#internet was also an archive and it's becoming less and less a time machine. it's so fragile and the fire in this Alexandria library

[justaholeinmysoul]

I hate that people are trying to cancel a celebrity or a famous person every day for clout and easy money online. I hate that children learn sooner and sooner to hate blindly bc someone said so, because everyone does that, because if you don't do it you're ostracised. I hate that when the famous person is 'a bad personTM because eatp*77y on tiktok said that no proofs no second opinion' hate and bullying is excused. You are never a bad person for partaking in mobbing and suicide bait because the bad person deserved it. I hate that everything is so performative and that when someone shows ugly symptoms of any distress or addiction or illness or disability suddenly it's OK to destroy them. I hate what unregulated use of social media did to Internet and to us.

[ffc1cb]

new art blog

the short version:

1. i made a new art blog: @cbge;

2. @ffc1cb will stay up as an archive.

the long version:

hi everyone. this announcement is somewhat late, since the blog in question has been up for a few months now, and i’ve already started posting art on it. the reason it took me so long to “reveal” it is because i’ve been trying to figure out whether a new blog is something i actually want, or if it's just me throwing darts at a board, trying to make myself feel better somehow.

i don’t know when precisely it all started, but ever since sometime last year i’ve been going through a hard time, both emotionally and creatively. i’m not sure whether being depressed is what made art harder, or art becoming harder is what made me depressed (a bit of both, i think), but lately, drawing has been a struggle. 

i’ve found myself having less and less energy for art, and this lack of energy resulted in poorer quality of drawings, which resulted in me feeling like i’m getting worse at it, despite my efforts. i knew i could make good art, art that i’m proud of - i’ve done so countless times before, - but somehow it felt like i just couldn’t anymore, like my hands forgot how to. nothing looked right. 

i’ve been trying to experiment. i’ve learned some new things, tried this and that - it was enlightening, to say the least, and even though i kind of liked how it looked, it made me feel a sense of displacement. i was at odds with myself, my art, and how i felt about it, when previously i was always in sync. i was making art, yes, and it looked nice, but it felt like it wasn’t mine.

i suppose part of it was also the growing lack of engagement, and i don’t mean likes and reblogs - i never particularly cared about those. they are all just numbers to me; dry and impersonal. what i’m talking about is actual, human interactions: personal thoughts in tags, asks, replies, etc. a conversation. 

i don’t mean to sound “old” or anything, but i remember when talking to artists online was more commonplace. my wife tells me it’s because the internet culture has changed over the years, that people have become more reclusive, less willing to be open with their thoughts, and she's probably right, but in my slump i find it hard to believe. somehow it feels like it’s my fault for being less “engaging”, for seeming unapproachable or perhaps intimidating. maybe it’s “just a skill issue”, maybe it’s because i have stopped churning out fanart for popular fandoms, maybe it’s because i refuse to torture myself emotionally by having an art account on twitter (i can’t fucking stand the place anymore; i still post nsfw art there, but only because it’s literally one of the only places on the internet that allows you to do so. i miss when you could post female presenting tits on tumblr).

i have always, ever since i started posting art on the internet back in 2012, done it for human connection. i wanted to talk to people, and have people talk to me. i wanted to inspire people with my art, and i wanted to bring them comfort. i wanted to elicit an emotional response, and have people tell me about it. it was one of the main reasons i drew in the first place; having lost that, i’ve been struggling to stay passionate about making art.

i miss being a small artist on the internet during the 2010s. i remember when i could make a post going, “hey everyone, how are you all doing today?” and it would not seem weird to people in the slightest. it is just me? does anyone else feel that way? am i too deep in my own head? the internet feels so unwelcoming nowadays, especially to artists. we are all just content machines; people scroll by our stuff, or maybe look at it for half a second and leave a like before scrolling away. i know it’s unfair to demand people’s attention, especially now when our lives are already so overwhelmed by everything - no one has the energy to pay closer attention; i myself am not immune to mindless scrolling. but it feels bad. i wish we were all sincere and enthusiastic again.

anyway (sorry for rambling. i hope i haven’t bored you to death), you might want to say, okay, but how is making a new art blog on a “dying” social platform going to help with any of that? the truth is, i don’t know. i just felt like i needed a change. 

i’ve been running this blog since 2016 (that’s almost 8 full years!). i feel incredibly attached to it, but at the same time, i feel it weighing me down. 

there are people who followed me years ago for one specific thing, still expecting me to post about said thing (i still find it mindboggling that some people follow artists for a specific fandom only, but that is a whole other matter for a whole other post that i will never write). a third, if not half, of my following are probably dead blogs. and with my current struggle with trying to regain the joy i once felt for making art, looking back at all the art i’ve done over the years makes me feel tired. i still love it all; it’s all very dear to me. i’m proud of it; looking at it makes me mourn my younger and more passionate self.

so i’ve decided to make a new blog, where i will let myself post whatever i want, in whatever stage of donness i feel like. maybe it will help me, somehow. maybe it won’t. but if you care about my art, if you want to keep following me on my artistic journey, i welcome you to join me there. similarly, feel free not to - no hard feelings.

thank you everyone for your support over the years; it matters a lot to me. i’m not planning to delete or private this blog; it will stay up, and i will still be reachable on here. i will still answer asks, if there will be any. i’m just not planning to post any art here anymore. this is it for my dear old friend ffc1cb.

i can be found in other places:

@cbge, as mentioned earlier,

@k0nstanta, an art blog dedicated solely to my and my wife's ocs,

@inquisimail, a dragon age ask blog that has become my dragon age sideblog in general,

and multiple other blogs, none of which are art related, but feel free to ask, if you’re curious.

thank you very much for reading all of this. i hope you have a wonderful day.

[boatboysrowout]

hi im sharing your third life burger king au with the masses today. any trivia you want to share about it

- fun fact about me, i know next to nothing about third life. everything i know i learned against my will bc my roommate keeps hosting third life watch parties. consequently, i kept asking them about stupid shit that happened during third life for this au and this is how i learned ren was canonically naked during the execution.

- anyway moving onto in universe fun facts ren wakes up at the hospital with no memory of anything past crowning himself the burger king, so martyn tells him that they defeated the mcdonald’s in a glorious battle where martyn shielded ren with his own body and single handedly defeated grian and scar in hand to hand combat and also burnt down the white castle in his honor

- ren believes every word he says whole heartedly despite the seemingly permanent tear tracks down martyn’s face and the complete lack of any sort of physical evidence

- meanwhile scar wakes up alone and grian does not contact him for the rest of the summer. scar could not care less and spends the rest of his summer in the burn unit pitching his new definitely-not-an-mlm to bdubs and joel because they cannot physically leave. bdubs has a great time. joel pays him three hundred dollars to leave and never come back.

- grian meanwhile has flown back to england and spends the rest of the summer attached to mumbo’s side trying to replace his newly awakened gay feelings for his manager with deranged gay feelings for mumbo. it works a little bit.

- skizz feels awful about doxxing jimmy and exposing his google+ influencer career so to make up for it he spends the rest of the summer completely wiping jimmy’s presence from the internet. this works so well that jimmy and scott have to spend the rest of their summer trying to convince their university that jimmy does in fact exist and attend their school bc skizz also wiped him from the university’s database.

- tango had a great summer. he managed to hack the skee ball machine so he gets unlimited plays for a quarter and spends the entire summer becoming a pinball wizard. impulse joins him when he recovers from the stress of trying to be a patron to both the burger king and mcdonald’s and being consequently blackmailed by both of them.

- bigb had a very peaceful summer in the library. he wouldn’t say he spent the entire summer hiding from his friends per say, but he did spend what some would call an unnecessary amount of time in the archives in the basement.

- cleo and etho are also mysteriously absent the rest of the summer, and if anyone asks no they were not in the vicinity the white castle at 5:37 on June 7th stop asking questions if you value your life.

tell the masses i said hi

(og link here!)

[firespirited]

300 pages into the Dune re-read (Internet archive. Other options surprisingly costly or too far away)

Movie vs book notes under the cut

The hunter seeker was only in the film to show Paul's abilities, in the book it's part 1 of a 2 part plot to have Jessica distrust Thwufir and vice versa (a courrier with a fake self destructing msg that contains the fragment "duke betrayed by his beloved") and the duke be be distressed at having to pretend he distrusts Jessica. House H wants them distracted. It shows more cunning, a lot more of the chess type thinking involved in ruling and notably in the film the baron has promised not to murder Paul (to their credit: they do put that convo later so it takes effect later).

Piter was not a tweaker like I remembered (Brad Dourif's take made an impression) but leers and grins when everyone is somber and engages in constant inappropriate banter with the Baron (anyone present thinks he's going to get himself killed). He's the one to kill Yueh and basically gets turned on by it.

Movie adaptation to make the Baron less verbose and prompt to action does cut down on an awful lot of monologuing to get straight to the point but misses how he uses language to assess weaknesses and manipulate: Herbert wanted to make a point about 'the voice' as a weapon as used by BG but also by the baron and leto in manipulation and propaganda.

The lack of machinations within machinations do flatten both Leto and the Baron to be less layered in their strategies.

The party establishes that colonisation isn't just about that one resource like oil but the industries that support it and profit too: from water salesmen to brothels for workers to knockoff stillsuits for the workers. Local resources are all taken over and run by colonizers who curry favour with the current house in power.

The party is also where we see the duke practically drunk on anger and his own callousness. We also get to see Paul and Jessica practice people reading and careful questioning.

Paul realises he's a Harkonnen in that first night in the tent, tells his mother and says the "we'll be Harkonnens to survive" thing. That revelation leads to a sort of resignation to scheming whatever the cost like it's in their blood so it is what it is.

I feel this has a very different tone to the movie where we see Jessica decide to use the fremen before she knows she's H and Paul decides to reject all blood fate until he knows his lineage at the water of life ceremony.

Paul sees two paths in the tent: one where he says hello grandfather to the baron and one of bloody jihad under the atreides banner. In the film we got hello grandfather *and* an attack on the landsraad warships by the fanatics. Villeneuve may be going for a third new path. As I said before I'm interested whether it's a new path where for example he becomes worm god or the BG implanted religion and the inate religiosity and violence of this universe does not allow them to see other paths.

I've always felt that Paul should have at least considered subverting the prophecies and his blood rights as a fuck you to being bred and trained for a purpose. Lisan al gaib means voice from the outer world, there's no reason he can't be a voice by being ambassador for the Fremen as an entity or house of their own. At this point he's still in shock but by the time he's spent time with the fremen, there's no reason he shouldn't consider that a guild/bene/house of its own especially given the extreme value of spice to this universe. I wanted the fact that royal ruling, submission to higher powers is so ingrained in him (and his lineage) that he rejects that possibility should be part of the tragedy of Paul (it is in the revelations of Leto2-worm who plans to break and breed out this trait of humanity)

Marketing Jessica as giving her more warrior priestess moments was unnecessary, she's this badass in the og text.

Bardem was robbed of Stilgar's colourful insults lol.

[legendszine]

CLEX ZINE LAUNCH DAY!!!!

LEGENDS: https://legendszine.com/

(This is a digital zine with a FREE downloadable PDF version!)

On October 16th, 2001 the pilot episode of Smallville aired on the WB television network. WB had just lost its flagship show Buffy the Vampire Slayer to the higher-bidding rival UPN network, and the question loomed– could the WB survive without its most prized possession? Would Tuesday nights ever be the same?

As soon as Smallville aired to an audience of 8.4 million viewers– a network record– WB executives knew they had a hit, and scrambled to order what would eventually become a 10-year long series, cementing itself into television history.

From the outset, Smallville was not your typical “superhero show.” In addition to the show’s grounded philosophy (“No flights, no tights!”) Smallville filled in the high-school years of a young Clark Kent, but it also completely changed the way fans viewed Superman’s greatest enemy�� Lex Luthor. Before Michael Rosenbaum’s stunning turn as Lex, Superman fans generally viewed Lex as an entertaining yet ultimately morally and philosophically shallow villain. Smallville’s Lex took a black and white comic book landscape and smeared it with a thousand shades of gray. Lex Luthor was no longer simply a villain; he was a young, ambitious loner caught in the shadow and nefarious machinations of his father; in need of a true friend, and as alienated as the young Kal-El. Despite his tragic destiny, viewers in the first season of Smallville weren’t rooting against this young villain; they were rooting for him. Oftentimes more than they were rooting for the show’s hero, Clark Kent.

