alliepigion - Tumblr blog

[alliepigion]

[alliepigion]

[alliepigion]

i think a lot about how it is such a common experience to withstand our deepest pains and sorrows on our own and never even shed a tear, then, the moment someone offers us comfort, we break down completely

[alliepigion]

[alliepigion]

Autumn is here and spooky season approaches, so I'm going to take a moment and imagine the terror of a fandom world without AO3 in it.

Want to read this fic? Okay, just wait for a quick pre-roll ad first and good luck with reading the story when it finally opens because there are other ads all over the rest of the page. Some of them have sound. All of them are moving or flashing and distracting you from the story.

Want to post a fic? Okay, just make sure it's not too gay or not too kinky and it doesn't address any of the horrors of the real world without wrapping everything up with a cheerful bow and letting the reader know that it all works out in the end.

Oh, you like this story? Such a shame that no one tags anything beyond the ships and characters and now you've been traumatized by a sudden triggering scene that you had no idea was coming.

Congratulations! You've been served a cease-and-desist by: George Lucas, Marion Zimmer Bradley, Anne McCaffrey, FOX, Viacom/Paramount, Anne Rice, JK Rowling/Warner Bros., Mercedes Lackey, Marvel, George R.R. Martin, Diana Gabaldon, and more. And on top of that, there aren't any volunteer lawyers around to help you out of this scrape!

Remember that site you loved to use for your fic? Was it Tripod? FanFiction.net? Gryffindor Tower? FanFiction.net again? Sakura Lemon FanFiction Archive? FanFiction.net again? And again? Quizilla? LiveJournal, twice in one year? GeoCities? Slash Cotillion? FanDomination.Net? GreatestJournal? Delicious? FortuneCity? Tumblr? Wattpad? Well, they decided to delete your fics without telling you. Or they decided to delete your account without warning you. Or the site itself just up and died, taking your content with it. Such a shame.

AO3 isn't perfect, and I don't think anyone out there really thinks that it is. Like everything else in this world, it grows and changes and sometimes the growth is too fast and the change is too slow. But imperfect as it is, it's still so much better than what we had before, and for that I'll always be grateful.

Thank you AO3, and all of the volunteers past and present who make you possible. I couldn't ask for a better "fan-created, fan-run, nonprofit, noncommercial archive for transformative fanworks." ❤

[all of the above links lead to Fanlore articles describing the events, except the GRRM one. That leads to his personal livejournal entry.]

[alliepigion]

“i wish i lived in the country side!”

no u dont. You dont want to have to drive an hour just to get some McDonalds. There is nothing to do here and everyone is racist. My neighbour’s chickens got stolen last week

[alliepigion]

😌✨🌿yea

[alliepigion]

tumblr is a great website because you can post something like "remember to get milk at the store" and someone will reblog it to say OVER MY DEAD BODY. nobody participates quite like a tumblr audience

[alliepigion]

gotta ask, why do you have a tumblr blog as a dude?

the tumblrinas need body guards

[alliepigion]

POST PLUS PROTEST PHASE 2 : 48 Hour Edition

Here we are back again for a 48 hour log off protest of the current version of Post+.

WHEN?

October 2, 2021

12 am Eastern Daylight Time/Atlantic Standard Time

1 am Chile Standard Time/Brazil Time/Argentina Time

4 am UTC

5 am BST/London/West Africa Time/West European Summer Time

6 am Central Europe Time/Central Africa Time

7 am Moscow Standard Time/East Africa Time/Eastern European Summer Time/Arabian Standard Time

8 am Gulf Standard Time

9:30 am Indian Standard Time

11 am Indochina Time

12 pm (Noon) Hong Kong Time/Australian Western Standard Time

1 pm Japan Standard Time/Korean Standard Time

1:30 pm Australian Central Time

2 pm Australian Eastern Standard Time

5 pm New Zealand Daylight Time

October 1, 2021

11 pm Central Time

10 pm Mountain Time

9 pm Pacific Time

8 Alaska Daylight Time

6 pm Hawaii Standard Time

If you don’t see your time zone, or unsure which to use, click HERE for the checker!

We’ll be running countdown posts leading up to the main event!

We’re logging off for 48 hours! So, for example, if you log out on October 2, 2021 at 1pm JST you’ll log back on October 4, 2021 at 1 pm JST!

Also! Our Australian friends, take note that daylight savings/summer time ends in certain territories on October 3rd!

WHY?

Exhibits A, B, C, D, E, F, G

Tumblr recently announced a new feature called Post+ meant to help content creators make money while keeping a cut to help maintain the site. Not a bad idea, right?

The problem is that tumblr actively encouraged the use of Post+ in conjunction with fan works. Which is, despite the way they continue to side step it, highly illegal. Not enough people are aware of that fact.

Our mission is to force tumblr to either rebrand the Post+ feature as something for original content ONLY and/or offer a means to help the site survive outside of monetizing fan work. We want the see tumblr thrive but Post+ has the potential for ruining everything. Give us a better option, @staff ! In fact, HERE are some options!

WHAT ELSE CAN I DO?

Optional avatar and banner to use!

[Image description : a square shaped color gradient image going from purple to blue to cyan to green. A large red prohibition sign overlaid on the words tumblr post+. /End image description]

[Image Description : a tumblr header color gradient image going from purple to blue to cyan to green. On the left side is a red prohibition sign overlaid on the words tumblr Post+. Underneath is the words log off protest in bold letters. On the right side is the words I am logging off for 48 hours. /End image description]

Banner credit to @adairctedgibbgirl ! Thank you!

