged from a heart shaped cookie

#have a cookie my dear

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Cozy Interior Aesthetic Pictures PSA (only if you care about not reblogging ai generated images)

This goes for all images really but I am seeing a sudden influx of mutuals reblogging ai art that I very much know do not want to be reblogging ai art. And it's almost entirely because, "Cute kitchen! Look at this lil cottage! Fits my aesthetic, saving that." Which is an attitude I love.

The problem is 90% of the images are clearly ai. I won't say obvious bc if you're not someone like me who just happens to have seen enough of that very specific ai imagery to recognize the vibe on sight, it isn't obvious until you do a doubletake and some fact-checking.

So!

What do we do? We want to keep sharing cute interiors! For our aesthetic! For our dream homes! But nobody likes being taken in by fakes. Knowing it is ai generated bc it is noted on the image is one thing (this never happens but pretend it does). Bc who hasn't played with a computer program to design a cute house? I have! But it's a different beast all together when the images are passed off as real places and we love those little places bc we haven't noticed what is wrong with them.

What do we do?

Keep reblogging cute interior/exterior/setting images! But before you hit the rebagel button do this one tiny, four second check: click to the original poster. Minimum 80% guarantee you will immediately find a blog filled with ai, unsourced, probably untagged art. What was hidden before now becomes wildly obvious.

And then! If you still like the image, that's fine if you want to reblog it anyways - but you are no longer taken in by it and you can do yourself and your followers after you a favor by making some little note on the post: "this is ai fyi but still cute." A little blogger beware and you're on your way!

TLDR - briefly click to op accounts before reblogging unsourced art: this is an almost foolproof way of detecting ai without having to play mind games with an image. 👏

[accidental-spice]

"Earth"

Spiderverse fanart for @monthly-challenge day 13!

#gwen stacy #miles morales #spiderman #awwwww this is BEAUTIFUL #ghostflower #itsv #atsv

[accidental-spice]

Today for @monthly-challenge's Spring Fling we have day 13: Earth! I wrote another Wingfeather Saga fan fic-- hope you guys like it! It's kind of a follow up to the one I wrote a couple days back, I'll link that here! (I'd also like to put these up on AO3 but I so do not have the motivation and energy for it right now. Perhaps later!)

(TW for mentions of death)

From the earth we come, and to the earth we are returned…

Esben stared straight forward as the priest continued speaking. He knew Artham was standing at his side, but his brother had his arm around their mother as she wept. And in this moment, Esben felt terribly, terribly alone.

His father, Jru Wingfeather, was dead. And he was High King of the Shining Isle.

It hadn’t been expected. Not really. His father had been older, yes, but healthy and hale. Mere days earlier he’d been joking around with the two of them, eyes sparkling with joy.

And then, two days ago, he passed in his sleep, a smile on his face. The doctor guessed that his heart had given out, which Esben still didn’t fully understand. How could one’s heart give out if it was so full of so many things? And his father had loved his family, and Anniera, with all his heart.

Nevertheless, he was gone now. Which meant Esben was the High King, and that was a little terrifying in a way that Esben preferred not to contemplate more than he had to.

Sure, he’d been training his whole life for this. But he was nineteen years old, and felt horribly unprepared and unready, and his heart still ached whenever he thought about taking up the crown his father had worn not even a full week ago.

They were going to have to have a coronation. Esben almost groaned out loud at the thought. He couldn’t imagine pretending to be kingly and majestic in front of a crowd right now. If he tried, he’d probably start to laugh. Or cry, and neither option was particularly appealing.

Artham’s nudge in the ribs startled him out of his thoughts. For a wild moment, he worried he’d voiced his thoughts out loud and his brother was going to scold him. But there was no reprimand in Artham’s gaze as he tilted his head silently at the priest, who’d finished speaking and was watching him expectantly.

Oh, right. He’d almost forgotten his own part in the ceremony. Stepping forward, Esben forced himself to look at it— the grave, the coffin that held his father. The mound of fresh earth next to it loomed darkly as Esben approached.

Reaching out, he took a handful of the earth and dropped it on top of the coffin. “May the Maker receive you with all joy, even as we mourn you here,” he recited, loud enough that the crowd could hear. Hesitating, he stared down at the coffin and added, only loud enough for him to hear, “I’ll try to make you proud, Papa. I’ll be a good king.” I hope.

He stepped back, and everything was suddenly moving faster than he could process. Before Esben knew it, the gaping hole was filled in, leaving a dark patch to mark the grave. Artham stepped forward with a tiny sapling, the roots encased in a ball of dirt. Together, as was the tradition, the two brothers dug a hole in the mound of dirt covering the grave and planted the sapling. As Artham shored it up with dirt, Esben stared at the small tree. Out of death, new life. Somehow, that thought didn’t bring him much comfort yet.

They got to their feet together, Artham’s hand on his shoulder lending Esben a little comfort. In turn, he put his arm around his mother’s shoulder when they moved to stand next to her. She pressed her hand against his, and Esben could see her blinking back tears.

And then the funeral was over, and they were heading into the main hall of Castle Rysen, where food had been set out and they could visit with the guests who came to express their condolences and support. 

Esben had expected to hate this part. But as guests stopped by, their words lent him strength. They spoke about his father, telling stories— of the king and the man, stories that were funny and stories that made both brothers and their mother cry. It was a bittersweet way to spend the day, mourning the High King, but celebrating him, too.

“It’s how Jru would have wanted it,” their mother said quietly. “He would have loved this, so many friends together here.” She gazed across the room, at the groups of people talking. 

