#and i am offering no citations | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pink-tea · 1 year

Text

dumb blonde

☆ pairing: choi soobin x gn! reader

☆ nsfw, 18+

☆ word count: 4.1k (this number was honestly a jumpscare when i checked)

☆ sub! soobin, blonde! soobin, college au!, soobin with glasses <3, dumb blonde soobin, dom! reader, gender neutral pronouns but reader is afab at the time of smut, slut shaming, use of the word "bunny" once or twice, use of the word "slut", praise/degradation kink, nipple play

☆ the smart blonde has kept your attention this entire semester, but it isn't until your friend, yeonjun, offers you up to tutor his friend from work that you realize that really he's just a dumb blonde

you had always thought that the blonde boy in your class had a good head on his shoulders. always in the back of the lecture hall, either staring at his laptop screen or boredly looking through the assigned pages of whatever textbook you were currently reading. always the first one to turn in tests and quizzes, you secretly admired your classmate as he left the room before anyone else.

‘he must be really smart’ you would always think to yourself before spending almost the entire class time to fill out your tests. whatever method works best though, you always got one of the top scores in the class. it felt good, but you’re sure it would’ve felt better had you been able to finish a test within the first 20 minutes and get the same grade.

you never really checked or pressed about the scores of your other classmates—really only keeping in touch with two of them anyways—but you had always been sure that the blonde (used to be black haired) boy had done good. and it stayed that way until the first semester was well on its way to being over and finals were starting to plague the student body.

“[your nameeeee],” a voice cut through your thoughts, causing you to turn around and raise a brow at your older, pink haired friend.

choi yeonjun was practically a campus heartthrob, with pretty plump lips and irresistible, charismatic charm. you were well aware of that fact all the way up to when the two of you were paired together for a project, where you had almost cost the two of you ten points for forgetting to correctly cite your evidence on a slide of your presentation. you didn’t even get to apologize, promising to finish the slide an hour before the 11:59pm due date before you were on the phone with a hissy pretty boy who had pressed all the right buttons to get the stress you had been building up to burst.

the call had ended with the two of you calmed but still bitter, silently glaring at each other’s icons on the same slide as you shared the citation work load, and with a newfound respect for each other. you walked into your lecture the next morning with choi yeonjun holding an iced cup of coffee to you, a silent peace offering. you had smiled and promised to pay for the next one, and ended up leaving the class with a newfound friendship that had many people jealous of your proximity to the otherwise nerve-wracking boy.

thus, your current predicament, sifting through an otherwise empty library with your friend as you attempted to scavenge for any research material at close to 10pm at night. yeonjun came to accompany you after originally crashing your dorm to have fun and play on your switch before realizing you actually had work to do.

“yes?” you responded mindlessly, running a finger across the lightly worn spines of the books, worn more by age than actual use.

“you’re smart,” he started, prompting you to look at him suspiciously out of the corner of your eye.

“yes, you are too,” you hummed, not mad at the praise but more concerned as to why your friend was suddenly pulling compliments out of thin air. your gut told you one thing and one thing only: he needed a favor.

“i am,” he chuckled in agreement, prompting you to snort at his show of ego. “however, you, have more free time than I do,” he pointed out, which definitely made your suspicions start to rise.

“just because you do a shit ton of modeling doesn’t mean I have more time to spare,” you shoot back, growing more concerned at the fact that this started to sound a lot like a time consuming favor. he rolls his eyes at your words, mouth opening up to most likely throw a (light hearted) insult your way before he closes it.

fuck, he definitely needed a favor if he wasn't back talking.

"just spit it out already, i know you want something," you huff, perking up at the sight of the crusty textbook you had been looking for. you reached out and grabbed it from where it was smashed between two equally crusty books. you held it in your hand and opened to the title page, wincing at the audible crackle of the spine.

you could hear the eye roll you received, but yeonjun happily took the invitation to cut to the chase.

"one of my coworkers goes here too, and he helped get me my current gig since he knows the photographer," he explained, pausing to laugh at the way you coughed when dust flew into your face after flipping the next few pages. "but the thing is, he's a little stupid," he said bluntly, causing you to chuckle.

"poor bastard," you hummed, closing the book and tucking it into the duffle bag you were carrying with you.

"extremely poor, he's gonna fail the semester if he doesn't get a good grade on his final, which is why i need you to help tutor him," your friend finally finished, causing you to pause in your tracks before sharply glaring up at him.

"an unpaid tutor? are you serious?" you hissed.

"it's just until he gets a good grade on his final! look, i promised and i can pay you back for him," he reassured, pouting at the harshness of your glare. you groaned audibly before turning and beginning to walk away, causing yeonjun to quickly start talking again. "hey, look, it could be worse! he's a total cutie, so at least you get to tutor eye candy!" he tried to persuade, causing you to let out a scoff.

"junnie, you act like i'm gonna be fucking the guy more than i'm gonna be tutoring him," you deadpanned, causing a cheshire grin to spread on the pinkette's naturally pouty lips.

"who says you can't do both?"

now you wish you had never listened to this asshole and his promise to buy you takeout whenever you wanted till you finished tutoring his friend. because yes, his friend soobin, was in fact the greatest 6'1 piece of eye candy you ever seen. but he also seemed to share the same black framed glasses and blonde hair as the boy you had been fixated on for the past semester.

"ah," you let the sound slip past your mouth before you could even register it. probably less than a few centimeters away from knocking his head into your doorway stood the model your friend had been talking about. surprise not surprise, he was most definitely the guy from your class.

it took a few more seconds of gawking and the guy doing his best not to look too uncomfortable under your stare for you to snap out of it. "you're choi soobin?" you asked, tilting your head. he nodded hesitantly in response.

"[your name] [last name]," you introduced, watching almost in a trance as a shy smile crawled onto his lips.

"i know," he responded, causing your eyes to widen and your heart to flutter at his boldness. he seemed to catch on to what his words might sound like, eyes quickly widening in panic. "y-yeonjun! he's mentioned you before!" he added, ears burning.

you stared a second longer before smiling, stepping aside to let him into your dorm. "only good things i hope, but knowing yeonjun that probably isn't the case," you joked, watching soobin as he chuckled at your remark and stepped in. you couldn't help but just watch.

god he was cute...

...but damn did studying suck!

after an hour of what felt like running in a circle trying to teach this boy simple concepts that he should've learned like two years ago, you soon found yourself growing frustrated. sighing irritably in a way that had soobin flinching, you tried to put down your erasable pen as gently as you could without slamming it down onto your desk.

"if you're struggling this much with the current coursework, how the actual fuck have you been turning in your shit so quickly in class?" you huffed, patience already thin enough to where you were openly swearing to someone who was practically a stranger.

soobin visibly flinched this time, lips twisting into a sort of grimace/pout as his fingers wrung together. "i usually just guess...most of the homeworks and partner projects lift up my grade," he admits guiltily, quickly shattering whatever ideals you used to have of him in just one sentence/study session.

you laugh in disbelief, looking over his guilty expression as he sits in one of your spare chairs. "so what, you let people carry you through your classes and projects just cause they think you're pretty?" you shoot, soobin's eyes quickly flickering up at you through his lenses.

"what? don't tell me you think people actually help you cause they're nice," you ask in shock, the blonde shaking his head as his gaze drops back down to his lap.

"no, it's just, i didn't think you thought i was pretty too," he admitted softly, making your eyebrows almost shoot up past your hair line. ain't no fucking way.

"seeing that you can't even get 4 questions right, you've gotta be pretty for how much of a dumb blonde you are," you immediately scold, testing the waters to see if you're getting the right signals. soobin seems to shrink even more in his seat, fists curled in his lap as he lets his head drop along with his gaze. the angle lets you observe the soft red beginning to dust the tip of his ears.

"m' sorry," he whispers, the motion of his thighs squeezing together doesn't go unnoticed by you. in a bold move, you slide into his space, forcing your knee in between his and drinking in the startled mewl that rips from his throat at the aggressive motion. he looks up at you again, eyes wide and pupils dilated.

his lips are parted, you swear you can see them tremble a little bit and you don't fight any of your previous urges to touch the pathetic boy. smiling at his state, you press your thumb into his bottom lip, grabbing and tilting his chin up in the process. he gasps, letting his mouth drop open to let your thumb slide on top of his tongue.

it's wet and you bet it wouldn't take more than a few seconds for saliva to start dripping down your knuckle. pressing down on the pink muscle, you tilt your head down at soobin's slightly hunched figure. "you said you're sorry?" you ask, pressing your thumb down so hard that soobin almost has to fight the urge to swallow around it.

instead he nods hesitantly, eyes wide and watery as his glasses start to slip down the pretty bridge of his nose. you almost grin at the action, watching the saliva finally side down soobin's pink lips. removing your thumb, you take the drenched digit and wipe it across his cheek, pressing it hard enough against his skin for his head to turn a little.

he only has the time to close his mouth and swallow the saliva pooling in his mouth before he yelps at the sudden feeling of your hand in his dyed hair. soobin watches your smile turn into something cruel, feels his dick get harder in his suddenly too-tight jeans when he realizes you must think he looks completely at your mercy like this.

"do you even need these?" you huff, reaching to swipe his glasses off his face, making him flinch as you dangle them between your fingers. "i bet they're just for show huh, doing your best to not let anyone know how much of a stupid bunny you are," you accuse.

soobin's mouth opens like he's about to defend himself before it closes and his head droops in your hold, face burning brighter. "t-they're just for looks," he admits, the fact more humiliating than it should be. he should defend himself, bring up the fact that tons of people use non-prescription lenses for fashion, but his mind is still reeling from getting called a stupid bunny.

you do nothing to help, only giving him a short and disbelieving laugh before you're yanking his head back up to look at you. "hey," you call out for his attention, locking your gaze with his in a way that makes him want to squirm. "hurry up and get on the bed if you're really sorry for wasting my time," you say, tossing soobin's glasses to some unknown corner of your room as the gears turn in his head.

he's still frozen to his chair even after you release his hair from your hold, and you harshly nudge his growing bulge with the knee stuck between his legs. the impact makes him fight back a groan as he yolts, looking up at your glare with unmistakable puppy eyes.

"come on," you rush, watching as soobin immediately snaps back into reality and starts to stumble over himself to get up and on the bed. you want to coo at his eagerness, but suddenly grab his wrist as he begins to walk over to your mattress on wobbly legs.

"get naked first," you instruct, releasing your hold on his wrist. "and do it slow, right here," you hum, leaning back into your chair as you watch soobin's face grow pink in humiliation.

"like a strip tease?" he asks barely above a mumble, obviously mortified at the idea.

you laugh at his quivering voice, smiling and nodding eagerly. "mhm," you confirm, taking in his shifty nature and downcast eyes. "don't tell me you've never done one before," you accuse, suddenly looking at him through squinted eyes.

he quickly shakes his head, shaky fingers reaching up to grasp at the ends of hoodie. he keeps them there for a few beats before looking back up at you, hesitant. "s-slowly?" he asks.

this time you can't help but coo, fawning over how shy yet eager to please he is. "slowly," you nod.

soobin gulps before slowly beginning to take the gray piece of clothing off, revealing a delicious stomach that was lean yet slightly toned. as a model, obviously he'd have a pretty face and nice figure. your fingers twitch at your side as he starts to slowly uncover more of his torso, horribly aware of the daggers your stare is burying into his skin.

it's only when the end of the hoodie starts to slip over his nipples that you feel your initial plan to have himself strip crumble. you needed him under your fingers, in your mouth, gasping on your tongue. you stand up and start to close the small distance between you two, making him flinch and start to lower the fabric in his hands.

roughly, you grab the end of hoodie and tug it up past his nipples, making him gasp. holding it to his mouth, it only takes your voice to snap soobin out of his initial confusion. "hold this," you demand, looking at him with a look so predatory he can do nothing but swallow his saliva and close his pretty lips over it.

"good boy," you hum, now using both your hands to trail up from his v-line to his stomach. "knows just what to do, doesn't he?" you ask, raking your fingernails over the sensitive skin of his stomach as he looks down at you.

your gaze flickers up to meet his.

"answer."

soobin nods sporadically, catching the way his mind begins to slip as you fingers trail higher to his hardened nipples. you smile and the boy can only watch as you place your thumbs on your tongue one by one, slicking them up with saliva before putting the pressure on the pink buds. he jolts at both the feeling and the temperature, the saliva immediately catching on the blowing a.c. in your room.

he lets out a muffled moan at the feeling of your thumbs slowly rolling over his nipples, almost releasing the hoodie in his mouth when you add your mouth to kiss between the valley of his pecs. your sweet butterfly kisses trail lower and lower, your hands following down the minimal curves of his side as you go.

it's at this point that soobin realizes he doesn't know what the fuck to do with his hands, keeping them clenched tight next to him as he tries to refrain from touching you. he can't, however, restrain the full body jolt and muffled cry he releases as your lips press nicely against the hardened bulge within his jeans.

you take your fingers to unbutton them and pull down the zipper, the denim falling to the floor around him as you eye the obvious stain of precum against his calvin klein boxers. you don't give him any warning, almost causing him to cry out again as your hand slips into his underwear to tug his weeping cock out.

he's shaking by now, doing his best to hold himself up on wobbly legs as you lazily pump his erection. "pretty," you comment, admiring the flushed pink tip. "i guess everything about you is pretty," you comment off-handedly, making soobin's ears flush red before he throws his head back in pleasured agony.

harshly, you suck on the flushed tip, licking over the head to clean the precum seeping through his slit. you know he's fully expecting a blow job at this point, but with this you get off him with a cute 'pop' and tug his boxers down to meet his jeans.

standing up, you yank the sopping fabric out of his mouth, tugging the hoodie over his head and through his arms while all he can do is follow your movements. his last piece of clothing drops to the ground, and you give a happy hum as you look him over. pretty.