That more nuanced writing dynamic between Lex and Clark also immediately spawned a thousand fic– and one epic character ship! Clex, or Clark/Lex! For many viewers, the soppy, mooning stares Clark sent Lana Lang’s way were far less intriguing than the strange, hypnotic connection stirring between Clark and Lex. Television’s most epic “meet violent” (“meet cute” car crash style) cemented what would become the fandom’s most popular ship, and result in the creation of thousands upon thousands of fanworks.

Countless Clex works were written, including now-legendary authors including (but not limited to): @astolat, @rivkat , @seperis, P.L. Nunn, Thamiris, Liviapenn , @lanninglurksnomore, @seepunkrun , Te, Henry Jones Jr., and danceswithgary. 

The relationship between Clark Kent and Lex Luthor has been explored in other universes (comic books, films, other television shows) but never as viscerally or as nuanced as in Smallville.Twenty-one years later Clex fanfiction is still being published, and Clex fanart is still being created and shared. This Zine is a love letter to that vivacious fandom, and hopefully a bit of a bugle call– that “Yes! Clex is still being written and illustrated! See us roar!” 

So. We hope you enjoy the contributions enclosed in this Zine. The moderators would like to thank first and foremost the hard-working fanwriters and fanartists that gave their time, talent, and treasure to make this Zine come together. 

We would also like to thank @chase2452 for his initial efforts to set up the 2021 Clex Zine, which became the 2022 LEGENDS Zine; Archive of Our Own for serving as a home and refuge for Clex fanfiction, especially the efforts of the Open Doors team to port the Smallville Slash Archive over to Ao3 in 2012. 

And we would like to thank any readers and fanart appreciators who have continued to comment, kudos, and share past and current Clex fanfiction and fanart around the internet. 

Thank you, you are the stuff of LEGENDS! 

museaway and Storyshark2005

[theriu]

I posted 6,818 times in 2022

That's 2,560 more posts than 2021!

191 posts created (3%)

6,627 posts reblogged (97%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@everythingfox

@taleweaver-ramblings

@doodlee-a

@o-lei-o-lai-o-lord

@ionlywantyougone

I tagged 1,749 of my posts in 2022

#humor - 543 posts

#rebagel'd - 240 posts

#video - 164 posts

#pets - 109 posts

#cats - 99 posts

#river rambles - 91 posts

#cool art - 78 posts

#brb laughing - 73 posts

#dracula daily - 62 posts

#nice - 56 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#it’s like that thing where you get off the computer internet and then check your phone internet in case the small internet has something ne

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Helping Humans Is Complicated

"I don't understand. We showed the new planet our wellness machines and offered to modify them for humans, but their governments don't seem interested. They keep insisting their technology is better despite the data and demanding weapons technology we don't have."

"Oh yeah, I've heard about this. It's like a mix of species pride and a weird distrust of freely offered new things."

"Well, what do we do? Just leave the technology with them and hope for the best?"

"Nope. Take it away."

"...I'm sorry?"

"Take it away from them. Say they can't have it. Tell them it's too valuable to share."

"But surely if they don't care now, they won't care then."

"Oh, they definitely will. This species has invented entire agencies dedicated to stealing information other human groups try to keep secret. They can't stand not being ALLOWED to have something."

"Even if they didn't want it in the first place? How does that make sense?"

"Look, I don't know, but I found an example of it in the Earth History and Legends archive. Supposedly, peasants didn't like the taste of a healthy tuber this human king wanted to introduce, so he just told everyone they couldn't have the tubers, planted them, and posted really lax guards around the garden. Peasants 'stole' the tubers, and boom: nutritious potatoes introduced. "

"That's...nonsensical. I'm not sure we should give them anything if they're going to be that way about it."

"All I'm saying is that whether you take away the tech to trick them or take it away because you don't think they deserve it, humans are determined little plurski, and they WILL steal it. Should be interesting to see how they get past our firewalls."

"Do we even want relations with this kind of group?"

"Oh yeah, they can be super tough and resourceful, on the whole. Plus their coffee is FANTASTIC."

1,196 notes - Posted October 10, 2022

#4

I love posts about human customs being incomprehensible to aliens or humans having all these strange but helpful instincts, but you know what would also be funny? Aliens super relating to some of humanity’s less admirable qualities.

- Woman starts shrieking hysterically at alien encounter, aliens are pleased that someone there properly respects the momentousness of this potentially terrifying occasion.

- Obsessive collector becomes liason to aliens with dragon-like hoarding culture.

- Human crying over a papercut is first human that soft jellyfish aliens feel they can relate to.

- Massive introvert (this is not a bad human quality it’s just rarer to see in Humans As Space Orcs scenarios) who likes spending time alone in a small room is highly desirable as coworker for extremely social race that get anxious in enclosed spaces, lets them work on other things in more open areas.

- Human with poor hygeine learns aliens find the smell of sweat delightful.

- Hivemind aliens mistaking an angry mob for another hivemind, successfully open relations with mob leader.

1,955 notes - Posted August 15, 2022

#3

Yes yes everyone’s talking (or not) about Bruno and other plot twists in Encanto, but I want to explore the REALLY GROUNDBREAKING points of Encanto that you never expect in a Disney movie:

Heroine has two LOVING, ALIVE parents who are STILL MARRIED.

Both main married couples on-screen have been faithfully married (and NOT died) for at least 20 years.

The husbands are both LOVING and AFFECTIONATE to their kids and wives. (Yes I WILL go on about healthy marriages and families portrayed in media and you CANT STOP ME)

The main character’s dad is kinda goofy but still shown to be wise and capable when it matters.

A boy got the requisite animal companion(s) instead of the main girl.

The main girl has NO potential love interests ANYWHERE.

EVIL IS NOT LIME, I REPEAT, EVIL IS NOT LIME!!!!

5,373 notes - Posted January 20, 2022

#2

Using my prodigious powers of deep literary analysis and cultural correlation, I believe I can and have predicted the next scene for @buggachat​​ ‘s Miraculous Ladybug Bakery Enemies AU. Please consider my carefully and exhaustively rendered hypothesis:

See the full post

5,977 notes - Posted August 24, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

It has just occurred to me that of all the characters in Winnie the Pooh, the only ones that lack both fingerless stuffing hands and faint seam lines (the indications that someone is a stuffed animal) are Rabbit and Owl. Which carries the possible implication that Rabbit and Owl are just a normal rabbit and owl living with a bunch of sentient stuffed animals.

And somehow this makes Rabbit’s constant consternation with all of his neighbors even funnier to me.

53,119 notes - Posted May 13, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[destielficarchive]

Hi, so just curious do we have an update on the deathbanjo situation? If you’re making a post about this anyhow you can ignore this - and thank you for your work btw! Really appreciate it!

Hey anon...I see you read my tags... *sweat drop*...yes, I got an ask overnight related to it, and I've done some independent research on what the ask says, and I've been waffling on what exactly to say and how to handle it, and I even DMed another archivist friend to get their opinion and was thinking I wouldn't say anything publicly until I'd had a chance to talk over the facets of it, but I haven't heard back, and you've messaged me, and...

When someone relatively unknown deletes, I generally don't have too many ethical concerns to wrestle with, and whether they say "yes, distribute" or "no, don't distribute" or never say anything at all, it's usually basically a net-neutral for me, as I'm unlikely to ever get more than a handful of requests for their works.

That is not the situation with deathbanjo. Their work is extremely popular and deservingly beloved, and the deletion wasn't announced or forecast, and a lot of readers are upset, and since neither deathbanjo nor anyone they know has said anything publicly on Tumblr, and I have said something, I'm likely to become the de facto face for whatever gets announced, and I'll have to deal with the...everything...that that produces.

Which isn't to say I'd ever distribute when asked not to, because I won't, but it is to say that it raises questions such as, "do I suggest other ways that people can access the work publicly and legally (specifically: do I link to the Wayback machine?)" and "do I go all activist and try to tamp down on other people distributing them, as I know of at least one person who has already offered to do, author preferences be damned?" Things like this are what keep me up at night, wondering what the best way to handle things is, supporting and respecting authors while also aiding readers.

So, all that said, here's what I know:

A person who says they are a friend of deathbanjo sent me an ask indicating that deathbanjo DOES NOT want the works distributed. I'm usually a pretty trusting person, but I'll own having a random stranger I've never heard of pop into my notes with something like this makes me a little leery; for a less popular author/less fraught situation, I wouldn't even worry about it - the odds that it'd matter much one way or the other would be low enough that it'd be far easier for me to just take them at their word and not distribute. However, given how wide-spread desire for these fics are, that's not what will happen this time. Many, many people want them - I've already turned down multiple requests from people who apparently have the reading comprehension level of the average half-rotted forest log. So, I spent some time investigating. Tumblr search is utterly broken on the person's blog, but I know a fair few tools for bypassing Tumblr's standard bullshit, and while I didn't find much evidence one way or the other, I found just enough to tilt me from "this ask kinda looks like BS" to "this ask is most likely legit."

I am not going to publish the ask, since I don't want to "out" the person who sent it - it wasn't on anon, but the text of it is simple, straightforward, and to the point:

Hi, I'm a friend of deathbanjo. They do NOT want their fics distributed. Thank you for understanding.

Based on the ask I received and my own research, the Destiel Fic Archive and I, it's owner (@unforth) WILL NOT be distributing deathbanjo's works.

On the secondary question of, "will I facilitate other people finding them?" Well...the Wayback Machine, also known as the Internet Archive, is a public, legal, well-known website that I've personally been using for literally 20+ years. All it does is archive websites that are fed to it, and it's archived over 632 billion sites (I first looked into it in the early oughts when Tripod deleted and I wanted to find my personal anime page...it was there...presumably still is...), including many deleted AO3 stories. When a story is deleted, it's one of the first places I personally go to try to find it, and even when I can't get the work it can often help me find titles, identify what's missing, and give me leads for getting more information. Anyone can access the Wayback Machine, without needing a log in. All you need is the link to the original work, and there are multiple ways to track those links down. Using all the strategies I personally know, I've just checked, and it looks like four of the eight works are on Wayback in their entirety. Some of the others might be - I didn't try every trick in my book, and I'm not going to, cause, well...I don't need to. That's not my point right now anyway.

No, I won't link the four here.

No, I won't (at least not right now, it's been on my to do list for a while) write up a tutorial on how to track down the necessary information and look things up on Wayback and strategies for working around the weird issues that can arise while trying to access AO3 through it.

But, if anyone reading this who loved deathbanjo's works is prepared to do the leg work, anyone who knows how or is willing to futz around and figure it out can access those four works...you do you, ya know?

Sharing that it's possible to access them is about as far as I'm prepared to stretch my personal ethics to "get around" deathbanjo's shared preference, and even that doesn't feel as "appropriate" as I'm really comfortable with, but I know a lot of people are really upset about this, and since Wayback is a known, and excellent, resource...well, now ya know, and what you or anyone does with that information is up to you.

I'm sorry that this is the outcome. It's not the one I would have wanted, but my running this project isn't about what I personally want. I just try to preserve and, when allowed, distribute, and I'll not break my word on not distributing even when I know denying access is gonna break a fuckton of hearts.

Take this as a lesson: download the stories you love, guys, cause you never know what will happen. They literally can be gone tomorrow, and you may get zero notice, so if it's something that you know you want to reread 'til the end of your days, make sure you grab a back up while you can.

It's a sad fandom day, but the stories will live in our hearts.

Lastly, while I know my saying this isn't worth much...

I can only prevent myself distributing, but I beg everyone reading this to respect deathbanjo's preferences. Fanauthors do so, so much for readers, and if they want their stories gone, that's up to them. If you have copies, please, please don't share the stories around when they've asked for them not to be. Be considerate. Think how you'd feel, in their position. Honor their wishes. Mourn, but be a good fandom citizen.

It's a huge collective loss for the Destiel fandom, but it's not the first time, and it won't be the last, and it'll be okay. Remember that, in the end, deathbanjo is just another one of us, another fan who sat at their computer and put fingers to keyboard. If you really love their work you can best show that love by respecting them and treating them like a human with autonomy who has made a choice.

Please don't contact me and ask me to make an exception for you. I won't, and I'll get annoyed at the request. I'm not going to share, so please don't waste both your time and mine.

