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brighteyedjill · 3 years

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Why censor a fandom event?

Do the mods for a fandom event have the right to make restrictions on content? Sure. They’re volunteers running their own event.

But. Fandom is a culture that we build together. If we were just people enjoying media in our own homes, we would not be a community. But we’re not. We talk to each other, reblog each other’s amazing art, comment on AO3, squee in Discord channels over ideas, and so on. That’s what makes fandom great: we build it collectively. And like any culture, we have some shared norms. For example, since AO3 is a big influence on our culture, tagging has become a cultural norm in fandom. We tag for the “big four” warnings on AO3, and increasingly, tag more and more details of content to help people find what they like and avoid what they don’t.

Fandom events like Big Bangs shape fandom culture, too, though. They bring together people who might otherwise not know each other, and have a tendency to dominate the fandom conversation for a time. Restrictions in a Big Bang have a chilling effect on content creators. That means that some work will not get written because of these restrictions, and also that people’s opinions towards this kind of content may be influenced on a larger scale. I personally find this unfortunate, as some of the things on the restricted list are things I’ve written about, uh, a lot. But aside from just me, there are larger implications to consider. Read more about the history of strikethrough and content restriction to learn about who is harassed and excluded when fandom culture turns against “questionable” content.

I posit that restrictions like this are not always The Norm™ in fandom events, nor should they be. In a fandom like the Witcher, whose canon includes everything on the restricted list, most of them graphically, I believe content of a similar nature should be welcome in fandom content. I ran my first Big Bang in 2009, and have participated in half a dozen bangs and reverse bangs since. None of them had content restrictions (here’s an example of a Big Bang without content restrictions that’s been running since 2011). Some Big Bangs do; sometimes this is dependent on the canon content, more often it depends on who has power and influence in the fandom. Here’s a case for why not to include restrictions in future events.

What are these restrictions meant to do?

As I understand it, these restrictions are meant to make things more inclusive by allowing more people to participate. Are they successful in that? It’s possible they allow different people to participate. As with many things, there are competing access needs here. More on that below. But let’s look at what “making things more inclusive” means in practice.

Problem: We want to allow participation from people who don’t want to come into contact with dark content.

OK. Let’s help participants avoid coming into contact with dark content if they don’t want to. How might they come into contact with dark content?

1.) People might hear upsetting conversations in Discord chat

Solution: Ask people to post in the appropriate channel. Use a “walk away” rule to encourage people to leave the channel if a conversation comes up that they’re not comfortable with. If you want to go further, you could have people warn for certain topics, or restrict darker topics to a specific channel, though this runs up against a different issue (see below).

2) People might see content in the claims that they don’t like, or don’t want to work on.

Solution: Usually in a Big Bang the artists look at a list of summaries and tags and choose which fic(s) they’d like to work on. No artist is going to be forced to work on anything they don’t want to. Even artists who enjoy dark content are often illustrating something other than the darkest, most graphic, or most explicit moment of a fic. In a claiming situation, you can have writers tag their fics, just like they would on AO3, to allow artists to filter out content they’re not interested in or that they would find upsetting.

2.5) We won’t find any artist to work on certain pieces.

Solution: This happens sometimes. You could put out a call for more artist participants, allow artists to claim a second piece if they want, or you may have to tell a creator that there’s not a match for them. That is a bummer, but this happens sometimes, especially in fandoms where writers vastly outnumber artists. But in no scenario will any artist be forced to write for a piece that squicks them.

3) People might see content in the Big Bang collection that they don’t like.

Solution: This one’s pretty easy. Tagging. Tagging has been used on AO3 since its inception to help people avoid content they do not want to see. People don’t have to engage with content they don’t want to see if it is properly tagged.

4) The mods don’t personally want to engage with the content.

Solution: Find a mod who will, so that mods who don’t want to don’t have to! You can get a volunteer to do this, I guarantee.

5) I want to encourage the creation of lighter or SFW content.

Solution: I get that. Say so! Explain what content you welcome, and phrase what you’re looking for in a positive way (e.g. “We require that content be T rated or below and have a generally positive outlook and an upbeat ending.”) rather than what you don’t want. Be clear, specific, and up front about it, so that you connect with the creators you’re hoping will participate.

6) I think this content should not exist.

This is the one I can’t help you with. If the reason you’re banning content is because, consciously or unconsciously, you think that it’s morally reprehensible, or that the people who make it are bad, I do not have a solution to offer.

Competing Access Needs

I’m not going to get too far into the weeds on how making a list of restricted topics is impossible, because others have addressed this point. No matter what list you come up with, someone out there will find something you failed to list, but that you feel should be restricted. What to do? If they’ve already completed a fic, tell them to leave? Tell them they have to change it? Let it slide? There will be endless questions about what is and isn’t allowed, which is time-consuming and exhausting for mods, and paralyzing for creators. How do I know if this scene is un-graphic enough? Will I need to revise my whole fic? Will I get kicked out entirely if I write the wrong thing? Will some participants get preferential treatment or the benefit of the doubt because of their identities or their connections?

Censorship brings up competing access needs. Someone doesn’t want to see non-con. Someone is writing non-con fic to work through their own trauma. Someone is writing it for other reasons. Can you accommodate all these folks? I would say yes, in the ways detailed above. But when you start restricting content (as in Strikethrough or Boldthrough, discussed in the history link above), you’re not wielding a scalpel. You’re wielding an anvil, and you’re gonna crush things you didn’t mean to crush. Again, check out the history link to see who gets crushed.

So… what to do?

Do I think people should change the rules for the events they’re running? No (john mulaney we are well past that.gif). As I said, people who are running their own events have the prerogative to restrict them for whatever audience they’re hoping to reach. Questioning fandom practices is not “shitting on” anyone (and hey--no scat allowed).

What I would really like is for Witcher fandom to have a think about how we want to proceed as a community. What should be the norm? Witcher fandom culture (in its current form, i.e. big) is still relatively young. There can be variation, sure: Discord server vibes vary wildly, for example. But in the big events or activities that we hope will be open to the largest part of the community, how do we want to intentionally foster the maximum amount of great content about our favorite things? There are ways to be inclusive that do not involve censorship, and I believe we should use them.

#I've seen bad things happen in other fandoms #I really like y'all and I would like the Witcher fandom to continue to be a place that is inclusive of all content #the witcher #fandom meta #censorship is the worst ship

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the-modernmary · 3 years

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my best habit || aaron hotchner x reader (ch. 6)

Chapter summary: Your weekend at Aaron’s place continues, and he reflects on your relationship and what it all means. The team finds out.

Warnings: morning sex, thigh riding, little bit of dirty talk? allusions to office sex. pretty tame tbh. minors DNI

A/N: Posting these on tumblr is so much fun because I forgot that this is one of my favorite chapters in this whole story. This chapter is pretty long, but it has Hotch’s pov and team shenanigans, and pining!! Thank you all so much for your likes and reblogs and just all of the sweet things everybody has said so far about this story!!! As always, my ask box is always open if anybody wants to talk about this story or CM/hotch in general, or just wants somebody to talk to!!

masterlist || read on ao3

“You call the shots babe

I just wanna be yours

Secrets I have held in my heart

Are harder to hide than I thought

Maybe I just wanna be yours

I wanna be yours, I wanna be yours”

- Arctic Monkeys, “I Wanna Be Yours”

~~~~~~~

If there was one thing you liked more than sleeping with Aaron, you decided, it was waking up next to him. That was probably in part because it just didn’t happen very often. Most mornings were a frantic rush to get to work or school, and too often Aaron was up, showered, and dressed before you even got out of bed. It worked, though, and you didn’t have to worry about your respective morning routines being thrown off.

It was also the same reason the two of you kept clothes at each other’s places. One of the first times Aaron had spent the night at your apartment, he got called into the BAU early for a case and couldn’t go home to change, which meant he had spent an entire week in some tiny Montana town avoiding the questioning stares of everybody on his team, trying to figure out where he had spent the night.

Or there was the time when you decided to tease Aaron a little too much and he ended up tearing the buttons off your blouse, meaning you had to find a way to style one of his oversized button ups to wear to court. Having a drawer at each other’s places wasn’t some big declaration of feelings or taking things to the next step, it was just being smart and proactive.

And as a bonus, the efficiency of the morning routines plus already having clothes meant plenty of time for morning sex.

Aaron’s arm was draped lazily over your waist, not exactly pulling you in towards him, and keeping you at a distance. But it was comforting all the same knowing that, even in his sleep, he still wanted you. At the beginning of your fling, you had teased Aaron for being a cuddler, and he had just said it was because he liked knowing that you were safe and with him and that it grounded him. It didn’t take much longer for you to realize that Aaron Hotchner was a lot lonelier than he let on.

You could feel Aaron’s breath on the back of your neck as you stretched languidly, every muscle in your body happily sore. It would be so easy to just fall back asleep and let the morning pass both of you by. You had all weekend, and you were sure that you and Aaron would need your rest whenever you could get it. You pulled the covers closer to your frame and curled up even more, savoring the warmth of the bed and letting out a content sigh.

“If you keep stealing the covers,” came Aaron’s raspy mumble, “We’re going to have to start using two separate blankets.”

A small smile tugged on the corners of your lips as you turned around so you could face Aaron. He must have been up for a while if he was already using full sentences, which meant that he had made the somewhat conscious decision to stay in bed with you. Those stupid butterflies from the night before came back in full force. His eyes were still closed, but he had a smug smirk gracing his face as he pulled you closer to him, your legs quickly tangling with his.

Another good thing about waking up next to Aaron was that he looked downright sinful in the mornings, especially when he had just the faintest hint of stubble on his chin like he did then. The lines of his perpetually furrowed brows all but disappeared and his hair was much messier than usual, although you were more than likely the cause of that last night. You could see the faint scratches on his shoulders and bruises on his collarbone, also your doing.

You were sure you had just as many marks on your body, if not more. Aaron was patient and he knew how to read every little reaction you gave him in order to make you a whimpering mess. You probably would have been annoyed at how easily he could read you if it didn’t feel so good.

You let out a soft “humph” as you buried your face into his bare chest, breathing him in. “Maybe if you didn’t insist on making your house an icebox…”

Your words trailed off as Aaron slipped his hand that was on your back under your - his - shirt so that he could run his fingers up and down your spine. He propped his head up on his other hand, finally letting his eyes open to look at you. The sunlight filtering through the window brought out the tiny flecks of gold in his eyes.

“Wanted to make sure you stayed in bed,” he admitted, his eyes shamelessly tracing you up and down and you could feel his growing morning wood pressed against you.

You squeezed your thighs together as you traced small patterns over his bare chest with your fingertips. “By making it too cold for me to even grab a jacket?” you teased.

Aaron just shrugged, still mindlessly rubbing the bare skin of your back. “It worked, didn’t it? Besides…” His hand moved to rest on your waist, his thumb teasing the underside of your breast. “I can think of a few ways to warm up.”

You smirked and lifted your head to bring a kiss up to his neck, leaving a small bruise in its wake. “Oh?” you asked with a lifted eyebrow. “I wouldn’t mind going for round two.”

A giggle slipped past your lips as Aaron rolled over, pulling you on top of him so that you were straddling his hips. “By the end of this weekend, we’ll definitely get to round two,” he mumbled in between kisses. “Or round three..” Another kiss. “Maybe four…” Another kiss. “Five if we’re feeling especially ambitious.” His fingers hooked on the waistband of your underwear, pulling them down swiftly.

You smiled into the kisses and you let your fingers run through Aaron’s hair, your nails lightly scratching at his scalp. You could feel his erection pressing against you and you grinded down on him. Aaron rewarded you with one of his delicious moans. His hands slid up your sides and pulled off the shirt you were wearing in one fluid motion, his mouth immediately attaching to your nipple, his tongue moving in circles as his lips pulled and tugged until you cried out his name.

His hands moved back down to grip your hips, slowly rocking your hips back and forth on him. “Aaron,” you breathed out, your senses completely overwhelmed. He was sitting up now and kissing his way up to your neck, determined to leave you with as many marks as possible.

“Do you wanna cum like this?” he practically growled, his scruff brushing against your sensitive skin. “Grinding on my thigh, greedy and desperate? Was three orgasms not enough last night?”

You gripped his shoulders, moving your hips faster now, dizzy with want. “Yes, fuck ,” you moaned, pressing down with as much force as you could muster, only the thin fabric of his pajamas pants keeping you from what you wanted. Nothing would be close enough to him, but you could certainly try. Aaron lifted his thigh and his grip on your hips got tighter, already forming bruises.

Aaron watched you intently as you felt your orgasm build up, his lips parted ever so slightly. He loved to watch you fall apart, loved the power it gave him. And you loved to watch him watch you come apart, because the open-mouth smile he gave you made it look like he worshiped the ground you walked on. You were all too willing to give him a show.

You threw your head back as you panted, desperate for your release. “Please, I’m so close,” you begged, speeding up your hips even more.

He released one hand from your hips and dragged his nails up your body, leaving little pink lines in his wake, until his hand could rest comfortably on your throat. Aaron didn’t put any pressure, but you were wound so tightly that any touch would have set you off.

“Cum for me ,” Aaron demanded, and your body immediately listened

Your whole body shook as your orgasm slammed into you, but you managed to keep your eyes locked with his, giving him a primal smile, which only made his eyes darken even more with lust. Aaron took the hand on your throat and moved it up to cup your cheek, pulling you in for a kiss. It was needy and desperate, maybe even a little clumsy as you lifted off his lap just enough to finally pull his pajama pants down.

You reached your hand down to pump him lazily a few times, your thumb swiping over the tip of his cock teasingly. Part of you wanted to tease Aaron, to see if you could make him whine and beg for you to fuck him. A larger, needier part of you just wanted to ride Aaron so that you could hear more praises from him.

Aaron made that decision for you. “Do you think you’re going to ride me?” he asked condescendingly, as if to say you’re cute if you think you’re in charge.

You continued to stroke Aaron’s erection, twisting your wrist in just the right way to get Aaron to moan for you. “I will if you ask nicely,” you mused, your voice even, but even as you said it, you were already slowly sinking down on his cock, moaning at the feeling of him stretching you. You were still a little sore from last night, but it quickly turned into pleasure.

Before you could fully take all of him into you, Aaron snapped his hips up, hitting you in all the right places. You gasped out, your pussy clenching involuntarily around him.

That just made Aaron smirk and thrust up into you again. “I don’t need to ask to take what’s mine,” he hissed, but his voice was strained, like it was taking all of his energy to keep a steady tone. “And you, my dear, are mine.”

Every word was just encouragement for you to ride him faster, wanting to hear him moan some more. “I’m yours,” you agreed, burying your face in his neck.

He took one of your hands that was clinging onto his shoulder for dear life and guided it down to your clit. “Touch yourself,” he ordered, leaning back just enough so that he could get a good look at you. “I want to watch you.”

You immediately started to circle your swollen clit, and the stimulation was almost too much. Almost. But the look on Aaron’s face as he watched you work yourself over, so full of lust and want, was more than enough encouragement for you.

“Like this?” you asked innocently, and you could feel his dick throb inside you.

Aaron let your name fall from his lips, coming out as a sigh. “Fuck, that’s hot,” he groaned before capturing your lips in a kiss.

It didn’t take long for you to cum again, moaning his name into his lips as your walls fluttered around him. You didn’t dare stop kissing him, though, and you especially didn’t dare stop riding Aaron. You wanted to feel him deeper in you. Your legs were shaking and a thin sheen of sweat covered you, but you wanted him to come apart, lose control.

When he came, he held you in place and pressed his forehead against yours, wanting to watch every little reaction you made. You whimpered as he filled you, his dick twitching inside of you. You were exhausted in the best way and your skin was warm to the touch. The two of you stayed like that for a few appreciative moments, heavy breathing being the only sound in the room.

It really was easy to imagine that this was your life, to pretend that you would be able to wake up next to Aaron and have two orgasms before breakfast as much as you wanted. But reality came back all too harshly in the form of Aaron’s phone ringing. Both of you let out groans of annoyance as you pulled yourself off of him. Aaron technically had weekends off, but he was always on call, which meant no phone call could go unanswered.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, reaching over to the nightstand to grab his cell.

�� You chuckled and placed a quick kiss on his lips. “So much for round two, hm?” you teased. “You answer that. I’m going to go shower.” You winced as you climbed out of bed, feeling the soreness spread across your body. You were going to get absolutely wrecked this weekend, and you honestly couldn’t wait. You looked back at Aaron as he answered the phone, and you were surprised to see him staring right at you, looking at you with a softness that nobody had ever looked at you with before. It terrified you.

~~~~~~~

Sometimes, Aaron wondered what Y/N was getting out of this… whatever this was. Companionship, maybe, but he couldn’t imagine she had any problems in that area. She was young, pretty, and charming, and he had seen her turn down a handful of numbers that were thrown her way by men much more suitable for her.

At the very beginning, he thought that maybe she was just trying to get an extra foot in the door of her career. He wondered if she was just overly ambitious and calculating, and used his lust for her to get exactly what she wanted. But that theory was tossed to the side almost as quickly as he thought about it when she had announced proudly that she was doing her project in her Torts class on a case that he had overseen at the beginning of his prosecuting career.

“The other cases were more interesting,” she had told him teasingly, “But it’s going to be so much fun to see your face when I rip your argument to shreds.”

Yeah, she didn’t need him to succeed in her career. She was going to do just fine.

So the only other reason he could think of was that she just genuinely enjoyed his company and wanted to be around him. That would certainly explain why she snuck around with him for almost an entire year, rendezvousing at unpredictable times and keeping their knowledge of each other a secret. It would also explain why she was so willing to let him back into her life as if nothing had changed. She was smart enough to know that Aaron was a changed man and that there would be a lot more baggage this time around, but none of that seemed to bother her.

Although he couldn’t quite figure out why she stuck around, he couldn’t deny that it made him happy. He liked having somebody around who genuinely wanted to spend time with him, instead of just being around because they worked together, like an obligation. Aaron liked to think that he had gotten pretty good at predicting the things she might ask for, and he was more than happy to keep giving them to her if it meant she would stick around for a while longer.

After the phone call that was entirely too long and completely unnecessary, Aaron grabbed some clothes and went to rinse off in the shower quickly. He heard Y/N get out of the shower and start to raid his kitchen minutes before, which he had already planned for. On a whim during his bi-weekly grocery store run, he grabbed a few things for when she inevitably stayed over - caramel syrup for coffee, an extra toothbrush, a pack of hair ties to keep in his bathroom, and a bag of her favorite salt-and-vinegar chips.

Once he got dressed and ready for the day, he walked out into the kitchen, where she was talking on her phone, leaning on the counter and laughing, a cup of iced coffee right next to her. “Yeah, no,” he heard her say. “I think it’s going really well and- I know. I learned my lesson about the melatonin thing.”