"bed," you say, and soon you have the 6'1 blonde laying down flat on your sheets as you look down at him.

you'd like to give him a strip tease in return, but the sight of him is so delicious that it gives you the patience of a starved man. soobin doesn't seem to mind, however, hazy eyes following your every move as you remove your clothes. when you get to your underwear, you pause at the thought of shoving them into his mouth as you ruin him.

one look at his pouted lips changes your mind; you want to hear every sound he makes.

"where do you want me?" you ask him, patiently waiting through the four seconds it takes him to form a response.

"on top," he admits finally, his fingers now finding themselves tangling in your now wrinkled sheets.

"on top?" you ask, taking your time as settle your naked figure on top of him. only, you settle just a few centimeters short of his chest, making him whine in protest. the weight of your body on him feels so good that he almost forgets to breathe, but this isn't what he asked for.

"what?" you ask, cupping his face as his lips twist into a clearly displeased frown. "is this not where you want me?" you tilt your head in curiosity, but your eyes clearly show how much you're enjoying it.

"i want- i want you lower," he confesses, brows furrowed and hands twitching as he fights the urge to grip your waist and slide you onto his cock himself. but soobin isn't a bad boy. he's your pretty little blonde angel and he knows better than to make you mad.

"lower?" you hum, making soobin's head drop onto the sheets underneath him as you slide your wet pussy down his chest and onto his abs. he can feel everything. he can feel you throbbing on top of him, but one look at your collected face makes him almost cry in frustration. you know where he wants you, you want him there too, but you're just being so so mean.

"[your name]," he nearly begs, eyes watering up as you look at him through your lashes.

"what's wrong now, tell me," you hush, sliding your hands down from his face in order to roll his pink nipples under your thumb once more, causing him to jolt underneath you. so cute, so sensitive. "tell me what you want," you urge, and soobin knows he has to be specific.

"i want you on my cock, please," he sobs, curling his fists tighter around your bed sheets. you smile down at him, feeling the words go straight to your clit. you know he can feel it too.

"how bad do you want it?" you ask finally, taking in soobin's borderline heartbroken expression at the question. but you're pleasantly surprised at the tears that start to slip down his cheeks.

"please please please, i want it! i need you around me, please!" he sobs, his puppy eyes going into full affect as he lightly thrashes in his attempt to lean up to get closer to you.

you stay silent for a few moments, eyes taking in the sight before you shrug. "can't say no to that, now can i?" you wonder aloud, finally grabbing his pulsing dick and sliding down on top.

you both groan at the same time, and when soobin shuts his eyes, you notice the stars in his eyes once he opens them back up.

you set a sweet pace, rolling your hips against his pelvis to get the both of you used to the feeling. you sigh in content, feeling pleasantly stuffed as you press your hands down on his chest for leverage.

"my dumb little blonde takes pussy so well," you coo, feeling soobin's hips stutter under you at the praise. "i bet he gets all his experience from letting any tutor fuck his dumb brain right," you add on, feeling his dick twitch inside your walls as he pouts.

"i d-don't let my tutors f-fuck me," he whines, rolling his head to the side as you start to properly bounce on him.

"oh yeah? am i not your tutor?" you ask, making him glance back up at you. "don't lie about being a slut, you're so fucking good at it, bunny," you scold, grabbing his chin to make him turn to you once more. there's more tears gathering in his glossy eyes.

"i'm not lying," he insists meekly, letting out a loud moan as you slam your hips down onto him and start to go at a painstakingly slow yet firm pace.

"you're gonna start telling me what i know and don't know now?" you question, tilting your head to the side as you keep eye contact. "last time i checked, my dumb slut doesn't know shit," you spat, pulling a whimper from soobin. "needs to fuck every one of his tutors so that they don't slap him silly for being so stupid," you continue, making him sob as the insults go straight to the dick he has buried inside your cunt.

"do you wanna get slapped, huh?" you ask him, taking the hand on his face to lightly tap at his tear-stained cheek. "i know you like getting told how dumb you are, can feel it inside of me," you remind him, making him let out a small 'n-no' as he turns his head away from your hand.

"of course not," you tsk. "you just want to waste my time and have me put you back into your place," you don't expect your words to have the effect they do, but soon you feel soobin's hands on your hips as he tries to lean up to you again.

"m' sorry, i'm sorry for being dumb," he cries, looking oh so cute as he begs for your forgiveness. you can't excuse bad behavior, though, snatching his wrist and pinning them over his head with one hand. you lean forward more, placing your other hand right next to his head to keep you steady.

"can't accept your apology if you're forgetting to keep your hands to yourself," you comment coldly.

"s-sorry," he whispers, shrinking into your mattress.

"wanna know how to make it up to me?" you ask, watching him quickly nod. he's dumb, he's sensitive and emotional, but if he's not the cutest sub--oh so eager to please--you don't know what he is.

"come inside, show me just how much i can fuck you dumb when i make you come over and over again," you explain, soobin's eyes going wide at the vulgarity. his dick aches painfully inside your tight cunt, wanting to fill it up with his orgasm however many times you want him to.

#sub idol #sub soobin #sub txt #dom reader #dom! reader #tomorrow x together #soobin x reader #soobin smut

1K notes · View notes

draconym · 2 months

Note

Hello! I’ve been interested in park ranger work for awhile— but since researching the institution a little deeper, I’m worried that park rangers are essentially forest cops. I noticed on one of your posts that you mentioned that you were a a park ranger law enforcement officer— and I was wondering if you could go into a little detail about park ranger work and it’s connection to law enforcement? Another reason I feel weird about pursuing park ranger work is I feel that national parks have a non-ignorable history of stripping land from indigenous people. If you have any thoughts or experiences related to the career— it would be extremely helpful for me to hear since I am trying to sort out what I would like to do after college. Thank you for reading. If you don’t want to answer this question either, I completely understand.

There's no singular institution. There are rangers who work for the National Park Service, for State governments, for local governments, or for cities and towns. And there are many different types of rangers: enforcement, interpretive, wilderness rescue, the list goes on. Different sites have different needs, and different positions will have different duties. Many rangers have zero law enforcement authority, and most I've spoken to prefer it that way: they prefer to focus on education and conservation.

I was an enforcement ranger, but never a law enforcement officer--the primary authority I had was the ability to issue fairly cheap citations for animal-related violations (fishing, poaching, off-leash dogs, harm to wildlife, etc.) through local Animal Control. Though some rangers elsewhere carry weapons and receive law enforcement training, my department never did (the latter, frankly, was often to our detriment).

Certainly the NPS has a history loaded with racism, land theft, land desecration, even genocide. The very inception of the NPS was predicated on the myth that the lands to be designated as National Parks were uninhabited wilderness. But don't assume the problem lies solely with NPS: any institution with even a small amount of power has the potential to abuse it, and smaller parks are no exception. I've never even worked for the NPS (my state doesn't even have any national parks), but local agencies often have histories of segregating parks or enforcing segregation within them.

I've heard people say that park rangers are the "only good" law enforcement, and that's a generalization I absolutely wouldn't make. Yes, there are laws and regulations that are necessary for the sake of conservation and our ability to safely access natural areas. That doesn't mean those laws are always universally fair or fairly enforced.

If this leaves you feeling dismayed, well, yeah. Me, too. But there are also quite a lot of positions within parks that are not rangers at all, and quite a lot of jobs within conservation and nature education that are not parks jobs. I've found both park maintenance and trail crew to be just as rewarding in many ways, and if you can live with the low salary they typically offer, I do recommend giving those positions a try. The salary was ultimately a dealbreaker for me.

I haven't been a ranger for several years. I left because the agency I was working for was undeniably a toxic work environment. This isn't intended to put you off working for parks: it's a valuable, rewarding career to educate the public about the natural world and to help maintain wild spaces. I'm grateful to still be involved with parks in other ways. But even the small agency I'm currently working for struggles to right itself. It can be rough out there.

I've already discussed a few of the above points before in my #park ranger tag, so I encourage interested folks to read there if they're interested in more of the mundane, day-to-day stuff.

#park ranger

100 notes · View notes

heli-writes · 1 month

Text

Marriage of Convenience, part 11: the invitation.

Pairing: Yoriichi x you

Summary: Yoriichi's friends think that Yoriichi is too lonely and needs a wife and family to take care of him. They propose a marriage of convenience to a woman who's in need of a husband. The arrangement of the marriage is simple: both parties live their lives as before, y/n takes care of Yoriichi as a wife and Yoriichi keeps unwanted men (and demons) away. Love is not required, friendship is appreciated. However, how detached can one be when living so close to each other?

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11

Series Masterlist

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

„The master really wants to speak to you?“

It's hard to notice in Yoriichi's usual monotone voice, but he's actually surprised. Y/n curls her lips in distaste.

„I used to work for him before, you know.“, y/n tells him offendedly.

Yoriichi leans slightly back as y/n massages a heating cream into the sore muscles of his back. Y/n pushes him forward a bit in order to have more room to work. Maybe she pushed a little bit rougher than usual.

„But you don't anymore.“, Yorichii curtly points out.

Y/n takes a deep breath. Yes. That's what has been bothering her. Yoriichi didn't get a citation by the leader of the demon slayer corps and he's basically his boss. Or maybe not, since Yoriichi does not seem to affiliate with the cooperation besides teaming up with them once in a while.

„Did his wife tell you what this is about?“, Yoriichi asks and y/n shakes her head.

„No, just that I have to come to tea this afternoon. Or rather that I am invited. But since we're squatting in his house, I hardly can say no.“, y/n grumbles.

Yoriichi shifts his body so that he can look into y/n's eyes and grab her hand softly.

„You don't have to go if you don't want to.“, he says determined.

Y/n sighs at that and swats his hand away. Yoriichi pulls his clothes back over his shoulders. Y/n takes some time to answer him while washing her hands in a bowl of clean water.

„It's not like I am afraid of him or anything. It's just that... that our cooperation ended badly for my family and y/s/n's family. It brings back a sense of dread.“, she tells him.

„I can come along if it makes you more comfortable.“, Yoriichi offers.

Y/n wants to say yes but also feels a little silly accepting such an offer. She's a grown woman who can have a mature conversation with another adult. She does not need somebody to hold her hand. And yet, Yoriichi's presence would be a welcomed source of comfort and security. Not that she expects an ill intent from the head of the Ubayashiki family.

„Y/n.“

Yoriichi puts a hand on her shoulder. It's warm and grounds her in the racing of her own thoughts. Y/n twists around and comes face-to-face with her husband.

„I am coming with you.“, he decides for her.

Y/n feels embarrassed. She doesn't want a babysitter but at the same time, she's glad Yoriichi decided for her so that she doesn't have to ask for it.

Yoriichi strokes a strand of hair out of her face.

„It is unfit for a man to speak to another man's wife without her husband in the room.“, he says and y/n rolls her eyes.

The connotations behind this idea of how men and women have to behave are distasteful to her. She doesn't voice her opinion though. It's a common idea in this society and she knows that Yoriichi uses it as an excuse to tag along. For her, not because he actually sees offense in the extended invitation.

„Alright.“, she tells him and Yoriichi gives her a soft, reassuring smile.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Y/n awkwardly repositions her legs. Besides her, Yoriichi is still sitting like a statue. Sometimes it makes him seem less human and more like the monsters he hunts at night. Y/n shivers at the idea.

She can see that Yoriichi is giving her a side eye but before he can say something to calm her nerves, the door in front of them is slid open and Ubuyashiki and his wife alongside two servants enter the room.

The servants quickly set up a table and tea while the master of the house and his wife take seats in front of y/n and Yoriichi. Ubuyashiki waits until the servants have left the room before addressing the couple in front of him.

„Yoriichi, I am glad to see you return in full health.“, he addresses y/n's husband first who only gives him a short nod. Then, he turns to y/n and says: „Thank you, Mrs. L/n, for meeting with me today“.

„It's Tsugikuni.“, y/n almost immediately corrects him. She does so without thinking and when she realizes how rude that must've been, a deep crimson crawls up her neck. Ubuyashiki only gives her a soft smile.

„Right, excuse me, of course, I know you're married by now. I was glad to receive the news. I couldn't imagine a better partner for our Yoriichi here.“, he replies to y/n sudden outburst.

Y/n observes him warily. She doesn't like how the older man compliments her. Somehow, it feels like a trap. The feeling only deepens when Ubuyashiki continues: „While I'm glad to see you by Yoriichi's side, I also deeply regret as why it's him by your side and not someone else. My condolences to what happened to your fiancée. I'm sure he rest in peace with his ancestors.“

At least he doesn't pretend things didn't end badly for me, y/n acknowledges Ubuyashiki's openness about the end of their little collaboration.

„I also want to extend my gratitude towards you, Mrs. Tsugikuni. You saved many lives last night.“, Ubuyashiki says.

Y/n lowers her gaze. She doesn't want praise for her actions. It makes her feel uncomfortable. She's not some hero who selflessly jumped into action. Quite the opposite. In contrast to these men, she hides in this mansion. Too afraid to look the evil in the eye that hunts her.

„Thank you, but I only used the knowledge that was passed onto me.“, y/n replies.

„Yami, I'm sorry to interrupt. But why exactly have you invited my wife here?“, Yoriichi surprisingly joins the conversation.

Y/n is surprised at how cool Yoriichi suddenly sounds.

It's almost hostile, she thinks.

Ubuyashiki gives Yoriichi a smile that is meant to look soft, but y/n finds it a bit forced.

„Right, of course, I shouldn't waste your time by exchanging pleasantries.“, Yami Ubuyashiki admits. He turns back to y/n again and watches her carefully.

„As I said, y/n you saved many lives today. I got to know your family as experts of a different kind, but clearly, you also have the gift of a healer.“, Ubuyashiki says carefully. Y/n almost immediately interrupts him.