You can also spread the word on ALL social media (Twitter/TikTok/Facebook/Reddit etc) and reblog this post. You can also look at this post HERE for more ideas. Another option, if you’re using the mobile app, is to leave an honest review (be polite, be concise, don’t spam) on the App Store of your choice! The best and easiest way to protest is DON’T USE POST+!

WILL THIS WORK?

We got tumblr to temporarily hide the original Post+ posts and possibly made wip a thing. So who knows?

ANYTHING ELSE?

Keep checking @postplus-protest for updates and further info, especially updates to this post! Thank you, all of you, for participating or boosting!

Remember to reblog, use the hashtags #postplusprotest and #tumblrlogoff2021, and SPREAD THE WORD TO OTHER SOCIAL MEDIA!

[alliepigion]

hello, twitter user “based delta male”. earlier this week, you tweeted online that the real trap present in the saw movies were the limitations imposed on men by themselves and society. well, you’re wrong. welcome to the chainsaw maze, you fucking redditor

[alliepigion]

[alliepigion]

the actual truth is that i’m loved . like regardless of what i achieve, there are people in my life that see my heart. that’s where fortune is. being seen and being loved. so i am rich in this way.

[alliepigion]

[alliepigion]

[alliepigion]

you have invited strangers into your home, helen pevensie, mother of four.

without the blurred sight of joy and relief, it has become impossible to ignore. all the love inside you cannot keep you from seeing the truth. your children are strangers to you. the country has seen them grow taller, your youngest daughter’s hair much longer than you would have it all years past. their hands have more strength in them, their voices ring with an odd lilt and their eyes—it has become hard to look at them straight on, hasn’t it? your children have changed, helen, and as much as you knew they would grow a little in the time away from you, your children have become strangers.

your youngest sings songs you do not know in a language that makes your chest twist in odd ways. you watch her dance in floating steps, bare feet barely touching the dewy grass. when you try and make her wear her sister’s old shoes—growing out of her own faster than you think she ought to—, she looks at you as though you are the child instead of her. her fingers brush leaves with tenderness, and you swear your daughter’s gentle hum makes the drooping plant stand taller than before. you follow her eager leaps to her siblings, her enthusiasm the only thing you still recognise from before the country. yet, she laughs strangely, no longer the giggling girl she used to be but free in a way you have never seen. her smile can drop so fast now, her now-old eyes can turn distant and glassy, and her tears, now rarer, are always silent. it scares you to wonder what robbed her of the heaving sobs a child ought to make use of in the face of upset.

your other daughter—older than your youngest yet still at an age that she cannot be anything but a child—smiles with all the knowledge in the world sitting in the corner of her mouth. her voice is even, without all traces of the desperate importance her peers carry still, that she used to fill her siblings’ ears with at all hours of the day. she folds her hands in her lap with patience and soothes the ache of war in your mind before you even realise she has started speaking. you watch her curl her hair with careful, steady fingers and a straight back, her words a melody as she tells your eldest which move to make without so much a glance at the board off to her right. she reads still, and what a relief you find this sliver of normalcy, even if she’s started taking notes in a shorthand you couldn’t even think to decipher. even if you feel her slipping away, now more like one of the young, confident women in town than a child desperately wishing for a mother’s approval.

your younger son reads plenty as well these days, and it fills you with pride. he is quiet now, sitting still when you find him bent over a book in the armchair of his father. he looks at you with eyes too knowing for a petulant child on the cusp of puberty, and no longer beats his fists against the furniture when one of his siblings dares approach him. he has settled, you realise one evening when you walk into the living room and find him writing in a looping script you don’t recognise, so different from the scratched signature he carved into the doors of your pantry barely a year ago. he speaks sense to your youngest and eldest, respects their contributions without jest. you watch your two middle children pass a book back and forth, each a pen in hand and sheets of paper bridging the gap between them, his face opening up with a smile rather than a scowl. it freezes you mid-step to find such simple joy in him. remember when you sent them away, helen, and how long it had been since he allowed you to see a smile then?

your eldest doesn’t sleep anymore. none of your children care much for bedtimes these days, but at least sleep still finds them. it’s not restful, you know it from the startled yelps that fill the house each night, but they sleep. your eldest makes sure of it. you have not slept through a night since the war began, so it’s easy to discover the way he wanders the halls like a ghost, silent and persistent in a duty he carries with pride. each door is opened, your children soothed before you can even think to make your own way to their beds. his voice sounds deeper than it used to, deeper still than you think possible for a child his age and size. then again, you are never sure if the notches on his door frame are an accurate way to measure whatever it is that makes you feel like your eldest has grown beyond your reach. you watch him open doors, soothe your children, spend his nights in the kitchen, his hands wrapped around a cup of tea with a weariness not even the war should bring to him, not after all the effort you put into keeping him safe.

your children mostly talk to each other now, in a whispered privacy you cannot hope to be a part of. their arms no longer fit around your waist. your daughters are wilder—even your older one, as she carries herself like royalty, has grown teeth too sharp for polite society— and they no longer lean into your hands. your sons are broad-shouldered even before their shirts start being too small again, filling up space you never thought was up for taking. your eldest doesn’t sleep, your middle children take notes when politicians speak on the wireless and shake their heads as though they know better, and your youngest sings for hours in your garden.

who are your children now, helen pevensie, and who pried their childhood out of your shaking hands?