At the sound of his footsteps, she turned her head and smiled at Aaron, noticing his presence. She kept her eyes locked with his as she continued her phone conversation. “Hey, I have to go, but I’ll-” she paused, obviously cut off by the person on the other side of the line. A blush spread across her cheeks and she laughed again. “Oh my god, shut the fuck up. I will talk to you later. Goodbye, my love.”

Aaron watched the interaction with curiosity. Every once in awhile, he would catch glimpses of the college student version of her that he rarely saw. She always held herself with such an air of confidence and intelligence around him, and she was so quick-witted that it was easy to forget that she was still just a law student, still finding her way in the world. She seemed to carefully plan the version of herself that she would be in front of Aaron, and even more carefully hid the versions of herself that she didn’t want to be.

It had intrigued him when she was helping with the case, hearing her in a professional setting. He knew she was smart and good at what she did, but seeing it in practice was an entirely different thing.

However, the case also brought another facet of who Y/N was. Hearing her conversations with her friends, listening to her gossip and being more carefree, was different. There was a girlish quality to her that he had never really seen, and it confused him. He wanted to fuck her until she was screaming out his name, crying and begging for him. He wanted to see her smile up at him while she was on her knees. Hell, he even wanted to just lay on the couch and listen to her talk about her classes, let her tell him all about the weird guy who wears a full three-piece suit to class, and share take out with her.

But now, he also wanted to protect her, but he wasn’t quite sure from what. The reality of the profession she was going into? The many corporate men who were bound to just see her as a pretty thing? The world? Himself, maybe?

She slipped the phone into her back pocket, blissfully unaware of the thoughts swirling in Aaron’s brains. “Sorry, that was Aly, my friend,” she explained before he even had a chance to ask.

Aaron gave a soft hum of acknowledgment. “Aly... That’s the one you lived with in high school after your mom-”

“Yeah,” she cut him off firmly, signifying the end of that conversation. “That’s her. Do you have to go to work?”

Aaron could have sworn he heard the slightest bit of disappointment in her question, and it tugged at his heart, because he had heard that exact question with that exact hidden disappointment too many times.

It was unfair to compare her to Haley, and he knew that. She didn’t want to be his “New Haley” something she had made very clear two years ago. Neither of them expected this to lead to wedding bells, a white picket fence, and a dog, and they weren’t going to make major sacrifices to be with each other, especially in regards to their respective careers. The disappointment was more than likely him projecting.

That didn’t stop the twinge of guilt that threatened to consume him.

“No, I don’t,” he finally said. “Metro PD had a question about some of the files that were sent over about the case, which could and should have been handled by the agents actually working today instead of going straight to me.” Aaron had a hard time hiding the growing annoyance in his words. It wasn’t the officers’ fault they got shit training.

She shot an amused smirk Aaron’s way, bringing her coffee up to her lips. “Aw, that’s cute,” she teased. “Maybe they just wanted answers from the big boss man?”

Aaron scoffed as he made his way towards his Keurig, which was already loaded with his brew of choice and a mug readily placed, no doubt Y/N’s doing. All he needed to do was press a button. She was pretty good at anticipating his wants, too, and even better at knowing what he needed before he even knew.

“Yeah, well, arresting a group of prolific lawyers isn’t going to be anything short of a pain in the ass.”

Once his coffee was poured, he turned back to face Y/N, whose eyes were now unfocused and deep in thought. “Right, yeah,” she murmured, more to herself than to Aaron. “They’re all going to jail…”

Aaron’s eyebrows furrowed as he watched her mouth to herself. She did that when she was trying to work out a problem, like she was presenting the arguments and counter-arguments to herself. “Penny for your thoughts?” he asked.

Her eyes snapped back up to Aaron, as if she just remembered he was there. “I just- You can’t have a law firm without the partners and I just realized that I don’t have an internship anymore, which I’m going to have to try and explain to my professors because I need those credits to graduate. And I don’t have a job offer either, which means I am back at the bottom.”

“I’m sorry,” Aaron said, unable to think of anything better to say. Truth be told, he hadn’t considered the collateral damage to the rest of the employees who had no clue what was going on behind closed doors.

She shrugged, but her eyes were still distant. “Oh, it’s fine. I didn’t even want to work in the private sector long term. Prosecutors all work for the government, anyway. The private sector only has the specialized training programs, flexible hours, ability to choose your own clients, and the crazy high salaries…” She trailed off almost dreamily before taking an audible breath.

“Well…” Aaron started, choosing every word carefully. He knew that he was walking a tightrope and that his next offer could very easily come back and bite him in the ass, but it wasn’t the first time Aaron had bent the rules, and it wasn’t going to be his last. “I can’t do much in the way of a job offer, but the FBI does hire interns for our in house legal team. It’s not exactly prosecuting, but it would be closer to your career goals. You would still need to apply, but I know the head of the division and I’m sure we could expedite your application.”

Her knuckles turned white as she gripped her coffee cup so tight that Aaron was sure it was going to shatter. “I don’t need to sleep my way to an internship,” she said sharply.

Aaron nodded in agreement. “I know that, and you’re not,” he promised. “This is an offer from the BAU Unit chief as an official thank you from the FBI for your help in the investigation.” Noticing her hesitation, he decided to continue. “My reputation is on the line, too. I wouldn’t be suggesting this if I didn’t think you deserved it. You’re top of your class and the head of law review. I can show them the audio files of the work you’ve done this past week at the other internship. It’s still merit based, and you would still have to beat out other candidates, but I would ensure your application gets looked at immediately. Can you get me a copy of your transcript and resume?”

The tension from her shoulders released slightly, but she was still staring at Aaron cautiously, weighing her options. “Yes,” she whispered finally, before repeating it louder and with more confidence. “I can email them to you right now. Thank you, Aaron. Really.”

Aaron smiled down at her. “It’s no problem. The FBI would be lucky to have you. And Y/N…” he added, making a lighthearted attempt at breaking through the tension. “I have a direct line to the director. If you wanted to sleep your way to the top, I would hope you would be more ambitious to shoot for something a little more prestigious than a temporary internship.”

Y/N laughed, her entire demeanor switching back to the more playful version of herself. “So does this mean I don’t get to give you a thank you?” she asked, bringing her bottom lip in between her teeth.

Aaron raised his eyebrows and smirked, using one of his fingers to lift her chin up to him. “What did you have in mind?”

She raised herself on her toes just high enough to give him a quick peck on the lips before bouncing away from him. It would be cute if he didn’t see the smug grin that erupted across her face. “I make the best breakfast burritos you’ll ever have,” she told him matter-of-factly, throwing a cheeky smile his way.

Aaron chuckled, ignoring the way his chest tightened. “Do you make a habit of making breakfast for all the people who offer you jobs?”

She clicked her tongue as she rifled through his fridge, pulling out all the ingredients she would need. “Only the ones I really like,” she mused. “And I figure we’re both going to need the nutrition if we’re going to get to those five rounds this weekend that you promised.”