„Please don't overestimate my competences. I make medicine and know how to treat basic ailments like colds and cuts. I don't have the knowledge or skill to treat bigger wounds.“, she states.

Ubuyashiki gives her a long calculating look.

„Right, but you do know your way around antitoxins.“, he points out and a cold shiver runs down her spine.

He could've said poisons, y/n notes to herself.

„Your medicine saved many of our men tonight.“, he emphasizes. After a moment of silence, he continues: „Y/n, I would like you to continue your work for us“.

„Absolutely not.“, y/n's reply shoots out of her immediately. Ubuyashiki glances toward Yoriichi for a split second. When Yoriichi does not interrupt, Ubuyashiki continues.

„Last night showed us how important it is to have someone in our midst who knows how to deal with poisons.“, he explains.

„I won't be that someone.“, y/n says determinedly.

„Mrs. Tsugikuni, I understand your reservations.“, Yuko Ubuyashiki suddenly joins the conversation. Y/n almost forgot that Ubuyashiki's wife was present as well.

„Then you understand why I can't work for you again.“, y/n points out grimly.

„We don't expect you to immediately pick up things where you left them“, Yuko says a bit more softly and y/n awkwardly shifts her legs again. „We would just like you to...“

„My wife just stated very clearly that she has no interest in working on poisons again.“, Yoriichi abruptly interrupts her. Y/n is grateful that he finally joins the discussion as well. She had hoped that he would take her side on this.

The room lies in silence for a few seconds.

„We just-“, Yuko starts again.

„No.“, Yoriichi simply says and there lies a power behind that word that makes y/n shiver. She had no idea that soft, shy Yoriichi could sound like that. Like there is no room for negotiation.

„Yoriichi, my friend, we understand. Really, we do. Both of you wouldn't be living beneath our roof if we didn't understand how dire the situation for your family is.“, Ubuyashiki tries to sway him.

It doesn't escape y/n how he brings up the fact that the Ubuyashikis are granting them sanctuary.

„Exactly.“, Yoriichi agrees, „Which is also exactly the reason why y/n should not gain more attention from Muzan and his upper moons. I already draw enough attention“.

Y/n raises her eyebrow in surprise. This is the first time Yoriichi admits his own strength and influence. Usually, he tends to demean himself and his work.

Ubuyashiki nods agreeingly. „Yes, yes, of course. But don't you agree that what happened yesterday night was a tragedy? Don't you agree that Muzan's attacks grow more viciously every night? Didn't you yourself tell me that they were closing in on you and your family?“, he questions Yoriichi.

When Yoriichi doesn't answer, Ubuyashiki continues: „We don't want to put your family in more danger, but yesterday night showed us how desperately we need someone with y/n's skills.“.

Ubuyashiki turns to y/n and holds her gaze determinedly.

„Y/n, I'm not asking you to continue your research. All I'm asking is if you would consider joining our ranks as a healer. As someone who makes medicine, antitoxins, to save our slayers' lives.“, he states and continues to stare into y/n's eyes.

Again, y/n awkwardly shifts in her stance and looks away almost ashamed. It's not an unreasonable request, especially considering how generous the Ubuyashiki family has treated them.

„Y/n“, Yoriich says calmly in her direction and y/n does not find the strength to look up to him. Suddenly, she feels his hand on her leg. „You don't have to say yes. We'll find shelter somewhere else.“, he tells her.

Ubuyashiki sighs deeply. „Yoriichi, Y/n... you're misunderstanding. We're not throwing you out, we're not using your situation to gain something. Y/n... we would never throw your family out. If you really don't want this, we accept it.“, he explains.

Y/n stares at her hands. She can't look up and meet Yoriichi's or Ubuyashiki's gaze.

„If I were to agree... what would this entail?“, she eventually asks carefully. Yami and Yuko exchange a glance. It's not a yes yet but it almost is.

„As my husband explained, you'd join our ranks as a healer. We'd transfer you to work with Hiko Rengoku, the wife of our flame pillar. She's a healer too, but more practically like the nurses you've worked with last night. We hope that your skills complement each other.“, Ubuyashiki tells her.

Y/n carefully looks up to Yoriichi. She hopes to see something on his face that tells her if it's a good offer or not, but Yoriichi stares straight ahead leaving the decision up to her.

She wants to talk this over with Yoriichi. To see what his opinion is on the matter, and what's best for their family. But ultimately, she knows it's her decision. Of course, Yoriichi could decide for her. He's her husband after all. However, Yoriichi isn't the type of man to overrule her decision simply because he can.

Y/n sighs deeply.

„Can you guarantee my son's safety?“, she asks the head of the Ubuyashiki family.

„I can never guarantee anything when it comes to Muzan Kibutsuji.“, Ubuyashiki states honestly and y/n's heart sinks a bit.

„However, I can promise you that I will do anything that's possible to keep him safe.“, Ubuyashiki says calmly.

I guess this is the best I can get, y/n thinks. She looks up to Yoriichi one more time, giving him the opportunity to interfere. When he doesn't move, she gives Yami Ubuyashiki her decision.

„Alright then, I will work for you.“

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Tag list: @maluvilela @pirana10 @rjasmin2021 @puddingchoo

[Please comment beneath the last update if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters]

#demon slayer #demon slayer yoriichi #kny #kny x reader #kny x you #yoriichi tsugikuni #yoriichi x y/n #yoriichi x you #kimetsu no yaiba #yoriichi #yoriichi imagine

61 notes · View notes

librarycards · 9 months

Note

Hello! Sorry if you’ve posted about this somewhere already/if it’s redundant, but I thought your coinage of “transMad” was very cool and I’m wondering what that term means to you? I’m really happy to see other people talking about madness being intertwined w their gender/transness and looking forward to checking out your reading lists :))

thank you so much for asking about one of my favorite things to infodump about!! rather than rehash a bunch of stuff, if it's okay, I'm going to borrow a few quotes from past!me that i've published in different places // offer you some things of mine to read.

broadly, though, i use transMadness as a way to explore the identificatory, epistemological, methodological, and theoretical implications of an orientation (to use Sara Ahmed's term) toward bodymind noncompliance and self/selves-determination. this orientation refuses to delineate diagnostically between Maddened / transed experiences of the world/our many worlds, and instead takes this shared/overlapping ground as a jumping off point for solidarity and speculation - that is, something that allows us to imagine otherwise worlds / make them manifest through creativity and collaboration.

(Ha, and I claimed i wouldn't talk too much...famous autistic last words)

ANYWAY. here are some clips that might help explain more dimensions of transMadness. note that, in my dissertation-in-progress, i'm focusing on xeno/neogender and/as self-diagnostic cultures among queercrip and transMad internet users. i'm interested in the anti-psych liberatory potential of this digital community work, especially as it centers forms of knowledge and scholarship devalued within Academia Proper, especially because so much of it is made by and for disabled, Mad, queer, trans people, esp. youth. Onward to quotes!

On transMad epistemologies: citation/power/knowledge:

I’ll spend most of this piece looking not at what transMad is, but what it does. First and foremost, transMad cites. Even its name alludes to other portmanteaus: neuroqueer and queercrip being the best-known among them. Many people have offered many different (ever-“working”!) definitions of these terms; today, I offer co-coiner Nick Walker’s (2021) definition of neuroqueer: a verb and an adjective “encompass[ing] the queering of neurocognitive norms as well as gender norms” (p. 196). In terms of queercrip, I also return to its coiner, Carrie Sandahl (2003), who for whom the queercrip (as person and as method/movement) confuses the diagnostic gaze, bears sociopolitical witness, and performs glitchful[4], incongruous, confusing in(ter)ventions into possible community. At base, “queer” and “crip” appear as analogous, reclaimed slurs signifying marginalized transgression. When combined, they describe a loop, perhaps a Möbius strip: crip (ani)mates queer, queer tells-on crip. The specter of crip haunts queer—and even more explicitly, as we will see, trans—and the crip(ped) bodymind holds, moves, and fucks queerly. Who knows where “queer” stops and “crip” and “neuro” begin? Likewise, transMad, whose citational style leaves little room for diagnostic clarity amidst a pastiche of noncompliant text.

On transMad epistemologies: multiplicity (h/t @materialisnt):

They encourage us to remove others’ names from our bodies, to reign in unruly citations, to set “boundaries” which violate Mad, crip ethics of care (see Fletcher, 2019). In truth, any framing of individual authorship in which the body text is “mine” and the citations gesture “elsewhere” belie the inherent interdependence of all intellectual life, and particularly of transMad intellectual life. transMad plural scholar mix. alan moss (2022) argues in relation to the pathologization of multiple systems: “all people, indeed all that exists, is a system that itself is constantly enmeshed in several overlapping and interconnected systems.” In short, I am full of Is, and will continue as many more. Just as disability justice helps us understand all life as interdependent and deserving of access, a transMad approach sees our selves as numerous and fuzzy. We have permission to dispense with the need for tidy texts, with our interlocutors, edits, and iterations either obfuscated entirely or exclusively relegated to a bibliography. transMad citation may thus be considered akin to visible mending[6], creating flamboyantly messy, multiplicitous work that does not seek to pass as objective or discrete.

On the value of (crip) failure and/as "virtuality":

Don’t get me wrong: Zoom PhD work is a failing enterprise. That is to say, it is a queercrip, transMad enterprise, which is to say, it is a beautiful, beautiful project. Mitchell, Snyder, and Ware describe such “fortunate failures” in the context of “curricular cripistemologies.”5 Coined by Merri Lisa Johnson, the term “cripistemologies,” refers to “embodied ways of knowing in relation, knowing-with, knowing-alongside, knowing-across-difference, and unknowing,” ways which frequently exist outside the purview of mainstream academia.6 Curricular cripistemologies, then, refer to an intentional, queercrip deviation from normative pedagogical approaches which trades the corrective impulse of “special ed” and other rehabilitative programs, and offers instead a generative noncompliance.7 That is, rather than trying to identify, isolate, and ameliorate difference, curricular cripistemologies lean into difference as it is experienced by disabled students ourselves, querying how atmospheres of in/accessibility shape normative approaches to education and how the embrace of “failure,” not as a last-resort but as a first choice, poses potentially transformative possibilities.

On transMadness and fat liberation: (for @trans-axolotl's Psych Survivor Zine)

A transMad, fat approach to disorderly eating requires making connections with humility and understanding, and, as I discussed above, engaging in compassionate, critical interrogation of our own anti-fatness.

[...]

A transMad, fat, abolitionist politic is one that makes room. We imagine beyond the cage, even if the details of that imagining are not yet clear. Just as we have carved micro-sites of support within violent digital and in-person contexts, just as we have learned to think about our lifeworlds beyond the paradigm of “recovery or death,” we can also reconceptualize fatness not as the enemy, but as another form of bodymind noncompliance in alliance and/or entanglement with disorderly eating practices. For thin disorderly eaters, this requires us to fundamentally challenge the way we view food and embodiment, even while maintaining a Mad respect for alternative ways of approaching reality.

On xenogenders, virtuality, and self-determination:

It is this very “irrationality” –– the “unrealness,” the “you’ve-got-to-be-kiddinghood,” that is most frequently weaponized against xenogenders, as well as their newly-coined sets of xenopronouns. The perceived and actual virtuality of xenogenders is often placed against the notion of “actuality,” in this case, of “real” (or “practical”) genders and pronouns to be used in one’s “real life.” Disabled activists have rightly resisted the distinction between online and (presumed-offline) “real life,” given that this categorically excludes homebound bodyminds, as well as those without IRL social and support circles. That said, I believe the virtual –– as almost, not-quite, proximite, making-do –– is incredibly useful in thinking about xenoidentities as transMad tools –– particularly, as transMad tools of underground collaboration / co-liberation.

[...]

What if gender was a project we wanted to fail? That is, what if trans- was a process not of getting better, not of moving-toward a bodymind more sane, more straight, and more cisheteropatriarchially desirable, but rather a line of flight on a longer trail to illegibility? Indeed, what if we replaced pathology’s narrow “path” with a trail lighted by the language of our comrades, whose linguistic interventions make and break gender in ways heretofore unimaginable? Xenoidentities, both individually and as a trans-gressive M.O., are fundamental to a broader transMad project of crafted, collective illegibility; intersubjective citation (imagine what it feels like for someone to be the gender that you coined!); and collective care that refuses a politics of cure. Crucially both virtual and digital, xenoidentities are furthermore a manifestation of the power of trans, predominantly disabled digital counterpublics, who overturn the hierarchy which places the IRL-real above the digital-unreal, making unruly, Mad space in which (with apologies to Donna Haraway) a hundred xenoselves might bloom.

On Maddening queer "diagnosis":

In her indictment of all “Kwik-Fix Drugs,” Gray further indicates the practice of forced treatment as in and of itself as a project of violent normalization, regardless of specific target or reason. The intentional ambiguity between her narrative of Madness and her narrative of asexuality disrupt mounting demands for a healthy (sanitized, neoliberal, and consumable) queerness. A Mad ace approach identifies these demands as, indeed, comparable with cis heteronormative notions of sexual maturity and responsibility – the idea that participation in culturally-normative sexual practices is a prerequisite for health (Kim, 2011, 481) and thus, personal autonomy (Meerai, Abdillahi, and Poole 2016, 21). By fusing the “lack of sexual appetite” attributed to her medications for bipolar disorder with her asexuality, Gray destabilizes the binary between healthy-sexual-diversity and unhealthy-psychopathology. She is once again disrupting contemporary queer impulses to dissociate from ongoing histories of pathologization. Here, Mad and queer/asexual activism are as inseparable in text as they are in Gray. Gray and her comrades collectively refuse both sexuality-as-“rehabilitation” (See Kim 2011, 486) and asexual acceptance predicated upon normative “health” (Kim 2010, 158) – that is, they Madden asexuality. Twoey, in her own voice, remixes the sources of her own pathologization, staggering the supposedly-divine pronouncement of the DSM across pages and bookending its extracts with her own writing and art. In this undermining of the DSM’s epistemological polish, Gray disrupts the domination of written prose over poetry and visual art, while also critiquing the role of the DSM in commercialized health “care.” Her zine opens with the lines “sex sells and sex is sold / sex was being sold and i didn’t buy” (Gray 2018, n.p.). Gray indicates a pathology perceived not only in a refusal to practice sex, but also in a refusal to buy (into) it. After all, a refusal to buy into existing sexual paradigms is for her also a refusal to buy into a feminized reproductive mandate.

