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unadulteratedkr · 9 months ago

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~Let's talk about credit~

(not financial credit trust me you don't want to take financial advice from me lol)

No, today I am inviting y'all to the table to talk about the importance of crediting other creators in fandom!

Because, listen. We don't have a peer-review system. We don't have to submit our stuff to a plagiarism checker or go through stringent editing when shitposting on tumblr; we operate in an honor system of crafting folklore using our favorite blorbos, and that means that inspiration and using the specific words and images from canon creates a grey area on what ought to be credited, and how to do it in a way that creates a solid, strong community.

Here's a little of my philosophy and how I give proper credit where it's due, so I figured I'd share them to hopefully encourage others in making sure no one out there ends up becoming fandom's James Somerton

1. Links are your friends, use them enthusiastically

Drooled over a gifset that made you write a poem? Read a fic that made you pull out your embroidery hoop? Saw some art that made you write a song? Link to the original! Tag the original artist, hyperlink to the giffer, share the fic via the amazing shortcut button on Ao3, it's what those creators deserve! Even if it's a shitpost, that creator is where your idea started, and it's the right thing to do to share directly where your audience can connect with the person who inspired you.

This holds INFINITELY true if you are directly quoting someone. If you've used someone else's words to create your own work, link back to the original. No one wants to be sent a fic or a funny post on tumblr and then feel the sinking pit in their stomach when they realize that post is their own words with someone else's name on them.

2. Ask for permission when you can

Now, the reason I threw the addendum on this with "when you can" is because knowing when to ask for permission is more of an art versus a science. I myself have written more than one fic inspired by art where I didn't reach out to the artist before I shared the fic because I had no contact with them (the joys of me refusing to touch the garbage that is the bird site). BUT this is why point number one is to always link back to the original inspiration, because I believe that should always be the bare minimum.

THAT BEING SAID.

If you have a way of contacting the original fellow fandom person who inspired you? Reach out and ask them if they'd feel comfortable with you creating something! 999 times out of 1000, they're gonna be over the MOON you want to create something inspired by what they made, and they'll be really fucking pleased you reached out to check.

3. Ask yourself: is this a "two cakes" situation or am I putting my name on someone else's cake?

This is another one that can absolutely fall into a bit of a grey area. I have written many a fic that started out with me reading a take or a fic that went in a WILDLY different direction from what I was expecting or wanted, and I went "okay, fuck it. I'll write my own." And that's absolutely been a great motivator for me to start a project!

HOWEVER.

That is me creating a different flavor of cake, putting my own frosting on it, and probably adding something weird like lemon zest and instant coffee for a lemonade cappucino chiffon that shouldn't work (but definitely does, trust me)

If I were to have read a fic or a take and then gone, "Oh, yeah, definintely, here's the same idea but now I've rephrased it juuust a little and now it's under MY username on my blog".... that's slapping a different color of frosting on the same cake and claiming it's mine. If you find yourself doing that, I really invite you to pause and consider why you felt the need to do so instead of sharing the original post.

Like, not to bring Shakespeare into it (they say, poorly concealing their icon), but fandom can be exactly like how Juliet views love. Sharing joy in what others have created absolutely can be as "boundless as the sea [...] the more I give [...], the more I have, for both are infinite". It does not take away from the joy your fellow fandom friends will have in your own original work to share the work of others.

4. Hyping up your inspiration is FUN

Finally, this is more of me going "no really, proper credit isn't going to mean people love YOU less" because I truly believe in the power of how much FUN it really is to give credit where it's due. I was buzzing for WEEKS in anticipation of publishing Objection! and The 'I Duoy' Newlywed Special because the marvelous @jackuntiljune had brainstromed with me on the name for the boat my boys eloped on. And I get so fucking giddy when I see someone comment on those fics about the name of the boat because I get to take a giant breath and go "MY FRIEND JACK CAME UP WITH IT, AREN'T THEY AMAZING?!"

If you practice giving credit where it's due, I promise promise PROMISE it will become a joy. It's FUN getting to bring more people into the sandbox to play, and I know I love it when there's more than one person out there I can yell at (affectionate) when I've been emotionally destroyed (again, affectionate) by a gifset or art or fic <3

Thanks so much for reading this far! I can't wait to keep sharing inspiration with all of you out there

#fandom life #fandom #credit

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joelletwo · 1 year ago

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notes on TIME. themselves now benoted and referenced out appropriately. much of them just banger quotes from the essay

kintoki (tokiko) (placeholder thought during the swords intro that inherently set up a link between time and castration to me bc i have spent weeks thinking about the meaning of kintoki as the noncastrated ideal/the imposter as such as his prosthetic appearance in mantama) (u may notice thats the same youtuber who did the Comedy video i linked ages ago. i have been getting much mileage out of him.) sword castration - "dispossession disrupts temporality."

takasugicentrism "Takasugi is driving the time loop." (i did talk about this in the tags.)