Aaron’s chest tightened even more, and for the first time since he met Y/N, he wondered if he was in way over his head.

~~~~~~~

It had become almost a tradition of sorts in the BAU, guessing why Hotch had his office door closed. It started as nervous chatter - Was somebody after them? Was Strauss making another plan to rip apart the team? - but the team realized that the more ridiculous the guess, the easier it was to wait for an actual answer. So the BAU team, minus Rossi and Hotch, all sat around their desks, only half paying attention to their work as they talked amongst themselves.

This morning, the prevailing theory was that, since Hotch got into work early, he decided to fall back asleep. His office was completely closed off to the rest of the bullpen, even going as far as shutting the blinds. They couldn’t blame him - he probably wasn’t getting much sleep at home being a single dad, and they knew that the brass gave him way more paperwork than one man should ever have to handle. Him taking a quick power nap in his offer was, in their eyes, completely deserved.

Which is why they were surprised when a familiar figure emerged from his office, shaking his hand quickly before making her way towards the glass doors, combing her fingers through her hair.

“Why was Y/N Y/L/N talking to Hotch?” Reid asked, sitting up slightly in his chair.

Garcia, who was sitting on the edge of Morgan’s desk, had a confused look on her face. “Who?” she asked, pouting only slightly. She didn’t like to be out of the loop.

Emily repeated the name back to her. “She’s the one who helped us on that hitman case, but I thought we closed that two weeks ago?”

Garcia’s confusion only increased. “If she’s talking to Hotch, does that mean it’s not closed? Why wouldn’t he tell all of us?”

Morgan shrugged, watching Y/N as she made her way across the bullpen. “I guess we’ll find out now, won’t we?” Morgan waved her over, and if she was surprised by it, she hid it well.

“Hey, Y/N,” JJ greeted, and the younger woman waved at the group. “It’s good to see you again. Is everything okay? You were in there for a while.”

Y/N nodded enthusiastically, a small blush rising onto her cheeks. “Yeah, everything’s great! That internship was required for me to be able to graduate this year, and since I helped with the investigation, the FBI was kind enough to offer me an intern position here. Unfortunately, the legal team director got swept up in meetings this morning, so Agent Hotchner went over the intake paperwork with me,” she explained, almost too casually. The words rolled off her tongue like they had been rehearsed.

“Well then, congrats and welcome to the FBI,” Emily said. “If you ever need anything, you know where to find us.”

“I am always looking for a lunch buddy,” Garcia interjected, “Especially when the rest of them are off on a case. Oh, and you should come out to drinks with us one night!”

Y/N chuckled and shoved her hands into her pockets. “Thank you, that sounds like fun. Oh, Dr. Reid, maybe I can take you up on that offer of a tour?” Spencer nodded, a little shocked that she had remembered that conversation. “Well, I should head down to the 3rd floor. Don’t want to be late on my first day. I’ll see you all around though.”

The team watched Y/N walk out the glass doors to the elevator, and as soon as she was out of earshot, the girls erupted in a fit of giggles.

Morgan and Reid shared a look of confusion. “Okay, Babygirl,” Morgan groaned. “What was that about? Inviting her out with us? You just met her.”

That only served to make Garcia laugh harder. “Some profiler you are,” she teased, before turning her attention back to Emily and JJ. “Okay, don’t worry, I will not do any sort of unethical digging, just normal social media snooping. I promise.” With that, Garcia made her way quickly back to her Bat Cave, an extra pep in her step.

Morgan shot the remaining two girls a questioning look. “Why is she snooping on some random intern?” he pressed.

Emily chuckled in disbelief. “Seriously? You couldn’t see it?”

“See what?” Morgan asked, frustration evident in his voice.

JJ looked back up at Hotch’s office, a knowing smile on her face. “Because that random intern, who, remember, spent an entire interrogation flirting with Hotch, just left his office with smudged lipstick and a missing button on her shirt.”

Recognition flashed in Morgan’s eyes as he chuckled to himself, tapping his fingers on his desk. “Huh. Who knew Hotch still had it in him? My man, good for him.”

Reid looked at the rest of the profilers, his eyebrows scrunched together. “Wait, what happened?” he asked, still unable to put the pieces together. “Did I miss something?”

Morgan smirked and ruffled Reid’s hair. “We’ll explain it later, Pretty Boy. I promise.”

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner smut #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds smut #my best habit #my writing #emily prentiss #derek morgan #spencer reid #jennifer jareau #penelope garcia

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rpbetter · 3 years

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Reblog Etiquette (and ships)

At this point, we all know about “reblog karma” and “reblogging from source.” Though, I say that...and am questioning it. You should fucking know this by now, but in the event you don’t, let me define that shit for you.

Reblog Karma: the RPC’s oldest attempt at keeping people from clogging notifications and using others as meme resources. Essentially, don’t reblog a meme from a mutual unless you are sending them something from that meme first. Not all blogs practice it, or practice it the same way, please see their rules.

Reblogging from Source: another effort to stop being used as a meme/aesthetics resource. Many RPers would like you to reblog quotes, aesthetics, and memes from their source (original post location or the meme/aesthetics/quotes resource blog they got it from), even if you are sending them a meme. This is especially applicable when not interacting with the RPer.

Okay, that’s out of the way.

There is more to Reblog Etiquette than this!

And, when that etiquette is nonexistent, it almost always deals with a RPer’s ship. Mentioning ship partners and/or tagging ships on a reblog from another RPer, not removing that RPer’s mentions or tags, and even dropping a mention or outright RPing in the comments of another RPer’s reblog.

Don’t reblog from another mun and tag your ship or mention (@) your ship partner(s).

Don’t reblog a post with someone else’s mention still stuck to it.

Don’t reblog a post and leave the previous mun’s tags still in the tags.

Don’t go into the comments on someone’s post and mention your ship partner(s).

Don’t roleplay in the comments of someone else’s post.

None of this is alright, I have no idea what would make anyone think this is appropriate reblog etiquette, but it very much is not. It’s incredibly rude and lazy. Because I know that many people have similar ship aesthetics and so on, I’m not saying you shouldn’t reblog something for your own ships that a mutual has for theirs. (That’s a whole other in depth conversation we’ll have later.)

I’m saying that this is how you should be going about it:

Reblog from the source.

-What if there is no source because it’s deactivated, or there is another reason why I can’t access it?

Go into the post’s notes. At some point, damn near every post that could be used as an aesthetic, quote, or prompt for a ship (and RP in general) has been reblogged by at least one source blog. Look for RP meme, aesthetic, help, and other resource blog urls. If you cannot find one of those, look for urls that are general resource-style blogs. Personal blogs reblog aesthetics etc. as well, and there are many such resource blogs out there. -If you’re uncomfortable reblogging from a personal, that’s tough shit; I hate to break it to you, but most of your resources came from personal blogs. Deal with it, or don’t reblog anything you can’t find filtered through a RP specific resource.

-- “But this takes time/effort lol I just want to use it for my ship.” Again, tough shit. Sometimes, it does take energy not to be rude and do the right the thing. In all honesty, it’s fairly rare that doing the right thing is effortless, even when it’s something as simple as RP. Grow up.

--- You went through the notes, but there’s no appropriate blog to reblog from, now what?

Just because it’s a rare occurrence doesn’t mean it’s impossible. I know this one isn’t, I’ve had it happen too! My choice was to not reblog it at all, I just sent the link to my ship partner privately instead. If you don’t have that kind of friendship, you really wanted it on the dash, or another reason, you are now left with one option, and you’re not going to like it. Message the mutual you want to reblog from. Politely, explain that you’d like to reblog the post for your ship, and ask if they’re comfortable with it. No guilting, begging, or general, weird ass rudeness. If they decline, accept it just as politely, thank them for their response. If they accept, thank them, and especially if this isn’t a mutual you interact with much, be sure you’re showing them continued support on the dash by reading and liking/commenting on their headcanon posts and other appropriate material. (You should be anyway.)

Remove any mentions present (@’s)

Seriously, this is incredibly rude! Yet, with the typical lack of self-reflection and awareness of others in the RPC here, I see it multiple times a day on my dash. Not just with RP-blog-to-RP-blog interaction either, I also see RPers reblogging from personals and leaving their mentions attached. (I see it the other way around too, but I’m not here to school personal blogs.) For all the excessive emphasis RPers put on appearance, you’d think they’d want to get rid of something that looks this sloppy, but no. Not if it takes one extra second of effort!

-I know that xkit’s editable reblogs tends to break whenever tumblr gives us a new, exciting, hideous, insulting, limitation, I mean update, but come the fuck on. It is also one of the quickest things to regain functionality, so, maybe you should save the reblog to drafts, be following xkit’s blog for updates, and edit it once there has been a patch. If it’s worth it to you, it’s worth a short wait. When it’s working, you can easily remove that mention with editable reblogs.

--If you’re going to use being mobile as an excuse, or if you don’t want to wait on it/don’t use xkit, again, go to the source. And, also again, if that isn’t an option, you can find where it has been reblogged by an appropriate blog at some point in its history, sans mentions. Reblog from there.

Do not reblog someone else’s tags (#)

Some people have their xkit set up to reblog automatically with the previous poster’s tags. While that can be useful in some situations, I can think of, very literally, no situation this is appropriate for an RPer to use. If you have this set up on your personal/resource blog/wtfe and your RP blog is a sideblog (or you are using certain methods of having your browser open to two separate blog accounts where your xkit settings are transferring over), it’s up to you to delete the tags on these posts.

-It takes maybe one full second to click in the tag field and hit your delete button a few times to clear it. Do that. It’s never, ever, appropriate to keep someone’s ship, muse, verse, or other personalized tags attached to a reblog.

--If you are a personal blog reading this somehow, maybe you’re wanting to get into RP, please take note of this. This is one of the many reasons why most RPers will not interact with personals. We don’t like you reblogging an aesthetic post and keeping our tags on it.

In the case of both situations, not only is it rude and lazy, it’s fucking with someone else’s tags and privacy. Most RPers don’t want their content showing up in generally searchable tags, it’s one of the reasons that personalizing tags came about. Furthermore, if I’m on my dash and click a mutual’s custom tag for aesthetics, verses, ships, and so on, it’s now going to come up with instances of those tags on someone else’s blog as well.

Delete the fucking tags if they auto-populate. Don’t use someone else’s custom tags of your own volition either.

“Subverting” reblogs to mention in comments is a hard no, too

-So, you don’t want to reblog the post, but do want to @ your ship partner(s) in it? There’s no way to do that without being rude and strange. To be honest, this is even worse than just reblogging and tagging your ship.

I may not be the OP, but you came onto a post on my blog, one very likely tagged for my ships and/or having my ship partners mentioned on it, and commented on it mentioning your ship partner. It’s every bit as offensive and more so than someone reblogging from me and using it for a ship I’m not a part of. I don’t know what’s worse, when that other mun is a ship partner, casual mutual who doesn’t interact, or a writing partner but not ship partner. It’s all deeply fucked up. No one’s RP blog is here for your use like this!

--You’re also not subverting anything. I think the idea is to be polite or go unnoticed. People seem to lack a basic grasp on how tumblr works; you get notifications on reblogged posts you are not the OP of when someone comments on them just like you get a notif when someone likes it. The only way to genuinely be secretive about this would be to comment on it from the source or a resource blog. They will get the notification.

If you are commenting on, liking, or reblogging a post you see on the dash, the person having reblogged it, putting it there for you to encounter, will be notified of your interaction with it.

---What I’m saying, just in case it isn’t abundantly clear, for the third time now: you’re not being slick. Your mutuals will see that you weirdly @’ed someone in a comment on their reblog. They know.

----The appropriate behavior is to do just as advised in the above points: GO TO THE SOURCE. If no source exists, find an appropriate resource blog in the notes. You may then, and only then, give that mention in a comment.

Frankly, it’s still weird, and I would recommend you just reblog it from the source to interact with it. There is always the option of sending it to the intended party by way of tumblr’s messenger or linking the post in an off tumblr messenger like discord.

I say this because it hasn’t escaped my attention that the only time I have this issue on my own RP blog is when the imagery or text is fucking filthy. As in, Other Mun didn’t want something that sexual, kinky, violent, and so on to be posted to their own blog. You need to grow up if that’s your deal. Like writing smut or violence, if you need to do it in private only, you’re obviously not adult enough to handle the topic.

Keep your roleplay where it belongs; in your inbox and threads

-It’s not appropriate to start up RP in the comments of another RPer’s reblogged ship aesthetic. (Or anything else, this just happens to be the most common.) It’s incredibly odd and offensive to look in your notifications and see that a mutual and their ship partner are flirting, or outright fucking, in the comments of a post you reblogged for your ship.

It’s just as awkward feeling and offensive when someone reblogs the post and begins full-blown RP on it. It’s one thing when it’s a post originating from an RP resource blog, or when it’s kept to something like a mention and a short line that your writing partner can start their original post in inspiration of. But...

--You know how I said above that auto-copying tags thing is one of the reasons why RPers are iffy about personal blogs? Well, this is one of the reasons why personal blogs think RPers are exceedingly weird members of fandom that need to be excluded and devalued. It’s odd, especially if you’ve never encountered RP, to see someone reblogging your quote, moodboard, or other original post and RPing on it.

Listen, we all need to RP some crack and commentary sometimes, but it’s best left in the tags or put into a new post.

---Instead of RPing (not sorry, especially if it is smut) on that post, link the image to show in a new post, and go from there.

Please remember to be polite about artists, including photographers and gifers, when you do this! Tumblr automatically gives the source of imagery when you use a link to display the picture, that’s why I recommended doing that instead of saving, then re-uploading the image as though it is your own. If you’re going to do that, even if it’s just silliness going on, give mention of the artist, photographer’s blog/site, or gifer’s blog in the tag or below the image.

Tumblr is deeply unfriendly to artists of all sorts, don’t be fuel that. When you upload artwork for the sake of RP, again, even if it’s just crack, that’s literally violating what artists ask people not to do; you’re reposting their art without permission and credit.

#rp better #reblog etiquette #rp advice #rp help #psa #rp psa #mun behavior #ships #tumblr rpc

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sinnhelmingr · 3 years

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SO YOU WANT TO PROMOTE YOUR ROLEPLAY GROUP.

and that’s great! i’m sure you have a fantastic idea to develop your story, and a genuine love for what you’ve created. there’s nothing more harrowing and rewarding than putting your skeletons out there and watching interested players snap them up! i don’t think there’s anyone but the most curmudgeonly indie who will begrudge others for wanting to share their creativity with the community.

no doubt you’ve poured at least a day or two into the skeletons, the theme, the graphics, and perhaps most importantly, the promo. after all, how will your group get off the ground without reaching out to others? promoting is a time-honored aspect of roleplaying on this site, one that most of us have taken part in from time to time. from the simplest single image to the most ornate multi-panel gif templates, promos are a great way to get your blog out there and invite others to engage with your content.

if. they are used reasonably. promos give you the power to reach out to entire communities that could join your group, and with that power comes great responsibility. this includes recognizing that while you are ready to put in the work to put your group on the map, there are plenty of indies who use the same tags you do. some indie muns might be willing to apply, some might simply scroll past your content, and some will block groups on sight, and that’s the variety you can expect from the independent blogs you share tags with. one thing that all kinds of muns can usually agree on, however, is that scrolling past entire walls of content over and over again is annoying.

really, really annoying. especially in the event that your promo overtakes the tag others are trying to navigate. double that annoyance if trying to take the high road and block/filter out your promo account breaks the tag entirely. with some groups, it becomes obvious that moderators think that taking over a tag is a sure way to generate interest, which might be true... but ask yourself if people complaining about your content is the kind of interest you want.

it seems that recently, a number of rpgs have decided that posting a single or rotating stable of promo graphics upwards of ten to fifteen times a day is necessary to drum up their numbers, and in particularly slow but active tags, the spam can really add up fast. and that is what it comes down to : spam, flooding a tag with your own content so nothing else can rise to the surface. this is the kind of behavior that gets commenters banned on more functional sites, but as we well know, tumblr is not that. thus it falls more to the moderators themselves to, well, moderate themselves.

consider the following before invading a tag:

try to maneuver one of your favored tags from another account. see how long it takes you to find an indie blog, or block your promo account and see if it breaks the tag. this should give you a taste of what indie muns go through trying to maneuver around your flood of content. consider that while you want to build a community of writing partners, so do people outside of your group, and how you might make that harder for them through your promotion tactics.

only post in an rp tag from your promo account. i often see blogs post unrelated content into tags commonly used to promote for new followers, things like mod activity updates from an hq blog or even random asks about fcs. ask yourself what bearing this really has on your promotion, especially in a tag you already use heavily. people have already seen your many graphics -- is an update about you being online or activity checks that could be handled in-house really going to reel in that one person who might not otherwise apply? i suppose it’s possible, but it’s just as likely you’re contributing to a wider audience having to block another account just to make it through to people who will interact with them.

consider changing tags. have you noticed that people aren’t applying from a certain fandom or setting? have you posted in that certain rp tag time and time again only for that latest batch of applications to come up with no results from it? maybe that should be a sign to ease off of the tag for a bit. if you post too frequently, rest assured that users are seeing you, and it’s likely people there aren’t taken by your group. that might be hard to hear, but not everyone has the time or inclination to pour into a group, and that’s okay. shift focus to those fandoms and settings where you are getting some good returns, and if you still need that other tag, try again in the future. chase what works and stop trying to make your group happen where there’s a lack of curiosity.

try looking into alternative tags. imagine how much easier it would be for players to find your account if there was a dedicated group tag depending on the fandom or genre they write for. your page could be more easily accessed by popularity without having to compete with indie account promos, which often rack up a fair amount of likes and reblogs, for space at the top of the page. as there are already some pretty dedicated ‘indie [fandom]’ and ‘indie [genre]’ tags in play, there’s nothing saying that groups can’t employ the same advertising maneuvers.

and above all else, scale back the number of posts you queue in a short amount of time. twenty posts in a day, which i have seen in extreme cases, is inexcusable. even ten in a day has the potential to really upend maneuverability in particularly slow but active fandoms. i want to repeat that your page is being seen, i promise, and if you’re ruining the tag for others by putting out more than one post an hour, you’re being seen for all the wrong reasons. if people have to actively come forward to you asking you to please stop posting so often, consider that you have a problem with oversaturating your group.

of course, no one group of mods is under any obligation to listen to this. the few groups that i have seen others reach out seem to believe that if they don’t post at least three times an hour four times a day some other group will swoop in and steal potential players out from under them. a few that certain mutuals have approached even claim that many promos a day is ‘normal.’ and i would like to say, from the bottom of my heart, it shouldn’t be and you’re part of the reason other mods think that. i want to believe after almost a decade on this site that indies and groups can coexist as they always have, but i know others and i myself are recently at the mercy of scrolling past endless amounts of group promotions to find even one new blog, especially in larger fandoms. some groups have even gone so far as posting in indie rp tags, which defeats the purpose of the tag entirely. with a little courtesy and less obsessive advertising, we can find a middle ground that allows both groups and indies to use the tools available to us to entice new interactions and players alike.

#rp #rpg #group roleplay #i'm gonna be honest this is a personal bugbear AND one i have seen several mutuals post about so i had to finally vent about it.#i literally went into one tag and saw 20 promos in a single 24 hour period and that is ridiculous.#especially recognizing that most indie accounts will only have one promotion in a tag at any given time.#and that the site is so broken that sometimes just trying to block a page breaks the tag in question entirely.#long post //

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quicksilversquared · 5 years

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Scandal Scandal

Adrien is willing to put up with a lot if it means not making unnecessary waves. But everyone has their breaking point, and after Lila pushes a bit too far....

Well, she'll find that even the most tolerate cats have claws.

links in the reblog

Two months after the start of their agreement, Adrien was getting really, really tired of Lila.

At first, it hadn't been awful. Sure, she was clingy and annoying and manipulative and attention-seeking, but Adrien could tolerate her presence at his photoshoots. His photographer seemed to pick up on the fact that Adrien didn't like Lila hanging over him, and so he always made sure to pose them in positions that weren't touching, not giving Lila any ground when she tried to cajole him into putting them in closer positions. Adrien was used to putting up with unwanted attention, too, so that was hardly new.

But Lila wasn't so easily deterred. She would cling before and after photoshoots, pushing at Adrien's boundaries almost all the time. The constant suggestions that they should work on their homework together afterwards at his house- always approved by his father, if he happened to drop in on the photoshoot and overhear Lila's suggestion- were irritating, and Lila was always far more of a hindrance than anything else during their study sessions. On top of that, he had finally had to refuse to let her in his room, because she didn't seem to understand the concept of no snooping.

(Thank goodness for the Gorilla being firmly on Adrien's side, or else Lila probably still would have tried to drag Adrien up to his room to do their homework.)