#sector-v #thank you genuinely!#ask #transmad #antipsychiatry #xenogender #epistemology #madness

92 notes · View notes

nevros-fr · 1 year

Text

Big question: Who or when was the first use of the term UMA?

Cross posted to FR's forums but I thought fr tumblr meta readers would like this too! Introduction What is a UMA? It stands for User Made Accents, where the companion term is User Made Skins, but UMAs caught on as the catch-all term instead of UMS. I was in the Arcane discord server where foxaquinn made a joke about UMAs and wondered who was the first to use it. If you are on GASP (general accent and skin pinglist), UMAs pop up regularly where I got pinged 60+ times for threads with UMA in the title. I research by day and play pet sims by night so here I am, combining research and pet sims to unravel how language changed throughout the years in the skins and accents community! I included in text citations for my sources because I like those and I don’t like making works cited lists. :) First, what language does the staff use for skins? Maybe UMAs came from them? The Kickstarter uses the word “customs” in regards to the skins (Kickstarter, 2013) The first skin submission competition for the festival, Undel used the word “customs” to refer to the skins users made (Undel, 2013). Note that the current competitions and even the tooltip for blueprints use the word “customs” as well. The blueprint page even uses “user-created” and not “user-made” so "user made" must have stemmed from the community as a more casual way to say user-created.

Results Let’s rule out some approaches that may give an easy answer. I tried to use the FR search tool to see if I could find the first use of UMA, however it only indexes up to one year of results or 100 pages, whichever you hit first when you sort by age so I wasn’t able to glean anything from that. Note that I tried to stick with UMA as the search term because use of UMS just overlaps too largely with the sound “um” when I use the search bar, which also means that plurals are captured by FR’s search. I can also tell you that FR’s search lets you type in user-made or user made and it will pull up the same results.

Then I tried google where I used the key terms site:https://www1.flightrising.com/forums/ "UMA" with a time range from 2013 to 2014. It looked promising at first because it looked like there was an instance as early as 2013. When I actually checked it though, it pulled up the most recent use of UMA in the forums in the first two hits as seen by the timestamps of May 2023 next to it. Google indexed when the forum board was established instead of the individual threads for this search. I dropped the time range and just checked what results it would pull up.

There was an individual thread called the FR Abbreviations Guide that got pulled up. It was made in 2014 and includes both UMA and UMS in the definition list. However, UMA was added to the page in 2020 (FR Abbreviations, 2020).

I decided to just look back at some of the early Skins and Accents posts to see what language they use. It was pretty interesting, where many people just used skins and accents. There is no distinction yet, likely because there weren’t any festival or coliseum skins that users could submit yet! There were still categories though, since blueprints were so expensive, some artists offered “premades” which were skins people could buy for a certain cost on top of providing a blueprint. There were also options for “ghost artists” where the artist could design a custom skin but pass the psd files to the patron for them to distribute instead of the artist selling them instead. “Customs” was also another common term, where it works the same as it does today. People commission an artist to design a unique skin for them. The majority of skins on the market right now would be considered premades back then, which makes sense as it lets the artist have their creative liberties and will allow like minded users to support them.

I was clearly a fool to think UMAs were old because with the skins and accent threads research, I decided to comb through my forum posts to see what I ended up using. I first used UM accents in 2016 since that is when I first started collecting them, then the last time I used it was in early 2018 because I started using UMA by early 2019. I have no posts between 2018 and 2019, but clearly there was a language shift for me that preceded the FR abbreviations update just a year later (FR Abbreviations, 2020). I’m usually slow in the uptake so I decided to try and track down other forum boards besides the skin specific threads to see what terms were used.

As I was thumbing through the pages, I think I may have overestimated the age of UMA use popularity because I thought it started back in 2013-2014 since that is when the site first got started and I felt like UMA was such an old acronym. The General Skins and Accents Pinglist (GASP) started in 2016. I raked the first version for mentions of “UMA” and there was nothing ! The use of “UM skins” and “UM accents” was the norm (GASP, 2016; GASP V2.0, 2016; GASP v2.0, 2018). One of the first instances of UMAs being used in this thread was in 2018 (GASP, 2018). Can I do any better than 2018? It surely is an older term!

The accent trading hub was established in 2014, so chances are, there are some time points there! The results for “user made” predates “UM accents” by one year, and “UMA” by two years which were 2014, 2015, and 2016 respectively (Accents Trading Thread, 2023a; Accents Trading Thread 2023b; Accents Trading Thread 2023c). There were 14 pages of results for “user made”, 64 pages for “UM accents”, and 96 pages for “UMAs” from the accent trading hub thread. “UMA” was used by two people in 2016, then 5 pages worth of posts in 2017, then another 6 pages worth of posts in 2018, and it took off with 25 pages worth of posts in 2019. Clearly the language was developing around 2016 but exploded in popularity in 2018. This trend was similar in the UMA mentions in the skins and accents forum board. I used ctrl + f with UMA to see when it started regularly showing up in titles, and that was in 2018.

Discussion

According to the UMA searches in the discussion boards, do you know what cultural icon got a revival in the minds of mainstream media? Uma Thurman specifically because of Fall Out Boys who released a song with her name. And you know what Uma is like? UMA, User Made Accents. I’m not saying that Fall Out Boys planted the idea in our heads, but it’s quite the coincidence the song came out in 2015 and UMA as an acronym use started in 2016. In fact, when I searched the FR threads for UMA across the site, the early ones were Uma as a name and Uma referring to the song. The earliest mention of UMA that was actually relevant and broke containment from the skins and accents board was in 2017 in the tiny little questions thread asking what does UMA stand for. (tiny little questions, 2017).

I would like to say that while this user wasn’t the first to use it, they repeatedly popped up when I tried to see who used UMA the earliest. And that user is chocomonster, they showed up and consistently used UMAs in the forums since 2016. I’m saying they showed up in the bug reports, suggestions, dragon trading posts using “UMA”. They are definitely an early trendsetter for UMAs and repped it across the forums.

Popularity of UMA rose in 2018, you know what else got popular in 2018? Reselling UMAs to the secondary market. Typing in UMA in a title means you have more characters for other things. You know which artist got really popular in 2018? Ravenhearst. She has since changed her username but I will keep Ravenhearst for the search results legacy.

I know correlation doesn’t equal causation, but her skins were massively popular when she was regularly releasing skins for the highly rendered wings and sky scenes where there were skins sold in the 100s range. I looked at the game database for Ravenhearst’s earliest skin which was #24078 and compared it to my hoard of festival skins as a year benchmark. The Flameforger’s event in 2017 has a skin with #23992 while the Crystalline Gala in 2018 had a skin #25608. She started her night sky niche around skin #25001 so it lines up with the 2017 - 2018 timeline.

A stronger communal identity was also created with groups like accent addicts anonymous in 2017 or aaa for short, which is a group of collectors and artists who came together to make collaborative skins. An early "big hit" for them were the wildclaw male line where the participating artists made flower/halo/wings skins that were super popular at the time but also being hated on by the vocal minority. If you weren't around for the bustle, one example that came out would be Invidious by fenmori or Bewitched by Churyu. Some examples of the aaa's recent work would be like aaa. Amanita Ambrosia where three artists take turns, one sketches the concept, one lines the skin and one renders it .The increase of more people interested in buying skins and artists flexing their creativity allowed for a great burst of interest that has carried on to this day.

Conclusions Can I pinpoint who first used user made accents, UM accents, UMAs? No, but, I can guess that it was sometime between 2015-2016. It is clear that language has evolved in small ways right under our noses and that human memories are terrible as I thought we were using UMAs since the very beginning. The customization and uniqueness of the UMA system on FR is such a joy and I can't wait to see how the community changes in the future!

If someone wants to try to tackle who first said UMA, be my guest and let me know! My earliest mention of UMA was October 2016 in the Accent Trading Hub Accents Trading Thread 2023c.

In conclusion, I love umas and will probably look at their sales and trends more.

#flight rising #flightrising #flight rising meta #flight rising uma #umas #nevros writing

205 notes · View notes

breelandwalker · 1 month

Note

Hello 💛 I just wanted to send you a little note of thanks. I am somewhat of a baby witch (i was raised by a very witchy woman in rural Ireland; folklore, folk remedies, offerings to the fairies, connection with nature were all prevalent in my childhood) and I have been following you on Tumblr for a while and I decided to start listening to your podcast within the last few days. I have ordered two of your books (Grovedaughter Witchery and Sisters Grimoire) and I am eager to learn more from you. I admire your ethics and I feel a connection with your voice and your words. I am curious - is it ethical for a witch to adapt another witch's spell? Is it fine as long as credit is given where credit is due? There is one of your spells that I want to try but there are some elements I am drawn to adding (some Irish language incantation, and a couple of extra steps). Is that okay? If not, I shall stick to the original spell. Thank you 💛

You're an absolute treasure. 😊💜 I'm so glad to hear that the books and podcast are helping you on your journey! I hope they will continue to do so.

As for adapting another witch's spell for one's own purposes, it is perfectly acceptable. It may help for your own records to note the original source for future reference, but the only time you need to include a citation is if you're posting it publicly. Then it's considered polite to give credit where credit is due, as you surmised.

It's common practice among modern witches to adopt, adapt, or draw inspiration from spells created by other witches, whether it's something we find in a book or see in a movie or happen across on the internet. It's a good way to learn about magic and find out what works best for our own needs and methods. You can even experiment by trying the original and then your own variation to see which one better achieves the desired result.

So yes, if you'd like to use something I've written as a jumping-off point for your own creations, go for it! And Happy Witching!

#literary-moon-witch #witch tips #witchcraft #witchblr #Bree answers your inquiries #Advice for Beginner Witches

16 notes · View notes

liamlawsonlesbian · 5 months

Text

I’ve made this offer to a couple of people privately, but I think it’s worth saying in public as we approach finals season:

If any of my moots or followers are in college and ever need someone to read over a paper for spelling errors/format citations/control + F in your source document to find a page number/etc while you Get The Actual Thing Done, I am always happy to do it

College was a Bad Time for me in many ways, and I wouldn’t have gotten through it without people willing to be an extra pair of eyes when I was freaking out

#i live alone in a time zone earlier than almost anyone on my dash & don’t sleep well #idk if this seems weird and obviously i am not offering to write anything for anyone #but like if you’re alone in the library at 2 am and need someone to tell you where you got that quote from or if you misspelled something #I can and will do it #also if you need someone to quiz you or just rant to

26 notes · View notes

gandalfsalt · 23 hours

Text

Solavellan Angst and Dido & Aeneas

Here's an "essay" (more like notes) I wrote about a year ago after finishing Trespasser, and surprisingly it holds up ok! You can watch a video essay version on my TikTok @gandalfs_alt. I think the video version is a bit more polished because I wrote it yesterday, this old one is pretty rough.

Unfortunately no citations... feels weird to post w/o citations. Future posts I think I will start citing my sources.

A great love story that I see relating to Solavellan is the story of Dido and Aeneas. This story is even older than Tristan and Isolde, dating back to ancient Rome (specifically Virgil’s The Aeneid, completed in 19 BCE, about 2000 years ago). It is widely considered the archetypal love story that symbolizes the tension between love and duty in Western literature.

Dido was the Queen of Carthage, a city located in North Africa. In some versions she is a sorceress, and she is beloved by her people. Aeneas was a Trojan hero who escaped the fall of Troy. Aeneas and his fellow Trojans fled across the Mediterranean Sea after the fall of Troy. They landed in Carthage, and were welcomed by Dido, who offered them hospitality.

Dido and Aeneas spend a significant amount of time together, and fall deeply in love. Over time their love became increasingly intense. In some versions they marry. However, Jupiter (Zeus), the king of the gods, sends the messenger god Mercury (Hermes) to remind Aeneas of his duty to establish a new homeland in Italy (what becomes modern day Rome). After contemplating staying by Dido’s side, Aeneas feels that he must fulfill his divine mission to re-establish his homeland and he abandons Dido, departing for Italy.

Dido is devastated by Aeneas’ departure. In her anguish, Dido constructs a funeral pyre, on which she places Aeneas's belongings, including a sword he had left behind. She then took her own life by falling on the sword. Aeneas, unaware of Dido's fate, continues his journey to Italy, where he eventually fulfills his destiny and founds the city that would become Rome.

I think some of the parallels are pretty clear. A mysterious wandering hero fleeing the aftermath of a fallen civilization joins up with a group of people and falls in love with their leader. He then abandons said leader to fulfill what he believes is his divine mission, which is to re-establish what has fallen in a new place.

There’s two ways I think this story is helpful for understanding Solas, Lavellan, or Solavellan:

It has inspired so much art, we can look at how other artists have handled this theme to get insights into the characters, learn more about them, and learn about different ways this conflict (love vs duty) can be interpreted or represented.