(everyone else finds ways to move on but gintoki hates to leave ppl behind.

does gintoki respect ppls agency. yes with otose shouyou takasugi. no with all his antagonists and other ppl who want to die? <- still unsure

gintoki simultaneously the witnesserrrrrrr (unacting observer or unflinching observer past where action can help him save someone) and the forgetterrrrrr (sop animation) gintoki doesnt have goals of his own (didnt fight to protect the country but everywhere his sword reaches is his country) (literally just vibing) (this one written at the end of the essay but i was still trying to do the same thing as this section. figure out the gintoki-side of why utsuro-sugi fill the other driving half of the manga. why are they that for him. what ARE gintokis motivations. and do we EVER see his interiority.)

progress/movement in personal time needs personal integration.

(divisibility disproves infinity of personal time; indivisibility in kile ouroboros sense of a perfectly integrated I = noncastrated impossible ideal of infinite personal time?) (post-note: perfectly integrated and indivisible and questionably possible I = line?)

(utsuro resists (could hyperlink the kintoki post again) integration/external impregnation; flip side, shouyou welcomes impregnation but cannot satisfyingly access its results; psychoanal mother 0-1 (from this video)? more gintama preoccupation w the possibility of mtf transitioning?))

when it is fished (unwillingly, I think) out of Takasugi’s eyelid. narrative time cannot move until Takasugi’s eye becomes Gintoki’s sword

(gintoki/takasugi pov [later swapped with shouyou/utsuro pov]) (again my eternal question. why do we get takasugi pov thoughts so many times. and do we ever get gintokis. and what the hell does that mean (evil things). i dont remember what i mean about shouyoutsuro. thinking that any time we see shouyou outside of a shouka sonjuku flashback is more about what utsuro thinks about shouyou than about shouyou? definitely about the final swapping and their weird four-way identity crisis math thing)

Thus half of the loop is about Gintoki always standing up again, always waiting for Takasugi to face him, and the other half of the loop, that is, its motivation, is about Takasugi working up the guts, or whatever he does throughout the series, to finally come at Gintoki* face to face. Gintama doesn’t actually timeskip until Gintoki kills Utsuro in silver soul. Birthing time looks like an escape from the time loop.

(ouro self-fertilization = the way out of ouro [THEORETICALLY])

(cyclical time is measurable -> iterable/buildable)

[koizumi time diagram (not the post but the comment)] <- not actually useful here just my landmark for characters engaging with their own story's fucked up experience of time and getting fun and mathy with it. nonperfectly coherent/stable timeloop with two phases self-satisfiedly diagrams out to linear time briefly intersected by an infinity sign which ive always wanted to use as a model for mapping out more complicated time stories

narrative time twists into defeatist cycles intentionality versus ruination, “I” as capable actor versus “I” as acted upon I cannot act, and yet it acts on me. My despair at the exterior world which rivets me to itself quickly translates to despair in, at, my self. his loss is even more infinite for the narrowness of its scope mathematically irrational (x(sin(1/x))) <- WHOA

part where i basically stopped taking notes and enjoyed the ride lol

(sakamoto "hope" argument -> i have used sakamoto before (very very ending letter monologue abt miracles) as the mouthpiece for gintama merging two paradoxical ideas (idealist pov and materialist pov) to reinforce each other rather than to disprove)

#sopping wet gintoki posting #jr readings

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highlordrhysie · 8 years ago

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The high lady and the Suriel

So I had a sudden inspiration and decided to write a part 2 to my other fic ‘the highlord and the Suriel’ and there should also be a part 3 coming out at some point as well! The highlord and the Suriel can be found by searching the tags as I use the app so unfortunately can’t link things with hyperlinks! Hope you enjoy! ( @something-called-sno I thought you might want to be tagged in this one as well seen as it’s the sequel to the one inspired by your post :D)