Adrien always ended up having to stay up late those days to actually finish his homework and do his studying. As one of the city's superheroes, he shouldn't be doing that. He needed his sleep, and he needed to be able to get his homework done in a reasonable amount of time in case of an akuma attack.

But they were at an impasse. If Adrien didn't keep publically acting as though Lila were his friend, then she would start targeting Marinette at school again, and he couldn't let that happen. Adrien was worried that if he pushed back too hard when Lila pushed at his boundaries, she would consider their "agreement"- that she wouldn't try to get Marinette in trouble and that he would (at least publically) pretend to be her friend- null and void and go after Marinette again.

It was a frustrating place to be in, and Adrien's patience was fast wearing thin. His tolerance for Lila- for acting like they were friends of any sort, for ignoring it when she snagged him close for the sole purpose of pressing a lip gloss-sticky kiss to his cheek for a picture to post online, for even being near her- had gotten worn down to the point where Adrien was starting to wonder about looking into other solutions to the Lila problem.

And then Lila went too far.

There had been rumors about them before, of course. Lila's sudden constant presence at Adrien's photoshoots hadn't gone at all unnoticed, and the fact that they sometimes left photoshoots together- when Lila and Mr. Agreste forced study sessions on him- had only added to the rumor mill. The rumors had never been addressed, though.

Until now. Lila had apparently been approached, and she had decided to confirm to a reporter that she and Adrien were a couple. The news had zinged across the city, and Adrien had found out on social media that he was apparently one-half of a couple that he had never agreed to being part of.

And he. Was. Fuming. His patience was gone, snapped, the last strands so far gone that he couldn't even see them anymore.

"If she thinks that I'm going to keep playing along, she's wrong," Adrien told Plagg, pacing back and forth in his room. "She probably thinks that I'll just lie down and agree to play along, but this is too much. It's too far. I'm not- the very idea of being in a relationship with her makes me sick, after what she tried to do to Marinette."

"Some of your fans want you to have a photoshoot where you kiss," Plagg said unhelpfully, scrolling through Adrien's phone. "Or an announcement photo, because they think it would be cute."

Adrien tried not to gag at the thought and snarled instead. "Not happening. Not. Happening." He sighed. "At least Marinette knows why I've been letting Lila come to my photoshoots. Otherwise, I bet she would be feeling pretty betrayed and I don't- I don't want her to feel like that."

Plagg zipped around his head. "Are you going to just ignore the news, then? If your actual girlfriend knows the truth, it doesn't matter what the rest of Paris believes?"

"No way. If I don't stop Lila now, she's going to expect that I play the role of a boyfriend all the time, even if it's not true." Adrien scowled into the air, then the second part of Plagg's words sunk in. "And Marinette is my friend, Plagg, not my girlfriend."

Plagg only sniggered. "So you always say."

Adrien rolled his eyes at his kwami. This was not the time, really. He had too many other things to worry about-or, well, only one thing, really, and that was Lila's lie.

If Adrien didn't want to be forced into playing along, he would have to act. He hadn't wanted to before- confrontation normally wasn't his thing- but now...

Determined, Adrien headed for the door, a plan already starting to take shape in his mind. He was at least a bit famous, and the news about him dating was fresh and apparently exciting. That meant that if he could get outside, he would no doubt be approached by someone- a fan or a reporter, it probably wouldn't matter in the end. They would no doubt ask him for a statement and he could refute the news then, and it probably wouldn't be long before that news spread and got some attention.

Hopefully.

Partway across the atrium, Adrien paused when he heard his name come from his father's office. Curious, Adrien crept closer, crouching down behind a column and listening.

"-not what I anticipated her doing," his father was saying. "But I can't say I entirely disapprove. We'll have to give Adrien instructions to go along with it, anything else will just end up with a lot of backlash and bad press. A couple months of dating minimum, I'd say, depending on how reliable Miss Rossi is."

Adrien's stomach dropped. No, no, no, this wasn't what he wanted happening! He- he couldn't stomach fake-dating Lila, he really couldn't. Surely his father had picked up on how uncomfortable she made Adrien. Or if his father hadn't, Nathalie-

"Shall I tell him now?" Nathalie asked, cutting that thought off mid-sentence. Adrien could hear her take a step towards the office doors. "I can run up before the meeting."

"No, it can wait," Mr. Agreste decided after a heart-stopping pause. "We've neglected preparation for this meeting, so we need every minute. Adrien isn't going anywhere, and if he's doing homework as he's meant to, he won't find out about what Miss Rossi said until later anyway."

"Understood, sir."

Adrien had heard enough. As soon as the conversation had turned away from him and towards their upcoming meeting, Adrien made a break for it as silently as he could. Across the atrium, out the door, catch it before it could slam, close it carefully and then run down the steps and out the gate. Adrien glanced back for a second, hoping that he hadn't been seen and wasn't being followed, and then dashed for the park near the school.

If he was seen before he could talk to anyone, it would all be over. Adrien would be forced into dating Lila and wouldn't be able to do anything about it. If he tried, his father would know that Adrien had directly disobeyed orders and would be absolutely furious.

Thankfully, Adrien didn't have long to wait. Within minutes of him arriving in the park, Madam Chamack materialized practically out of thin air and approached him with an eager smile. Behind her, her cameraman and sound person were trotting along, trying to keep up. She made a beeline towards Adrien, no doubt very interested in getting the scoop on his formerly-secret relationship before anyone else did.

She was going to get a scoop, all right. Adrien was still too furious at Lila's manipulation and his father's plans to dictate his life even more to have any sense of filter anymore, and he was going to absolutely rip apart all of her lies and firmly slam the door on any chance of him being forced into a relationship with Lila.

"Adrien! We just heard this morning that you and Lila Rossi are dating!" Madam Chamack started, beaming at him in a way that was probably meant to look friendly but came off as more feverishly over-eager. "Congratulations! We would love to hear more about how you met, how you got together... I was wondering if you had a minute to spare to chat a bit?"

"Certainly," Adrien said politely, flashing his own smile. It was a little dangerous, a little too full of teeth. "And actually, Madam Chamack, that news was a surprise to me, too. I never asked Lila out, and even if she asked me, I would never agree. Lila is a selfish, intolerable, manipulative serial liar, and I only tolerated her to protect my friends."

This time, Adrien wasn't going to hold back. Lila had pushed him to a breaking point that he hadn't even known he had, and the kid gloves were coming off, and coming off hard.

Lila had wanted to be famous, and over the past couple months, she had gotten her wish. Now she was going to learn the hard way that sometimes, there were downsides to that fame.

Ten minutes later and no small amount of questions and explanations later, Madam Chamack had thanked Adrien and went on her way with her cameraman. To the best of Adrien's knowledge, the interview had been live, and Lila would no doubt be feeling the effects of her empire crumbling around her ears shortly. Adrien had torn her apart to the point that, unless Mrs. Rossi lived under a rock, there was no way that she wouldn't hear about Lila's lies shortly.

Everything had come out. All of Lila's lies that she had told about her life, all of the disabilities she had claimed to have, the incident where she stole his father's book from him and then threw it in the trash (which he had learned about several weeks earlier after finally asking Marinette how she had learned about Lila's lies), all of her attempts to manipulate students and teachers alike to get what she wanted, the months of "traveling" that she had supposedly done during the school year, the charities that she had supposedly founded, her blatant disregard for his personal boundaries and insistence on hanging off of him and forcing unwanted kisses on him, the attempt to get Marinette expelled and how that led to Adrien cooperating with her in order to get his friend's name cleared.

Madam Chamack had looked torn between absolutely shocked and absolutely delighted to get all of the information. It was a real scoop, and it was bound to get her a lot of viewers.

Which was exactly what Adrien had wanted. More people knowing the truth meant that there was less chance of Lila getting away with anything like she had been pulling before.

In one final fit of lingering anger, Adrien had called out the adults who had fallen for Lila's lies- the teachers and principal, mostly, but part of it was aimed at his own father. All of them were supposed to be protecting him and Marinette (and their other classmates, too), and they hadn't. They had sat by and not followed procedure for expulsion (which Adrien had looked up after that incident, in case Lila decided to try again) and not checked out Lila's claims at all or stopped Lila from hanging all over him or- or anything.

Adrien was pretty sure that he would regret at least part of what he said later, but he was just so angry about- well, everything about the whole situation- and he had just remembered Marinette's frustration and all of the comments Plagg had made about Lila, and everything had come out in a rush.

Still stewing, Adrien glanced around the park. There was no Gorilla in sight yet, which meant that his father and Nathalie were probably too busy with their meeting to notice Adrien's absence or what was bound to be a sudden and even larger spike of activity in his hashtag. That was likely to not last for long, though, which meant that Adrien should probably consider leaving the park.

Where he should go, though, Adrien wasn't sure. The school was closed for the weekend, and he didn't really want to deal with Chloe's clinginess, either, and the library was a little too far for him to be able to go without getting caught.

Before he had too much time to think about it, Adrien spotted Marinette across the park, hurrying towards him. He headed towards her, eager for some decent company, and then let out a surprised yelp when Marinette didn't even slow down, positively barreling into him to wrap him up in a hug.

"I saw the broadcast!" Marinette told him at once, beaming up at him. "And so did everyone else in our class, I think- my phone is positively blowing up with notifications, and- Adrien, you're shaking!"

Was he? Adrien refocused on himself, and- yep, Marinette was right. Now that the adrenaline high was wearing off, the full impact of what he had just done was setting in. There were going to be so many people hurt and confused and angry and his father was going to be furious, Adrien knew it already, and-

"Okay, let's move inside," Marinette decided, linking her arm through his and gently tugging Adrien towards the bakery. "Then there won't be anyone approaching you, and I'll make a cup of tea and Maman can bring up some croissants or a baguette or cookies."

Adrien let himself be led, more than willing to follow Marinette. They headed across the park, into the warmth of the bakery, and up to the Dupain-Cheng living room, Marinette leading the way.

Her arm through his didn't feel constricting or possessive like it did when Lila or Chloe did it, Adrien noted absently as Marinette led him to the couch and released him, letting Adrien seat himself while she went to put the teapot on. She didn't hold on as tight or drag him around or towards her. If Adrien had stopped or decided that he wanted to let go, he would have been able to.

There were a lot of things that he liked a lot better when Marinette did them, really. Her hugs were the warmest he had gotten in ages, her arms wrapped around his chest to give the most full-bodied hug she would instead of hanging off of his neck like- well, like both Chloe and Lila and the occasional fangirl who decided to ignore his personal space, and the occasional cheek kiss that he got from Marinette felt like it was for him, not self-serving and for show like the cheek kisses Lila forced on him always were.

Marinette was more genuine, that was for sure. When she did things for him, it was because she truly wanted to help, not because she wanted to be seen with him and get famous.

"Oh, I forgot to switch off the TV before I headed out," Marinette commented as she came back over to rejoin Adrien on the sofa. She tucked her phone into her pocket as she settled down on the couch next to Adrien, and Adrien caught the flash of her text messages inbox on her screen. It looked like Marinette had a lot of unread messages. "I just saw the news about Lila online, and then spotted you on the TV, and headed straight out."

"It's okay," Adrien managed, catching Marinette's wrist before she could grab the remote to turn the TV off. "I kind of want to see what's going on. I might as well be prepared, at least, and see what people are saying."

Marinette nodded, sitting back as Adrien released her wrist. "I guess it's good to know what's going on. Not that we can really change much at this point, I guess."

"Yeah, I might as well have started an avalanche," Adrien admitted, keeping one eye on the TV. A muted commercial was playing right now, but he was sure that the news would return soon enough. "But I just got so ticked off at Lila for trying to pressure me into a relationship by announcing that we were dating, and then I overheard my father talking to Nathalie and he, well..."

Marinette looked absolutely horrified, clearly anticipating his next words. "Was he going to go along with Lila's lie? Oh, Adrien-!"

"Yeah," Adrien confirmed, unable to help but feel validated at Marinette's response. "And with both of those together..."

"You'd want to slam the door on that possibility as fast and as hard as possible," Marinette finished, as though she was reading his mind. She reached over, squeezing Adrien's hand. "Don't doubt yourself, Adrien. Whatever comes next, Lila deserves all the bad press and publicity that comes her way. She's the one who put herself in that position, what with all of her lies and manipulation."

Adrien flashed a grateful look at Marinette, unable to be anything but grateful that she had pulled him inside. If he had been by himself right now, his guilt and second-guessing himself would be eating him up from the inside.

As it was... well, Adrien was anxious about what the fallout was going to be, that was for sure. Lila probably wasn't going to be the only one to get in trouble, and Adrien hadn't even checked his phone since getting inside, too nervous about finding a message from his father, furious at him for doing an interview that definitely wasn't approved.

At least everything would probably be worth it in the end. He wouldn't have to deal with Lila anymore, Marinette wouldn't have to deal with Lila anymore, and he wouldn't have to worry about being forced into a relationship with one of the most manipulative, deceitful, and downright unpleasant people Adrien had ever had the displeasure of meeting.

Adrien spent the rest of the afternoon at Marinette's house, curled up in a cozy blanket with his phone muted as they switched between ignoring the world while playing video games and watching the unfolding news coverage- and there was a lot.

Madam Chamack had taken it upon herself to make a beeline straight over to the Italian Embassy, where she had spent the better part of an hour camped out on the steps before being allowed inside and confronting Lila's very harried mother, who clearly had heard the news and was not coping well with it. Adrien felt a little sorry for her- Mrs. Rossi's coworkers were giving her rather dubious looks from their desks in the background- but seriously, how had she not managed to pick up on the fact that her daughter was such a liar?

Across town, Alec Cataldi had managed to hunt down Mr. Damocles and had followed him for a bit, trying to get his questions answered until the principal finally was able to duck away into his apartment building. There had been a lot of "no comments" or "that's classified information" or "we'll be looking into everything on Monday" in response to Alec's comments. That had only resulted in a fair bit of speculation on Alec's part as he re-stationed himself and his camera crew right outside of the Agreste mansion, clearly hoping for a statement about how Lila had started modeling for Gabriel and if she would be continuing but not quite daring enough to try the buzzer.

There was absolutely no sign of Lila at all, which was odd considering that (at least according to social media), she had been out on the streets, soaking up the attention that came with being Adrien Agreste's "girlfriend" only minutes before Adrien's interview aired.

Something told him that she wasn't going to be bothering him for a while. Even if her mom didn't immediately ship her out of the country, the legal trouble that Lila was going to be getting into was more than enough to keep Lila occupied for the near future.

Maybe Adrien would still have to deal with his father's displeasure about the press fallout from his impromptu interview, but, well, that was a problem for Future Adrien. For now, well, Adrien was more than content enough to spend as much time as he could with Marinette and her family.

He was free from Lila at last and honestly, Adrien couldn't be any more relieved.

#Miraculous Ladybug #My writing #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng

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dragonstim-moved · 4 years

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so heres how we make stimboards

So some friends asked about it, and i thought. eh. why not?

we’ve seen some other stimboard tutorials out there online, but the way we do it is quite different, so that’s why i thought i’d make one.

Just a disclaimer: theres no single “right’ way to make stimboards. we just do it this way because it’s a lot faster from our experience.

tutorial under the cut!

Okay so what do you need:

- a computer with a browser that can open quite a few internet tabs at once - a decent internet connection (unless you are okay with stimboards taking a long time)

that’s it! you don’t need a computer that can download images, because we won’t be downloading anything at all. most stimboard tutorials require you to download the gifs, but this way is easier.

The actual process:

most of you will be familiar with tumblrs different post types, the one we’re going to use is the image type. which is what allows us to put 9 images in a good good grid like you see in stimboards!

so when you start making an image post, you’ll see an option to upload an image, or add an image from the web.

most tutorials use the former, and we used to do that too. but since it requires downloading all the gifs on your computer just to upload them, we’re going to choose the latter option instead.

which just requires you to copy the image url, and paste it in here.

Now onto finding the right gifs:

we had a tough time figuring this one out, and we still don’t know the best process of doing it. but here’s how we do it at the moment.

go to your favorite stim blogs homepage, make sure they tag their gifs, then add, after that url “/tagged/[color you want here]”. So if i wanted to make an all green stimboard, i’d type in /tagged/green.

sometimes you want specific kinds of gifs instead of different colors. there are blogs that tag using this system as well, like “tagged/slime” or “tagged/wax_melts”.

(Our favorite blogs for this process are stim-dot-calm, gottastim, and soft-stims. but really it’s up to your own preference.)

and now the process is just... going through the tagged posts, looking for ones that look appealing or well, stimmy.

Once you find a gif you want to save, open the original post in a new tab. save the tab until the very end unless you decide you no longer want to use the gif. this is so that you can correctly credit your gifs at the end.

the reason you want a decent internet connection is because you will be looking at. a lot. of gifs. before finding the right ones. at least thats how it is in our case. gifs take a lot of data to load too. it’s probably the thing that’s going to be dealbreaker.

Making the actual board:

after collecting (or even halfway through depending on how you work) all the gifs, you can copy and paste the image urls into the tumblr post, and rearrange them.

for beginners i’d say just go with what looks the best. we subconsciously use a lot of theory about combining textures and colors and speed of the gifs. but i can’t really explain that, it’s something you gain with practice. it’s similar to making moodboards, except more complicated because the gifs actually move.

but jay? you ask. sometimes you have a still image you made yourself in the middle of that board, how do i add that?

we just use an image hosting service (discord in our case, which isnt made for image hosting but it’s what’s the most available for us) and then copy the url from there.

Editing gifs:

sometimes gifs aren’t square either, or you just want a slight color tweak. that’s when we use ezgif. it’s a gif editing site that allows you to edit gifs in a lot of ways. we mostly make use of the filters and cropping features. nothing fancy, it’s easy to figure out on your own i’d say.

Crediting:

the most tedious part! add a little credit section at the bottom. our format is:

x x x | x x x | x x x

but again thats up to personal preference, go through all your tabs, copy the link to the post containing the gif you used. paste it onto the x that corresponds with said gif, and there you go. you just credited a gif. now do this for.. every single tab you have open. make sure not to skip a gif or confuse the tabs.

sometimes the blogs we use will have reblogged a post from someone we can’t interact with because of their dni. we just don’t use their gifs because, that’s, what a dni is for? sometimes the reblogs will link to a post of a blog that has moved or deleted. then we just link to the reblog itself. same goes for stimboards that reposted the gifs.

And that’s pretty much all there is to it? i don’t know if i explained this well, like, at all. sheesh i have been talking for a long time now. it’s probably better if i stop here since my sister wants to watch a movie with us.

feel free to ask things if you have more questions? i’ll try my best to explain.

thank you for reading!! and happy stimming!

#stimboard tutorial #stimboard #stim #idk i just want ppl to see this #jay.txt

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rotationalsymmetry · 4 years

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Commenting on without reblogging. (Thing is about: communicating about what you’re upset about with your partner or whomever and not making them guess.) (I don’t remember if the original post was partner specific or like...roommates. I’m thinking about partners, but this can apply to roommate conflicts as well, and anyone else you spend enough time with that you’re around each other when you’re not at your best. I’m mostly assuming one on one situations — this can be generalized to larger groups, but with 3 or more people there’s additional dynamics in play and I’m not sure how to comment on that here:)

Yes, and also I think this tends to be harder than a lot of people realize. As in: if just being told you should do that is enough, great. If not...

For those of us who would basically rather die than talk to our parents about our feelings as teens and didn’t have anyone else we could talk to about our feelings to either, it can be really hard to transition into adult relationships of equals and trust that the other person actually cares about our feelings.

For people who have especially extreme or unusual emotional reactions due to mental illness, ADHD, etc, identifying our feelings let alone talking about them can be extra hard.

For many people, figuring out how to say “I’m upset as a result of you doing x” without implying “I think it’s bad that you did x” can be challenging. Especially since a lot of people are primed to automatically hear the first as the second.

This can be even harder if you’re not sure whether you do think that it’s bad that the other person did x or not.

I don’t know what to say about people coming from abusive families, but I’m sure that adds extra layers of difficulty one way or another. Also previous abusive romantic relationships.

Basically we usually learn how to do this stuff by it being modeled to us, and a lot of us didn’t get that modeling. (Or for various reasons, got it modeled but didn’t pick it up. Or our problems and our role models’ problems are different enough that it’s not all that useful.)

Some people find it difficult to form words or say certain kinds of things under stress. This can look like deliberately choosing to stay silent when it’s actually not a choice.

The fight-or-flight stress response makes it harder to use the parts of your brain that control impulses and make rational, thought out decisions. So, knowing what to do when you’re calm and being able to do it when you’re aroused are very different things. Even more so if you’re getting into shut down/dissociation territory. (This is why “take some time apart to calm down” is such common relationship advice.)