If this story did in fact inspire the DA:I writers, learning more about it can possibly help uncover where they may take Solavellan in DA:D (dear god, I hope they don’t go the Dido route with Lavellan, pls no 😭)

Even though Solas is a pretty clear Aeneas type, I actually see him share a lot of attributes with Dido as well. One of the most famous versions of Dido and Aeneas is an opera (yes, opera again, lol) composed by Henry Purcell in 1689. It is one of the first operas composed in English, and is pretty much considered the premiere retelling of the Dido/Aeneas story in the English language. One of the most famous pieces from the opera is Dido’s Lament, and it’s the song Dido sings after she decides she can’t live without Aeneas, and is about to, literally, fall on a sword.

The lyrics of Dido’s lament are:

More I would, but Death invades me:

Death is now a welcome guest.

When I am laid, am laid in earth,

May my wrongs create no trouble, no

trouble in thy breast;

Remember me! Remember me! But ah!

forget my fate.

To me, this is 100% Solas’s psychological state when he leaves Lavellan. The lament is obviously very tragic and sad, but there’s something extremely stubborn and self-centered about it. It feels like a lot of self-imposed misery. In Dido’s case, she was certainly wronged by Aeneas, she was treated very unfairly and it’s not her fault at all, but her reaction to it is very self-pitying and self-sabotaging, literally and figuratively. I got the same feelings from Solas during his final confrontation with Lavellan.

“Death invades me, Death is now a welcome guest,” - Wait a minute, who says anyone has to die? Why is dying the only option here, Dido and Solas?

“May my wrongs create no trouble in thy breast,” - It seems like Dido and Aeneas have the option not to commit these wrongs or additional wrongs, so why act all stubborn and resigned about it?

The “wrong” I think Dido is referencing is her impending suicide. Solas may be referencing the same thing if he knows he is going to die, but in his case destroying the world and loving then leaving Lavellan are some other wrongs. But again, based on what we know, it seems like he has the option to stay and not destroy the world a second time. So why so stubborn?

“Remember me! But forget my fate.” My dudes. It seems to us like you’re choosing this fate. And you think we can remember you and not remember how you left us? You want Aeneas/Lavellan to hold the torch, but just forget a very monumental decision you made? That’s a little delusional. This line is so simple, but it does an excellent job of underscoring the conflict between love and sense of duty. In both cases, the heroine/hero want to be remembered by the ones they love, but at the same time they don’t want their choices to impact their lovers, or their lover’s recollection of them. Which really is impossible.

#dragon age #solas #solavellan #solas dragon age #solasmance #dragon age inquisition

16 notes · View notes

returnsandreturns · 1 year

Note

I got a spicy idea but I'm not brave enough (like you) to write it, so I bring it here, for you to do what you want with or ignore

ADHD-coded Foggy has trouble focusing on his cases because the thing he needs to do is boring and doesn't give him enough stimulation. He complains about it to Matt. Matt offers to help by making things more exciting and adding some stimulation.

And that's how Matt ends up under Foggy's desk and Foggy gets a blowjob while he tries to read case law.

Would that actually work? I'm not sure. Maybe for a while. But it's an excuse for getting things spicy.

i literally sat down and wrote this as soon as i read it and it's almost 1k

i did change it to college, though

"You're never going to finish if you keep coming to complain about it," Matt says, before Foggy can so much as say a word as he gets up to lean against Matt's bed where he’s sprawled out listening to music and doing nothing else because he’s efficient and organized and better.

"How are you finished already?" Foggy asks, accusingly. "What's your secret?"

“I went to the library,” Matt says, “where it was quiet and there was nobody to distract me.”

“Are you saying I’m a distraction?” Foggy asks.

“In the very best way,” Matt replies, with a smile that Foggy wants to kiss off his face. “I can leave and give you the room if you want.”

“No, my desire to have you carnally is only one of the several different thought processes that are keeping me from finishing these fucking citations,” Foggy says, sighing. “I’ve also got three different songs stuck in my head and am losing an imaginary argument with a professor as we speak and I really need to wash my sheets or you won’t want to be in them which is very important to me and now I’m back to carnal–”

Matt interrupts him by surging up to kiss him.

“I have an idea,” he says, “that I’m. . .85% sure won’t work at all.”

“Could be worse odds,” Foggy says, suspiciously.

“Wait there,” Matt says, pressing one more kiss to his cheek before getting up to brush past him, move Foggy’s desk chair to the side, and crawl under the desk on his hands and knees. It’s an awkward fit and Foggy can’t do anything but watch him with wide eyes as Matt settles on his knees with his head lifted out from under the desk.

“. . .catch me up,” Foggy says, wide-eyed.

“Maybe it’ll help if you’re only distracted by one thing?” Matt offers, hesitantly.

Foggy makes an incoherent noise.

“Foggy, I’m going to blow you while you finish your paper,” Matt says, sighing. “Are you interested?”

“. . .yeah, yes, absolutely,” Foggy says, almost tripping over his own feet to get back to his chair, feeling a little faint at the concept and at the smile that Matt gives him when he rolls the chair back and spreads his legs a little more.

“Keep working,” Matt prompts, running fingers up one of Foggy’s thigh until he slides them under the waistband of his sweatpants. “If this works, we’re going to both be valedictorian.”

“Valedicktorian,” Foggy breathes out, gasping when Matt pulls his sweats down just enough to free his erection.

“Absolutely not,” Matt says, laughing, ducking down to lick a stripe up Foggy’s dick, making a satisfied noise before he takes it in his mouth for just a moment before he pulls off to say, warmly, “Work.”

“Right,” Foggy says, faintly. “Work.”

It’s definitely hard to pay attention because Matt is extremely good at this but there’s something to his theory. The feeling of Matt’s tongue moving when he’s got Foggy deep in his mouth, close to his throat, is the only other thing he can focus on. He’s getting a little more done than he had been and Matt seems like he doesn’t mind taking his time to make sure that Foggy doesn’t get off too quickly.

“Your neck has to be hurting,” Foggy says, when Matt sits up a little and bumps his head on the desk, swearing softly.

“Shut up,” Matt says, again, warmly. “I’m working, too.”

“I firmly believe you could do this professionally,” Foggy says.

He gets lost in the feeling of Matt getting him close over and over, slumped down and wishing he could touch him, run his fingers through Matt’s hair, pull it like he likes. He’s just wrapping things up, though, checking citations and looking for typos, so it’s not that hard to just let his brain wander between the two.

“Do you think you’ve done enough?” Matt asks, eventually, resting his head on Foggy’s knee.

“Are you bored?” Foggy asks.

“It’s less fun when I’m doing it all myself,” Matt says.

“I need to proofread one more time,” Foggy says, shutting his laptop and scooting backward in the chair, gently taking Matt’s hair to lead him out, “but this is more important.”

Matt immediately gets back to work and Foggy runs fingers through his hair, tightens them occasionally to hear and feel Matt moan, tells him how good it feels and how good he’s doing because he knows being called good does something to Matt that they haven’t fully unpacked. After almost a full hour of being teased, he doesn’t last long and Matt swallows when he comes in his mouth, wiping off a little from his lips when he sits back on his heels.

“Well?” he asks, looking gorgeous with messy hair and a swollen mouth.

“I mean, it didn’t not work,” Foggy says, laughing.

“Science,” Matt says, climbing into his lap, one knee resting on the chair between his legs as he leans down to kiss him.

#mattfoggy #my fic #daredevil

76 notes · View notes

loganjameshowlett · 14 hours

Text

SAME AS IT EVER WAS

01: AND YOU MAY ASK YOURSELF (WELL, HOW DID I GET HERE?)

pairing: peter parker/mutant!reader summary: you tutor peter parker. you dodge a robbery. you get run over and are somehow unhurt. all in a day's work, i guess. word count: 4.1k+

series masterlist | next installment

You were beginning to regret promising your tutoring services to Professor Sorensen.

The early morning sky was pink outside the library’s picture windows, and you stared wistfully as you spread your things out across one of the empty tables, wishing that you were still in bed. But Sorensen was maybe your favorite professor ever, and when she stopped you after class last week and asked you to tutor for the general education English classes in exchange for a meager pay and some extra points on your final essay, you didn’t have the heart to tell her no.

You couldn’t imagine, though, what kind of linguistically-inept STEM major would be desperate enough for tutoring to schedule an appointment with you at eight o’clock on a Wednesday morning. You kind of wanted to beat them over the head with your laptop. Instead, you took a searing gulp of your coffee and opened your current required reading for Sorensen’s class. If you were going to be up this early, you might as well make some use of the time beyond tutoring.

“Excuse me,” a voice calling your name cut through the otherwise silent main reading room of the library a few minutes later, and you looked up to find a tall boy with messy brown hair standing at the other side of your table. He had a frayed backpack slung over one shoulder, and a look of exhaustion in his brown eyes that was very familiar to you. “Am I in the right place for Professor Sorensen’s English tutoring?”

“Uh, yeah,” you nodded, shutting your book and briefly glancing down at the email from Sorensen open on your laptop to catch his name. “Peter Parker?”

“That’s me,” he nodded, offering a small smile as he slid into the chair to the right of you.

“So, you’re taking Beginnings of American Lit with Professor Liu, right?” you asked, checking the email once more.

“Yeah. She’s kind of a tough grader, and if I don’t score an A on my next essay it’ll fuck with my GPA,” Peter explained, glancing over at you sheepishly as he dug through his bag, eventually producing a thin stack of rumpled papers. “I was hoping we could edit this one together? Maybe you’ll be able to explain what she’s looking for, ‘cause I really don’t know.”

“Yeah, Liu is… particular, but not impossible,” you told him, reaching forward to slide the essay toward you. “Luckily, I’ve taken her twice, so I think I’ll be able to help.”

“Oh, thank god. I was starting to feel hopeless,” Peter said, and you couldn’t help but snort at the complete earnestness in his voice.

“So, I take it you’re not a humanities major,” you observe, and Peter laughs, shaking his head.

“Definitely not. I’m a chemistry major, actually. Science has always come easily to me, but writing not so much. S’why I put off taking my literature requirement until Junior year.”

“That’s what I did with my lab science requirement,” you said. “And now I’m struggling through a biology lab that might actually kill my GPA. Okay, so, your intro paragraph looks pretty good. Thesis is solid. I think your trouble is probably in the body– Liu is a real stickler for thorough analysis of quotes and citations. And by thorough, I mean extensive to the point of near-redundancy.”

“Alright, I already know I’m gonna have to beef up the middle, in that case,” Peter sighed, taking the first page of his essay to look over the few line edits you had penned in with red ink. “Hey, about your biology lab. I can help, if you want. As a thank you for helping me with Liu’s class.”

“Yeah? That’d be a lifesaver, honestly,” you said, raising your brow at him. “I don’t really know anyone in the department to help me find a reliable tutor. Not that I know you’re a reliable tutor. You could be a really shitty chemist, for all I know.”

Peter let out a theatrical gasp, bringing a hand to his chest in mock hurt. “I’ll have you know that I’m a very good chemist. And, lucky for you, a perfectly average biologist. Good enough to get you to pass that lab with an A, I bet.”

“Well, then, I’m gonna hold you to that, Mr. Parker.”

“Just Peter’s fine. Mr. Parker makes me sound geriatric.”

“Okay, Peter,” you hum. “Look, this quote you have at the top of this paragraph? It’ll be really easy to beef up your analysis if you introduce how it speaks on gender roles in American culture at the time. In fact, you could probably get a whole extra paragraph out of it, if you provide enough context.”

“Would you mind writing that in the margin? I’ll forget otherwise,” Peter asked and you complied, writing the potential edit in small, neat letters next to the paragraph. “If you’re free Friday afternoon, we could go through some of your biology work.”

“I actually am free then,” you said, eyes roaming over the last paragraph of his essay. You scribbled a few notes and line edits in, before stacking the pages neatly and sliding them back towards Peter. “Tell you what, you make the edits we talked about today, and we can go over the next version of your essay then, too, yeah? Make sure it’s up to Professor Liu’s standard?”

“You’re an angel,” Peter said, glancing up from where he was absorbing your edits to shoot you a grin. “Hey, sorry to be so abrupt, but I gotta run. How does same spot, two o’clock on Friday sound?”

“Works for me. Thanks for volunteering to help, Parker.”

“ ‘Course. We should exchange numbers, in case anything comes up. I never check my email,” Peter said, pulling his phone out of his back pocket. He passed it along to you, the contacts page opened, and you entered your information, sending a text to yourself so you had his information in return.

“See you Friday,” you smiled, handing the phone back to him.

“Friday,” Peter confirmed, taking a few backward steps away from the table before turning around. He glanced over his shoulder once more, waving, before he disappeared into the hall.

***

“God, this shift couldn’t be any fuckin’ slower,” Mickey groaned, dropping her head against the bodega’s countertop. Her red curls fanned all around her head, dripping over the edge of the counter.

“Closing shift is always slow, Mick,” you reminded her, leaning against the wall with your arms folded over your chest. The thick of the after work rush had been over for about an hour, leaving the bodega deserted, aside from the two of you and Gary, the ancient orange bodega cat.

“Dontcha ever just wish somethin’ interesting would happen around here?” she asked, picking her head up in order to blow a big pink bubble from her lips.

“Interesting things happen in this city every day,” you countered. “Spider-Man fights some new fuckin’ loser every week, man, and that’s just him. Daredevil broke Mrs. Llewellyn’s kitchen window, like, four days ago.”

“That shit’s not interesting anymore; you said it yourself, it happens every day,” Mickey said, stepping around the counter to pretend to organize the shelves. “Tell you what’d be interesting: if we found out who Daredevil or Spider-Man or any of the others are beneath the mask. And if not that, I’d settle for Daredevil crashing through my bedroom window tonight. That man is fine.”

“How would you know? Nobody’s ever seen his face.”

“He’s built, baby. That’s how I know,” Mickey scoffed.

You shrugged. “I’d rather the cape types stay away from my bedroom window. Or my general vicinity. I’ve got enough going on between class and this job and tutoring without getting involved in one of their situations.”