[Image ID: a looping animated gif from an episode of Supernatural, showing actress Felicia Day playing the role of Charlie Bradbury. She's holding up one hand in a Vulcan salute, and the subtitle reads, "Peace out bitches." /End ID]

[potteresque-ire]

hello, ily metas! thank you for taking the time for them. i hope you dont mind an ask with two follow up questions to your metas i'm curious about: 1) has mxtx rly been sentenced? i have seen others also share this news but other fans have quickly dismissed and gotten pissed at these reports for being fake news that are bad for mxtx, and as fearmongering. 2) for those who want to support yizhan but not the ccp, do you have advice how to navigate fan support and interaction with their media?

Hello! I apologise for the late reply!  You’ve brought up some interesting points, so please forgive me for responding with an essay.

First, about MXTX — This is a follow-up to this post.

Unfortunately, this is all we got—all everyone has got about MXTX’s current situation: on 2020/11/10, she was sentenced in Hangzhou Shang Cheng District’s People’s Court (杭州市上城區人民法院). No details were given on her verdict, due to “人民法院認為不宜在互聯網公布的其它情形”  (“The People’s Court decided it inappropriate to announce further details on the internet”). Here’s a link with the screenshot that showed all the information released about the case that day.

There are enough copies of similar screenshots to this one online, with the differences dependent on where the publisher pulled the information from the same website: 中國裁判文書網, an online archive of verdicts run by China Supreme People’s Court. There’re few reasons, therefore, to believe the information on the screenshot was fake. The link I used was Sina’s Financial News, which I believe is trustworthy enough for China’s standard.

It is also important to note, of course, that two scenarios may still render this screenshot irrelevant. 1) The verdict, which was not mentioned in the screenshot, was “not guilty” and 2) the name listed in the case, 袁依楣, was not MXTX at all.

Few have seemed to suspect 2) to be a possibility. Her real name might have been prior knowledge among some fans, or the combination of her surname and city of residence. 1) has been the where the concern / debate is.

I included China’s rate of conviction in the original post for this reason: acquittal is exceedingly rare (<0.1%) for the arrested in China. This short article discussed some reasons.

So, is it possible that MXTX is now a free woman? Yes. Is it likely? Not at all.

Still, since the probability that MXTX is imprisoned isn’t 100%, is spreading this news smearing her name? Fear-mongering?

I can only answer for myself, Anon, but my answer is no for both questions, which is why I’ve felt comfortable posting about her case. MXTX’s alleged “crimes” are things we already knew she did, or common practices among Chinese IP writers. We know she penned MDZS and other BL works; we know MDZS, in particular, has an 18+ element. She was said to have sold merch based on her works, but that wasn’t unusual at all for writers in Jinjiang, where she published her writing. Even those who don’t like her have seemed to agree that it was her writing that got her into trouble, not some other crimes she could’ve committed.

IMO, a guilty verdict doesn’t tell us as much about her as it does about the judicial system, the business practices of her country. It’s worth re-mentioning that media giants such as Tencent are closely tied to the government; Tencent’s WeChat, for example, is part of China’s Great Firewall and is used for surveillance, for censorship and removal of political dissidents. What MXTX’s case hints at is this: the government has (very likely) convicted her, while its close allies are continuing to use her works—works that got her into legal trouble in the first place—to make money. Some fans of MXTX have questioned if the courts have censored the details of the case to save the embarrassment of the rich and powerful, calling what has happened to MXTX 人血饅頭 (“human blood steamed buns”), an idiom used to describe the act of profiting out of someone elses’ life.

As for fear-mongering, here are my thoughts ~ it would’ve been fear-mongering if the public has access to the facts, and not years after they happen. Specifically, it would’ve been fear-mongering to leak the rumours of MXTX’s sentencing, when the judicial system is transparent and the case details will soon be published for all to see. Why? Because “fear” comes from the unknown, and “-monger” is the unnecessary promotion, stirring-up of this fear.

To promote, stir up anything, one needs a reference level. The reference level in this scenario is this: what is the level of fear if the facts about MXTX’s (and other BL writers’) situation are known? Of course, this knowledge doesn’t make MXTX’s experience any easier or more just; it doesn’t cause her less fear. However, she isn’t the target audience of this likely-to-be-true rumour. The target audience is the public and in particular, those who consume and/or generate BL material online.

What is the level of fear among this population if the facts about MXTX’s (and other BL writers’) situation are known? It’s the (relative) comfort in knowing the government’s stance on what they do: how the administration feels about BL, 18+ BL, and their distribution methods. The comfort comes from having the right information to decide how to act accordingly. For example, if I’m a BL writer based in China and I know the court has found MXTX guilty of bypassing publishing houses but not of writing M/M romance, then I’ll know to not produce paper versions of my writing, but I can keep writing.

This reference level of fear is unavailable here, however, since the government has decided to withhold all details about the case. Without this reference level, fear-mongering becomes a ... difficult to define concept.

Are these likely-to-be-true rumours agents of fear, or are they hints on how to survive in a country that lacks transparency?

Continuing with the example of I being a Chinese BL writer, since I cannot expect to hear more facts about MXTX, this rumour is all I’ve got in choosing what to do with my hobby, in deciding whether it is safe to continue. As I’m aware that a rumour isn’t a fact, I first research on the rumour’s likelihood of truth (similar to what I’ve done for MXTX’s case), and cross my fingers that I don’t get it wrong.

By doing so, I’m turning these rumours into my survival guide.

Is it risky? Yes. Is it exhausting? Absolutely. But this is the way of life for people who live under secretive, authoritarian governments—the authoritarian element making it impossible to demand more facts. It may take people outside such regimes some time to get used to—to the lifestyle, and to the idea that, in a place where news is often synonymous with propaganda, rumours are breadcrumbs of truth that should be sieved through with equal care as one would sieve through the news. Heeding, considering the probable truth of what the authority has deemed to be fear-mongering rumours can be a matter of literal life and death. 

Take...COVID. (I apologize for bringing up this unpleasant topic!)

I shall link to an article about the early spread of COVID in Wuhan here and ask: were Dr. Li Wenliang and the seven other doctors fear-mongering? Wuhanese chose to believe in the government, but at what cost to them? What would the world be like today if they took the early COVID rumours as true and masked up like Hong Kongers—Hong Kongers who weren’t any smarter or better, but had simply learned their painful lessons from the 2003 SARS epidemic? 

(Why hadn’t the Wuhanese learned? Because the government has long changed the narrative of SARS, taught their people that the illness originated in Hong Kong.) 

(How can one learn from past mistakes if one pretends those mistakes never existed?)

You must be wondering, Anon, why I’m talking about COVID when your next question is about YiZhan. The death of Dr Li Wenliang on February 7th, 2020, sparked a demand for freedom of speech rarely seen in internet-age China. Its fury, its ferocity forced the government to change its stance on Dr Li, again an unusual move. Since January 2020, Weibo had been censoring COVID news and opinion pieces that shedded a negative light to the central government; after the death of Dr Li, the censorship apparatus stepped up, making way for the propaganda machine to kick in later and change the narrative of the pandemic.

Here are some questions without definite answers, but may be food for thought for YiZhan fans:

1) While the Chinese government’s censorship apparatus (including Weibo) might have silenced the voices of dissent, of mourning on the surface, was it more likely to pacify, or fuel the anger of netizens, many of whom had lost loved ones, many of whom were still under quarantine?

2) Less than three weeks after the death of Dr Li, a group of fans demanded even *more* censorship from the government—the closing of an internet website that had been seen as a relatively free space to express oneself. How would these netizens react, even though they knew little about these fans or their idol?  

(It was, in the context of the massive silencing of COVID discussions in China, that I learned about the ban of AO3. There had been rumours that the government would censor more websites on 2020/03/01. When I read about AO3′s ban on 2/27, my thoughts were 1) Hmm. This came two days early. 2) AO3? Really?)

(I wouldn’t watch The Untamed or know who Gg was until several months later.)

Now, Anon, this is a good time to get to your CCP (Chinese Communist Party) question.

The very short answer is no. There’s no way to support YiZhan without, to a certain level, supporting the CCP. As mentioned above, the media companies are all part of China’s surveillance system. Weibo is where freedom of speech is curbed. Our two boys have been part of the propaganda machine; the BBC article linked above had a tiny picture of Gg on it, as he was a performer in the Hero in Harm’s Way (最美逆行者), a “real-life based” drama on COVID. DD just did a show glorying the Chinese police force (and here’s a video of the same force welding doors to lock in COVID-stricken residents).

Nonetheless, here’s my first advice: please do not beat yourself up for supporting YiZhan!

Gg and Dd are people who live within the system, inside the Great Firewall. They understand the world the way their government has taught them to—not only in school, but also in the news and media. Like most youths in every country, they’re patriotic—and to expect them to be otherwise, especially because of information they don’t have, is both unrealistic and unfair. Even if they do know about certain things impermissible within the Firewall, in China (as in many Communists countries), openly expressing / performing one’s proper political leanings (ie. loyalty towards CCP) is among the most important pre-requisites for any job. This has been especially true for c-ent in recent years .

They, like most of their countrymen, are doing what they have to do.

In this case, it comes to us, our decisions on how to interact with their works. How should we deal with them, their propaganda elements?

The answer, of course, varies from person to person. Personally, I’ve chosen the approaches of “immunisation” and “restriction”. By “immunisation”, I mean learning about as much historical and sociopolitical facts from non-CCP sponsored sources; this is understandably difficult for someone who doesn’t already have some familiarity with the culture and politics of the region, and/or cannot read the language. 

Restriction means limiting my consumption of media produced by China. I avoid shows (dramas, documentaries, variety etc) featuring topics that are likely to contain heavy propaganda, such as the military, the police, Hong Kong/Macao/Taiwan, and of course, anything pertaining to the CCP, from its rise to its governance of the country.

In general, I’m wary of all information presented about the post-monarchy years (post 1911), even though CCP wouldn’t begin its reign until after WWII (1949). Why so early? 1) Because CCP was formed in 1921 and so its glorification requires a change of narrative since then; 2) because the Nationalist Party (Kuomintang, KMT), which governed China between 1912 and 1949 (the so-called Republican Era 民國), would end up exiling to and setting up a new government in Taiwan.

How much propaganda should one expect in shows depicting the country post-1911? The current TV and webdrama directives (previously discussed in this post) offer some hints. Here are my translations of the relevant items:

D7) Dramas about the Republican era: Glorification of the Republican Era, the Beiyang Government, and Warlord Era requires strict control.

D10) Crime drama: crime drama is the focus of content auditing. The Ministry of Public Security (Pie note: in charge of law enforcement, ie, police) will be involved in the audit. The process of crime solving cannot be exposed; criminal psychology and motivations can however be depicted in detail. Undercover police cannot use drugs or kill, or damage the image of the police force. Criminals must be punished by law.

D12) Dramas featuring realistic topics: realistic topics must adhere to the correct world view, philosophy of life and moral values. They cannot place too strong an emphasis on social conflicts, must showcase the beautiful lives of the commoners. Regular folks should display larger-than-life sentiments and aspirations; they can pursue wealth, but must use proper means to do so; they cannot damage the public image of specific employment types, groups and social organisations. Do not preach negative or decadent world view, philosophy of life and moral values. Do not exaggerate, amplify social issues; do not over showcase, display the darker sides of society; do not preach affluence, avoid things that have no basis in real life.

D16) Dramas featuring the Revolution (Pie note: CCP’s coming to power): 2019 is the publicity period of the 70th Anniversary of the People’s Republic of China. Although the “Three Importances” (important revolution, important people, important events) are still encouraged, the  National Radio and Television Administration requires all departments, at all levels, to strengthen the control of content and the overall management of the industry, and focus on the auditing of content pertaining to the Sino-Japanese war and espionage dramas.

These directives (as those translated in the other post) are as vague as they are restrictive, and to err on the side of caution, production companies tend to “overachieve” to avoid going against headwinds at the censorship board. This means their products have a tendency to malign the Republican Era (D7). It means they will likely twist history in trying to depict the CCP as faultless heroes (D16). It means they'll probably present a utopian-like society and call it reality-based (D12), a society in which the good guys share the same values as the CCP and always win (D10).

Yes, my “restriction” means I skipped Hero in Harm’s Way. It means I’ve never listened to Gg’s version of 我和我的祖國 despite my absolute adoration of his voice. It means I just missed Dd’s performance in the law enforcement celebration event. It means I don’t plan on watching Being A Hero and Ace Troops.

So here’s where I’ve drawn the line, Anon, but it doesn’t mean that’s what anyone should do. Only you alone can decide where your own comfort zone is. I write these metas in the hopes that it can offer a … gateway for those who’d like to understand, with a more telescopic lens, Gg and Dd’s country—a country that holds a particularly strong hold over its citizens’ fate including, yes, their romantic fate. It’s not my wish to impose my opinions on anyone.