“Sorrow, yet joy,” Artham said. “Loss, yet healing.”

Nala laughed softly. “Exactly.”

It was enough to bring a smile to Esben’s face, but only briefly. As another guest approached his mother, he murmured an excuse and slipped away. He needed a minute to himself, just one.

There was a small door in the right hand wall of the hall that led out to a balcony set in the side of the hill. A set of stairs led down to the green below, but Esben didn’t take them now. He just leaned against the railing and took a long, deep breath. Finally, he had a moment to himself, to think.

The sun was shining, which seemed a little wrong. Most funerals he’d read about had rain. When his aunt died, it was raining. But the sun was shining, the light glimmering on the sea. The breeze streamed through the nearby trees, the hush of leaves reaching his ears even from a distance.

It would have been a nice day for sailing, and Esben almost snorted at the thought. At the fact that he could think about those things when… when he was the High King now.

Every time he thought about it, the idea seemed to weigh a little heavier on his shoulders, and he closed his eyes. Oh, Maker. How am I supposed to do this on my own?

He wasn’t quite sure how long he’d been there when he heard the door behind him open, then close, and soft footsteps sounded. Artham? It didn’t really sound like him, which meant it was probably a guest. Esben straightened up, turning to face— Nia Helmer?

His eyes widened as she said, “I’m sorry to disturb you. I thought you’d probably want some time on your own, but Artham— well, he disagreed. I can leave, if you—”

“No,” Esben said immediately. “Stay. Please?”

The small smile she gave him sent a flash of warmth through him, and she came to stand next to him, hands resting on the railing as she stared out at the view.

Esben, however, wasn’t watching the view anymore. He was watching her— dressed in dark, somber clothing, her dark hair braided and twisted back, not a strand loose.

Artham had been right to send her. Anyone else, he would have been impatient or short with, but Nia… he didn’t think he could bring himself to snap at her. They’d been writing back and forth for three years now, with the odd meeting in person when he came to the Green Hollows with his family. 

Every time Esben got a letter, he read it again and again, tucking it into his shirt and carrying it close to his heart. He had one with him even now, although he probably shouldn’t admit that. Nor should he admit that just seeing her again seemed to lift some of the weight from his shoulders, to bring him peace he desperately needed.

He looked at her again, at the way she was gazing at the trees and the ocean before them, the sunlight highlighting her skin. Then again, maybe he should tell her. 

But not now. Not when he’d just lost his father. A twinge of guilt went through Esben. He shouldn’t even be thinking about this right now.

“I’d guess you’re tired of being asked how you are,” Nia said, breaking through his thoughts.

Letting out a low chuckle, Esben admitted, “I’ve gotten a lot of it, yes.”

“I thought so. So then… what do you need?”

Esben glanced at her, surprised, as she continued, “I can leave you be, or we can talk, or I can just keep you company, or I can get Artham out here. And if you need a hug, I’m here.”

A laugh slipped out, despite himself. “You are… incredible.”

“I’m just doing what anyone would do,” Nia said, turning slightly pink.

“No. You’re incredible. Trust me.”

She smiled. “Well, then, are you going to help me in my incredibleness and tell me what you need?”

“Yes, ma’am. I…” Esben hesitated, then said, “I’d take a hug.”

Without hesitating, before he could think better of his words, Nia pulled him gently into a hug. She was warm and smelled like something sweet, and Esben could feel the strain of the day melting away.

“How am I supposed to do this?” he whispered into her hair.

“Take it one day at a time,” she said quietly. “And remember you’re not alone, Esben. You have people who love you, who will support you. Artham, and your mother, and—”

“And you?” he asked, pulling back a little, his heart stuttering a little as he looked at her. It was something else he shouldn’t have said, maybe. But with Nia in his arms, it felt a little like he could topple the world if he needed to.

She smiled at him like the sun rising over the Shining Isle. “And me,” she told him. “Though… I cannot stay long. I’m sorry.”

“I know,” Esben said, taking her hands. “Just hearing your voice for now is enough. I’ll be here at home for a while after the funeral, but… could I come see you, sometime soon? And your family?”

“Please do,” Nia said, and he knew that she understood exactly what he was thinking.Sorrow, he thought, and yet joy. Finally, he thought he understood it.

#the wingfeather saga #SSFHJBDSDGVVJJBBB #BEAUTIFUL

[accidental-spice]

Arachno-Humanoid Poly-Multiverse Earth | @monthly-challenge

#springfling2024 #across the spiderverse #into the spider verse #itsv #atsv #spiderman

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Biblically Accurate Fan

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New rule everyone in the us is assigned a different Bible verse to be theirs. I'm tired of everyone signing their emails off with Joshua 24:15. Some of y'all are going to have to settle for a begat to hang on your wall alongside your "live laugh love" woodcut. Sorry

#1 Chronicles 9: 1

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@monthly-challenge 2024 | Day #12: Purple

#moodboard lockscreen #riyo chuchi #springfling2024 #tbb #the bad batch #tcw #the clone wars #tbb s2 spoilers #tbb s2 #the bad batch spoilers #tbb spoilers

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cal please chill out, you're making it hard to teach

(donation doodles! // tip jar)

#adfjlvujbthhv YES #cal with no k kestis #kanan jarrus #ezra bridger

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OBI-WAN KENOBI (2022) Cinematography by Chung-Hoon Chung

@pscentral event 26: minimalism

#kenobi series

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The discord server did a color palate challenge 👍

#HOLY HECK #GORGEOUS #zeb orrelios #garazeb orrelios #swr