“Oh come on, you’re telling me the thought of some sexy superhero literally crashing into your life isn’t appealing at all?”

“No, dude. I don’t want the drama. Or, I’m sorry, the adventure,” you doubled down. “You can have it.”

“Amen,” Mickey nodded. “I hope Daredevil heard you say that somehow.”

Before you could respond, the mostly quiet night was cut through with the sound of police sirens, loud and close and then fading slightly as they passed down the street.

“Wonder what’s going on,” you murmured, craning your neck to follow the red and blue lights down the block.

“Whatever it is, I hope a man in tights responds to it.”

“God, Mickey, you are incorrigible,” you groaned, turning away from the window and grasping the handle of the broom, looking for something to do.

“Don’t use your fancy English major words on me, woman.”

“Incorrigible is not a fancy–” you started, but were cut off by your phone ringing in your pocket, the specific song you assigned to Mr. Browne, your boss.

“Hey, bossman, what’s up?” you asked, answering. Concern laced your voice; it wasn’t like Mr. Browne to call during closing shift. He trusted you and Mickey not to burn the place down, and his watching reruns of Jeopardy! time was basically sacred.

“Honey, listen,” his gruff voice filtered through the speaker. “I want you and Mickey to close up and go on home now.”

“What? Why? There’s still an hour until closing,” you asked, furrowing your brow.

“I just saw on the news that there’s a robbery going down in the neighborhood, and I don’t need you girls getting caught up in any danger, okay?”

“Oh, guess that explains the police cars,” you said, more to yourself than to him.

“You see? Lock up and get out of there,” he said, his voice firmer. “And no dilly-dallying, you hear? I got a bad feeling.”

“Okay, Mr. Browne, you got it. We’ll close up now and go straight home,” you promised.

“Good. Just feed Gary before you go.”

“Will do. G’night, bossman,” you said, before hanging up the phone.

“What’s that all about?” Mickey asked, brushing a piece of her wild hair away from her face.

“Apparently those police cars that went by are responding to a robbery in the neighborhood,” you informed her. “Mr. Browne wants us to lock up and go home now before we get caught up in any of the trouble.”

“Must be my lucky day,” Mickey grinned. “You get the keys, I’ll feed Gar.” You did as she said, retrieving the keys, your jacket, and your bag from behind the counter. Already, you were lost in thoughts of going home and crashing immediately in bed. You had been out and about for over twelve hours that day already, and you were practically asleep on your feet. You had half a mind to walk down the block and thank the robbers for cutting your shift short.

A minute later, the two of you were standing out on the sidewalk. You could hear shouts and the sirens as more police responded to the scene, even the drone of a news copter overhead. The robbery must be closer than you expected, and maybe a bigger problem than you were assuming, too. There was a bank two blocks down and one over; you wondered if it was all going down over there.

“Alright, text me the minute you get home,” Mickey said sternly.

“You, too,” you responded. The two of you lived in opposite directions, so you wouldn’t have the comfort of each other’s company on the walk home.

“We’ll be fine,” Mickey responded with a dismissive wave of her hand. “I bet the neighborhood is safer than usual– bet nobody else will try shit with the place crawling with so many cops. But still text me when you get home, got it?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She pulled you into a quick, tight hug before waving and heading down the block towards home. You turned in the opposite direction, back towards your apartment in Hell’s Kitchen. The night was cool for the beginning of October, and you pulled your flimsy zip-up tighter around your middle, hiding your hands deep in the pockets. Your head swam with all the things you needed to do for the week, wondering if you should get a jump on some of it with your newfound hour of free time, or actually give yourself a rest for once. You were leaning toward the former; if you hurried, you could probably finish the reading you started at the library before Peter showed up, and the corresponding question set.

With that thought in mind, you cut through a nearby alley, shaving off a block from your walk. You wouldn’t normally, but you had a feeling that Mickey was right, the high concentration of cops in the area would deter any other criminals. Probably you’d be fine. You stuffed your earbuds in your ears and pressed play on whatever had last been going, lost in thought as you tried to plan the rest of your week around class and work shifts and your new tutoring session with Peter.

As you cut through a second alley, bringing you just half a block from home, chin tucked in and head down against the wind, you didn’t hear the squeal of tires as they turned around a corner and sped down the street you were just on. You didn’t hear as they abruptly turned into the alley, doors scraping against a dumpster. The hair-raising screech of metal on metal finally cut through your music, and you turned around just in time to find a large, black SUV barrelling straight towards you.

There was nowhere to go. The alley was hardly wider than the car itself, and fear or shock or some horrible mix of both at the sight of it coming toward you had rooted you to one spot on the wet asphalt.

Fuck. I am about to die, you thought as you stared down the headlights, so bright you couldn’t see whoever was driving the thing.

The next ten seconds– because, really, it couldn’t have been any longer than that– occurred in a blur. The impact, your body on the wet ground. Front right tire crushing over your torso, the back tire following half a second later. Vaguely, with the small part of your brain where synapses still seemed to be firing, you knew there must be immeasurable pain, but all you felt was cold and static. There were too many things happening at once, too many pains and thoughts all garbled together that you couldn’t feel or register any of it.

You laid there, staring up at the dark, gusty sky, expecting death to collect you at any moment. When, after several minutes of slow blinking and shallow breathing, you were still alive, you figured you might have experienced a miracle. Maybe the tires had passed over you in just the right way to preserve your life? Not that you thought such a thing was possible. Getting crushed by a speeding SUV felt like a very final kind of thing.

Slowly, your senses started coming back to you. Hearing first, as you registered sirens rushing past at the mouth of the alley. You grimaced, tensing as you waited for them to also cut down the alley and actually kill you this time, but they passed by without incident. The pain started next: a horrible, dull ache across your ribs and a sharper, prickling kind of hurt along your shoulder blades, but nothing like you thought you should have been experiencing. You were worried that it was still all a trick of the mind, that you’d muster up the courage to lift your head and look down to take stock of the damage and find your torso resembling roadkill more than anything human. But you couldn’t lay there forever, you reasoned, and so went to work testing appendages to see if they were in order.

You wiggled your fingers and toes first, surprised, frankly, that you were able to do so. If you could wiggle your toes, everything below your ribs must still be connected to everything above your ribs. Good sign. You bent your arms at the elbow next, which reignited the flame of pain in your shoulder blades, but they moved fine otherwise. Bent your knees, turned your head from side to side. You were… okay, you concluded. Physically not dying in a dirty alley, at least.

A jolt of effort, and you sat up all the way, despite the protest of pain across your ribs and shoulder blades. Looking down, you took stock of the dark tire track running across the front of your sweater, but more importantly, the very uncrushed nature of your ribs and internal organs.

“How the fuck,” you muttered to yourself, brushing your hands tentatively down your front. The contact of your palms against your middle was like irritating a nasty bruise, but that was it. That was… impossible, you were pretty sure. Maybe you could gaslight yourself into believing it was if it had been some tiny, dinghy little car that had run you over, but it was a fucking monstrous SUV.

Blinking, you reached back toward the wall behind you and used it to hoist yourself up onto your feet. A terrible panic was creeping up on you now, and you preferred to deal with that in the privacy of your bedroom, not on the streets of Hell’s Kitchen. As you turned to stumble your way out of the alley, you noticed something else: the pavement beneath where you had fallen was crushed in a peculiar shape, almost like wings and six feet across.

“What the fuck,” you said, louder this time. Whatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuck. This situation was getting stranger by the second, and you were pretty sure you were about to experience a mental break, if you weren’t already.

Maybe I actually am dead, and none of this is happening right now, you mused as the alley spat you back out on the street. Your feet headed in the direction of your apartment on their own accord, your mind caught up in bright headlights and wing shapes stamped into asphalt. A horrible headache was building behind your eyes, and all you wanted was to get to the safety of your own home, dead or not.

The walk seemed to take an eternity in your dazed state, but eventually the familiar redbrick corner building that had been your home for the last two years loomed in front of you. You fumbled in your jacket pocket for your key, gripping it in your shaky fist as you punched in the key code to the front door. Up four flights of stairs, a fight with the apartment door as the lock rejected your key like always. You went through the motions in a dream state, so many thoughts tumbling through your head, but none of them sticking. Before opening the door, you shucked off your sweater and balled it up in your arms, in case either of your roommates were up and about. You really had no idea how you’d be able to explain the tire tracks across the front.

Inside, the lights were dim and a Bob’s Burgers rerun was playing at low-volume on the little television. An electric blue pixie cut shot up over the back of the couch at the sound of the opening door.

“You’re home early,” your cousin, Winona, called to you. “What’s the deal?”

“Uh…robbery. Down the block. Mr. Browne wanted us to leave early to be, um, safe,” you stammered out, toeing your shoes off at the door. Each subtle movement sent more pain lancing through your ribs, and you struggled to keep a straight, unbothered face.

Winona wasn’t convinced. After living together for two years and knowing you since birth, she was familiar with all of your little idiosyncrasies. She could tell when you were just a little irritated, so of course she could tell when you… well, when whatever the fuck just happened, happened to you. Her thick, dark brows drew in until they met at the center, brown eyes narrowing as she scrutinized you.

“What’s going on with you?” Your cousin was not one to beat around the bush.

“What do you mean?” you asked, skirting around the question.

“Somethin’s wrong with our girl?” a sleepy voice called from the other end of the couch. A second later, Odie’s head of wild brown waves popped up over the back of the couch. Winona’s best friend since grade school and your other roommate, she was extremely protective over you. Always had been, since she met you when you started freshman year at Midtown High and she and Winona were seniors.

“There’s nothing wrong,” you huffed. Even that extra expansion of your lungs caused the pain to flare. “I’m just tired. It was a long day.”

Winona frowned at you, clearly disbelieving. “I made lasagna earlier. You hungry?”

“Ate a bunch of junk at work with Mick. But I’ll bring some with me for lunch tomorrow,” you promised, and wrenched open your bedroom door and disappeared behind it before either of them could question you further. You pressed yourself against the door once it was closed, then jumped away quickly as the action sent an explosion of pain through your shoulder blades. You’d forgotten about it that fast.

“Fuck,” you whispered, closing your eyes against the burning of tears suddenly threatening to come. “Oh, god. What the fuck. What the fuck.”

What was even the next move? You couldn’t very well go out there and tell Winona you’d been crushed by an SUV earlier in the night. Nothing about your current state would corroborate the claim, why would she, or anyone else, believe you? And honestly, that was the least of your worries. More pressing issues: why weren’t you crushed by the SUV? Why weren’t you fucking dead? What was up with the weird, wing-shaped damage in the street below you? What had actually happened in that alley?

Something was deeply, deeply not right. You could feel the wrongness of it all buzzing through every inch of your body. You knew that the feeling would overwhelm you if you let it, and you were dangerously close to just sinking to the floor and letting it take you.

Your phone buzzed in your back pocket. Opening your eyes, you fished it out and brought the too-bright screen to your eyes.

Make it home okay? The text from Mickey read.

No, you wanted to say. Got hit by a fucking car but somehow I think that might be the least of my problems. I think something’s really wrong.

Your thumbs hovered over the keyboard, but of course you didn’t type it. You shot off a text confirming that you did– because really, you supposed, you did get home okay in some sense of the word– and asked if she did, too.

After Mickey texted back that she did get home safe, you set about the task of peeling off your uniform. Every movement hurt like a bitch, and you reminded yourself every five seconds that you should be grateful for the pain. You didn’t even have a single broken bone. You weren’t dead. You could handle some aches and bruising.

You worked your jeans off first, then your shirt and bra, heaping them in the corner of your room and plucking a random t-shirt and pajama shorts out of your drawer. Before pulling on the t-shirt, you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror tucked in the corner. As you suspected, a thick line of bruises was already purpling along your ribs, the width of a car tire. You sighed, turning to see how far they stretched on either side and paused when your back came into view.

Two thick lines of what looked like red, irritated scar tissue traced along the lines of your shoulder blades. It looked as though someone had surgically cut them open, and recently. You brought a hand to your mouth, suppressing the gasp threatening to worm its way out. You felt like all the crap you ate at work was about to make a reappearance.

Those certainly hadn’t been there this morning. You would know: you stood naked in front of this very mirror after your shower, sleepily trying to pick out your outfit. The skin of your back had been smooth, unscarred. Obviously. You would have remembered if you had gone through something that would have resulted in scars like this.

“Okay, no,” you muttered, throwing the t-shirt over your head as quickly as possible in your bruised, hurting state. This was all too much to deal with in one night, you decided suddenly. You were tired and hurting and you had a busy fucking day tomorrow, damn it.

You pulled your blankets back and turned off the light, climbing gingerly into bed. Maybe if you were lucky, you would wake up in the morning to all of this having been some wild fucking nightmare. Not that you were ever that lucky.

#peter parker x reader #peter parker #spider-man x reader #spider-man #marvel x reader #marvel #andrew garfield x reader #andrew garfield #marvel comics

9 notes · View notes

thatgirlonstage · 2 years

Text

Play and scene citations below the cut, for the curious.

"A man is force fed a leek as punishment for making fun of them": Henry V, 5.1. The Welsh captain Fluellen forces Pistol to eat a leek after he has repeatedly mocked the captain for wearing a leek in his hat. The leek is a national emblem of Wales, and the captain is wearing it as a commemoration of Welsh victory over the Saxons on St. David's Day.

"'Bro I am more breathless at the sight of you than my wife on our wedding night'": Coriolanus, 4.5. Upon Coriolanus's defection from his home country of Rome he turns to his previous arch-enemy, the Volscian Aufidius, with an offer to bring down Rome together. Aufidius welcomes him with open arms, and his monologue when Coriolanus first arrives includes the following lines: "Know thou first, / I loved the maid I married; never man / Sighed truer breath; but that I see thee here, / Thou noble thing, more dances my rapt heart / Than when I first my wedded mistress saw / Bestride my threshold."