If I have other hopes… It’s this. Please, as long as it’s safe for you to talk, do not self-censor—especially about facts, especially on sites like Tumblr or Twitter that have long been banned by the Chinese government. I don’t mean one should go about and confront those who insist on a different version of reality. To undo opinions rooted in years of education, IMO, the process has to be voluntary, and the information is already at the fingertips of those who’re surfing these sites and wish to learn more. More importantly, open discussions of these topics may be risky for those who still have close ties to China, and keeping them safe should always be the top priority. 

What I mean is simply this ~ please do not feel obliged to agree with every perspective presented in YiZhan’s work just because you support the leads. Please do not feel you must remain silent about the CCP—its good, bad and ugly—just because your favourite stars happen to come from the country it’s ruling. And please remember: “Chinese”, as a term, has always included people who live outside CCP’s control, many of whom still fully embrace the culture, traditions and values of Historical China, a 5000-years long string of dynasties with shifting borders, ethnic makeup and customs. The Untamed is a mainland Chinese production, yes, but its genre, its manner of presenting certain traditions, wouldn’t have been developed, or flourished, without the diaspora. The CCP has only been the ruling party of one country, the People’s Republic of China, for 71 years, and as a party with foreign (soviet) roots and a record of destroying the pillar of the country’s tradition, Confucianism, it doesn’t own a monopolistic say on how every Chinese should think and act—no matter how much it insists it does—or how everyone should think and speak about China and its people.

It isn’t qualified.

[dana-chan-the-control-brain]

Top five fanfics?

Oh fuck (gets shot)

Well, I shot myself in the foot with that one.

Keep in mind, these are in no particular order, and I'm a bit of a pleb when it comes to reading fanfic. I just tend to like what's popular or stuff written by my friends.

I need to give Height Treason by @wholesomeklei a huge shout-out.

I'm not sure if this fic will ever be continued or not. Last I heard of Klei, they had a cancer scare (it wasn't) updated a chapter about Sizz-lorr and then vanished from the internet entirely. I hope they're taking a much needed break from online stuff and nothing bad happened to them.

But anyways, I can not thank Height Treason enough for existing. It gells with the humor of canon so seemlessly it feels like I'm watching an "Invader Zim after dark" show. Yes, even despite the not safe for work canon.

I love the lore they weave and I'm always a fan of "zim finds out the truth of his mission and schmoops and gets revenge on the Irken empire" stories. Also Pining Zim has my whole heart.

And it even paints side characters with much love.

Membrane tries his best and sucks at parenting and it inspired me greatly for how I write and came to understand Membrane as a character.

Miss Bitters is a delight. Sargent Slabrankle gets a cameo. Tak's ship has an existential crisis. Gosshloog gets an entire chapter about a spicy love afair with his boss. Zim's Computer is his usual sassy self and has ackward conversations with a frustrated teenage Dib.

Like the love for the side characters is amazing.

Height Treason was the fanfic that inspired me to write an entire fanfiction based on Computer Brain lore.

The lore is amazing, it's in character and this fic inspired me SO MUCH and is the reason that Tech Support (and the Brainbrane fic by extension) even exists.

I've probably reread this fic over twenty times.

However, I can't link the fic here, since it's VERY nsfw. As in, explicit sex scenes later. (The chapter where zim learns sex education is great)

So I can't link it, but it's easily searchable on A03.

If you're of age, and don't mind nsfw I highly recommend it.

Honesty Hour by @patchworkpoltergeist is one of those new fandom classics.

Like I don't even know how describe this fic.

Honesty Hour chills me to the core and has me looking at my ceiling for hours on end questioning my own existence.

Like it's Zim gets therapy, but in a psychological horror way.

Patch is a master wordsmith and just has a way of describing things. Everything is in the details.

I just love how Zim thinks and that half the time I don't know what's going on as much as Zim does. Which is honestly more scary then I think.

There's lots of details that I miss and usually after talking about the chapter with Patch or the Moo-ping10 gang, I realize "oh fuck that's what happened?! The hell"

Anyways. I fear and look forward to every update.

But I honestly have to run a mental health check before I even attempt to read the chapters.

Emotions, Cryptids and the possible end of the world series by @bamsara

I feel Bamsara does onto theirself and I don't need to sing her fics praises but I will.

I am a bit behind on my reading, cause I haven't read the latest chapter of Galaxy Days yet.

But I love the casual yet feral friendship Dib and Zim have built throughout this series.

There's just a constant yearning throughout the whole thing, and the two boys are at the center of it all. Like the feeling of a real long road trip with no destination in mind. That's often what these series of fics feel like. There's an underlying tenderness and longing but also something dark and sinister. A lot of moments stay in my head for days after the fact. Not just the cryptids of the fic, but the smaller moments. Zim and Dib having breakfast in France as the sun rises, Dib crying his eyes out in a dingy motel room near the beach, Zim breaking into Dib's hospital room in the dark, Dib attacking Zim in a fit of insomnia hallucinations....

The list goes on.

There's plenty of good moments, and I've even drawn Zim giving Dib space (cause that's the fucking gayest romantic thing and I still lie in bed thinking about it)

Also Dib constantly running into Death's arms and Zim often doing fisticuffs with her and both getting stupid trauma over stupid decisions is very good.

I feel a lot of Sara's soul in these fics and it shows. Especially with how Dib is written and I can tell this is an extremely personal project with passion behind it and I can't help but admire that.

Every star another sun series by @dionysuscrysis

I really love this series. The end.

Okay, unfair.

But Dion's series really needs more views and appreciation.

I like how it just skips over the "zim and dib become friends somehow....realizes mission is fake..yadda yadda" part of the story and just jumps right into the thick of it.

Space Adventures! Wooooo!!!!

A giant sandworm, a Battle Zoo!!! An alien spa, badass good guy Skoodge, and mad max style sci-fi racing.

And I'm glad that Dib is already in his early twenties here. And Dib is just so smart with machines and not a complete lost duck in space. He's sharp as a tack and dumb as an ox this boy and I love him very much.

Lol I'm old. I'm sick of seeing teenage drama sometimes.

And I can also feel a lot of Dion's soul in their fics.

Lots of hurt comfort in here....

It's actually kinda like the Bamsara effect in reverse...

Instead of Dib throwing himself head first into danger...

Zim is the one doing it.

And Dib thinks an appropriate way to fix this is throw himself at the same danger.

Idiots.

Help them.

Parade of Indignities by @rissynicole

Finished recently and since then my heart has never known peace.

It's one of those fandom classics that I ended up reading due to Bamsara's fic recommendation list like roughly two years ago.

Rissy has a way with words and their strengths lend themselves to action scenes extremely well.

Zim finds himself critically ill and it's up to Dib to travel back to irken space to save him.

Thats the basic premise but there is so much more.

A conspiracy, involving the other Invaders, Zim's massive wall of denial, and how everything Zadf happens from Dib's perspective.

I remember reading all the available chapters (like 15 of them) all in one night until 5am the first time I read it.

It's a master suspense and thriller story and I enjoyed it very much.

I still have to leave a huge comment.

Also honorable recommendations:

@melodyofthevoid 's Royalty AU.

....just. it good. Save these kids.

And ofc me and @paketdimensioncomic 's collab fics:

"Jerking around the House" and "Membrane's guide to be a better parent, lose your fucking arms"

You're a delight to work with and I love how your writing style compliments my insane ramblings so they're less wordy.

Also gotta give a shout-out to my Baby Tech Support.

Is it vain to plug your own fics? Maybe.

Do I care.

Nah.

I love my stuff. And I'm glad others do too.

[blastoisemonster]

Pokèmon World Magazine: Porygon Net (Various Issues)

We’ve had a very long streak of Photoset posts lately, didn’t we? Let’s have a little break from anime and tie-in games and let’s go back to oldschool Pokèmon and my favourite childhood magazine, Pokèmon World!

This summer I'm working on my own portfolio site: it's getting built from scratch and, due to the kind of art it's going to showcase, I'm designing its layout to look like one of those old personal pages a lot of Internet users used to have back in the first 2000s. This choice was also influenced by one of my childhood dreams, which was, infact, owning a corner of the Net all for myself; without the right equipment or spare money to purchase a domain, though, the idea of having my page online was only hypotetical, so all I could do was designing some cute layouts on Microsoft Frontpage and admiring what others were doing. Of course, as Pokèmon was my main interest at the time, I found the Porygon Net section of Pokèmon World mag to be extra inspirational.

Porygon Net was a very small section with just a double page: every month, the magazine's staff would choose and review an italian site dedicated to everyone's favourite monsters. These online corners were, most of the times, built by fellow readers and fans who sometimes even wrote back either by mailing the staff or boasting about it on their site's news section, thanking for the feature and the subsequent wave of new visitors. As these places were built by teens or even kids (I may have seen some online pages managed by 10 year olds at the time o.o), their quality varied greatly depending on their web-making skills: some were very simplistic, other more orderly and neat, and some... showed potential, but needed more work. Pokèmon World's staff, though, never mocked these attempts, and instead also published suggestions to make certain parts of the site more functional and pleasing to the eye. I found this very encouraging, and I wonder if many of these people have continued with a career in the online world.

I went and browsed among my mag issues to find some sites to showcase: I mostly picked the ones that stuck in my mind since reading about them, or that I actually used to visit back in the day. Wayback Machine may have not been kind to the italian community, and I fear the majority of these sites are now lost; however, I'll post links if, surprisingly, I find them still alive!

Issue 4: Pokemon Mania

The pictures have been displayed in chronological order, but I still would've chosen to display this site first as I used to actually visit it before it was featured on Pokèmon World. Due to its easy and straightforward name, Pokèmon Mania was one of the first fansites to show up on the search engine if you ever looked for more Pokèmon content. It was managed by a guy with the alias of Professor Kao, and the whole feeling of the site was that of a Pokemon lab at the start of your monster journey. Though it wasn't exactly a marvel in terms of layout esthetic, the site aimed to amaze with content: it had simple browser fangames, a section dedicated to drawing tutorials (with pictures taken from japanese sources- which at the time were very scarce and hard to get!), many sections dedicated to the Cardgame (apparently, the main focus of Kao's Pokèmon interests) and its live tournaments, and one centered on the monsters' trivia. One very interactive section even proposed quizzes given by the webmaster himself that visitors could answer via mail: Kao would then contact winners and even send out special official merch like Pokèmon Center plushies or other branded toys. Generous! This site has been preserved in the Wayback Machine with a lot of snapshots, though unfortunately without many graphics. We can still navigate and read most of the sections!

Issue 20: Pokemon Museum

My second site of choice striked me with its very homely layout: even looking at the snapshot in its article feels like I'm viewing a cozy corner of the Net, in which the webmaster poured its personal thoughts and passions more than providing a service like PokèmonMania did. The issue is number 20 and quite some months have passed: online trends regarding these kind of pages had changed a bit and now people preferred to offer their own content instead of copy-pasting what Nintendo produced. Pokèmon Museum's graphics have all been drawn by the owner, Kabutops: the background texture, banner, and a lot of the graphics all around the sections! Kudos for being to prolific and precise during a period in which digital art still hadn't reached its peak popularity, and drawing tablets were only restricted to professionals. Going past the many sections dedicated to the anime, games and lore, one interesting aspect was the beginning of affiliates: fellow webmasters were starting communicating with eachother and sharing their visits by dedicating a little button to other sites. I loved the affiliates section because, once finished looking through a site, I could click on the cute little rectangle banners and find myself in another home without passing from Google searches! But webmasters wouldn't affiliate with everyone, and for the purpose of only interacting with other best Pokèsites, awards had become popular as well: graphics that people would exchange after rating a site and feeling impressed with their content, presentation, or popularity. Pokèmon Museum's magazine review focused on its affiliates and the awards, inviting fellow readers to have their site reviewed by Kabutops. Unfortunately, the site is not present on Wayback Machine. I'll never know if Kabutops came back updating its museum after summer vacations :(

Issue 35: TBPS

Let's have another jump of several months; issue 35 featured a page under the bigger domain Pokevalley and named itself The Best Pokèmon Page, rather narcissistic! This was one of those rare times Pokèmon World featured an english-speaking site. The layout doesn't impress me too much, yet the fact that the header reads "Crystal Water Version" conveys that the webmaster(s) used to periodically change aspect and palette of their site, an activity that proved to be very prolific for many page owners at the time: sites were often in construction, and people were experimenting with different colours or HTML code tricks to impress viewers and reviewers, have as many affiliates as possible and collect positive awards from other sites. Such was popularity, back in the day! The site has a long menu with many sections dedicated to the main games and movies; although, none of those pages were catching anyone’s attention anymore as everyone had the same copypasted guides and info; instead, what’s interesting is the hefty section dedicated to browser games, the big menu with pages concerning the site and staff themselves, and the oekaki board! Oekakis were very popular in that period, as it allowed fellow aspiring artists to meet eachother and show off their own skills by drawing live! If a site hosted one, they could quickly become a melting pot of creativity. Wayback Machine, sadly, doesn’t have anything concerning this site as well.