Sometimes not only is it hard for B to read A’s feelings, but B might get it wrong. Some people look calm when they’re angry, sound angry when they’re scared, cry when they’re not sad, etc.

Oh, and also some people don’t have close relationships (or healthy close relationships) until relatively late in life, and are making their newbie relationship mistakes much later than most people.

So, what can you do?

Talk about conflicts when you’re not actively in conflict.

Make a plan for how you’re going to deal with intense feelings and/or sustained bad moods ahead of time; know your coping strategies. Let your partner know ahead of time what sorts of things tend to make you feel better or worse.

Look up communication advice (“I feel” statements etc) and either generate some rules of the road together as a couple (/household/polycule/whatever) or make some personal guidelines for yourself. (If you don’t always follow them it happens — this isn’t about whoever messes up first loses the argument, it’s about if you mess up you try to do better next time.)

If you want to keep the relationship, make sure you have a lot more positive interactions than negative ones. Even if there’s big disagreements that need to be talked through, it’s OK to take breaks and have time where you focus on enjoying each other’s company. If you’re in a frame of mind where you can do that.

Likewise, remember to say positive things about your partner etc even when you’re in conflict. “I care about you”, “I want to work through this together”, “thanks for hearing me out”, etc. You do not lose the fight by saying nice things. (Or if you do...maybe your problem isn’t a communication one.)

If either person wants to take a break from a difficult conversation, you take a break.

Think about who else you can talk to about this, or how else you can process the situation. It’s not necessarily a good idea to talk about all your relationship fights with a close family member (or another partner if you’re polyamorous) but often it’s a good idea to talk to someone. So...therapist? Bartender? Hotline volunteer? Random social media “let’s be nice to each other” group? Your dog? Maybe you’d just as soon write in your journal or go for a long walk? Sometimes if you process your feelings first, you end up having a much more constructive talk later on.

Be in process. Learning how to have healthy relationships involves a lot of highly complex and subtle skills. It’s work. It takes time. As with learning to play a musical instrument, you have to do it badly before you can do it well.

What if communication doesn’t help?

Maybe the way you tried it didn’t work or the timing was bad. Give it some time and try again later. (If it’s a big dealbreaker thing or potentially a big dealbreaker thing, get some distance if possible — communication isn’t a substitute for boundaries, and neither is patience or love or forgiveness.)

If there’s a consistent pattern of talking it out not working, or the other person seems to be acting deliberately cruel, this is probably not a good relationship (/living situation) for you. Good communication can’t make another person respect you, it only smooths things over between people who basically like and respect each other.

Couple’s counseling/family counseling is an option in some cases. I recommend only doing this if you basically trust that the other person cares about and respects you and it’s more about getting back to a previously happy relationship than trying to fix a relationship that was broken from the start. In a hostile roommate situation if you can’t move out yet, or if you’re in something that you know is a bad relationship but can’t break up yet, what you want is more boundaries, not better communication. Individual therapy might help with that, but family or couple’s therapy is generally more focused on gaining more closeness and mutual understanding, and less about setting boundaries and getting distance.

Some resources (books unless stated otherwise, authors left out because I’m feeling too lazy to look them all up but I can clarify on request):

Non-violent Communication (the book, but there’s also workshops etc): not everyone’s cup of tea, other people swear by it. It’s set up skills first/explanations second, so I recommend reading the second half first but you do you. If it’s not your thing, that’s OK.

Difficult Conversations

Feeling Good Together: this is a weird ass book, and does not differentiate between healthy relationships and abusive ones, but I’m still recommending it because the “five secrets of effective communication” is actually the communication advice that works best for me in the moment. (The “five secrets” can also be found if you poke around the Feeling Good podcast, which is free.)

Oh, yeah the Feeling Good book and the Feeling Good podcast in general, for people with depression, anxiety, etc. (note: the author/host ...has some very strong opinions, be willing to filter. There’s a ton of practical advice though, so I’m still recommending it.)

The Dance of Anger: short on practical tips, but pretty neat on theory.

Anything about CBT or DBT, or really anything else on emotional management written by therapy people.

I’m especially fond of Taming Your Gremlin on the “learn better coping strategies” front: it’s short, it’s got humor, it’s friendly to people with short attention spans, it does kinda do the “co-opting mindfulness concepts for personal gain” thing but that’s pretty hard to avoid these days, sigh.

Bouncing Back (about resilience and healing from trauma, science based but written for people who aren’t science people)

Burnout (about stress, ditto on the science thing, aimed at women, 10/10 recommend)

The Relaxation and Stress Reduction Workbook (why so much about stress? Because dealing with “stress” is also dealing with fear and anger and hurt and resentment and frustration, that’s why. And because we all know that “stress is bad” and we’re supposed to do something about it, but most people think that means just avoiding stressful situations and WRONG.) (If you just read one, pick Burnout. But, the Workbook has a chapter on anger management so I’m including it for that if nothing else.)

How To ADHD YouTube videos, for people with ADHD and those who love them.

#commenting on without reblogging #relationship advice #communication skills #emotional management #coping strategies #mental illness #adhd #resources #long post

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starfleetdoesntfirefirst · 4 years

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8tracks Backup

Edited 1/7/2020 to reflect that the new workbook can open your 8tracks folder and fix errored playlists you’ve already run with just a few clicks, which I hadn’t realized until I had time to use it myself!

The following is the new, up-to-date as of 1/6/2020 version of this reblog chain with extraneous and out-of-date information removed and a link to and information on the new workbook.

After 8tracks announced, with only a few days’ notice, that it was shutting down on 12/31/2019, an effort was made to preserve as many playlists as possible. The original 8tracks backup macro by VidderAdmin was downloaded over a hundred times across multiple continents, and the information from thousands of playlists was saved. Go fandom!

However, it turns out that 8tracks is staying up a bit longer—though we have no way of knowing how long—which leaves more time to save playlist information. To this end, VidderAdmin and the team that formed to work on this created a new macro workbook that fixes some issues and improves functionality.

The Updated Macro Workbook

- FIXED: playlists with Unicode producing 0kb files (and helps rerun files that failed)

- FIXED: missing images (and helps rerun files that failed)

- IMPROVED FUNCTIONALITY: helps rerun failures, allows user to choose folders to download to and to download to subfolders by fandom tag specified by user, accounts for extraneous text at the end of URLs without the user needing to ctrl+f and delete it, checks folders to ensure every text file has a matching image and reruns those without

You will need to have macros enabled to run the spreadsheet; here’s how to enable macros. Side note: genuinely friendly PSA that macros are default-disabled in Excel for a reason. Macro viruses can send and delete files and be computer-destroying levels of dangerous; always be careful what you choose to download and run!

Download: bit.ly/8tracksbackup

[Rest of ID in alt text] “8tracksbackup is a macro-enabled workbook that helps to quickly download playlist metadata (including the track list) and cover artwork based on URLs that you provide. We have also included some tools to help ensure those downloads worked correctly.

We're a team of volunteers hoping to preserve fandom history before it's lost, but we are not affiliated with 8tracks, and we are not affiliated with Internet Archive.

While we've done our best to test out the macros in this workbook and address any bugs or glitches, unfortunately we can't guarantee how it will perform, and you are using this at your own risk.

If you're familiar with VBA, you can take a look at the code yourself, but again please know that we can't guarantee how it will perform if you modify the code, or if you are sent a copy of this workbook that didn't come from us.

We've included some instructions within these tabs, but if you have further questions, please contact us at 8tracksbackup AT gmail DOT com and we'll do what we can to help.

If you are interested in submitting your 8tracks metadata and covers to the Internet Archive to be included in an 8tracks Fandom History Collection, please contact us at the email above by 12/31/2020.

If you'd like us to notify you when we've updated the workbook, or if you do not want your playlists included in our collection, you can fill out this Google Form: forms.gle/9Weh4RpKYnXFTrMQ6

Thank you for helping to save at-risk fanworks!”

So, do you need to re-run URLs you’ve already saved?

One of the main (and hardest to spot) issues in the original pre-New-Years macro was that JSON files (where the tracklists are) were coming out blank for playlists whose information included Unicode (pretty much anything not in the Roman alphabet; for example, Japanese lettering and Chinese characters).

EDITING TO ADD: I wrote the below struckthrough text before I’d used the new macro workbook, and I hadn’t yet realized that it has a sheet that quickly finds and re-runs the errored playlists in your 8tracks folder (and/or whichever other folders you point it at, if you’ve organized playlist files into multiple folders). It took me less than an hour to use it to fix all the errored playlists out of the over 6,000 total playlists I’d already run! So, my errored playlists from running the first macro are fixed, and if you have errored playlists from running the first macro, it should take just a few clicks and less than an hour’s running time to fix them. :)

So if you want to make sure that closer to all of the playlist URLs you ran through the macro have their tracklists saved, especially for tags/fandoms with many playlists with Unicode (for example, anime fandoms), you may want to re-run them with the new macro (which also has some convenient ways of finding the errored playlists).

However, don’t despair if you won’t have time to re-run URLs; having already saved a majority is much better than nothing having been saved! (If you don’t have time, you can also share your URLs with us at the email above in case someone has time to run them on the new macro, though please know that we may not have time to get to them. Please include a note that they were already run with a previous version—thanks!)

A note for folks who sent me, starfleetdoesntfirefirst, URLs to run: As I mentioned in another post, back in the days of the first macro I was able to get to some or all of what each person sent, but may not have time to get to all of what each person sent depending on when 8tracks shuts down. However, I almost definitely won’t have time to use the new macro to re-run Unicode-containing and other errored playlists I already ran. I’ll pass them along to the rest of this team, but given that none of us can guarantee we’ll get to them before 8tracks shuts down, if you feel strongly about making sure everything you sent to me gets re-run with the new macro, it may be worth pinging your Excel-having friends for aid. (I apologize for this; I didn’t anticipate things getting to this stage rather than a quick pre-New-Years effort!)

How to record & check (some of) which 8tracks tags have already had their playlists extracted

This Dreamwidth post is a place where you can comment to record which 8tracks tags, from any fandom (or nonfandom topic like “autumn”), you have extracted the URLs from, and check which 8tracks tags others have already extracted the URLs from, to avoid unnecessarily duplicating work. (You don’t need a Dreamwidth account to comment!) Not everyone who is extracting URLs is going to know about this post, so no guarantees of avoiding duplication, but it’s a start. :)

How to extract playlist URLs for use with the workbook

Instructions by @meeedeee adapted by me:

1) Do a tag search on 8tracks (or go to your own “liked” or “already listened” page if those are the playlists you want to save). Scroll to the very bottom of the page (so that all playlists have loaded and actually appeared on the page).

Note that if your tag has more than 1000 results, 8tracks will still only grab 1000.

2) Use a link-extracter plugin (like this one for Chrome) to extract all the links on the page.

3) Filter for links with the word “play” in them. This will pull up only the actual playlists. (There were 54 playlists tagged “Nyota Uhura,” and as you can see in the screencap, adding the filter “play” gives exactly 54 results.)

4) Copy into spreadsheet.

Note on Archive Team’s effort

Archive Team is also attempting to archive as many playlists as they can, by random number rather than by tag due to 8tracks’s 1000-playlist limit in tag search. These will probably be stored on the Internet Archive as WARC files, which means that it will be harder for non-power-users to access playlist info, thus our continuing this separate effort.

Per @meeedeee: As a result they dropped trying to archive by tags, instead they’re running 3.5 million random numbers in the hopes of grabbing what they can. On the back end of 8tracks, the playlist data is not stored by URL, or by tag, but by unique numeric identifier. Because of the volume that they have to run, the Archive Team will not be archiving the “look and feel” (user profile icons). Only basic metadata (playlist, user name, comments) and cover art. The meta data will be stored in a json format which looks like this and is not easily readable https://8tracks.com/mixes/3169100/tracks_for_international.jsonh

#8tracks #8tracks tutorial mostrecent

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eltigreus · 4 years

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what’s changed?

when I was younger (not that I now am old or anything), I used to tweet, livejournal, post, share, reblog (with vivacious commentary), and unabashedly expose my self and my expressions in whatever manner I could think of on a daily basis, wherever possible. multiple times a day, in fact. the epitome of screaming into the void - simply for the sake of assuring myself that I am alive and I have thoughts/feelings. but now...

I find myself: habitually/obsessively running my thoughts and opinions through judgement filters before even allowing myself to consider them; reactively scrutinizing the art and expressions of others for no good reason other than to be contradictory; scavenging the depths of my mind for good content and throwing out practically every seed I pull up before it even has a chance to be germinated; refusing to share anything of myself that feels underdeveloped or inadequate for this social platform or that; and (at times, desperately) looking for any minuscule moment of every day life interesting enough to capture on video that I could share with friends, family, followers, and anyone else that might help to contribute to the proliferation of vast opportunity for creation in the realm of entertainment for myself and my cohorts.

“What happened?”

how did that bombastically outspoken, overly-enthusiastic, naïvely ostentatious young artist end up this way?

a while ago, I spoke to a friend who told me,

“You’re all dusty? You used to be so much... shinier?”

to which I immediately shrunk in reaction. “life happened,” I thought to myself.

but, whose life is it? whose life are you leading? whose life are you aspiring towards? is it one of your own creation and desire or is it the one you were indoctrinated to believe is the only “true” option for success in your profession? the one with flagrantly rapid [commercial] success, un-stifled money flow, influential notoriety, and - of course - lots and lots of beautiful [men] of all shapes and sizes at the tips of your fingers awaiting your beck and call?

the reality of this enviable latter life is one only a privileged few get to lead in the business of entertainment; and it is apparent that a vast majority of those few don’t look like me, nor would they refer to themselves as “movement artists” - nor do they seem to register aloud their own contributions (or lack thereof) to the privilege of living this reality; that’s another tangent emotional pi.

“You’re all dusty?”

I’ve had the dirt kicked up on me quite a few times before that day when I met my friend. I had felt myself becoming much more dull in the months that preceded this meeting, but never was able to admit to myself what was happening until someone else was awake enough (and loved me enough) to point it out to me.

“You used to be so much... shiner? You can’t keep giving and giving your light away to other people. You have to replenish and recharge yourself if you want to have anything at all to give to someone else.”

these were some of the things my very conscious friend had said to me that day. he was/is right.

I love to give and I love to avoid myself. but, clearly, this wasn’t always the case. frequently, I attributed this development to the consistent loneliness I was experiencing (even before the quarantine). upon further reflection, I think it would actually be more accurate to say “this re-development” of myself. I think, perhaps, the reason that bombastic young artist was so unapologetically expressive was because he had the time to be so; he had the time to be bored enough to indulge in his own organically-sprouted curiosities and decided to respond to his findings aloud - to himself, to anyone who might hear in passing, to whomever.

the reality was that the make-up of his audience was of no importance; the importance was the act of sharing, the purity of expression - of earnestly recounting experience and emotion. not being concerned with how to indulge in dialogue but inherently knowing that the conversation must be started in order for one to begin to learn.

so how can I expect myself to be so suddenly inspired now when I never give myself enough time to relax and be bored?

quite probably possibly, the production mindset has skewed my view of [my] value. though the efficiency skills I now posses are very useful in a creative process when time is not on our side, the incessant need to constantly produce something in order to feel sufficient - to feel purposeful or worthwhile in any manner - can take irreversible tolls on the body and psyche.

“You’ve got to save some light for yourself.”

I have given my light to choreographers, directors, producers, employers, educators, entrepreneurs, puppet masters, and clowns all with varying degrees of mutual benefit as collaborators and acquaintances. you can tell the ones who are ready to reciprocate your efforts of light-giving from a mile off and - hopefully - you make the effort to ensure that you are able to stick around and continue trading frequencies/creative opportunities. but, why is it that one would choose to stick around when one’s intuition screams at them that their currently-involved endeavor is a one-way highway and all signs along the road offer (clearly threatening) admonitions of fines, tickets, and legal action against those that pick up... hitchhikers?

though you inherently know better, for some reason, you still hope the ones who are there to take what they need and then thank u, next themselves out of your realm of existence will somehow (miraculously) see you as something... special? some thing “worth” taking the time to get to know and grow with. unique enough to take a chance on for a fantastical project that is bound to be the next multi-million dollar franchise which will set you up to do whatever it is celebrities do when they’re not being famous... for the rest of your life? it sounds as ridiculous as it is.

it’s hilarious (and unsurprising), but my professional life and personal life have very closely mirrored parallels. to consider myself a “hitchhiker” in regards to my past methods of approach at forming relationships (romantic and otherwise) with humans is, unfortunately, fairly accurate. the co-dependent nature of matrimony which had been instilled in me since I was a young one has very undesirable affects when put into practice as an “independent adult.”

but how could you expect anything different when your focus is divided between your profession, your partner, your bills, your friends, your dog, your chores ... this list goes on and on. when do you turn your undivided attention inward to reflect on what it is you need/want? I’ve found that even when I am involuntarily alone, I tend to refuse avoid every opportunity for relaxation and self-consideration. (un)fortunately (for me), the Pandemic currently circulating our Mother Earth has removed virtually all possibilities for external distractions. (a moment of singularity is much more easily served surrounded by accessible bars, intoxicants, and unimaginably beautiful people, after all - no?)

before I run off my rails, I think I must pull this train of thought into the station. this lengthy rumination of my past experiences is not meant to serve as a “warning” for those interested in undertaking an artist’s life. I write this, first and foremost, to employ what I’ve criticized myself for not doing throughout this piece: I write this as an act of screaming into the void once again.

I write this to assure myself of my own ability to communicate emotions/thoughts and experiences, and to remind myself of how much I love to do so. I write this also to offer another perspective to others who may feel jaded or deceived along the current portion of their artistic journey. I write this as an act of defiance against my own insecurities.

I write this in the hopes of encouraging whomever might stumble upon it to give yourself a break and assess/pursue what it is that will bring you true fulfillment in this life.

I write this... because I wanted to? because I wanted to. because I wanted to express myself without being bogged down by the waterfall of irrelevance that my mind produces when it feels unsafe or exposed. because I am an expressive human who must allow room for expression when the motivation is pure.

because I’m trying to cure myself from this long-time build up of artistic epididymal hypertension.

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

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foxtophat · 4 years

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HEY HEY HEY!!!! hey guys. haha. um, idk what to say exactly and tumblr likes to eat my posts so lets see how long this lasts:

its’ only been a couple months but i have been frothing at the mouth trying to figure out what next part of mercy to put out. i have a lot of much bigger stories to tell than this one, but kim and john sharing insomnia felt sort of like the right segue into those bigger bits. so for now, let’s just enjoy a 20k fic about Kim and John, and also a little about John and Nick, but mostly just about John and Jacob.

there are 3 chapters. i’ll post the 2nd one later this week (wednesday or friday i think) and the third will probably go up next monday. YEAH THAT’S RIGHT i actually have most of this one finished right out the gate!!!

as usual, i’ll put the entire chapter under a readmore in case you don’t want to leave tumblr. i hope you enjoy what i’ve got for you this time -- if not don’t worry, there will be more dramatic bullshit later :) comments, kudos, reblogs and likes are all the things that make ficwriting more fun than it already is, so consider helping me out if you enjoy what i’m doing. otherwise, have a good day!!!

Kim's dreams are normally composed of fleeting images in dark, monochrome colors. They're howling-wind nightmares or ethereal moments of peace, but they're short-lived and she's always disconnected from them. She hasn't had a real dream in probably nine years. She used to miss them, before John Seed reappeared with all of his night terrors, just in time to remind her of how good she has it. Now, she's glad that the most she has to contest with is a looming sense of dread that fades almost as soon as she wakes up.

But tonight, Kim is a long way away from all of that. She's standing at the kitchen sink in her childhood home, which is in full summer swing. The rosemary plant her mom keeps on the sill is in full bloom, thick green spikes dotted with blue puffball flowers. Beyond it, the Canadian sky is seawater green, and Kim marvels at the fluffy clouds drifting through the unnatural color. They seem to be floating by much faster than the still air outside would imply. It should rattle her, confuse her, but before that realization sinks in, her mom's voice distracts her away.

"Do you really think he's the one?" she asks, as skeptically as she had all those years ago when Kim first decided to move to Montana. Her mother had liked Nick, of course, because he was a likable guy, but Kim had known from the start that her parents were worried about her. They'd worried about her moving to a red state, about her trusting a man she'd seen a handful of times since they'd met. They hadn't understood the idea of purple pockets or internet dating, and while they supported Kim's love of rifle showmanship, they'd never trusted Nick owning more than three guns.