~ I knew where my mate was with ought even looking. The sensation of being able to feel him through the bond was a comfort I’d grown accustomed to over the last few years, the way emotions and thoughts flowed between us as easily breathing. To imagine my life with ought it now seemed cold and barren, like the winter of a snow covered forest. I felt a returning tug from the other end of the thread and I followed it up to the roof of the town house. Ever since Elain had been around the small garden had exploded with colour, becoming the paradise of vines and flowers in which Rhys now slouched. Wings on full display he had them draped over the back of the bench and was gazing out across Velaris, the horizon turned a warm, radiant orange by the setting sun. The light chiffon of my skirt hissed against the stone as I crossed the path towards him, navigating around the delicate membranes of his wings, before joining him on the bench. Rhys wrapped his arm around me and I rested my head on his shoulder, both of us content with simply enjoying each others company. I sighed, savouring the moment of peace and the view of the city laid out before me. The sight of it never failed to amaze me, especially from above where it’s sprawling mass seemed to merge with the mountains and become one in its embrace. I looked to the male sat beside me and my heart swelled with an overpowering sense of love, because all that joy was down to him. Given life by the many sacrifices he’d made all those years ago. “ I don’t understand what I’m doing wrong Feyre” he sighed, pushing a hand through his hair, leaving it ruffled “Why can’t the bastards just do what they’re told and train the females. We’ve tried everything and yet they still defy me, still treat the females as little more than staff”. Sadness and frustration drifted down the bond and I realised that’s what I’d been feeling these past few days, echoing in the background. “ and that Lord, I shouldn’t have-”

“ hey, stop, look at me Rhys” I cut him off, twisting so that I could face him. He turned towards me and saw the guilt written across his features and it killed me to see how it filled those violet eyes.

Today had been particularly hard on him, on us both. We had winnowed into one of the most rebellious camps and found that one of the Lords there had been secretly clipping the wings of Illyrian females who tried to train. The sight of those poor women, the tears on their faces as they lay in that dingy, make-shift recovery unit made me want to rip the man to shreds. And I would have, I realised. Would have killed him myself, but the moment that foul male entered Rhys’s fury had erupted, leaving the lord as little more than a pile of dust on the floor. I cupped his face in my hand, brushing a thumb over his cheek. “ none of that is your fault. That Lord sealed his fate the moment he disregarded your orders and those females rights” I dropped my hand from his face and used it to intertwine our fingers “ besides, if you hadn’t misted him, either Azriel or I would have found a way to get our hands on him and believe me, the pieces he ended up in then would have been a lot less pleasant than the one you left him in!” Triumph lighted through me as his lips twirled upwards and he nodded slowly, though I could tell he didn’t quite believe me. Something hardened in me then, my love and emotion cementing into a deep determination. I could not let this continue, I had to act. For my mate and for the people who could not do it themselves.

The next morning I did what I’d never manage to achieve before. I woke up before my mate. Just as I’d asked her to do Nuala gently shook me awake, handing me a satchel of food and a pile of warm clothing of which I quickly changed into, before pulling open my wardrobe and assessing the fine dresses within. After a moments debate I picked a light gauzy thing I’d hardly worn in the last year and folded it in among the food. “Tell Rhys where i am when he wakes, he’ll be worried, but will hopefully understand enough not to come looking for me” I whispered to Nuala once downstairs. She nodded and with that I stepped away, winnowing from the town house and into the forest. The home and domain of the Suriel.

During the time Rhys had spent trying to catch the Suriel, I had become very familiar with the small part of the forest in which he’d been sure the Suriel lived. To be honest, he hadn’t been far wrong; the only thing he’d underestimated was the wicked intelligence of the Suriel itself. Knowing I could likely be waiting for a while I dragged a stray log over to a mossy patch of ground to use as a back rest and arranged the dress I’d packed neatly a small distance away, placing it so the fabric glittered in the small ray of sunlight filtering through trees. I became very glad for the small comfort of that log during the hours that followed. Every bone in my body ached from sitting so still for so long and it was only those years of hunting in the cold mortal forests that kept me from giving up or loosing my mind to the boredom. The sun had long since passed its meridian when I finally heard a stirring in the foliage near by. All my senses snapped to attention and I listened, taking in every slight rustle and whisper around me as I searched for that one truly distinct sound. Yes, there it was, the subtle clicking of bone fingers tapping together. No other creature made that sound. “ Suriel, I know you’re there” I stayed seated, but my eyes scanned the clearings edge. “ I’ve brought you a gift” I looked away for a moment, just long enough to check the trees behind me for movement. When I turned back the Suriel was stood in front of me, my dress clutched in its bony hands. “ I accept your gift highlady, what knowledge is it that you seek today?” It’s voice was dry and filled with echoes that even after meeting many times before still set bumps along my skin. Unlike that first time though, I’d did not fear it anymore, in fact it even made me smile to see how it’s precious gowns had grown more elaborate with every meeting. “ I want to know how to make the Illyrian lords see sense in the training of females; how to make them respect them and start treating females as their equals.” I’d had all day to come up with the exact phrasing of my question. You never knew how much detail a Suriel would be willing to divulge, so choosing the right words was extremely important. I blinked in surprise as in a strangely elegant movement the Suriel sat down, laying the dress gently over its legs. Black, unearthly eyes met mine from within the shadows of its hood. “ two things must be done highlady, the first is that the females must be given their own space, away from the males so that they can grow confident in themselves,” it twirled the light chiffon between the fingers of one hand, the other tapping away to the rhythm of its words. “ and the second is that the Illyrian lords must be bested, by you highlady. You must fight and beat every single one of them” My eyes widened. I’d never thought of doing either of those things. It seemed such a huge task, especially remembering how well all those males fought, because as much as I disdained them I had to admit they were pretty damn good. But so was I. “Why does it have to be me?” I asked, but it seemed my allowance had run out. “ Do as I say highlady and you will see why for yourself” it replied, clambering back to its feet. A wind blew through as it did, stirring up the silk of its gown and my mouth dropped open, because in that brief moment I caught a definite glimpse of a some very familiar pieces of black lace. Id never thought to wonder, after Rhys had returned, which of the items laid out for it the Suriel had chosen. It seemed we had more similar taste than I’d thought. Suriel glared at me as I made a pathetic attempt to smother my smile then quickly adjusted its gown before disappearing back into the forest. ~