Issue 36: Arcywof

We’re back on italian sites with a page that definitely impressed even Pokèmon World’s staff for its pleasing graphics. When I first saw this among the magazine’s pages... my eyes lit up! I can’t hide that after seeing its beautiful palette, checkered background and condensed menu, teen me adopted Arcy & The Fire Pkmn as design guru: many of my subsequent mockup pages had exactly this layout, or variations of it. It’s too bad, though, that aside from the beautiful presentation, the site’s contents aren’t exactly interesting: the Pokèmon images are ripped straight from Nintendo’s official archives, and most sections are concerning the anime’s characters, episode plots, and broadcasting dates. However, Arcywof also offers a forum and a live chat, which definitely helped the staff build an interactive and affectionate community around it. Among all reviewed here, I’m most bitter that Wayback Machine hasn’t archived this site, because seriously, it’s a little jewel ;w; its pastel colours and checkered texture remind me of candy shops!

Issue 38: Pokemon Super Site

I wanted to finish this little jump in the past with a positive note and show at least one more saved address from Wayback Machine. Although not in its updated version originally featured in Pokèmon World Issue 38, Pokèmon Super Site has been archived and it’s more or less complete to explore. It’s too bad a lot of the graphics haven’t survived but hey it’s something! It’s 2003, and the trend has changed once again: forums are as popular as ever and considered one of the most successful ways to build a solid audience for one’s own page, which are now treated more like portals or an extension to the forum itself. Super Site’s sections are centered on game guides, nothing too special, but I do love the grey and white grid background on menus and header, as if we’re viewing a notebook page; reminds me of school days. I also really like the gifs section as featured in the review, all those old graphics bring back so much memories of scouting the net to save them all on hard drive!

If you stumble upon one of these sites in Wayback Machine, chances are the ever present affiliates buttons will still be working, allowing you to visit even more fansites. It’s a true trip to the past, and a never ending source of inspiration for me!

[gabriel-agreste-has-no-rights]

Rating:  G

Summary:  Side-effects may include: eating fabric, staring into bright lights, and being allergic to mothballs.  (AKA, the one where Gabriel Agreste has moth tendencies, and Adrien is rightfully concerned.)

Word Count:  4203

Notes:  Mostly inspired by the fact that there's so many Chat Noir cat tendencies fics and even a few Ladybug hibernation fics but WHERE are my Hawkmoth tendencies fics?? Anyway be the change you want to see

For non-english readers in particular since I got a lot of questions when I talked about it on discord: mothballs are little balls of pesticide/deodorant that can be used to repel moths. Usually kept in clothes drawers and are pretty outdated now but anyway its a Real Thing and not me trying to make an innuendo i swear lol

XXX

“Uh… Father?”  Adrien peeked in through the cracked door.  He shouldn’t—Father valued his privacy more than anything, including his son’s attention—but he couldn’t help it.  The brief glance he’d caught was just too weird.

Gabriel snapped to attention, his glasses jostling slightly as he tore his eyes away from the blinding lamp in the center of his desk.

“Adrien.”  His candycane-striped tie dropped out of his mouth.  The end of it was completely chewn off.  Was—did he just swallow that?  People couldn’t digest silk, could they?   “You’re supposed to be practicing your Chinese.”

“I-I know, I just came down to ask Nathalie—nevermind.”  It wasn’t like she or Father were likely to adjust his schedule so he could get ice cream with his friends, especially not when Father was doing… whatever he was doing.  “Are you okay?”

“That is no concern of yours,” he snapped.  Which wasn’t a yes.  Was this some new kind of coping mechanism?  

Not for the first time, Adrien wished Father would agree to go to therapy.

“Um… okay.  I’ll just—go back to work.”

He dashed back up the stairs before Father could decide that his momentary break should be punished.  But still, he couldn’t get the image of the half-chewed tie or Father’s wide-eyed, trancelike stare out of his head.

XXX

“Have you noticed Father acting weird?”  He finally got up the nerve to ask Nathalie.  “I mean, weirder than usual?”

“I am sure he is just busy as always, Adrien.”

Which was just as much of a brush-off as “that is no concern of yours.”  Maybe he should’ve tried a less direct approach, but he couldn’t think of one.

“Has he… been working on a line of flavored fabrics?”  He tested one of his wilder theories.  It would explain why Father’s tie was patterned like a candy cane, at least.  Even Adrien knew that wasn’t in style.

Nathalie raised an eyebrow.  “What would give you that idea?”

Somehow he got the feeling that telling Nathalie what he’d seen wasn’t a good idea.  But who else could help Father if he was struggling?

“Um… well, he seemed like he was… eating his tie?  When I saw him yesterday.”

She sighed, and Adrien swore he heard something like “not again” muttered under her breath.  Maybe that was why he usually kept it tucked inside his vest?

“Your Father has developed some… odd habits lately.  But I can assure you it is nothing to worry about.”

Father had said the same thing before Mom disappeared.  Adrien didn’t stop worrying.

XXX

“I don’t see what the big deal is.  So your dad likes to chew on fabric, so what?  Not everyone can have excellent taste like me.”  Plagg swallowed another wedge of Camembert as if to prove it.

Adrien rolled his eyes and rolled over on the floor, soaking up the warmth of the sunset spilling in through his window.

“Maybe kwamis can eat all sorts of weird stuff, but humans can’t.  I just don’t know if this is some kind of coping mechanism, or something.  Maybe he’s been avoiding me because he’s acting weird and he doesn’t want anyone to find out.”

It would explain why Father only talked to him through his tablet, more often than not.  Maybe he was just embarrassed.  But he couldn’t go on like that forever, right?  Even if Mom’s disappearance hurt, they were better off leaning on each other than staying apart.

“Hate to break it to you, but your dad’s already weird, kid.  Eating ties is probably the best of his qualities.”

Adrien sighed.  It wasn’t like Plagg could understand; he just put whatever he wanted in his mouth.  Adrien himself could understand a little—ever since becoming Chat Noir, he sometimes had the urge to chew on cords, strings, even some plants.  It was a little embarrassing, but he could usually control himself.  Maybe if he shouldn’t though.  If Father saw him doing it, maybe he’d feel less weird about it himself?

...Or he’d punish Adrien for ruining perfectly good headphone cords.  Yeah, that was more likely.

Maybe it wasn’t a big deal, and he should just drop it, but he wanted to do something to help his Father.

“Get him something better to eat?”  Plagg suggested when Adrien voiced the thought out loud.  “A good aged swiss might do the trick.  Just don’t give him my Camembert; he doesn’t deserve it.”

“You’re useless,” he huffed.  Maybe the internet would have better advice.

“Eating fabric” just brought up a bunch of articles about sewing machine problems and disobedient pets.  Not exactly helpful.  But “How to stop my dad from eating fabric” didn’t seem like a useful search entry, either.

Plagg squirmed under his chin, looking up at the phone screen he held over his face.  “You think it’s got something to do with bugs?”  He asked, pointing to the one search result Adrien’s thumb had been half-covering.

“How to control bugs that eat clothes,” the article was titled.  Adrien snorted.

“Unless Father is secretly some kind of moth—”

His jaw snapped shut.  No, no, he was not going there again.  It had been bad enough when Ladybug suggested it before, and besides, it wasn’t like Father’s actions were any kind of proof.

Even if he had also been staring directly into a lamp, entranced…

“Adrien?  Kid, you don’t look so hot.  What’s going on?”

He didn’t want to say it.  It was stupid, anyway; Father had been akumatized before.  He shuddered just remembering it.

But he wasn’t just Adrien Agreste, son of Gabriel Agreste.  He was also Chat Noir, Hero of Paris.  And it would be irresponsible to drop a lead just because he was scared.

“Do you think… would Hawkmoth have animal tendencies from his miraculous too?”

Plagg’s eyes went wide—wider than they always were, anyway.  “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

“Just tell me, Plagg.”  He didn’t want to admit what he was saying at all—this was his father, and even if he could be restrictive and controlling, he wasn’t evil.

He was being ridiculous.  Utterly ridiculous.

“Well… yeah.  All miraculous users do.  Nooroo’s holders have always been weirder though.  They tend to be shut-ins.  Couldn’t even bribe them out with my best brie.”

“So you haven’t been around a lot of past Hawkmoths?”  It was both relieving and disappointing, but it made sense.  If Plagg thought Father had the side-effects, he would’ve said something before now.  Not that Plagg saw much of Father, considering Adrien didn’t see much of him…

“Nope.  They sent out their champions to fight for them most of the time.  Not like us who’ve gotta do the real work.”

Adrien snorted.  “What work?”

“Hey, protecting you when you take a beating isn’t easy!”  Plagg flicked his nose, and he laughed.

“Fair, I guess.”  Adrien rolled over onto his stomach as his kwami zipped away.  Probably grabbing some Camembert, or a stinky sock to snuggle under.

But to his surprise, Plagg didn’t come back with either of those things.  Instead he was carrying something just as smelly—if not worse.  A small, round white ball.  He was pretty sure he’d seen ones like it in his sweater drawer.

Adrien sat up and covered his nose.  “Is that a—mothball?”

“You’re still worried about your dad, right?”

He blinked.  It was easy to forget that Plagg could be perceptive when he wanted to be.  “I don’t see what mothballs have to do with this.”

“Really.  You don’t see what mothballs have to do with telling if someone is Hawkmoth,” he deadpanned.

“You think I should see if Father is… you know… by seeing if he hates mothballs?  Do you really think that will work?  I thought Hawkmoth had the butterfly miraculous.”

“You’re the one who was worried about it.”  Plagg shrugged.  “And like I said, the butterfly miraculous is weird.  Think there might’ve been something wrong with it even before it was used by a supervillain.  Maybe Hawkmoth picked his name for a reason. Anyway, you won’t know unless you try it.”

As far as Plagg’s ideas went, it wasn’t too bad.  It didn’t involve cheese, at least.  And if Father wasn’t hiding anything, then he wouldn’t be bothered by it, right?

Adrien took the mothball from his kwami’s outstretched paws.

He was going to prove that his Father wasn’t Hawkmoth.  And then he’d figure out what to do about the whole eating fabric situation.

XXX

When Nino told him he should push back against Father’s boundaries, Adrien was pretty sure this wasn’t what he meant.  Anxiety prickled the hairs on the back of his neck as he paced in front of the bedroom door.

“Come on kid, don’t get cold feet now,” Plagg whispered.

“My feet aren’t cold.  I have socks on.”  Adrien frowned down at his red-and-black socks.  They kept his footsteps quiet and gave him a little boost of confidence.  Ladybug wouldn’t be afraid to peek in his father’s room.

“Let’s do it,” he said with newfound determination, and cracked open the door.

Hadn’t Father had a window in here at one point?  The sunset should be streaming in right about now, but instead Adrien had to fumble in the pitch black for the lightswitch.  When the room illuminated, he blinked in shock.

“Wow.”  Plagg whistled.  “Your dad is a few wedges short of a wheel for sure.”

That… that was one way to say it.  Fabric was scattered across the floor in careless heaps.  At one point Adrien would have blamed it on his designing, but if that were the case, the clothes wouldn’t look gnawed on.  

“This is worse than I thought, Plagg.”  Maybe it was a good thing his kwami had encouraged him to rebel after all.  Father seriously needed help. Humans shouldn’t even be able to digest silk and wool!  What if he got some kind of disease?  What if he already had some kind of disease? That second option was more likely, considering… well, all this.

“So, you gonna drop those mothballs or not?”

“Right.”  Adrien snapped out of his thoughts and began digging the white spheres out of his pockets. He’d have to bury them in the chewed up clothes so Father wouldn’t see them. But what if Father did notice? Was it really worth the risk just to ease his mind about Father being Hawkmoth?