"What's the point, is all I'm asking," Kim's mom laughs in response to Kim's unspoken comment. "It seems strange to collect weapons..."

"Mom, he hunts !" she chides. "And anyway, he isn't the worst one out there."

"That's exactly what I worry about," her mom says. "What if something bad were to happen? His family is gone, and we'll be so far away..."

Kim sighs, the words stinging more than they should. The aqua colored sky begins to churn outside, the light filtering through a strange red haze. Inside, the sunlight reflects off the white counters, nearly blinding Kim.

"I'll be okay," she says, reciting an amalgamation of all her old defenses as her eyes readjust. "There are a lot of good people out there. They rely on each other a whole lot more than we do here."

"I worry about you, Kimiko. That's all." Her mother sighs sadly. "You'll understand when you have kids of your own."

"But mom..."

Kim tries to tell her that she already has a kid, but she can't muster up the words. After all, shouldn't she know? Wouldn't Kim have visited? Wouldn't she have brought Carmina into this very kitchen, all the surfaces glowing with light, and introduced them? Wouldn't her mom have been there when Carmina was born?

"It's unseasonably warm, isn't it," her dad remarks at the table. He's sitting there with a magazine as if he'd been there the whole time. He, like the rest of the room, glows from the inside, as though a flashlight were shining through his skin. It shines through the wood of the table, through her mom's curious smile, until Kim has to turn her face away. The room grows hotter and hotter, and in the far-off whistling wind she hears the first lonesome wail of an air-raid siren beginning to pick up. There's a blinding burst of light and howling wind, and Kim lifts her hands to her face, desperate not to look directly at the blast —

The bedroom is dark, warm and humid. At first, Kim doesn't know where she is, struggling to sit up, desperate to run, until all at once reality comes crashing back into focus. It doesn't help that she's pinned beneath Nick's arm and Carmina's full dead-sleeping weight.

Normally, moving would be out of the question. But Kim doesn't want this dream clinging to her memory, and she desperately wants to put some space between her and the nuclear glow of her mother's smile. Hell, maybe it isn't the dream at all — maybe it's the heat that's making lying here unbearable. Maybe it's the extra weight pinning her down, or a panic attack waiting in the wings — whatever it is, she needs to get up and run from it. As she worms her way out from underneath her family, Kim can feel the pressure building behind her eyes, fueled by the need to jog out the tension that will soon become unbearable. She needs to exercise the nightmare away before it sticks around and ruins the rest of her night.

It's probably already too late for that. The back of Kim's eyes are itchy with tears as she struggles to get free. She's already memorized her mom's smile, trapped forever in radioactive amber, and that alone is enough trauma to fuel ten more terrible dreams.

Nick and Carmina remain peacefully asleep, even as Kim extracts herself from the bed. That's good — the last thing she needs to do is worry Nick, whose own sleeping habits have just started to even out. He'll try to keep her company, and they'll just wind up keeping each other up, which wasn't ideal back in the day and definitely isn't ideal now .

Even though Carmina sleeps like the dead and Nick isn't likely to hear her, Kim is careful to watch out for the creakiest steps as she heads downstairs. Sunrise isn't for a few hours yet, but Kim isn't going to let that stop her from insomnia-pacing around her own home. It used to be that Kim would jog laps on the runway to clear her head, but that isn't going to work nowadays. She still wants to, of course; she's desperate to step out into the relatively cool night air and run herself ragged enough to pass out again, but that's out of the question. She's not about to break her own rule.

It's only once Kim is downstairs that she starts to relax, lighting one of the candles left out on the table. The light is just barely enough to see by, and Kim struggles to find something to clean up or organize in the half-dark. All of the coping mechanisms that got her through eight years of bunker living have fallen flat in the face of the apocalypse, but that doesn't keep her from trying them over and over again. Some techniques are more adaptable, but it isn't like she can dig into reorganizing the hangar for Nick at... whatever time it is now. Not without somebody catching her breaking her own rules about going outside alone.

If she had any books worth reading, she could throw herself into that, but she can't bear the manuals and children's books right now. Maybe if there was a radio station she could listen to... but no, she wouldn't want to risk burning out the radio after everything Nick and John went through to fix it. There's not going to be another Hail Mary when it comes to that kind of repair.

Her mom would probably use this time to make a series of endless lists. Grocery lists, to-do lists, lists of pros and cons for buying new appliances or inviting Kim's awful step-grandmother to her wedding... there was nothing that her mom couldn't organize into a column of bullet points or check-boxes. Kim could probably do with a few lists herself, but where is she supposed to get the paper? And even if a supply list wouldn't be a waste of resources, where would she go to fill it? It's going to be a while before they can pick up flour from the farmer's market again, that's for sure.

Well, at least wasting some paper will keep her mind busy. There's too much stuff they need, and she's going to drive herself crazy trying to remember all of it. Anyway, they've been using decades-old junk mail to prop up the radio desk — it can't be wasted if it was already trash, right?

She's careful in her search for a decent piece of mail, not wanting to tip the radio over as she jimmies a yellowed envelope from under the desk. It's only once she's back at the table with a worn-down nub of a pencil that she finds herself hesitating. After all, what is she supposed to write? What could they reasonably expect to get out here, with no supply chain to rely on? Everything that comes to mind is laughably improbable at best.

It doesn't really matter, though, does it? They're probably not going to be able to find anything besides what they can hunt and grow for themselves, so any food she writes down will be wishful thinking. John had offered to help their scavenging efforts, but it isn't likely they'll find working walkie-talkies or a new car. People who have been above ground longer than the Ryes have already taken over key resource points, and they'll be hard-pressed to give up things without a fair trade. And until they can reliably communicate with one another, trading is going to be nearly impossible. One day, maybe, they'll have trading posts and reliable supply chains, but like other pieces of their fractured society, that's not coming for a long time yet.

Staring at a blank piece of paper is worse than writing something stupid down, and so Kim quickly scribbles the word flour across the top of the envelope. She can't imagine that's going to be a reasonable expectation for a while, but at least it's on paper — and it's outlandish enough that it encourages her to continue, her thoughts darting between impossible dreams and honest reality. Salt , she thinks might not be quite as hard to find. Sugar, probably impossible. For now, they can hope for honey instead.

It goes on like that, growing more abstract as Kim lets herself dream. Milk, eggs, bread, twinkies , meat grinder, hamburgers, tomatoes, grains (seeds), grill (charcoal), gas, gas canisters (storage), duct tape, insulation foam (spray, sheet), toilet cleaner, toilet, hot water, plumbing, bathtub! , tarp, doors, ammunition, floodlights, security system, cans + string (security) —

Her flow is interrupted by a soft, distant thud somewhere upstairs. Kim listens for a few tense seconds, waiting to hear boots on the roof, the hiss of a walkie-talkie, or the slide-click of a gun being cocked. Without the cult, those fears go unrealized, and Kim slumps tiredly into her seat. She's just as paranoid about armed cultists tonight as she is about wild animals, although she's sure that's just her nightmare talking. Eden's Gate is nowhere near the threat it used to be.

The relief is short-lived, as is her solitude, when she hears an upstairs door click shut, followed by the sound of quick footsteps on the landing. The house is too old for any real attempt at stealth, but John tries to avoid the worst offending stairs on his way down. He only realizes Kim is there when he notices the candlelight, coming to an abrupt stop on the last step, one hand clutching the banister tight.

He's sweaty and out of sorts as he wipes his limp hair out of his face. "Oh," he rasps. "Kim."

He's surprised to see her. Kim should be surprised, too — it's one thing to know that John wanders the house at night, but it's another to see it happen in real-time. Honestly, she's barely phased by his appearance. John's sleep schedule has been bunker-erratic ever since Nick brought him home, and no amount of diurnal activity has managed to change it. If anything, Kim suspects he gets less sleep now than he did underground. It isn't for lack of trying, she's sure, but this isn't the first time she's heard him stumbling around in the dark. It's just the first time she's been in the same boat.

"Late night?" she asks.

John struggles once more with the hair in his eyes before giving up. "Just needed some air," he rasps, minding his volume. "Some water."

"Don't mind me," she replies, surprising herself with her own ambivalence. Knowing he moves around while they're sleeping is one thing, but seeing it should be upsetting. It should bother her when he avoids creaky floorboards on his way to help himself to their fresh water. It should make her angry to see him using their resources; at the very least, it should have upset her back when it began normalizing. But, honestly, it hadn't. Kim had just been relieved to see John acting like a person, and not just a haunted shell.

John wipes the back of his hand across his mouth, regarding Kim with deep uncertainty that Kim mostly makes out from his hunched shoulders and tense posture. He tries to hide just how lost he is, but Kim never misses it when he slips. It's not that she's sympathetic towards him, exactly, but she knows just enough about his history to want to pity him.

He doesn't speak, not even after the silence stretches out. Maybe he's waiting for her to make the first move?

The thought almost makes her laugh, but she still cuts him some slack. "Can't sleep either, huh?" she asks.

"Hardly ever," John replies, although he clearly isn't looking for reassurance. He takes a step away from the kitchen, hovering in the nebulous space between the table and the stairs. He's usually quick to leave Kim alone — quicker than he is with Nick, anyway — and so she appreciates the fact that he doesn't run now.

His voice cracks on its low pitch as he haltingly asks, "What are you doing?"

For just a second, Kim imagines giving John the cold shoulder and telling him it's none of his business. But the thought fades as quickly as it comes; it's replaced by the knowledge that John is just as dependent on the family's supplies as she is. Anything she needs, he'll also need. And besides, she's almost positive he'd been in control of the cult's supplies, which means he might have an idea of what they should realistically be looking for. He would know what the cult had planned to do, and she could probably translate that into useful advice.

"Just making a list," she sighs. It sounds stupid enough to make her wince, and she concedes with a joke, "You know, for the next time we're at Wal-Mart."

John huffs in amusement and approaches the table. Now that she's got an audience, Kim wants nothing more to do with the list, and so she pushes towards him before slumping back into her chair. Instead of the quick, distracted glance she had been expecting, John leans over to read it in full. The longer he reads, the more embarrassed Kim is of her late-night daydreaming, but he finishes with the list before she can grab it back.

"Some of these are... more manageable than others," he says, using the same kind of diplomacy he utilizes whenever Nick makes a particularly dumb comment.

"Uh, yeah ," she says, embarrassed even if she isn't surprised. "I know. It was just... taking up space in my head. I needed to write it down, otherwise, I'm going to be up all night."

Kim runs her hand through her hair, waiting for John to retreat as quickly as he'd arrived. Instead, John rereads the list once more. Kim can see his amusement much more plainly as he leans into the candlelight. It highlights the deep bags under his eyes as well, but who isn't carrying that particular mark of exhaustion these days?

"Ammunition isn't as high on the list as I'd imagined," he comments.

"We're okay on bullets for now," she replies. "And it's not like there's much to spare."

Whether or not that satisfies John, Kim isn't sure. He only hums in response, eyes roaming down the paper.

"I see you didn't bother to add more guns."

"We don't need more guns," Kim insists, although it's not strictly true. She's just hesitant to overwhelm the house with firearms. They've been getting on just fine with what they have — any more, and they might turn into a target themselves. One day, sure, they'll need to find something for Carmina to carry on her own, but that day is a long, long way away.

She doesn't need to explain herself to anyone, let alone John Seed, but as he watches her and waits for more, she feels compelled to justify herself. "I don't think we're going to find spare guns or ammunition just lying around, and I'm not about to take them by force. We've managed just fine with what we have."

"For now," John points out. "Things could change. It won't stay this calm forever."

"Why not?" Kim retorts, feeling childish and petulant as soon as the words leave her mouth. "Why do you even care? You're certainly not getting armed."

John clicks his tongue against his teeth. "It's not that," he says, only to abruptly roll over with a muttered, "Never mind."

If John thinks he can avoid the conversation that easily, he has another thing coming. "No, what is it?" she asks.

"It's nothing," he sighs, as if arrogantly dismissing her will keep Kim from pushing. When Kim only frowns unhappily back at him, he reluctantly relents. "Joseph had said taking your weapons was the only way we could ensure you wouldn't use them after the Collapse. And if we didn't lock them away, it would be all you would look for." He stares at the list, although Kim imagines his thoughts are about fifty miles away. "It's stunning how wrong he was about everything. But there are reminders everywhere."

John rarely speaks about Joseph; Kim hasn't heard him broach the subject of his own volition before. The only person who ever talks to him about his brother is Jerome, and those conversations are private and short. Having John bring him up with almost no needling feels like a step forward, even if it's only a small one. Even though John is anxious saying Joseph's name.

It's so easy to forget how much control Joseph had over John. Kim has to make a concentrated effort now and again to remind herself that Joseph hadn't only brainwashed normal, desperate people, but his own family. She can't imagine doing anything to Carmina or Nick that would turn them into the angry, anxious mess John had been even before the Collapse. Not even if it meant they would always do what they were told and would trust her implicitly. She couldn't bear it if Nick ever talked about her the way John talks about Joseph. It's late enough that Kim finds herself wondering how Joseph can even sleep at night.

"It's stupid," John says, taking Kim's contemplative silence as disapproval. "I should have known better."

He inhales, letting out a shaky breath, and closes his eyes briefly. When he opens them, they're suspiciously shiny in the candlelight. It sparks a genuine pang of sympathy in Kim, but there's nothing she can say or do to help him. Nothing she's done so far has made an impact.

"Some of this is reasonable enough," John says, desperately trying to redirect the conversation back to the list. It's an obvious, flat-footed attempt to avoid a tender spot in his psyche, but Kim is willing to let it slide.

"Sure, eventually . But we're a long way off from hot baths and backyard barbecues, much less flour and sugar."

"Those are... less reasonable," he admits, dragging his finger across one of the harder to come by items. Still, he isn't nearly as deterred as she is. "But not everything is impossible to come by. Insulation, for one. Tarp, duct tape. Components like that should be easy enough to find." He taps his finger against the envelope. "And there still places to investigate. Root cellars nobody bothered to touch. Caches you never found. Things hidden in places you wouldn't know to look, especially if you weren't in the Project."

Frowning, Kim rereads a few of the items upside-down from her side of the table. "It's been almost nine years," Kim points out, reluctant to get her hopes up so easily. "Isn't it more likely that everything good has already been discovered?"

Still... John's mentioned secret Eden's Gate supplies before. Given the size of the project and how long they were operating in the county, it's not impossible that some of their hidden stashes haven't been found yet. And they were planning for the apocalypse, right? They'd likely have saved things that could last for a long time. John isn't wrong — more ammunition and more weapons would be helpful. At the very least, they could help arm other survivors.

"It wouldn't hurt to have a look, I guess," Kim relents after thinking it over. "How good is your memory?"

That earns her a rare, quiet chuckle from John. "Middling to poor," he admits, "Although if I had a map, it would help. It would make it easier to mark what I remember."

"To think, it only took nine years and an apocalypse for you to finally hand over the intel."

John huffs, but his response is only mildly offended. "Do you want what I have to offer, or not?"

"Don't be like that," Kim says, placating him with a smile. "It would be a big help. It'll help me sleep better, anyway."

It seems there's more on John's mind than Kim teasing him, since he takes the non-apology and moves on without a fight. "Jacob had caches buried for after the Reaping," he says. "They'll most likely be weapons, but he was... hard to read. It could be that he stored survival equipment in one. There were a few in the valley, but most of them would be in the mountains."

Kim shakes her head at that. "As far as I've heard, nobody's made it very far north. And the stories I have heard aren't good. The dam broke, so a lot of the area is flooded, and supposedly the radiation is still pretty bad."

John hums briefly as he considers the facts. He leans contemplatively over the list, and for a moment Kim wonders if this was a common occurrence for him before the Collapse. How many late nights did he spend bent over a map while his brothers watched and waited for his decisions? She has to suspect it was a lot, because this is the first time she's seen John look even remotely confident.

That confidence is clear in his voice as he remarks defiantly, "I suppose the valley will do until we get airborne again. Let flooding stop us then ."

"Oh, okay," Kim laughs, checking her volume before she lets her amusement wake up the rest of her family. "You are just like Nick. Neither of you are going to give up until you get back in the sky, huh?"

"Exactly," John replies. "I won't trust anybody else to do it. Realistically, a helicopter would be the best option..."

"Oh, right," Kim chuckles. " Realistically ."

John taps accusingly at the list and raises an eyebrow at her. "Less realistic than hot water and iodized table salt?"

If Kim didn't know better, she might think that John is actually teasing her. He normally saves that kind of attitude for Nick, who prefers arguing through and around problems. Kim, on the other hand, rarely has the energy to deal with avoidance tactics, and so she tends to demand his sincerity. Thankfully, the liminal time of just-about-three has softened her stance on the matter.

"Okay," she relents with a smile. "Sure. Might as well add helicopters to the list." It would be a pretty big get for them, all things considered. And anyway, John's right — Kim wouldn't trust flying in a plane jury-rigged together by anyone other than Nick.

But that's a resource that will come in the nebulous future, and Kim's too realistic to worry years in advance right now. There are more pressing concerns to deal with, first — like food, water and security. Any caches John can find will at least fulfill one of those priorities, although Kim can't imagine the cult storing anything other than ammunition and weapons. But even if the caches don't pan out, they might find valuable scrap, like logs for firewood, furniture they can re-purpose, or even old survivalist caches that nobody thought to dig up after the world ended. And now that there are four of them, Kim won't feel so uncomfortable when Nick wants to drive to the middle of nowhere looking for supplies.

Kim sighs with relief, feeling a weight roll off her back that she hadn't been trying to remove. "Things will be a lot easier if you can help us with supplies. And I'll feel better about Nick going out if he has somebody to watch his back."

John pulls the same face he usually makes when someone implies they trust him. Kim could ignore it — after all, John doesn't need to believe they trust them for it to be true. Too bad for him, it's too late at night for her to turn a blind eye. "Oh, get over it," she tells him, unable to help a lopsided smile at his offended scowl. "I seriously doubt you're planning on murdering us at this point. And I know Nick is smart enough to knock the crap out of you if he thinks you've changed your mind."

"I won't," John immediately replies.

Kim believes him, if only because there's nobody left for John to rely on other than them. "Good. Because if I can trust you, that means I won't worry about Nick when he decides to go farther than town. It means we can spend more meaningful time with Carmina, too. Anyway, Nick likes bossing you around, and you like being bossed around, so everybody wins."

John ducks his head, embarrassed, but Kim laughs to let him know she's only teasing. "Seriously," she says, relenting for his benefit, "It does help. It's good to have somebody else to rely on."

"I... want to be helpful," John replies, although Kim suspects that he might be confusing his wants and needs again. It's not quite a compulsion anymore, but even John's most heated attempts to argue about a job end with him rolling over quick. He hasn't outright refused to do something, and Kim doesn't think he ever will, if only to prove to himself one more time that he might actually be capable of change.

It might get annoying one day, but for now, Kim can respect his intense desire to make amends. She just wishes he would accept some form of gratitude or praise in return, to make it less awkward on her end.

Kim rests her hands momentarily on the tabletop, tapping her fingers briefly against the wood. "Okay," she softly declares, "I think I'm going to try to get back to sleep." Whatever she winds up dreaming about now, she's pretty sure it won't be the same awful nightmare again — and that's at least partially because of John's intervention. She figures it's worth telling him as much. "You made a pretty good distraction, so thanks."

He nods immediately in response. "Of course," he replies, momentarily bewildered as he checks Kim's expression for signs of sarcasm or annoyance. His posture relaxes as Kim stands, although Kim imagines his relief is temporary. He's pretty good at working himself up into anxious frenzies — staying out of them is another matter entirely.

"Try to get some sleep yourself, okay?" Kim suggests.

There's no way John means it when he says, "I will," but at least he's willing to placate her instead of getting mad at her being concerned in the first place.

"And try not to wake up Carmina."

John nods affirmatively. Kim's positive that he'll sneak outside once she's gone upstairs, but at least he's waiting patiently for her to leave. If it weren't for her returning exhaustion, Kim might've used him as an excuse to do her own late-night workout, but it'll have to do to merely turn a blind eye to him edging around her rule about going out after dark alone. Kim and Nick have both been woken up by the exterior doors, but John never goes beyond the planters out back, and he always closes up when he comes back in. Kim could call him out on it, but... well, it seems like he needs the freedom.

Kim says goodnight and is mildly surprised when John returns it without any lingering sarcasm. He must be pretty tired, but that's not really a surprise. Hopefully, he'll try to take some of her concern to heart, or at least pretend for her sake.

Although Carmina is definitely still asleep when Kim returns to the bedroom, Nick is watching her with bleary-eyed curiosity. He waits until she's closed the door to speak up, and even then it's a dull, quiet whisper.

"Everything okay?" he asks.

He doesn't mind waiting for Kim to creep back to bed before she answers. "It is," she tells him, gratefully crawling into bed as he opens his arms for her. He folds his arms over her shoulders, letting her wiggle into a comfortable spot before she explains in a whisper. "I needed to move around, and John came downstairs. That's all."