"Challenging so many people to duels you run out of gloves and have to borrow one": Richard II, 4.1. After Richard II has been functionally deposed by Bolingbroke (later Henry IV), the court is in chaos. The Lord Aumerle was one of the few to remain at Richard II's side until his surrender and ends up having accusations thrown at him and fighting with the other lords. He engages himself in so many duels that he has to ask someone else to borrow a glove to throw down in challenge (throwing down a glove was a traditional way of challenging someone to a duel)

"Exit, pursued by a bear": Winter's Tale, 3.3. Ordered by King Leontes to abandon his wife's daughter in the wilderness for her questionable parentage, a man named Antigonus leaves the baby in the woods on the shores of Bohemia, where he is subsequently chased, killed, and eaten by a bear.

"What if I was a woman dressed as a man dressed as a woman and we flirted": As You Like It, multiple scenes. Forced to flee court by her usurping uncle, Rosalind disguises herself as a man for safety. She then runs into Orlando, a young man with whom she'd made a brief romantic connection back at court. Rosalind-in-disguise-as-a-man offers to help Orlando hone his wooing skills so that he might win Rosalind's hand. In order to do this, she roleplays as herself to let him practice with her.

"Maybe if we disguise ourselves as *checks notes* Russians the ladies will like us": Love's Labours Lost, 5.2. The four men in the romantic pairings at the center of the play put on disguises as Russians ("Muscovites", meaning from the Duchy of Moscow) to entertain and court the ladies in disguise.

"Literally anything that happens in Cymbeline." Cymbeline. What the fuck is going on in that play.

#shakespeare

194 notes · View notes

themthouse · 1 year

Text

The Internet Archive, Misinformation & the Problem of Digital Lending

I am in the embarrassing situation of having reblogged a post with misinformation. Specifically, the "Save the Internet Archive" post featuring the below image and its associated link to a website called "Battle for Libraries".

The post claims that the recent lawsuit the IA faced threatened all IA projects, including the Wayback Machine, which is not true. The link to a petition to "show support for the Internet Archive, libraries’ digital rights, and an open internet with uncensored access to knowledge" only has one citation, which is the internet archive's own blog.

After looking for more context, I found that even articles published from sources I trusted didn't seem to adequately cover the complexity of what is going on. Here's what I think someone who loves libraries but is hazy about copyright law and the digital lending world should know to understand what happened and why it matters. I am from the U.S., so the information below is specifically referring to laws protecting American public libraries. I am not a librarian, author or copyright lawyer. This is a guide to make it easier to follow the arguments of people more directly invested in this lawsuit, and the potential additional lawsuits to come.

Table of Contents:

First-Sale Doctrine & the Economics of E-books

Controlled Digital Lending (CDL)

The “National Emergency Library” & Hachette v. Internet Archive

Authors, Publishers & You

-- Authors: Ideology v. Practicality

-- Publishers: What Authors Are Paid

-- You: The Ethics of Piracy

First-Sale Doctrine & the Economics of E-Books

Libraries are digitizing. This is undisputed. As of 2019, 98% of public libraries provided Wi-Fi, 90% provided basic digital literacy programs, and most importantly for this conversation, 94% provided access to e-books and other digital materials. The problem is that for decades, the American public library system has operated on a bit of common law exhaustion applied to copyright known as first-sale doctrine, which states:

"An individual who knowingly purchases a copy of a copyrighted work from the copyright holder receives the right to sell, display or otherwise dispose of that particular copy, notwithstanding the interests of the copyright owner."

With digital media, however, because there isn't a physical sale happening, first sale doctrine doesn't apply. This wasn't a huge problem back in the early 2010s when most libraries were starting to go digital because the price of a perpetual e-book license was only $14 -- about the price of single physical book. Starting in 2018, however, publishers started limiting how long a single e-book license would last. From Pew Charitable Trusts:

"Today, it is common for e-book licenses from major publishers to expire after two years or 26 borrows, and to cost between $60 and $80 per license, according to Michele Kimpton, the global senior director of the nonprofit library group LYRASIS... While consumers paid $12.99 for a digital version, the same book cost libraries roughly $52 for two years, and almost $520 for 20 years."

Publishers argue that because it's so easy to borrow a digital copy of a book from the library, offering libraries e-book licenses at the same price as individual consumers undermines an author's right to license and profit from the exclusive rights to their works. And they're not entirely wrong about e-book lending affecting e-book sales -- since 2014, e-book sales have decreased while digital library lending has only gone up. The problem, they say, is that e-book lending is simply too easy. Whereas before, e-book sales were competing with the less-convenient option of going to the library and checking out a physical copy, there is essentially no difference for the reader between buying or lending an e-book outside of its cost.

Which brings us to the librarians, authors and lawmakers of today, trying to find any solution they can to make digital media accessible, affordable and still profitable enough to make a livable income for the writers who create the books we read.

Further Reading:

1854. Copyright Infringement -- First Sale Doctrine

The surprising economics of digital lending

Librarians and Lawmakers Push for Greater Access to E-Books

Publishing and Library E-Lending: An Analysis of the Decade Before Covid-19

Controlled Digital Lending (CDL)

Controlled digital lending is a legal theory at the heart of the Internet Archive lawsuit that has been proposed as one solution to the economic issue with digital media lending. This quick fix is especially appealing to nonprofits like the IA that are not government, tax-funded programs. Where many other solutions, like a legally enforced max price on e-book licensure for public libraries, would not apply to the IA, CDL would essentially be manipulating copyright law itself as a way to avoid e-book licensure altogether and would apply to the IA as well as public libraries.

Essentially, proponents of CDL argue that through a combination of first-sale and fair use doctrine, it can be legal for libraries to digitize the physical copies of books they have legally paid for and loan those digital copies to one person at a time as if they were loaning the original physical copy.

It is worth noting that the first-sale doctrine protecting physical media lending at public libraries does not cover reproductions:

“The right to distribute ends, however, once the owner has sold that particular copy. See 17 U.S.C. § 109(a) & (c). Since the first sale doctrine never protects a defendant who makes unauthorized reproductions of a copyrighted work, the first sale doctrine cannot be a successful defense in cases that allege infringing reproduction.”

This is where fair use comes in, which allows some flexibility in copyright law for nonprofit educational and noncommercial uses. Because the IA and other online collections are nonprofit organizations, proponents of CDL argue that they are covered by fair use so long as their use of CDL follows very specific rules, such as:

A library must own a legal copy of the physical book, by purchase or gift.

The library must maintain an “owned to loaned” ratio, simultaneously lending no more copies than it legally owns.

The library must use technical measures to ensure that the digital file cannot be copied or redistributed.

While this model first earned its name in 2018, it has been practiced by a number of digital collections like The Internet Archive’s Open Library since as early as 2010. It is important to know that controlled digital lending has never been proven officially legal in court. It is a theoretical legal practice that has passed by mostly unchallenged until the Internet Archive lawsuit. This is partially due to the fact that before releasing their official CDL statement in 2018, the IA had been honoring Digital Millennium Copyright Act (DMCA) takedown requests of books in CDL circulation, which authors claim they are not always responding to or honoring anymore. The legality of CDL essentially depends on a judge's interpretation of current copyright law and whether they see the practice as an infringement, which would set a precedent for similar cases moving forward.

There are, however, U.S. court decisions that have rejected similar cases, like Capitol Records v. ReDigi, which argues that digital files (in this case, music files) cannot be resold without copyright holder’s permission on the grounds that digital files do not deteriorate in the same way that physical media does, implying that first sale doctrine doesn’t apply to digital media.

In 2019, the Authors Guild, a group of American authors who advocate for the rights of writers to earn a living wage and practice free speech, pointed out this court case in an article condemning CDL practices. They also argued that not only does CDL undermine e-book licensure (and therefore author profits off e-book sales), but it also would effectively shut down the e-book market for older books (the market for copyrighted books that were published before e-books became popular and are only being digitized and sold now). The National Writers Union has also released an “Appeal from the victims of Controlled Digital Lending (CDL),” that cites many of the same complaints.

Further Reading:

U.S. Copyright Office Fair Use Index

Position Statement on Controlled Digital Lending by Libraries

FAQ on Controlled Digital Lending [Released by NYU Law’s Engelberg Center on Innovation Law & Policy]

Controlled Digital Lending Is Neither Controlled nor Legal

Appeal from the victims of Controlled Digital Lending (CDL)

FAQ on Controlled Digital Lending [Released by the National Writers Union]

The "National Emergency Library" & Hachette v. Internet Archive

While the Internet Archive is known as the creator and host of the Wayback Machine and many other internet and digital media preservation projects, the IA collection in question in Hachette v. Internet Archive is their Open Library. The Open Library has been digitizing books since as early as 2005, and in early 2011, began to include and distribute copyrighted books through Controlled Digital Lending (CDL). In total, the IA includes 3.6 million copyrighted books and continues to scan over 4,000 books a day.

During the early days of the pandemic, from March 24, 2020, to June 16, 2020, specifically, the Internet Archive offered their National Emergency Library, which did away with the waitlist limitations on their pre-existing Open Library. Instead of following the strict rules laid out in the Position Statement on Controlled Digital Lending, which mandates an equal “owned to loaned” ratio, the IA allowed multiple readers to access the same digitized book at once. This, they said, was a direct emergency response to the worldwide pandemic that cut off people’s access to physical libraries.

In response, on June 1, 2020, Hachette Book Group, HarperCollins, John Wiley & Sons, and Penguin Random House filed a lawsuit against the IA over copyright infringement. Out of their collective 33,000 copyrighted titles available on Open Library, the publishers’ lawsuit focused on 127 books specifically (known in the legal documentation as the “Works in Suit”). After two years of argument, on March 24, 2023, Judge John George Koeltl ruled in favor of the publishers.

The IA’s fair use defense was found to be insufficient as the scanning and distribution of books was not found to be transformative in any way, as opposed to other copyright lawsuits that ruled in favor of digitizing books for “utility-expanding” purposes, such as Authors Guild, Inc. v. HathiTrust. Furthermore, it was found that even prior to the National Emergency Library, the Open Library frequently failed to maintain the “owned to loaned” ratio by not sufficiently monitoring the circulation of books it borrows from partner libraries. Finally, despite being a nonprofit organization overall, the IA was found to profit off of the distribution of the copyrighted books, specifically through a Better World Books link that shares part of every sale made through that specific link with the IA.

It worth noting that this ruling specifies that “even full enforcement of a one-to-one owned-to-loaned ratio, however, would not excuse IA’s reproduction of the Works in Suit.” This may set precedent for future copyright cases that attempt to claim copyright exemption through the practice of controlled digital lending. It is unclear whether this ruling is limited to the National Emergency Library specifically, or if it will affect the Open Library and other collections that practice CDL moving forward.

Edit: I recommend seeing what @carriesthewind has to say about the most recent updates in the Internet Archive cases for a lawyers perspective of how these cases will effective the future of digital lending law in the U.S.

Further Reading:

Full History of Hachette Book Group, Inc. v. Internet Archive [Released by the Free Law Project]

Hachette v. Internet Archive ruling

Internet Archive Loses Lawsuit Over E-Book Copyright Infringement

The Fight Continues [Released by The Internet Archive]

Authors Guild Celebrates Resounding Win in Internet Archive Infringement Lawsuit [Released by The Authors Guild]

Relevant Court Cases:

Authors Guild, Inc. v. Google, Inc.

Authors Guild, Inc. v. HathiTrust

Capitol Records v. ReDigi

Authors, Publishers & You

This is where I’m going to be a little more subjective, because each person’s interpretation of events as I have seen has depended largely on their characterization and experience with the parties involved. Regardless of my own ideology regarding accessibility of information, the court ruling seems to be completely in line with current copyright law and precedent. Ironically, it seems that if the Internet Archive had not abandoned the strict rules regarding controlled digital lending for the National Emergency Library, and if they had been more diligent with upholding those rules with partner library loans prior to the NEL, they may have had a better case for controlled digital lending in the future. As is, I agree with other commentators that say any appeal the IA makes after this point is more likely to damage future digital lending practices than it is to save the IA’s current collection of copyrighted works in the Open Library. Most importantly, it seems disingenuous, and even dangerously inaccurate, to say that this ruling hurts authors, as the IA claimed in their response.

The IA argues that because of the current digital lending and sales landscape, the only way authors can make their books accessible digitally is through unfair licensing models, and that online collections like the IA’s Open Library offer authors freedom to have their books read. But this argument doesn’t acknowledge that many authors haven’t consented to having their works shared in this way, and some have even asked directly for their work to be removed, without that request being honored.

The problem is that both sides of this argument about the IA lawsuit claim to speak for authors as a group when the truth isn’t that simple.

Authors: Ideology v. Practicality

Those approaching the case from an ideological point of view, including many of the authors who signed Fight for the Future’s Open Letter Defending Libraries’ Rights in a Digital Age, tend to either have a history of sharing their works freely prior to the lawsuit (ex: Hanif Abdurraqib, who had published a free audio version of his book Go Ahead in The Rain on Spotify before Spotify began charging for audiobooks separately from their music subscriptions) or have alternative incomes related to their writing that don’t stem directly from book sales (ex: Neil Gaiman, who famously works with multiple mediums and adaptations of his writing).

In these cases, the IA lawsuit is framed as an ideological battle over the IA’s intention when releasing the National Emergency Library.

Many other authors, including a large number of smaller names and writers early in their careers, take a much more practical approach to the lawsuit, focused on defending their ability to monetarily profit off their works. This is by no means a reflection of their own ideology surrounding who has the right to information and whether libraries are worth protecting. Instead, it is a response to the fact that these authors love writing, and they simply would not be able to afford to continue writing in a world where they do not have the power to stop digital collections from distributing their copyrighted work without their consent. These include the authors, illustrators and book makes working with the Author’s Guild to submit their amicus brief in Hachette v. Internet Archive.