...Yes, it was. Especially considering there was no proof Hawkmoth couldn’t akumatize himself. And Father had been the only lead Ladybug had ever had…

He shook his head. Just put the mothballs down, and he could prove his Father was innocent once and for all.

“Alright, let's get out of here. This place is creepy,” Plagg said when Adrien was done.

“I thought you would’ve liked the smell at least,” he tried to joke.  Better that than actually thinking about what he was doing.

“I’ll take your stinky socks over this any day.”

Adrien crept out of the bedroom, hoping that this whole endeavor ended up being pointless.

XXX

Father had a cold.

That was what Nathalie said, anyway.  Adrien had never actually seen Father sick before.  Nothing could keep him away from his work, or from… whatever he did when he was busy ignoring Adrien.

But he heard him wheezing behind his bedroom door, so he really had some kind of illness.

...Or he was allergic to the mothballs.  Plagg didn’t say it, but from the pinched look on his face every time Adrien passed by Father’s door, he was definitely thinking it.

“It has to be a coincidence,” Adrien told Plagg, who shrugged.

“Hey, don’t look at me.  You’re the one who had the idea that your dad is Hawkmoth in the first place.”

“Technically that was Ladybug,” he mumbled, flopping back on his bed.  “Maybe he just got sick from eating all that fabric.”

“Maybe.  But didn’t Nathalie say he’s been doing that for a while?”

Dang it, Plagg was right there.  It was just so surreal, thinking his father could actually be the supervillain he’d been fighting this whole time.

It was going to take more than therapy to fix this.

XXX

“You think he’s planning something?”  Ladybug asked when they lay back on their usual rooftop at the end of their patrol route.

Adrien’s stomach twisted.  There’d been no sign of an akuma for two weeks.  

Father had been sick for two weeks.

Coincidence. Right?

“Maybe,” he mumbled, his tail twitching fitfully.  Then he sat up and shook his head.  “Actually, LB…”

“Yeah?” She sat up too, her gaze completely focused on him.  While he normally loved to be the center of her attention, right now he wished he had nothing to say.

“Remember when you thought… well, when you thought Gabriel Agreste might be Hawkmoth?”

She startled. “Why are you bringing this up now?”

“Well, um… I got a tip from uh… Adrien.  You know, Adrien Agreste?”

“Of course I know him, he’s—I-I mean, everyone knows Adrien, right?”  For some reason, her face looked pink in the moonlight.

“Right, right. Anyway… he was telling me he was worried about his father, and it’s kind of a long story… but it seems like he might have some… moth tendencies.”

Ladybug blinked.  It felt like a long shot, now that he said it out loud.  Stupid.  He was probably just overreacting. 

“What kind of moth tendencies?”  She asked, her voice carefully guarded.

“Eating fabric. Staring at bright lights.  Being allergic to mothballs.”

“Mothballs?”  She laughed.  “Sorry, sorry, I believe you.  It’s just—wow. And here I thought my wanting to eat bugs was weird.”

“You? Weird? Never,” he joked to relieve some tension.  She believed him. She believed him, and that meant that he wasn’t just overreacting.  Which meant his father could be Hawkmoth.

He swallowed, trying to hide the hole that seemed to open in the pit of his stomach.

“So… you want to investigate him?  Even though he was akumatized?” Her mask furrowed around her brow, the way it tended to when she worked out her lucky charms.

“I don’t… I don’t know.”  He sighed and shook his head.  “It wouldn’t be easy.  Believe me, I’ve tried.”

“You—what?”

Oops.  Probably shouldn’t have mentioned that.  

“It’s no big deal.  I just wanted to confirm some things for myself before taking Adrien’s word for it.”

“Adrien would never lie,” Ladybug was quick to say.  

His lips quirked upward.  “I’m sure he’d be flattered to know you trust him.” 

Her accusation of Gabriel before couldn’t have been from any kind of animosity towards him, then.  Unless it was animosity on his behalf?  Did he know how much his father isolated him? No, she’d have no reason to look that closely behind his model smile.

“So… why did you think Hawkmoth was Mr. Agreste before?”  He asked hesitantly.  Before she’d said it was a secret, and he hadn’t pressed her, but it seemed an even more serious matter now.  “We gave up the lead pretty fast last time.”

“Maybe too fast.”  She grimaced.  “I’m sorry. I didn’t want it to be true anyway… and as for why I thought that… I found a book that I learned belonged to him.  If he isn’t Hawkmoth, then it was my fault he became akumatized into the Collector.”

“No, it isn’t.  It’s only ever Hawkmoth’s fault, you know that.”  Adrien squeezed her shoulder, even as inwardly his mind was racing.  Ladybug had found his father’s book when he’d lost it?  How?  She had been there when Lila had been talking about it; maybe she’d had to double back for some reason?  “Wait—you’re telling me that book he was so attached to had something to do with Hawkmoth?”

Adrien had been the one with the book at first.  The one she’d seen with it.  Why did she trust him so much?

“Yes.  Master Fu took pictures of it before I returned it so Adrien—anyway.”  She waved her hands, as if all that wasn’t important, even though it definitely was.  Father had never mentioned Ladybug returning his book! “Master Fu said the book was lost at the same time as the butterfly and peacock miraculouses.  It’s not hard to assume they’d end up in the same place.”

Adrien was glad he wasn’t standing, because he probably would have fallen.  “That’s… a pretty big lead.”

“It really is.  I should have been more responsible about investigating.  Less selfish.”

He had no idea what she meant by that, but the crushed look in her eyes prompted him not to ask.

“If this is true, Adrien’s going to be heartbroken,” she murmured, quietly enough he wasn’t sure he was meant to hear.

She was right about that.  But there was no reason for her to feel bad because of it.

“Hey, he’s the one who gave me the tip, remember?  Maybe it won’t be such a shock to him.”

Huh.  He got all those words out with barely a crack to his voice.  Maybe he was in shock.

“Maybe.  But he’ll still be crushed.  I don’t know if he has any other family, and his mom is gone.  As awful as his father is, I just don’t know…”  She trailed off, shaking her head.

“I don’t know either.”  

He hadn’t thought about it.  Any time his thoughts danced too close to the implications of his theory, they danced back just as quickly.  He had to be brave.  Ladybug was counting on him; Paris was counting on him.  It didn’t matter if one scared boy lost his father.

“So what… what do we do now?”  She asked, voice soft.  “We need proof, but I don’t know how to get it.”

Plans were normally her area of expertise.  If she didn’t know what to do…

“I don’t know.  Get a big lamp and hope it attracts him?”  He shouldn’t be joking right now, but it was the only thing distracting him from panicking.  

(Nino’s family might take him in.  Or there was always the Gorilla. He wasn’t alone, he wouldn’t be alone—)

“You know, that’s actually not a bad idea.”  

“Wait, it’s—it’s not?”  He blinked.

“No, it isn’t.  You’re a clever kitty when you want to be.”

He blushed under her praise and fought off a purr.  “Okay, so we draw him out with a big lamp.  If Hawkmoth really does have the same kind of side-effects as us, then it should work regardless of whether or not he’s transformed, right?”

“Right.  So the only question is how we get a lamp big enough to draw him out.”  Her gaze drifted across the rooftops, to the top of the Le Grande Paris hotel.  A smirk spread across her face.

“What are you thinking, Bugaboo?”

“I’m thinking I just answered that question.”

XXX

Gabriel jolted back into consciousness when his desk lamp winked out.  Impossible—the mansion had its own generator, mostly to keep the city from learning of his underground lair.  

The lair.  Where Emilie was.

“Nooroo!”  He snarled, spitting the end of his tie out as he did.  Cursed side-effects; he could hardly go a day without chewing on the silk.  At least he could hide the end of it under his vest, which he hadn’t taken off even while in bed.  Better not to have Nathalie nagging him about his “habits” again.

“Yes, Master?”  His kwami weakly flew out from under his pillow.  Whatever illness Gabriel had contracted, Nooroo seemed to mirror.  A disconcerting fact, considering how Duusuu and Emilie had felt before her… well.

But he couldn’t take off his miraculous.  Not until his work was finished.  Unfortunately, with the incessant itching and cough that had plagued him for two weeks, he hadn’t been able to sense much negative emotion beyond his own.  He wasn’t sure that he could stand without wheezing and collapsing from dizziness.

That dizziness was clouding his mind already.  What was he doing again?

“Emilie,” he rasped.  

“What about her, Master?”

“Go see if… no.  I need you with me. In case…”

He dissolved into a coughing fit.  Nooroo, the pathetic creature, only looked on in sympathy.

“Master, you aren’t well.  Perhaps if you removed my miraculous—”

“No!”  he snapped, making the kwami flinch.  “No.  Let’s… investigate the power outage.”

Fire flared across his skin as he threw his legs over the side of the bed.  Nooroo still hovered uselessly.  It was tempting to transform, but if his sudden illness was related to the miraculous, that would only exacerbate his condition.

One step in front of the other.  He would not be bested by this trifling inconvenience, not with Emilie on the line.  

He stumbled through the door, bracing himself against the knob with an iron grip.  The generator never felt so far away.

“Master, you really should…”

Be quiet!  He would’ve shouted, but his voice was little more than a rasp now.  Everything spun.  Oh, if only Nathalie hadn’t gone home for the night!  

Once he made it to the hallway, however, some of the fog cleared.  His lungs didn’t feel quite so tight.  But there was… something else.  A glow that hadn’t been visible from his room.  Through the window, like a beacon of warmth and light… Something that pushed against the darkness of his grief and rage…

His legs regained their strength the closer he grew to the light.  It involved actually going out through his front door, but that wasn’t so bad, was it?  It was near midnight, with barely a buzz of traffic, and… and the light.  How could he possibly sense any negative emotions when staring into its blinding fluorescence?  

Dully he realized he should be worried about that—he needed those negative emotions if he wanted to save his beloved Emilie—but it was difficult to think beyond navigating the narrow alleyways to follow the bright beacon.  How was it still out of reach?  He swore it had been just outside his window, a halo of light, with just a few shadows dancing within… shadows in the shape of… some kind of insect…?

Before he could discern the image now glowing against the brick wall, something wrapped around him from behind.

“Gotcha,” a girl’s voice hissed.  The string binding him dug into his arms.

“It’s really him,” a boy breathed.  

“Or he’s just crazy.  We haven’t ruled that out yet.”

“Unhand me at once!”  Gabriel shouted—tried to shout.  His voice still hadn’t fully recovered.    Nooroo was safely hidden in his jacket, and for a moment he considered transforming.  Why had he gone out without a bodyguard?  He’d made enough enemies even as a civilian; he should’ve known better, but that cursed light—the light that left spots in his eyes as a red-and-black arm reached down to unplug its source.

“Sorry, Mister Agreste.  Not until we check you for any mysterious jewelry.”

The girl spun him around, and he came face-to-face with his archnemesis herself.  It was difficult to keep the sneer off his face.

“Does the hero of Paris often accost civilians in the street?”

“Only when they show at least three signs of being Hawkbutt,” Chat Noir said from behind her.  He wore a sterile smile, one that clashed with the bitter green of his glinting scleras.  

Gabriel shuddered.  He was just a child.  Nothing to be afraid of, even with the power of destruction curled within his ink-black ring.

Even when he apparently knew Gabriel’s identity.

“I’ll be reporting this to the authorities,” he still threatened as he processed the scene.  Ladybug and Chat Noir, confronting him in an alleyway with no witnesses.  A now-dark spotlight he now recognized as Queen Bee’s signal.  A red-and-black cord that must have been the hero’s Lucky Charm

They’d planned this.  They knew.

Still, he clung to the hope that they wouldn’t find his miraculous. Not when it was hidden under— 

Ladybug tugged his half-eaten tie out from his vest.  “Wow, you weren’t kidding.  This is...”

She trailed off as her eyes caught the shine of purple beneath the red and white silk.  Beside her, Chat Noir froze.

“Nooroo, dark wings—!”

Chat Noir’s claw snagged the brooch before he could complete the phrase.  Nooroo zipped back into the miraculous, and Gabriel swore he heard the kwami sigh in relief.

This was… not ideal.

“It is you.”  Chat Noir’s hands shook—with rage?  Gabriel wouldn’t begrudge him that.  He instinctively moved to capitalize on that emotion before remembering he couldn’t akumatize anyone in his current state.

“Chat…?”  Ladybug reached out to him, and he turned to bury himself in her arms.  