The closed fist came at me faster than any human punch ever could, but I ducked and it whistled past my ear instead of connecting with my face. My breathing was coming fast and so was that of my opponent but everything else around me was silence, my focus narrowed only upon this fight. I feigned left, but threw my punch upwards instead and felt a stab of pain as my fist met his jaw with all my immortal strength. He wobbled, but a flare of his wings and he was balanced again. In that I was at a disadvantage, but over the past few weeks of vigorous training I had learnt a thing or two about wings and with every Lord who came forward to face me I found a new way to use them against them. A new way to make my statement. The last one had gone down with a punch to just the right spot of muscle. The one before, a distracting scratch of a nail along the membrane and this time… meeting my opponents eyes I smirked just before dancing around him and locking my hands onto his wings. And then I pulled downwards, evoking a roar of pain from him as I used the momentum to propel myself up onto his shoulders. He tried to shake me off, but it was far too late. I locked my legs around his neck and leaned all my weight back. The great Fae male toppled under me, roaring even louder with outrage as I skipped out of the way and ended up stood on his chest. Cheers rose up from the people stood around the ring, Mor the loudest, her blonde curls bouncing as she waved. I smiled and waved back. Rhys wasn’t there, I’d refused to let him come and thankfully he had obeyed. Reaching out I offered the lord my hand to help him up and he made to bat it away, but I growled and held it in a bone crushing grip. “ you might be a Lord, but I am your highlady and when I offer you my hand you will take it”. The words were barely audible, but they must have hit their mark because something flickered in his eyes and he begrudgingly accepted my help. As he left the ring I took the opportunity to look at the people gathered to watch and smiled. All around stood females, Illyrian women, some in dresses or smocks and dotted through ought I was pleased to note the dark flash of scaled armour among them. Over the hours I had been fighting they had slowly begun to trickle out from where ever it was they’d been working; growing ever bolder as more and more of their kin came out to watch. They cheered with every opponent I took down and I was sure it was pride I saw smouldering in their eyes as I smiled towards the crowd. “ stop lazing around and get back to your work!” My smile faded as I pivoted towards the voice and found the Lord I’d just beaten snarling at the group of females nearest the rings edge. I took a step forward and saw Mor do the same, but something in the way those females glared at him made me motion for her to stop. “ No” A few gasps echoed around as the dark haired female spoke, her hands fisted at the sides of her filthy apron. “ excuse me, what did you just say?” The lords voice was a growl as he leaned forward until he was nose to nose with the brave female. I expected to see her quail and flinch away from the force of the male dominance radiating from him, but she did no such thing. “ I said no. I will not, because I’m not your slave and I wish to train as the high lord and lady have requested”, then with that she ducked under his arm. She headed towards the ring, but he grabbed her violently by the arm and hauled her back. There was a blur of movement followed by the thud of a fist meeting bone before the Lord dropped to a heap on the floor. Someone swore and my gaze snapped away from him and landed on another female who was shaking out her hand, the knuckles raw and bloody. She was one of the few wearing fighting leathers and that single punch had been enough to knock a full grown male out cold. Her eyes shifted up to me, wide with shock as if she couldn’t quite believe what she’d done and that’s when I realised, realised that this had never been about scaring the males. No, it was to inspire the females. To make them want to fight. A sly smile played across my lips as I extended a hand to both of the females who had defended themselves and said: “ Come, your training starts now”.

#the suriel #my fanfiction #fanfic #sorry about the rubbish paragraphing!#Illyrian equality

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