These authors claim that controlled digital lending practices cause significant harm to their incomes in the following ways:

CDL undermines e-book licensing and sales markets, as most consumers would choose a free e-book over paying for their own copy.

CDL devalues copyright, meaning authors have less bargaining power in future contract negotiations.

CDL undermines authors ability to republish, whether as a reprint or e-book, out of print books once their publisher has ceased production. This includes self-publishing after the rights to their work have been returned to them.

CDL removes the income from public lending rights (PLR) that authors receive from libraries outside of the U.S. which operate on different lending and copyright standards.

The amicus brief provides first-person anecdotes from authors, including Bruce Coville of The Unicorn Chronicles, about how the rights to backlisted books, or books without an immediately obvious market, make up a huge portion of their annual salary. Jacqueline Diamond cites reissues of out-of-print novels as what kept her afloat during her breast cancer treatment.

It is worth noting that according to the Author’s Guild, some authors who originally signed Fight for the Future’s open letter defending the Internet Archive have even retracted their support after learning more about the specific lawsuit, including Daniel Handler, who writes under the pseudonym Lemony Snicket. The confusion stems from the use of the term “library” by both the Internet Archive and Fight for the Future. While authors overwhelmingly support public libraries, online collections like the Internet Archive don’t always fit the same role or abide by the same regulations as tax-funded public libraries. Sandra Cisneros, author of The House on Mango Street, has written the following:

“To this day, I am angry that Internet Archive tells the world that it is a library and that, by bootlegging my books, it is simply doing what libraries have always done. Real libraries do not do what Internet Archive does. The libraries that raised me paid for their books, they never stole them.”

Further Reading:

Amicus Brief [Submitted by the Author’s Guild]

Fight for the Future’s Open Letter Defending Libraries’ Rights in a Digital Age

Joint Statement in Response to Fight for the Future’s Letter Falsely Claiming that the Lawsuit Against Internet Archive’s Open Library Harms Public Libraries [Published by the Author’s Guild]

Publishers: What Authors Are Paid

Some of the commentators I’ve seen are disgruntled specifically with the publishers suing the Internet Archive, and I will say that many of these complaints are valid. The four publishing companies behind the lawsuits (Hachette Book Group, HarperCollins Publishers, John Wiley & Sons, and Penguin Random House) are not known for the stellar treatment of their authors and employees. With the HarperCollins Publishers strike ending only a month before the IA lawsuit ruling, many readers are poised to support any entity at odds with one or more of the “Big Five” publishers. In this particular case, however, the power wielded by these publishing companies was used in defense of author’s rights to their works, for which The Authors Guild and other similar creator groups have expressed gratitude.

When it comes to finding solutions to the digital lending problem in general, it is important to understand what and how authors are paid for digital copies of their work. Jane Friedman has created the graphic below displaying the industry standards for the Big Five publishers. You can read more about agency and wholesome models here.

As you can see, authors and publishers alike benefit from e-book library licensure when compared to individual e-book sales, especially when you consider the time limits on library licensures. But advocates of this licensure model argue that the high prices for e-book licensure are designed to make up for the lost sales in e-books. While library goers buy more books than book buyers who don’t visit the library, the copies they buy typically vary by format. For example, a reader may borrow an audiobook from the library, decide they like it, and purchase a physical copy for their collection. While readers may buy a physical copy of a book after reading a physical library copy, they are unlikely to buy a digital copy after readying a digital library copy, making e-book lending a replacement for e-book buying in ways that physical lending doesn’t fully replace physical book purchases.

What ISN’T accounted for in this graphic is self-publication and what is known as a right of reversion. Depending on the wording of their contract, an author can request their publication rights be returned to them if the work in question is out of print and no longer being published. The publisher can then either return the work to “in print” status or return the rights to the author, who can then self-publish the work. In these cases, the 5-15% profit they would have made off their traditionally published book becomes a 35-70% profit as a self-published book. This is why authors are particularly frustrated with the IA’s argument that it is perfectly legal and ethical to release digital copies of books that are no longer in print. Those out-of-print works are where many authors earn their most reliable, long-term income, and they provide the largest opportunity for the authors to take control of their own works again and make fairer wages through self-publication.

The most obvious answer to this is that if authors are being the ones hit hardest by library and digital lending, then it is the publishers that need to treat their authors with better contracts. The fact that some authors are only earning 5% of profits on hardcover copies of their books (whether those are being sold to libraries or individuals) is eye opening. Alas, like the “we shouldn’t have to tip waiters” argument, this is much easier said than done.

Further Reading:

What Is the Agency Model for E-books? Your Burning Questions Answered

What Do Authors Earn from Digital Lending at Libraries?

You: The Ethics of Piracy

There are number of contributing factors to Tumblr’s enthusiasm for pirating. We are heavily invested in the media we consume, and it is easy to interpret (sometimes accurately) copyright as a weapon used by publishers and distant descendants of long-dead authors to restrict creativity and representation in adaptations of beloved texts. There are also legitimate barriers that keep us from legally obtaining media, whether that is the physical or digital inaccessibility of our local libraries and library websites, financial concerns, or censorship on an institutional or familial level. In fact, studies have found that 41% of book pirates also buy books, implying that a lot of illegal piracy is an attempt at format shifting (ripping CDs onto your computer to access them as MP3 files, for example, or downloading a digital copy of a book you already own in order to use the search feature).

The interesting thing is that copyright law in the U.S. has a specific loophole to allow for legal format shifting for accessibility purposes. This is due to the Chafee Amendment (17 U.S.C. § 121), passed in 1996, which focused on making published print material more available to people with disabilities that interfere with their ability to read print books, such as blindness, severe dyslexia and any physical disability that makes holding and manipulating a print book prohibitively difficult. In practice, this means nonprofits and government agencies in the U.S. are allowed to create and distribute braille, audio and digital versions of copyrighted books to eligible people without waiting for permission from the copyright holder. While this originally only applied to “nondramatic literary works,” updates to the regulations have been made as recently as 2021 to include printed work of any genre and to expand the ways “print-disabled” readers can be certified. Programs like Bookshare, Learning Ally, and the National Library Service for the Blind and Print-Disabled no longer require certification from a medical doctor to create an account. The Internet Archive also uses the Chafee Amendment to break their Controlled Digital Lending regulations for users with print disabilities. While applications of the Chafee Amendment are still heavily regulated, it is worth noting that even U.S. copyright law acknowledges the ways copyright contributes to making information inaccessible to a large amount of people.

Accessibility is not the only argument when discussing the morality of pirating. For some people, appreciation for piracy and shadow libraries comes from a background in archival work and an awareness how much of our historical archives today wouldn’t exist without pirated copies of media being made decades or even a century ago. But we have to be more careful about the way we talk about piracy. Though piracy is often talked about as a victimless crime, this is not always the case, and each one of us has a responsibility to critically think about our place in the media market and determine our own standards for when piracy is ethical. In some cases, such as the recent conversation surrounding the Harry Potter game, some people may even decide that pirating is a more ethical alternative to purchasing. Here are a few questions to consider when deciding whether or not to pirate a piece of media:

What other alternatives have you seen for legally purchasing, renting or borrowing a copy of this media?

Is the alternative to pirating this media purchasing it or not reading/referencing it at all?

Who does this particular piracy affect? Whether or not you think the creator(s) deserve to have their work pirated, you need to acknowledge there is someone who would otherwise be paid for their work.

If a significant portion of consumers pirated this work, what would the consequences be for future projects? Would you be willing to claim partial responsibility for that outcome?

I’m not making any moral statements about pirating as a whole, just noting that the way we discuss the consequences of pirating has a genuine effect on the media landscape. If you got this far, thank you so much for reading! It is genuine work to try and understand the complexity behind every day decisions, especially when the topic at hand is as complicated as the modern digital lending crisis.

Further Reading:

Panorama Project Releases Immersive Media & Books 2020 Research Report by Noorda and Berens

The Chafee Amendment: Improving Access To Information

National Center on Accessible Educational Materials

National Library Service for the Blind and Print Disabled

Books For People With Print Disabilites: The Internet Archive

Bookshare

Learning Ally

#Internet archive #IA lawsuit #digital lending #libraries #digital libraries #open library #controlled digital lending #national emergency library

132 notes · View notes

mickimomo · 2 years

Text

Late Night Thoughts with a Sleep Deprived Attoye Chef

Attuma's Indecent Exposure Citation

@umber-cinders birthed this idea. I just wrote it. 🤣

This is what I'm seeing:

M'Baku furrowed his eyebrows as he settled down on the throne. He recalled coming to an agreement with everyone that he wouldn't be holding any more meetings after the last one they had discussing the plans for Shuri's coronation ceremony.

The council, however, had called an emergency meeting.

Something about indecent exposure of a talokanil warrior and mortified people at a restaurant in the capital of Wakanda.

It only took him ten seconds to realize it had something to do with:

A. Okoye

because she was avoiding eye contact at all costs.

Okoye was the legendary bald-headed demon of Wakanda. She did not cower before anyone.

and

B. Attuma

because if Okoye was acting odd. It probably had something to do with her talokanil warrior.

And if he had to make a wild guess, it probably had to do with the dinner he had attended a few days ago.

"Glory to Hanuman." He grunted as he pinched the bridge of his nose as everyone stood and sat in their respective spots. "Why am I looking at you all while sitting on this throne?" He frowned. "Did you all forget that Shuri should be here and I should be sitting with the uptight people? Was that not our goal for our next meeting?"

Zawavari wrinkled her nose. "We would not be here if there were not reports of a certain blue man pummeling one of Wakanda's greatest disappointments into a table."

Attuma launched his axe at the council woman, intentionally missing her person by two centimeters before it got stuck in the floor.

The entire room was silent as they looked at the warrior in shock.

"I apologize. My axe fell." He feigned a smile before moving forward to retrieve it. Namor grunted something, forcing him to remain by his side.

"Fell!?" Zawavari snapped. "It flew!" She screamed. "He just tried to kill me!"

"Perhaps we should discuss this matter without referring to Okoye as a disappointment." M'Baku offered. "The people of Talokan tend to get violent when it comes to defending their lover's honor."

"She does not have honor!"

"And that axe did not kill you." He warned her.

Zawavari opened her mouth in shock before clenching her hands into tight fists. "He was pummeling Okoye into a table!" She snapped.

"Pummeling?"

"My king." She frowned.

"Pummeling implies fighting." He kissed his teeth. "Am I supposed to punish the shark man for sparring with his midnight angel?"

M'Kathu clicked his tongue. "That big blue man-" he pointed at Attuma. "-was being intimate with my niece."

M'Baku furrowed his eyebrows. "Define intimate."

"My king!" Zawavari cried out again.

"Intimate could be kissing and holding hands. Am I supposed to lock them up for being a couple?"

Aj K'uk'ulkan hid his smile behind his hand at the king's teasing.

Zawavari took a deep breath. "My king, I am trying to hold a proper discussion."

"Well, the properness is not making things clear."

She narrowed her eyes. "That blue man had sex with Okoye on a table at a local restaurant."

M'Baku tilted his head. "Is that so?"

"Yes, my king."

"And what do you suggest I do to punish them?"

"We would like to request that blue man be given a citation for indecent exposure."

"And what will a piece of paper do? Mm?" He arched a brow before looking to Namor. "Are you scared of paper?"

"No." He chuckled.

"The King of Talokan said no."

"Then kick him out!" The head of the River Tribe huffed. "I have been rather quiet about my opinion on the shark warrior, but this is too much!" He straightened up in his seat. "If we let him get away this, others will start. People who are eating and drinking do not want to see them in this manner!"

M'Baku rubbed his temples before looking at Namor.

He arched a brow.

The god king only shrugged.

He looked at Okoye.

"Did you actively participate in this?"

"Please don't make me speak on this matter."

"Ah?" He arched a brow. "Then you will be punished too."

"I will accept whatever punishment you give."

"Alright." He hummed. "I will banish Attuma of Talokan and Okoye of Wakanda from Wakanda for a week to atone for this crime. They will also be expected to apologize to the owners of the restaurant and assist with repairing any damages they may have caused." He looked to the council. "Does that sound good?"

They all nodded in consensus.

"Alright. The decision has been made. Can I end this meeting?"

Everyone nodded.

"Alright. Meeting adjourned-"

"-Aht. Aht!" Zawavari bolted up. "If they are both banished from Wakanda. They will be together!"

"Whatever happens outside of Wakanda is not of my concern." M'Baku waved off the woman before getting up.

"My king!" She scowled.

"It is outside my jurisdiction-o! Do not pester me!" He grunted. "I am tired."

Aneka and Oni looked at each other before exchanging a handshake and whisper.

"They about to be in Talokan hitting it back to back to- OW!" Aneka whined as Okoye smacked her over the head. "What was that for!"

She gave her a knowing look before walking away with a huff.

She was pissed, but relieved to have gotten off with such a light punishment.

Attuma wasn't going to get any affection during their punishment, and he knew it.

It was only fair since he had gotten her in trouble.

He could only help that after everything was over and they had completed their punishment, she'd be extremely needy for his touch.

After all, distance made the heart grow fonder.

And scene.

I kept it sweet, simple, and short.

But y'all. I'm getting kinda feral about that crack ship I was talking about the other day. 👀 I was trying not to let it show between the two kings. But I'm struggling. 🫣 Might have to write something.

#the sun and the sky au #okoye x attuma #attoye #attuma x okoye #okoye #attuma #mickimomo #okottuma #okoye x attuma fanfic #attuma x okoye fanfic #oni daughter of zuri #black panther oc #m'baku #namor #late night hours with the queen of smiles #aneka #the council is tired of Attuma

82 notes · View notes