Gabriel thought it might provide an opportunity to squirm free from Ladybug’s string, but her grip on her yo-yo was just as tight as her grip on her partner.  He grit his teeth.  Surely there was a way out of this!  He couldn’t lose to two teenagers over—over chasing a spotlight!

“It’s okay.  I’m here,” the girl was consoling him, though the useless hero had barely done anything besides some quick sleight of hand.

“Yeah.  Yeah, it’s going to be okay.”  He sniffled and smiled softly at her.  Then his gaze sharpened to steel when he looked back at Gabriel.

“Come on, Father.  I hope they have good therapy in jail.”

[galahadwilder]

A Thief, Redux

Chapter 1: A Cellular Mix-Up

A sequel to A Thief, a Thief, inspired by @sweetmeatdale

Enjoy my writing? Sponsor a fic chapter!

KleptoMariac Archive

AO3

*

Lila Rossi has not been having a good week. She’d been planning to frame Marinette for a month now, and the whole plan went down the tubes in seconds. She got chewed out by both Gabriel and Hawkmoth (who she’s pretty sure are the same person, but she hasn’t quite gotten enough evidence to prove it); apparently he’d been all set for a repeat of Scarlet Moth and nothing had happened. And isn’t that galling—even Hawkmoth has ridiculous amounts of faith in Dupain-Cheng, if he thinks destroying her image is enough to pull a repeat of what required turning Ladybug and killing Chat Noir the first time.

Everybody loves Marinette, even Paris’ worst terrorist, and it is infuriating.

Framing people for things isn’t the easiest thing in the world. Theft is easier; people leave stuff like their lockers and their backpacks unguarded all the time, thinking that if you can’t steal from them you can’t hurt them. Nobody ever thinks about sneaking things in. Except that that won’t work on Marinette now, because everyone in the class somehow finds it endearing when she steals from them? It’s ridiculous!

She needs another plan. Something foolproof, something that won’t backfire on her, something that won’t be traced back. Unfortunately, she has nothing.

A week passes by of people assuming that her and Marinette are finally becoming friends, and Marinette is so cloying, so sweet, and Lila just wants to strangle her with her own intestines but she has to keep up the image so she pretends to be just as sweet back. But in private... in private she’s scheming.

*

Adrien has a fencing meet on Friday, and Lila knows that Marinette is going to be distracted. She’s distracted by anything involving Adrien. So during the meet, when everyone is distracted watching Adrien and Kagami tear up the competition, Lila sneaks into the locker room.

She learned to pick locks ages ago—it’s astounding what you can learn from internet tutorials. In seconds, Marinette’s locker swings open, presenting its secrets like a chest of pirate treasure.

The inside of the door is wallpapered with photos of Adrien—expected, if gross—and also one or two of Chat Noir, which is downright offensive. The inside of the locker doesn’t have much in it—a few books, a bag, things Lila could steal to give Mari a fright but nothing in particular she could use to ruin her. A missed or redone assignment or two is nothing.

Lila sighs, flips open Marinette’s custom pink briefcase/backpack thing. There has to be something...

That’s—that’s a phone. She just... left her phone in her locker?

Lila lifts the smartphone gingerly out of the bag, cups it between her hands. It has a Ladybug appliqué on the back, which is surprising, she never took Dupain-Cheng for the type. Still, she can’t believe her luck—she can wreak so much havoc with this.

“Say goodbye to your friends, Cheng,” she says, leaning forward to breathe on the screen. The fingerprints for the passcode show up, swirling gaps in the clouds of condensation, and Lila grins. “Who should I message first?”

*

Adrien lunges, and the tip of his blade slams into his opponent’s torso, the scoring machine lighting up red behind him with a honking buzz. Alya leaps to her feet. “GO SUNSHINE!”

Adrien twists to look at her, and at Mari (who is currently attempting to hide behind her), and he salutes with two fingers.

“TAKE HIM OUT!” Alya screams, holding up a fist, and Adrien jerks backward in surprise. Alya smirks. What kind of friend would she be if she didn’t mock him a little bit?

“That’s... not how this works, Alya!” Marinette squeaks, tugging on her arm, yanking her back into her seat.

“I know,” Alya replies. “But did you see the look on his face?”

Marinette tilts her head and raises an eyebrow.

Alya laughs. “Okay, poor choice of words,” she says, turning back to look at the fencers—all of whom are wearing helmets that completely obscure their faces. Still, she imagines that Adrien’s expression was hilarious, and damn, she wishes she could’ve gotten a picture.

As if reading her mind, her phone buzzes a text notification.

She looks down, confused. Who’s texting her right now? She’s busy—everyone she knows knows not to text her unless it’s about an Akuma, and if it’s a family emergency she’d be getting a call, not a text.

She reaches into the pocket she’d had Marinette add to her jeans and yanks the phone out, turning it as she pulls so the case won’t catch on the denim, then taps the side button to pull up the text. Two more arrive as she does:

Adrien: hey Alya

Adrien: uh

Adrien: I’m not sure I can be friends with you anymore

...What.

Alya looks up. Adrien is... definitely currently on the gym floor, determinedly brushing aside his opponent’s sword. There is no way he even has his phone on him, much less is texting her right now.

Alya: what do you mean?

Adrien: it’s just

Adrien: it’s impossible to get you to listen to me anymore

Alya blinks, glances back up—buzzer honk, Adrien just won the point. Or, apparently not, there’s a technicality, something about right of way. Any other time she’d have asked Mari to explain, but right now she looks back at her phone. What the fuck?

Alya: what are you talking about?

Adrien: with Lila! You refuse to listen that she’s lying to you

Adrien: and you keep dumping stuff on me when you KNOW I have no free time

Alya: Wait what

Adrien: and pushing me into talking to Adrien when I’m clearly not ready!

Alya: back up please

Adrien: I mean seriously when’s the last time you did anything for me without forcing me into it

Alya: Mari???

Adrien: ALYA PLEASE JUST LISTEN

Alya glances to her right, and there’s Marinette, 100% not holding or even looking at a phone—she’s too busy watching... ah, her eyes are locked on Adrien’s patoot.

She jostles Marinette with her shoulder. “Hey, Mari?”

“Hmm?” Marinette says. She seems to be fugueing a little—her eyes haven’t left Adrien’s rippling glutes.

“Do you know where Adrien’s phone is?” Alya whispers.

Marinette’s gaze immediately snaps away from Adrien, and she shrinks, clasps her hands between her legs. “Um.”

Alya raises an eyebrow.

“It’s... it’s in my locker,” Marinette mumbles, staring at her hands with reddened cheeks. She blinks upwards. “I swear I was—I was gonna give it back!” She squeezes her elbows together and sigh, looking back at her feet. “...Well, after it finished defragging.”

Another buzzer honk from down below, but Alya isn’t even paying attention to that now. Instead, she smirks, clutching Marinette’s forearm. “It’s okay,” Alya says. “He’s gonna be flattered, remember?”

Marinette closes her eyes and nods. She’s clearly still feeling guilty about it, but her body loosens a little.

“But,” Alya continues, holding out her phone, “you need to see this.”

Adrien: I’ve tried to be your friend, Alya, I’ve really tried

Adrien: but what’s even the point anymore?

Adrien: the pics for my website are terrible, I had to hire a professional to fix them

Adrien: like

Adrien: do the readers of the tabloid you call a blog even CARE about quality?

“Adrien is sending this?” Marinette shrieks, launching to her feet.

The entire stands turn to look at her, and Adrien stumbles, his opponent’s sword striking him in the chest. Buzzer honk.

Marinette flushes to “not-breathing-purple,” her eyes nearly popping out of her skull, and she drops back to her seat, cradling Alya’s phone with her hands. Then she looks down, sees Adrien on the gym floor. “That...” Her eyes narrow. “What.”

“I think whoever’s sending this,” Alya says, taking the phone back as everyone returns to watching the match, “is pretending to be you.”

Adrien: I think it’s best if we don’t talk anymore

Adrien: block my number and don’t come back to the bakery again

Adrien: please don’t approach me at school either

Adrien: I’m sorry

Adrien: but I think this is for the best

Alya: ...okay. If you’re sure.

Adrien: I am

Marinette’s face steels and she pops open her purse, pulling out her phone. In a single second, she’s transformed from nervous wreck into Everyday Ladybug, and she has a plan.

“What are you doing?” Alya says.

“Texting everyone in the class,” Marinette says, not looking up.

Alya’s phone dings.

Marinette to Group Chat: someone stole Adrien’s phone and is pretending to be me. They’re gonna say a whole bunch of mean things. Don’t believe them.

Alya grins, locking her phone and forcing it back into her pocket. “Attagirl,” she says, then tilts her head. “Um...”

Marinette’s eyes flick up. “Yeah?”

Alya swallows. Most of what the thief had sent was clearly precisely targeted lies, but... “Have I been... pushing you too much? With Adrien?”

Marinette’s face falls, and Alya knows the answer.

*

Lila giggles as she sends the last message to Alya. Marinette’s relationship with her is wrecked, unrecoverable, and she can’t wait to see the fallout.

She scrolls through the phone contacts, looking for Adrien, but there’s no number there. “God, is she that much of a coward that she never even got his number?” she hisses. Inconvenient—infuriating.

Okay, next. Randomize maybe? She slides her thumb across the contacts list, letting it roll past, then stops randomly.

Hmm. Father? Oddly formal for Marinette, but still an opportunity. Lila grins wickedly beginning to plan a message for Marinette’s dad.

KleptoMariac Archive

Enjoy my fic? Buy me a coffee!

[marjanefan]

‘Dead Line’ and ghosts in the machine

This review will contain extensive spoilers for the episode (and A Quiet Night In) so only continue if you have watched the episode. It also contains spoilers for ‘The League of Gentlemen’s Apocalypse’

Along with ‘The Twelve days of Christine’ ‘Deadline’ is one of the most discussed and analysed episodes of ‘Inside no.9’ with numerous vlogs and blogs dedicated to it. There are even several affectionate pastiches on Youtube. There is much in the episode that is worth discussing so I hope I can bring something interesting to analysing this astonishing episode.

I will be referring to both Stuart Hardy’s (Stubagful) and Inside an Mind’s vlogs about this episode so and the Q and A with Barbara Wiltshire (who directed the episode), Adam Tandy, Steve Pemberton and Reece Shearsmith at the BFI in April 2019 here are links to.

Stubagful’s review

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TrlU9jaMP2k

Inside a Mind Analysis

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AUN6zqCHh18&t=58s

BFI event

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K4RgjPJKNkI

Both Stuart Hardy and Inside a Mind explore the importance of experiencing this episode as a live experience on October 28th 2018 (the date of broadcast). As someone who did watch it live all the way through on broadcast I can confirm that it was a very rewarding experience to watch live that could never be replicated. There has also been considerable analysis of how Pemberton and Shearsmith utilised the process of pre broadcast publicity (such as their interview on the One show a few days before broadcast) to set up the misdirection and theme of the episode. However this is an episode that stands up to repeated viewings (as does every episode of Inside No. 9). The episode can be enjoyed as a ghost story with a very modern sensibility and as a meta commentary on the nature of television. There is an underlying message that allows this episode to retain its power.

The very title of ‘Dead line’ hints at obsolesce and broken down technology and communication. Under the surface of both the Arthur Flitwick storyline and the actual story of the episode we see the voices of the dead come back to avenge themselves on the living who have failed to respect them. You ignore them at your peril. /p>

The ostensible story of ‘Deadline’ -Arthur Flitwick’s fateful finding of a mobile phone is worth looking at in more depth. The story is run through with references to aging and mortality. Arthur lives alone in what may be either a retirement community or sheltered housing for older people. The classical music radio station he listens to aims its adverts at older people. We see Arthur get annoyed at a radio advert for a will writing service yelling ‘We’re not all one foot in the grave!’ (possibly a reference to the long running BBC TV series). Moira refers to the fact that Elsie and herself are apparently widows. It is worth noting that Stephanie Cole who plays Moira is well known for playing Diana Trent in the long running comedy series ‘Waiting for God’ which was set in a retirement home. Arthur and Moira are dealing with the fact that they are nearing the end of their lives and the particular forms of loneliness that affect the elderly. Arthur’s eventual breakdown and murder of Rev. Neil reflects his anxiety about the intentions of younger people toward him and his generation and his isolation(it says something that he choses to befriend a ‘ghost’). This also links this plotline to the main plotline as like Arthur, Alan Starr believed he was hearing the voices of the dead. This eventually drove him to suicide.