"Hope he wasn't a creep," Nick mumbles into her hair. Kim sighs laughingly into his collarbone, which is already sticking to her cheek with sweat. There's no way she's going to be wrapped up in Nick's arms all night, not when it's this hot, but she'll appreciate it while she's got it.

"Not yet," Kim says. "Just talking about supplies." She presses a kiss to Nick's shoulder and whispers, "We'll talk about it in the morning."

Nick hums happily into Kim's hair. "Sounds good to me," he mumbles. The less they talk about John Seed, the better, after all. Especially right now, when they're tangled up in bed with their daughter snoring next to them; there's no room for serious conversation, and there's absolutely no room for John. There's no space for the nightmares that woke her, either; as Kim falls asleep, Nick's hand tangled up in her hair, she thankfully forgets everything save for a warm, melancholy amber glow.

#fc5 #fcnd #john seed #kim rye #far cry new dawn #its only the first 5 right i can't remember #i feel like i was channeling james a janice here for a minute #HEY GUYS welcome to the kill count where we'll be tallying up all the skeletons in john seed's closet #mercyverse #my fic

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tarithenurse · 5 years

Text

Agent of Hope - 19

Your world falls into ruin together with the Strategic Homeland Intervention Enforcements Logistics Division when you find out that your boyfriend isn’t one of the good guys. Pairing: Brock Rumlow x fem!reader, Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader Contents: Hmmm...weapons, fluff, dealing with trauma, mention of rape, masturbation, violent reaction, difficult choices, more fluff, and kissing. A/N: Thanks to all of you who like and especially reblog <3 On a second note: been looking for houses (need to move out of my parents’ place with my husband bc omfc). Also that GIF just is epic.

19 - An offer you can’t refuse

… Romanoff …

The tinny jingle from the Goldfish commercials doesn’t cause hesitation to the hands moving rapidly to find and connect the right parts needed in the task of assembling three different guns. Only when the last weapon is locked (and loaded) does Natasha spin the cell phone on the table with a frown. Unknown caller, but the small dots in the corner indicate that Jarvis is tracking down the number already and will have an answer in three…two…one…ugh! Langley.

“Afternoon.” The tone is flat enough to show the lack of enthusiasm without being downright rude. “What more does Langley want post-hearings?”

She can almost hear the crooked smile. “Hrph…I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, miss Romanova.” The twist to the last name sends shivers down the former Russian’s spine but the familiar voice continues. “I’m agent Ross…we met during the hearings…?”

The silence is allowed to reign in an attempt to get the man to talk, maybe say too much. Meanwhile, Natasha brings the Glock 26 behind the back and starts to dismantle it, counting the seconds it takes before every piece of metal is spread out on the couch cushion behind her, careful not to lose the pins or the little spring for the trigger.

“Miss uhm…miss Romanova? You there?”

Nervous. Not enough. “…yeah.”

“Good! Good. Yes…” Some paper rustles through the line. “Right…I know the hearings’ve been long and prob’ly bothersome,” agent Ross hesitates to allow for some comment but gets none, “s’I can completely understand and respect if y’aren’t interested, however…I believe that you may ‘ave information that could be of benefit to u- to the Agency, I mean, in terms of filling some gaps. Erm I think…what I’m trying to say’s would it be possible for you to – off record – have a look at our older intel?”

Wait…waaiit…one more second. An intake of breath is Natasha’s cue. “You want me to shed light on old cases that’ve gone sideways?”

“Well –“

“You think either SHIELD, Hydra, or maybe my former handlers could’ve botched it for you guys?” By now the short agent’s sputtering in embarrassment, maybe hoping for the weak protests to soothe any slights the insinuation could have caused. “Send me a top ten and I’ll see what I can do.”

“Really?!”

Yeah, why would I? Simply put, Natasha hates being out of the loop, and the spy in her is aching for the chance of (legally) getting hold of CIA intel. More than that, though, she’s learned the hard way how precious the currency known as “favours” are. Owe someone something? They’ll have a hook in you forever. Someone owes you? It can be the difference between life and death. An IOU from a CIA agent…that could be handy.

“No promises I can actually tell you more than y’know already.”

Movement behind her makes the Avenger turn her head, a smile already curving her lips at the presence of [Y/N] who eyes the weapons (and parts) cautiously.

“Oh, no! That’s okay, no worries!” An idiot might refuse the tentative offer and Ross is far from that. “I’ll compile the files and get them to…you…uhm…”

“I’ll text you an address.” A slightly oil-greased finger hovers over the phone already. “Bye, agent Everett Ross.”

… Rumlow …

The fly circles the room a few times before finally settling on the person in the corner, climbing across brown-stained jeans in short sprints before reaching the lax hand and taking off again. Next time the insect lands it’s by the dried spatter on the wall where the bullet had made a small crater when it exited the skull of…who was that? A glance at the pens and the old-fashioned glasses makes Brock guess at some dusty field of expertise like history or literature. Whatever it had been, the man had decided it was better to risk it all and go looking for Hydra on nothing but a rumour.

“Don’t mind zat,” Strucker dismisses the sight easily, “ze interesting zing is zis.” Careful not to touch, he points at the darkened veins and (with the help of a metal rod) the unnaturally blue eyes. “Ze experiment was quite a success, my friend. We are able to channel ze power of ze weapon into humans.”

“They all end up like this so far?” The eyelid hasn’t lowered again, so the endless glow of space is staring blindly at Brock no matter where he moves. “A bullet in the brain? Why did he get that?”

Chuckling softly, Strucker wipes the little stick in a handkerchief which he folds before depositing both in a pocket. “Zis man gained immense strengz but lacked control.” Oh. “Perhaps zere is a stronger connection between the state of mind and ze results zan we anticipated. We are now looking for actual volunteers.”

…

Fuck. However Loki did it remains a mystery still, but Brock won’t give up the hope that it will be possible to figure out how to control another person with the staff. Damnit, he’d seen the bit of salvaged footage and read the debriefs portraying the events when the Asgardian came to Earth and brainwashed top agents in no time.

The results of Strucker’s and his team’s work is vital both for the promotion of Hydra’s scheme…and to get anything useful from [Y/N] when she will get back again. I’ll be damned if it kills her. Brock’s all too aware that his craving for the ex-girlfriend wouldn’t be condoned if anyone knew – to be fair, he doesn’t quite like it himself because it makes him feel like he isn’t in control of his own damn mind. Every dream is either about missions and kills, sending adrenalin pumping through his veins, or they feature every detail of [Y/N].

The little smile when she was lost in thought. Her spine curving to jut the breasts upwards, skin subtle under Brock’s hands. Remembering the teasing hitches in her breath on a sunny morning, light filtering through the windows to catch in her hair as they made their bed creak together a lifetime ago.

“Godfuckingdamnit!”

Already, an erection is pressing painfully hard against tac-pants and Brock shoves a fist down to reposition the stubborn cock only for a new memory to appear the moment his fingers close around the shaft. Shea-butter mixed with sweat on pebbled nipples…perfect taste. There’s not much room to move the hand, but at least the pants are easily opened allowing for longer strokes.

The speed accelerates with each recollection, fist tightening and twisting while the echoes of [Y/N]’s moans are replaced by cries tearing from her throat when he took her with force. Fuck, it was so good, the man admits to himself, the struggle…oh yeah…the…the control. Breathing laboured, Brock has to lean against the wall, unable to stagger the last few steps over to his cot. She’d begged and pleaded, and he had been the one to grant her peace…or not.

He grunts as he comes. White stickiness spurting between his fingers, adding to the blurry haze from the inability to focus on anything else than the rush thrumming through the veins. It’ll be a short reprieve before the need returns like an endless hunger that nothing can sate. One thing can. But [Y/N] isn’t here, she’s tugged away somewhere with the fucking Avengers and that makes it all a million times worse because to think that Romanoff or maybe even Steve get to be close to her. Get to touch her, smell her.

It stings pleasantly when the hand connects with the drywalling and the structure behind it, thin strings of cum hanging from the torn plaster. At least that clears Brock’s mind a bit.

… Reader …

Lying awake all night, it’s almost a relief to sense the grey dimness take over the room and allow the outlines of furniture to stand out – not even Natasha’s steady breathing has been able to calm your mind after the hours of training spent to tire out your body at least. Why this time?! You’ve spent more than enough nights trying to escape nightmarish memories and negative thoughts but this…this issue is different and you’re happy with the decision you’ve made. I should just tell her.

It’s almost possible to make out the contours of Tasha against the white pillow, darker hair spreading like a halo of smoke. You know she sleeps lightly. Brushing your lips featherlight across her cheek, and she already turns to find your mouth with her own. Sweet and lazy kisses, a single tug to your bottom lip. Morning breath is a non-issue when she invites you into a bubble of gentle safety. Home.

“Morning, babe.” Her fingers tease the shortest hairs in your neck. “You’ve managed to sleep at all?”

There’s no reason to answer, just plant a peck on her nose. “I’ve made up my mind,” you offer as consolation, “and I hope you’ll understand why it’s important to me.”

The love never disappears from the touch while she sits up against the headboard. If it was light enough, you think you might see cautious interest mingled with concern in her eyes because Tasha isn’t as good as hiding it as she thinks she is. That’s a secret though.

“Okay…” She drags you onto her lap, straddling her so the strong arms can wrap around your waist. “Is it about the call from Ross?”

The scent of shampoo still clings to her hair as you bury your face in it, happy to talk into the red mess. “Yes, but mainly it’s about wanting to do what I can.”

Of course your reasoning isn’t perfect, but Natasha doesn’t interrupt even once as you explain how you want to do your part to support the hearings and the new request from the CIA by giving a testimony. Gifted or not, at least there’s information about Brock that can be of use and it seems someone else than just the Avengers are trying to clean things up…hopefully that includes tracking down the people that can be identified to Hydra through the data dumped on the net the day SHIELD fell. You promise to keep the ability secret to anyone outside of Natasha and her friends...admitting that you’ll have to be careful although you’ve got the most convincing cover to any strange phrasing “thanks” to what Brock and his people have put you through while in their hands.

The colours have returned to the world by the time you finish explaining. Dusty lavender heightens the rosy cheeks of the woman looking at you with a serious expression that makes your stomach knot. I have to do this. It’ll be hard as fuck, but it feels right. Feels important.

“I’ll let him know,” Tasha whispers, pulling you in for a tight embrace, “and I’ll be with you all the time.”

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ayakashiramblings · 5 years

Text

Dawn and Twilight’s Social Media Accounts

Kuya

@NevermoreButSnore.

1230 followers.

Yes, I copied Edgar Allan Poe. Yes, I’m not sorry about the rhyme. Or calling him out.

Not that he really cares.

Insists that he is a headcanon creator on Twitter

Everyone who follows him knows that he is lying.

If we really had to classify him as a writer, it would one who posts those way-too-accurate posts about writers complaining about writing.

Like the notebook hoarding one. Not that anyone here in the fandom is guilty of that, haha... haha... ha.

Ironically is one of the more popular ones out of the whole group.

His flat responses and laziness are way too prominent to NOT be noticed.

If you actually tentatively sneak into his DMs though, for writing tips, he will patiently listen and... rather bluntly advise you.

It’s still advice though and is always the type to check out and reblog any short fanfics.

It just has to be weird, sporadic hours because he is the type to fall asleep with the phone on his face.

Koga Kitamikado

1230 followers.

@CapitalKayKay

Listen, there is a reason why a lot of successful businesses chose Instagram as their social media so Koga is no exception.

What makes his account stand out, as you can see from his rather cheeky username, is that he is willing to be an open book.

So he isn’t constantly shoving down any products he is sponsoring or whatever piece he is endorsing.

It’s more of genuinely wanting to hang out and explore what the world has to offer.

Whenever he posts a picture of the gang together, he’s the one tagging all of them, even the ones with hard usernames.

And there’s always a nice comment thanking whoever hosted the fun time or being appreciative of the area and the locals.

It helps that he has a sense of humour so the memes are always just the right amount of teasing but nothing too bad that will deter potential clients.

Because of his down-to-earth nature, he reels everyone in.

Uses the space to invite everyone following him on any celebration/casual outing.

The thing is... he has a lot of followers.

So... good luck.

Aoi

1150 followers.

@DeredArtTooTsun

Look, even he knows he is a Tsundere. It’s a small victory getting him to acknowledge that, let alone use it to brand himself here.

But god, he’s the man I’m most jealous of on Tumblr.

PERFECT BULLET JOURNALS AND SKETCHES.

Got the spreads that literally define ‘aesthetic’, a perfect lineup of art materials even with pencils that have their numbers faded, and somehow, the emotions can pass through the paper and screen.

Even does tutorials on perspectives, positions with cute annotations. Just don’t praise them for being adorable though and focus on improving your skills, dummy.

Ironically though, it’s his mindless vents that get the most number of notes.

It helps that the pics include him, a very cute... I mean... manly boy screaming at very, very hot men.

A bit baffled but whatever it takes to get commissions.

That’s right, he takes them. At least there is a back-up option should the restaurant ever go out of business.

Spoiler Alert: Still doesn’t get paid as much. People, have you seen the number of talented artists here? Aoi might be in the rankings but it’s still hard attracting business.

Support your fandom artists, everyone!

Ginnojo

1000 followers. Just nice.

Ginnojoz

Poor grandpa didn’t intend to put that extra ‘z’ letter, it was a typo because scales don’t get along with haptic touch.

And unfortunately, doesn’t understand how to change it.

Once, he was huge on Vine before it died. The end of an era that he has to witness again. RIP.

Gin-Gin, it is RIGHT. THERE.

Expect to find his super short self-defence videos and Book Club Readings on YouTube.

Girls actually appreciate his instructions and attempts to provide help even if they are alone.

He did try to respond to the nice ones and actually succeeds.

It’s always easier getting to know the language of women when you don’t really see/touch them.

A deep baritone is perfect for some sexy excerpt of a historical novel...

Until he corrects the setting.

In fact, he sometimes rage-quits and rewrites it.

Unlike Kuya, him doing those established ideas actually catches on.

Yura and Gaku

1500 followers.

MelodyandTheBeat.

... Tik-tokers. Tik-Tok people?

WTH do you call them?

As you can see, they are the most popular since it’s combined stardom.

Look, their covers and music mixes are beautiful.

They always have their own version that somehow combines traditional Japanese music... with k-pop.

And of course, food porn.

Just be grateful there isn’t that awful squelching sound you hear when you consume jelly or the breaking of chilli seeds.

Listen, I usually separate them because it’s never nice to be grouped as having the same activity as your twin.

But in this case, being both equally beautiful AND talented sells their uploads.

Even the cringy ones made because Yura is such a Luddite.

Like just turning his head and being amazed his hair can turn so many colours, being impressed with each tilt until he gets to a black shade.

Suddenly hurls the phone away. Gee, wonder why? Guess black isn’t the new... black for him?

Gaku sometimes even introduces new filters he created based on Yura’s random requests that strangely get circulated on the site.

Oji

550 followers all know Oji-Sanz

Unlike Ginnojo, he deliberately adds the ‘z’ letter to sound cool.

You wanna know what’s worse?

He actually uses Facebook.

Aoi decides to give up on him. Nobody blames the poor student.

It’s apparently some old form of social media? Never used it, no sirree.

Always changing his relationship status but at the end of the day, he’s single and ready...

To post about all the lovely ladies destined to enter his restaurant.

He thinks it’s great publicity.

It really isn’t but one good thing about Oji is he includes EVERYONE.

This man respects his customers and always helps advertise their wares, especially if their connections lead to more resources.

And less grocery shopping on his part.

Does post the recipes he and Aoi created but will never use because the Milk Hall had a certain style to follow.

Officially makes Aoi his son... on Facebook at least.

Aoi now tolerates the account.

Barely.

Toichiro Yuri

WhatheMeSay has 1231 followers!

In your face @CapitalKayKay and @NevermorebutSnore!!

You know, I’m so glad that there aren’t any users with those names because I’d be so scared of accidentally tagging them.

Also, geddit? Because... What the fox say?

Ding, ding, ding, ding, ding... yeah, I’ll stop.

Pinterest Guy. And actually does spend on his ‘hobby’ to show off to everyone.

It does boost you and your father’s sales so there is nothing to complain about.

His boards are always alliterated just to sound super catchy and it works so long as he gets the right emoji.

Kabuki plays better be promoted or else.

Filled with candid pictures of his victims all taken at different angles you didn’t know were possible and in varying degrees of hilariously misunderstood positions.

He even supplies a donation link, heavily leveraged by his followers, since there are incentives tied to it like early access.

A bit suspicious the photos look like cropped out parts from Koga’s posts and some of the text resembles Kuya’s... er... wisdom?

He takes an unholy amount of selfies when he thinks no one is looking and so they are always surprised upon finding them on the Selfie Board.

There is a locked board that no one can access, even his followers who are his comrades in real life.

It’s actually just one picture in there.

It’s you smiling and giggling at a joke of his. Not even you know it’s been taken. Guess he is as soft as his fur, eh? He better come out soon or else.

Kuro

Kuroruohtumbling

Ginnojo is unfortunately just old enough to have grown up with Scooby-Doo to understand the reference.

Snapchat, like a snapping snake! Hiss!

Unironically loves the puppy face.

Ok, but the glimpses of his stunts help show snippets of the circus life.

He and his whole troupe family will even don costumes best suited for certain filters.

Sometimes ropes in Ginnojo... and by sometimes, I mean enough for everyone to start wondering if the stoic man is part of the act.

To be fair, he randomly hugs people and ranks them here.

You, of course, were number 1.

Now, if only he didn’t use the bloody song to announce it but you forgive him.

Maybe even risks revealing his ayakashi form before deleting the message to you.

Loves making international fans and learning various languages through each post, sort of like flashcards but animated and more fun!

And with 1200 followers, he might become a polyglot like Koga.

Shizuki

Everyone bans him from creating one.

Because they know the power of his roasts is too great.

Little do they know he goes undercover.

Underground.

And under their noses.

That’s right. His rant town on... MySpace.

Unapologetically uses a good chunk of his salary from serving the House of Yuri just to get nifty themes that help with the whole burning process.

Look, there’s a reason he and Oji are friends.

This is why.

Their taste in women seems fine but we really have got to do something about their affinity towards DEAD PLACES.

To be fair, he made the whole thing drunk but that doesn’t mean he should maintain it SOBER.

He just feels that it is a waste of space if he doesn’t utilize it.

And it also becomes kind of cathartic. From the intrusive hugs to his master and Sir Gaku irking each other to no end, he needs it.

Zero followers... but only because it’s super private.

It becomes 1 the moment you jokingly create an account.

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destroyyourbinder · 5 years

Text

trans experience and social isolation

Following up on that last post I reblogged, one thing I’ve noticed is that a lot of trans people (but not all) were abnormally isolated from other people or from normal social development as children, sometimes up into their adulthood. It’s one of the most consistent strains I have seen in the experiences of both trans and detrans people, from old case studies of “transsexuals” in the 1960s up to experiences of “trans kids” now. It is something I see in the histories of trans people I meet in my day to day life as well as a striking consistency in the stories of the detransitioned and reconciling women I know. I was one of these people, and it is sometimes difficult to explain the extent to which I was socially isolated from others. I think having autism on top of my family’s abuse, my geographical isolation (I quite literally grew up surrounded by corn and soybean fields), and specific cultural environment compounded the social problems I faced. Here are some common things I’ve seen. I can’t possibly name them all. Note again that being autistic or otherwise neuroatypical in a way that makes socializing difficult greatly modifies and intensifies these experiences. I won’t cover this here because it would truly take me all night to discuss how autism can affect and interact with experiencing these different scenarios, as well as can appear to others as a justification for isolating you directly, subjecting you to isolating experiences, or neglecting your needs for stimulation, social development, education, and independent action. These are all also colored by experiencing my childhood as female and predominately knowing female trans and detransitioned people; female children and young adults are often isolated deliberately from others, cloistered in restrictive same-sex environments or prevented from achieving education or experiences in the world, in order to prepare them for being handed off in marriage to a man. While this does not happen frequently in such an explicit way in the modern United States, it’s abundantly clear to any sister who had a brother that they were not treated the same and that they were limited from experiencing the world in ways that male children do not typically experience, either “for their own safety”, because they were not seen to have the same potential, because expending resources on them would be a comparative waste, or for other reasons. Again, I can’t possibly do this topic justice in this space but it is a unique form of harm when you are subjected to isolation and it is considered a kind of good, justified by others who you seek help from or who you try to connect to. Isolation becomes devastating and complete when your remaining attempts at reaching out are grossly and crudely cut off, something that happens to more young girls than you’d know. Isolating experiences common in transgender childhood, youth, and young adulthood, sometimes into later adulthood in particularly abusive environments:

Having parents or caretakers who were abnormally controlling about who you socialize with, sometimes to the point of refusing you most or all social contact with peers or insisting on directly monitoring all socializing. There may just be so many rules and requirements or surveillance strategies for social contact that you find it too burdensome to try to socialize with others. Family or caretakers may require that you allow them to or find it normal to invade your privacy, such as reading diaries, monitoring phone contacts, or reading internet posts, e-mails, and so on. They may demand passwords to your phone, computer, or accounts, or that you leave your personal belongings unprotected. You may have little or no un-monitored social experience outside of your family and possibly certain secretive contacts, sometimes having achieved social contact with others (often exploitative or inappropriate social experiences) only through deceit or “sneaking around”. You may spend a great deal of time and energy concealing not only your socializing but your personal thoughts, beliefs, and experiences from those who monitor you; you may feel isolated even inside your own head, with nowhere to yourself.

Having bizarre schooling experiences such as being pulled out of schools multiple times, changing schools frequently, unusual homeschooling, school neglect or tolerance of truancy, being expelled or suspended in ways that led to schooling gaps. Your parents or caretakers may be unusually controlling about your school experiences, frequently calling the school to insist on interventions, inserting themselves often in your normal school life, or insisting on surveilling your activities during school by demanding others monitor you or continually demanding recorded information. Alternately, parents or caretakers may be neglectful of your schooling needs, not caring that you are missing school or insisting that other things such as making money or family obligations are more important than education.

Having parents or caretakers who are abnormally paranoid about “stranger danger”, break-ins, abduction, rape, murder, or other violence to the point that they dramatically limit your natural play and exploration of the environment. May not permit you to go outside or visit public areas, even when you are a teen or young adult. You may have moved houses, often to an isolated rural or suburban area, so your family could escape the perceived danger of cities or areas with people. The family, general community, or a parent may have been obsessed with personal defense or security or preparing for disasters. They might expose you to inappropriate information about violence and disaster that frightens you so much you have trouble participating in normal life.

Being isolated from cultural peers or from information about people “like you”. You may be a person of color in an extremely white-dominated environment or who has family that has internalized white values, insisting on rejecting your shared heritage or refusing to recognize discrimination against people of your racial or ethnic background. You may feel like you have to choose between your family or your family’s choices and bonding with others of your race or ethnicity. You may be gay with little opportunity to socialize or meet gay people, unable to access information about gay history and culture, often because this information is deliberately concealed or banned from you. You may feel like your family or community would reject or even hurt you if you are gay or are seen socializing with or accessing information about gay people. You may be disabled without knowing anyone else with your condition, possibly not told the name, treatment, or extent of your condition, with family or other environment that refuses to acknowledge the disability, only recognizing it as a pathology or personal failing, or who overcompensates by “doting” on you instead of providing caretaking that respects your agency.

Being exposed to unusual or controlling religious beliefs or participation in a coercive religious environment. You may be convinced that outsiders are morally suspect and that socializing with others outside the family or community will corrupt you. May have had an exclusively or predominately religious education full of misinformation about the greater world. The religious environment you live in may be cult-like. Family may prioritize participation in religion or religious activities above all other activities, and you may have little time unstructured by religious ritual or uninterpreted by religious doctrine. Media, entertainment, and information sources available to you may be strictly filtered, and many sources of learning may be outright banned. You may be taught to distrust learning about anything but religion or your community, and may be taught to abide by strict hierarchy rather than associate with others freely and casually.

Having extremely abusive or neglectful parents. You may have been literally held captive in the house, not permitted to leave family property, or unable to escape family. Family may be so abusive that you cannot safely invite peers to house, or so neglectful that conditions of living are shameful or dangerous. You may be in a“Stockholm Syndrome” type situation where it does not even occur to you that socializing with others is desirable or where all outsiders seem like a threat. You may be so traumatized by your living conditions or treatment by others that socializing is too difficult or threatening. You may have been in an isolated, abusive or neglectful living situation so long, sometimes into adulthood, that you have interrupted social skills, and your social motivation has been lost or distorted.

Being in institutional care or institutionally disciplined for much of childhood. You may have been sent to juvenile detention, family court, observed by social workers, or been on parole during part of your childhood. May be in and out of alternative schooling, particularly schooling provided while undergoing treatment for mental illness or while being jailed. You may have been in residential treatment for mental illness or continually hospitalized for a medical condition or mental illness. Socializing may predominately occur under conditions where your peers are people with severe life issues that may make their attempts at socializing unusual or disruptive, where peers are of highly stigmatized populations, and where socializing is continually monitored by authority figures particularly for signs of pathology or need of discipline. Institutional contact may have led you to be ostracized from your peers outside these institutions, or conditions of institutionalization may make it difficult for you to contact or stay in touch with friends and family “outside”.

Having family or others that seek to make you dependent on them or find it convenient or fulfilling that you are dependent, either through abusively removing ability to support yourself, through neglecting to teach you life skills, or through overbearing parenting that leaves you inappropriately childlike and anxious while trying to exercise independence. Parents may be “helicopter parents” and try to resolve your problems with little input from you, may be inappropriately controlling of your environment or opportunities, and may seek to arrange your life for you even if this is not common in your culture. Parents may seek to accompany you or monitor you during situations where this is extremely inappropriate or unwanted. Family or others may discourage you or prevent you from learning to drive, finishing your education, or seeking employment or employment skills, may encourage you or demand that you live with them even once you reach adulthood. Independence skills or resources may be given to you with “strings attached” that make you dependent on your family or a particular person for opportunities or make it impossible for you to escape an abusive situation. Family or others may find it convenient that you are disabled, mentally ill, or experiencing life difficulties and use their support or its withdrawal as a means of communication or means to control you. Support given by others outside the family or beyond a particular person’s domain may be rejected, belittled, or you may be discouraged or outright prevented from taking it.

Having an unusual or stigmatizing condition or disability. Family, caretakers, or doctors may insist that your condition requires secrecy or isolation from others. There may be the implication that the condition will “taint” others as if it is contagious or “horrify” others so much that it must never be revealed. Your condition might require so much medical treatment that it interferes with normal life and child development. May regularly miss school or socializing due to the condition or its treatment. The condition may be one subject to surveillance that interferes with your trust of others or regular unstructured social development. You might only socialize with a small group of other children, who either all have this condition or are a generalized group of “special education” children, isolated from other peers and perhaps typical family members like siblings and cousins. You might have been isolated from other children with same or similar conditions out of concern that you might accept your condition instead of seeking to normalize yourself at all cost.

Experiencing other frequent, strange, or stigmatizing life events or crises. You may have lost a parent to illness or violence. You may have family members who are in prison or who regularly face criminal discipline. You may have family members with high-need medical conditions or disabilities, who may be in and out of hospitalization or whose conditions require a great deal of care or resources. You may be regularly neglected or ignored because a sibling or parent is deemed to have higher priority due to a medical condition, mental illness, or experiencing life crises. Your family may live in unusual conditions (i.e. hoarding, strangers in and out, too many pets) or have an unusual belief system that is difficult to explain to others and that you may not fully realize is atypical. A parent or caretaker may regularly lose jobs, have wildly inconsistent income or ability to provide resources, have an occupation that is exhausting and disruptive to the family’s life, or may keep the source of their money secretive. You may face an unusual form of abuse or neglect that seems ridiculous or humiliating to explain to others and leads you to self-isolate. Your family may move housing frequently or unpredictably. You may have a parent or multiple parents or caretakers that date frequently or bring unknown sexual partners home all the time. Your home or community life may be so unpredictable or strange you cannot socialize normally, and you have little control over your social contacts or context.

Having a family, community, or schooling that is abnormally “cold” and prioritizes parenting or teaching methods that emphasize authority, obligation, hierarchy, educational development, discipline or other values over loving connection to others. Your family does not touch each other or uses touch to punish or threaten rather than show care. Touch or connection to others is belittled. Sexuality is considered dirty, dangerous, or distracting rather than a normal part of human life. You do not observe parents or others showing warmth to each other, but may observe fighting, rejection, or violence instead. You may observe or be encouraged to develop coldness to those outside the family or community and other beings like animals; coldness may be modeled as essential to certain social roles like working or marriage. Your environment may inconsistently or unpredictably demand warmth and coldness and demands for warmth may occur primarily during abusive scenarios. You may become so confused about appropriate social boundaries that you act out or shut down, alienating yourself from peers or becoming subject to punishment.

Experiencing your sexual development being ignored or hyper-monitored. Parents may comment inappropriately on your development during puberty or neglect giving appropriate sexual education at all. You may undergo puberty atypically early or late or there may be medical issues with your sexual development, making you and your body a subject of discussion among your family, peers, and doctors. Your sexual development might be considered dirty or inappropriate even if it is discussed. Your family or other environments may vacillate between condemning you and distinctly ignoring your sexual development. Family may ban you from opportunities to date or socialize with the intent to form and explore romantic connections, you may have dating opportunities inappropriately surveilled and monitored or arranged with no personal choice, or be completely left with no appropriate social feedback on safe and healthy dating. You may have few social connections outside of romantic or sexual partners, who may be much older, abusive, or otherwise wildly inappropriate; parents or other adults may endorse this behavior or fail to intervene despite knowing. You may be inappropriately exposed to pornography or adult sexuality through sexual coercion or violence or because your few social contacts are in sexualized online environments or abusive/exploitative people. You may be so traumatized by sexual abuse that you cannot socialize without great difficulty or the way you perceive social expectations are distorted.

Seeking social connections exclusively or predominately in age-inappropriate groups, online social groups, or subcultures where norms of social connection are distorted. You may tend to find social connection within groups of people with severe mental health issues, drug addiction, or life instability. Norms of online or peer subcultural groups you participate in may permit or encourage antisocial behavior such as interpersonal violence, self-harm, drug use, narcissistic behavior, abusive or offensive behavior, escalation of conflict for entertainment, etc. Exploitation and abuse are common in your social circle, may be lauded as model behavior, or others may refuse to name this behavior as harmful. You may be manipulated or extorted into harmful behavior towards self or peers that benefits powerful people in the group, or may regularly witness this behavior with no opportunity to intervene or speak up. Your environment may be extremely controlling or even cult-like, and you may lose perspective on the outside world, believing that norms of social behavior common to the group are normal or correct. Group might socially punish pro-social behavior, independent thought, critical thinking, or socializing outside of the group, leaving you isolated and dependent on the group.

#writings

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canardroublard · 5 years

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TMFU, Gaby’s fashion, and some feminist film analysis

Back when I slapped together a reblog post about the men’s fashion in The Man From UNCLE in between physio appointments, which somehow got like way more notes than I ever really expected or even wanted, I didn’t address the fashion of the lead female character, Gaby. It was outside the scope of the OP, and I didn’t feel like I had anything new or interesting to say about Gaby’s fashion, or lack thereof.

(My beta says those earrings are the ugliest thing ever. I disagree. It’s a wonder we’re still friends)

Anyways, we see only one brief scene of Gaby in her own street clothes, and a slightly longer sequence of her in her work clothes. The rest of the film, she is wearing clothes chosen for her by Illya. Saying “we just don’t have enough info” is a perfectly reasonable approach to this. So this was the other reason I had no intention of making this post.

But then people started getting interested. Someone reblogged commenting about Gaby’s fashion, and I discovered that I have very strong opinions about something I’d previously claimed was unknowable, and it made me wonder what was going on in my brain.

Then I talked to some other TMFU friends who all seemed interested in what I assumed was common knowledge/nothing unique. So, they may have been feigning interest out of politeness, but it activated the art history side of my brain, and here we are now!

The boring stuff but please read this

I am not attempting to tell anyone how to interpret this film. I am not even trying to change people’s minds or persuade them to my thinking. All I am doing is sharing my thought process. I wasn’t even going to do this for Gaby until people asked. To this end, please don’t attempt to argue with me about this. I don’t want to argue. I won’t respond to it. If you disagree, then please, just move along.

And I’m going to remind people that I love TMFU. I love this movie so much it hurts. Why am I putting this reminder here? Because I am about to apply some critical analysis to it, and in places this will be cynical, and it will not always look kindly on the film. If you just want to exist in a happy “I love TMFU!” bubble and not hear anything less than 100% positive about the film (which is a totally valid choice, I don’t fault anyone for that), then don’t read. But don’t yell at me for being mean or criticizing the film, because I warned you.

Tldr; or, if I were still being graded for this stuff here’s my thesis statement

When analysing Gaby’s fashion, there exist considerations which don’t apply to the male characters. Namely, she is a woman and the male gaze is a thing. So I am very, very wary about taking at face value any expressions of traditional femininity in the choices made for her outfits, hair, makeup, etc. Therefore, when considering her character, I find it much more useful and informative to give more weight to the aspects of her appearance which do not connote traditional femininity, rather than those that do.

For readers who have studied enough media analysis to follow my thought based on that alone, there’s the thesis statement, y’all can go home (or at least skip to the end where I come to a conclusion). If you’re lost, then read on.

(mobile readers, the cut here might not work, and if so I apologize for what is going to be a very long post. Tumblr’s “keep reading” functionality is inconsistent at best, but I tried)

Context is for kings essential for analysing media in a meaningful way

(Or, some brief background. Stick with me here, we’ll get to the good stuff soon)

So, art doesn’t exist in a vacuum. Attempting to analyze any artwork (in this case a film) while disregarding the culture it was created in and the intentions of the creator is...not going to get you very far. Asking “what is art” is a question that quite frankly exhausts me at this point (looking at you, Duchamp) but the closest I’ve ever come to an answer is that the only thing that separates art from everything else is intent. And intention only exists within cultural context. So yes, intent and context don’t just matter peripherally, they are one of the biggest considerations one needs to make when analyzing works of art. The creator in this case being Guy Ritchie et al, the culture being British/American Popular Cinema in The Year of Somebody’s Lord Two-Thousand-And-Fifteen.

Everyone views and creates (if applicable) art through their own distorted, murky, imperfect lens of personal experience. And one of the most persistent Things in western art is that cishet men create art based on their experience of Being A Dude. This is crucial, because this lens of cishet male perspective literally underpins almost all of western culture including popular culture. And thanks to feminist film theorist Laura Mulvey, we have a name for this.

The male gaze and you

I’m going to quote Wikipedia here, because honestly this intro sentence sums things up rather neatly (with one exception which I will address momentarily).

In feminist theory, the male gaze is the act of depicting women and the world, in the visual arts and literature, from a masculine, heterosexual perspective that presents and represents women as sexual objects for the pleasure of the male viewer.

What does that all mean? That the Viewer and the Artist are both cishet men by default, and any women are Subjects of art. Women are viewed, never viewers. Men take action, women are subjected to actions. Furthermore, women are supposed to be pleasurable to view. By men. Since the Viewer is male by default.

But I would disagree that the pleasure is inherently based on women being sexual objects. That’s honestly a really damn limited read on the whole theory, and it’s one that Wikipedia itself contradicts later in the article. More broadly, cis men also derive other forms of pleasure from the presentation and viewing of female bodies, including aesthetic pleasure (the enjoyment of looking at beautiful things).

The theory of the male gaze is not without limits. As originally theorized, afaik it’s not particularly intersectional. It doesn’t really address queer perspectives or perspectives of POC. However, these issues are something I just can’t address here, unfortunately. And when looking at popular media, I still find the concept of the male gaze, imperfect as it may be, is a helpful means of analysis, so it’s worth having in your toolbox.

Circling back, the easiest way to sum up the male gaze, if you’re still not super clear on what it is, is with a demonstration.

Ever seen a shot like this in a movie?

And did you immediately roll your eyes? Feel gross? Congrats, you have just perceived and reacted to the male gaze.

Now we actually get back to TMFU

But the male gaze also shows up in many more subtle, insidious ways than fanservice-y boob shots. For this post, let’s focus on the following considerations, which might help everyone follow my thought process more clearly.

Gaby is a woman

She functions as the love interest of Illya in the script (I am not talking from a shipping perspective. What you ship does not matter for this discussion. I am talking about the narrative function of Gaby in the script as written. Put on your “cishet man” goggles for a moment)

Illya is a man who is attracted to women, specifically Gaby (again, I don’t care if your shipping conflicts with this. I am analyzing the film based on a literal reading of it as if I were a cishet man. Why? Because that’s who made the film. That’s who it’s “for”. I am all for queer readings of film--hell, I ship OT3, I myself have chosen a queer reading for how I interact with it, but I’m not critiquing people’s readings, I’m critiquing the film itself and to do that I have to critique its intentions and cultural context.)

Cishet men are traditionally only allowed to be attracted to women who are conventionally attractive. If they were to be attracted to anyone else it would destroy their fragile senses of self and their heads would explode or something. At least I assume that’s what must happen, based on how terrified they are of it.

Therefore, Gaby must be conventionally attractive, because it is literally required of her or otherwise the whole underpinning of western straight malehood crumbles and then where would we get such a pure, vast source of unadulterated toxic masculinity?

(Yes, this is a very cynical read on things. I’ve studied, like, three centuries worth of this bullshit. I’m tired. Let me be cynical.)

Or, to force myself to be less cynical, Gaby has to be pretty because...nope, this is still going to turn out just as cynical.

But what I will say in favour of this movie is that it gives Gaby and Victoria both a lot of agency and general awesomeness, which is quite unusual in this sort of big-budget action film, and it’s one of the big reasons I love it. I’m not saying that the entire film is sexist. On the contrary, there’s a ton of stuff to celebrate about how it portrays its female characters. But these aspects don’t change the cultural context, and we still have to consider the impacts of the male gaze.

Anyways, point being is that as filtered through the male gaze, Gaby is never given the option to, say, wear no makeup (or the appearance of such, as the guys are afforded, this being cinema where “no makeup” still means makeup) because that would look “ugly”. Instead she needs to have a “baseline of pretty” which is way higher than reality because she is not a real human being with her own agency, she is a character created by a cis male writer/director team in a film directed by a cis man in a genre that caters to cishet men.

Gaby doesn’t exist in a vacuum. She exists battling centuries and centuries worth of sexist convention.

Now then, remembering all of that, let’s actually look at her. There are woefully few good pictures so I’m going to have to piece things together a little. Starting with the coveralls.

This is a great look, I love it. And I’m going to give Ritchie a lot of credit here because it would’ve been easy to go for a “Michelle Rodriguez in F&F sexy mechanic lady” look. In case I need to provide a visual:

(Repeat above gif about rolling my eyes)

Now, to be clear, I am not making any judgement about the way any real-life women dress. I’m sure there’s plenty of female mechanics who have their hair down and wear tank tops while working. That doesn’t bother me. I don’t care if real life mechanics choose to do their jobs in a string bikini. Or in cosplay of the bee from Bee Movie. I don’t care (and quite frankly it’s none of my business) because they are real people who can make their own decisions. But what I am talking about here is a fictional character who does not have her own agency. I am critiquing how male creators choose to dress their female characters.

So I personally choose to read much more into the unpretty aspects of Gaby’s outfit, because these are not the “obvious” or “easy” things. Obvious and easy are “of course she wears makeup” and “of course her hair looks good” and “of course she doesn’t look like a swamp witch who bathes in mud and spends her days cursing passing men”. Those things don’t challenge or disrupt the assumption that women must look attractive for male consumption.

Gaby’s introduction to us is with her in a pair of grease-stained, baggy coveralls, not wearing any obvious makeup (again, this is cinema, so she is wearing makeup. For cinema the goal posts around “wearing makeup” always need to be moved from where they’d be irl). There’s very little here that screams ‘pretty’. And that is fascinating to me.

I don’t know how deeply Ritchie thought this through when giving final approval to the costume, hair and makeup. But unpretty is not the default here. It’s a choice

And look at this. This is the stance and dress sense (and socks!) of a woman who does not give a damn about looking good for the male gaze, whether the in-movie gaze of Napoleon, or the implied gaze of the viewer and creator. It’s not ‘pretty’. And this is the only time in the film we see Gaby in her own everyday clothes, as she only escapes East Berlin with the literal clothes on her back.

So how do I think Gaby dresses? I think that for the most part she dresses....like this. Practical. Comfortable. With a few simple touches of things she likes/finds pretty, perhaps, but not with a specific interest in being pretty. She dresses for herself, not for others. And if that isn’t something to aspire to, I don’t know what is.

#gaby teller #tmfu #the man from uncle #meta #costume design #male gaze #fashion #thank you to michael bay for providing me with such a good example of the male gaze

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