Rev. Neil is dealing with an ever aging and dwindling congregation. The physical disrepair of his church (referred in the second clip from the Arthur Flitwick story) symbolises this decline. (Is this also a comment on the decline of the influence of organised religion?) He makes a quip about his church always being on the lookout for ‘new blood’ which can be read as being about the graveyard where Elsie is buried. This links back to the main storyline of the episode being filmed in Granada studios which is apparently built on the site of a Victorian cemetery. (The ghosts recruit the ‘new blood’ of the unnamed continuity announcer, Stephanie Cole, Steve and Reece to their ranks).

One of the most interesting things for me about the ‘Arthur Flitwick’ section is the fact that the mobile phone Arthur finds is an old style Nokia phone. This type of mobile phone has been out of fashion for several years being overtaken by smart phones. This type of phone cannot be used to access the internet or online services such as TV streaming services. It could be a nod to a time where there were no streaming/catch up TV services and where social media was not prevalent. Television was experienced very differently and as Stuart Hardy noted in his review was more of a collective experience. ‘Dead line’ is almost a comment on what has been lost for audiences and those who work in television in the age of television on demand. The pleasure of watching a programme along with millions of others and being able to share simultaneous reactions (and not spoil the programme for others!) has been more or less lost.

The first reaction of Reece and Steve to the apparent break down of the show is to reach for their smart phones to try and find out what is going on. We see Reece moan he cannot connect to his smart phone via WIFI until Steve shows him the password (there is a joke about Stephanie Cole being able to connect to WIFI while Reece cannot). Steve uses his phone to research the history of Granada studios for clues as to what is happening. Reece uses his phone to check the reaction on Twitter, getting angry at people asking if ‘the breakdown’ is part of the twist (playing on his twitter persona). It is no accident that later in the episode Steve is so engrossed with his phone that he both fails to notice Stephanie kill herself on camera or ‘Alan’ advancing toward him in the mirror, commenting on the fact that people have become so engrossed at looking at their smart phones they ignore what is actually happening in front of them.

Steve gets Reece to post a tweet asking people if they are live on BBC Two at that moment. This tweet both proved that events were happening live and comments on the way that social media has changed how audiences interact with television shows and those involved with them. For better or worse platforms like Twitter has changed this permanently. Both Stuart Hardy (Stubagful) and Jamie (Inside a mind) discuss the importance of the Twitter reaction to the show in helping build the experience for the audience during broadcast. Steve Pemberton continued this, posting a photo of himself on Halloween itself looking none the worse for his adventure bar an apparently injured arm (from apparently being electrocuted duing the show)- however a 'ghost' seemed to still be following him! (he also joked if ghosts were going to take over the episode of 'The Apprentice' that was due to be broadcast that night)

https://twitter.com/SP1nightonly/status/1057690095996858368

Many people have discussed the influence of the 1992 drama ‘Ghostwatch’ on ‘Dead Line’. Pemberton and Shearsmith acknowledged its influence at the BFI screening of the episode. Ghostwatch was itself intended by its writer Stephen Volk as a commentary on the direction of television at the time, with the growth of docusoaps and reality TV, and how audiences perceived what was presented to them on TV. It made use of the methods of viewer interactivity of the day with its live broadcast/phone in format. There was a dedicated telephone line for viewers to call into (they were supposed to get a message that ‘Ghostwatch’ was a drama). This is echoed in ‘Dead line’s use of social media. ‘Ghostwatch’ itself references the past as it was in part inspired by the story of the Enfield Poltergeist and its coverage. Television programmes referencing back and paying tribute to earlier programmes is nothing new. It helps to build continuity and tradition in what is still a relatively new format, and helps to show that television can produce work that is lasting and worthwhile. Indeed ‘Dead Line’ helped to create interest for a new generation in ‘Ghost watch’.

Pemberton and Shearsmith decided to set ‘Dead line’ in Granada studios after researching alleged hauntings of the studio. This is referenced in the ‘Most Haunted’ episode that ‘Dead line’ includes clips from. Pemberton mentioned at the BFI that it was this episode that inspired the plot involving ‘Alan Starr’, the technician who killed himself after been haunted by the voices of the ghosts of Granada studios. The original plan had been to film the episode at Granada Studios itself but at the last minute this was not possible, so it was filmed at Maidstone Studios instead. The archive material included in the show is not just furthers the story of the apparent haunting but refers back to the studio’s important status in UK television. Granada Studios had been closed for a number of years before the filming of the episode. Even if it is not actually physically haunted, it is now a dead space which carries the memories of the programmes that were filmed there and the people who worked on them. The television industry may have physically moved on, but the programmes made there remain. I wonder if this was part of the appeal for Pemberton and Shearsmith in setting ‘Dead line’ there.

It was also not the first time that Pemberton and Shearsmith had used meta commentary or included themselves as characters in their own stories. They had of course both played themselves (or versions of themselves!) in ‘The League of Gentlemen’s Apocalypse’ film. At least one podcast noted this and how the ‘Reece’ and ‘Steve’ we see in ‘Dead line’ are similar to the ‘Reece’ and ‘Steve’ of the film. They have great fun in playing themselves as arrogant and self-centred. This is in part self-mocking and self-depreciating but also shows an awareness that in order to be successful in the entertainment industry you do require a certain level of self-confidence and self-centredness to get your vision realised. ‘The League of Gentlemen’s Apocalypse’ was an attempt by the various members of the League to explore the legacy of the League and what it meant to be the creators of this very specific world and characters at a point where they were beginning to develop their own separate careers away from the League. ‘Reece’ and ‘Steve’ die in ‘The League of Gentlemen’s Apocalypse’ as they do in ‘Dead Line’. This represents them acknowledging that the work and characters they have created have a life beyond them and that they will outlive them. The use of ‘A quiet night in’ in the episode also comments on how creators can recontextualise their work to give it a very different meaning. Indeed some fans of the show joke that they cannot watch ‘A quiet night in’ the same way since watching ‘Dead Line’.

As mentioned at the beginning, the episode has much to offer those who have not yet seen it beyond it being a ‘live’. It certainly got a great deal of publicity for the show with several UK newspapers discussing and praising the episode and complementing Pemberton and Shearsmith for how they pulled off the twist. Inside a Mind's analysis of the episode has had over three million views. WeeLin in her Youtube analysis suggests showing the episode to someone who has not seen it each Halloween. Reece Shearsmith still gets regularly asked on Twitter if the BBC has ‘fixed’ the apparent technical faults or if they plan to try and do the episode live again. There are still people who started watching the episode on October 28 2018 or who began watching on iplayer who stopped watching after ‘the breakdown’ who are discovering or yet to discover that they need to continue to watch beyond the ‘breakdown’ at nine minutes. People are also still discovering this episode. Steve Pemberton discusses how this is part of the narrative of the episode in the Q and A after the BFI screening. The number of affectionate homages to the episode that appeared on Youtube in the months after broadcast testify to the fact the episode has a very distinct feel and structure that makes it stand out. It has become one of the most acclaimed and beloved epsiodes of the series

[seriousbusinessforhumans]

NEW DELHI (IDN) – On February 6, protesters blocked roads at an estimated 10,000 spots across India as part of the ongoing movement against the new farm laws enacted by the national government last year. For over two months, the most populous democracy in the world has witnessed what is being called one of the biggest protests in human history.

Hundreds of thousands of farmers have been rallying against three new laws that have thrown open the agriculture sector to private players. Protesters feel the legislation will allow a corporate takeover of crop production and trading, which would eventually impact their earnings and land ownership.

The movement has overcome regional, religious, gender and ideological differences to build pressure. Leftist farm unions, religious organisations and traditional caste-based brotherhoods called khaps, which make pronouncements on social issues, are working in tandem through resolute sit-ins and an aggressive boycott of politicians.

India’s right-wing government led by Prime Minister Narendra Modi of the Bharatiya Janata Party, or BJP, pushed the laws through the parliament in September 2020, despite lacking a majority in the upper house and agriculture being in the jurisdiction of state governments. The protest is a response to the lack of respect for parliamentary democracy and federalism, but its main focus is the pervasive corporate influence on governance.

After limits on corporate contributions were removed and allowed to be made anonymously, 8.2 billion dollars was spent on Indian parliamentary elections in 2019, which exceeded how much was spent on the U.S. election in 2016 by 26 per cent. Most of this money came from corporations and the BJP was the primary recipient.

Farm crisis is the fuel

Farmers are a large electoral block in India, with half the population being engaged in agriculture. No political party can afford to offend them publicly even though policymakers have done little to increase farm incomes and address their indebtedness. Around 300,000 farmers died by suicide between 1995 and 2013, mostly due to financial stress. In 2019, another 10,281 farmers took their lives.

Indian farms are mostly family-owned, and the land is a source of subsistence for millions. Around 86 per cent of farmers, however, till less than five acres while the other 14 per cent, mostly upper castes, own over half of the country’s 388 million acres of arable land.

Farmers in a few north Indian states were able to consolidate their holdings through increased incomes with the introduction of irrigation, modern seeds, fertilisers, machines, market infrastructure and guaranteed price support from the government during the Green Revolution in the 1960s.

But rising input costs and climate crisis have adversely impacted the profits there as well. In Punjab, the most agriculturally-developed state, for instance, the input costs of electric motors, labour, fertiliser and fuel rose by 100 to 290 per cent from 2000 to 2013, but the support price of wheat and rice rose by only 122 to 137 per cent in the same period, according to a government report. Heavy use of chemicals, mono-cropping and farm mechanisation have damaged the soil, affecting productivity and forcing farmers into debt.

Strength and strategy

Punjab saw widespread protests as soon as the laws were enacted. Farmers occupied railway tracks and toll plazas on major roads besides corporate-owned thermal plants, gas stations and shopping malls. Scores of subscribers left Jio, the telecom service owned by the top Indian businessman perceived to be close to Prime Minister Modi.

Farm unions also held regular sit-ins in front of the houses of prominent political leaders forcing an important regional party to leave the national government alliance. Several state leaders of the ruling party resigned from their posts as well. Similar scenes played out in the neighbouring state of Haryana, where leaders were publicly shamed and the helicopter of the elected head of the government was prevented from landing for a public meeting after farmers dug up the helipad area.

In November, thousands of farmers drove their tractor trolleys towards the national capital as they played protest songs by celebrity singers. Stocked with rations, clothing, water and wood for months, they braved tear gas shells and water cannons used by the police along the way. Powerful tractors pushed heavy transport vehicles, concrete slabs and barbed wires that the administration had placed en route out of their way.

Open libraries and medical camps were set up and volunteers offered their skills, ranging from tailoring to tutoring children. Besides speeches by the farm leaders, cultural performances, film screenings and wrestling bouts became a regular feature. More farmers poured in with each passing day.

“These occupations are not just a reaction of wronged citizens who have set out to reform the Indian parliament or assert dissent. Rather, they form an important stage in a still-unfolding narrative of militant anti-capitalist struggle,” wrote Aditya Bahl, a doctoral scholar at the John Hopkins University who is archiving the peasants’ revolts that took place in Punjab in the 1960s and ’70s.

The Indian Supreme Court suspended the implementation of laws and formed a four-member expert committee on Jan. 13 to look into the issue. Farmers have, however, refused to meet the committee members, alleging that many of them have already written or spoken in favour of the laws.

The protests are not only targeting domestic companies and political figures. Farmers have also burnt effigies of Uncle Sam, the World Trade Organisation and IMF, signifying the influence of global trade over domestic agricultural policies. Developed countries have been pressuring India for last three decades to open up its agriculture sector to multinational players by slashing subsidies and reducing public procurement and distribution of food grains to the poor.

Protesters are also seeking a legal right to sell their produce at a guaranteed price. The Indian government usually declares a minimum support price on various crops based on the costs of their production, but only a fraction of the produce is procured at that rate. In the absence of government procurement facilities in their areas, most farmers have to settle for a lower price offered by private traders. A law would make it mandatory for private players to buy the produce at a declared price.

“If Indian farmers are able to get the law on guaranteed price passed through their current agitation, they will become a role model for farmers across the world living under heavy debts,” Sharma continued. “India should put its foot down at the WTO and create much-needed disruption in the world food trade policy for the benefit of the global agriculture sector.”

The movement grows

The BJP-led national government has faced numerous protests over the last six years of its rule..... The country has dropped 26 places in the Democracy Index’s global ranking since 2014 due to “erosion of civil liberties.”

This is the first time peasants have been galvanised in such large numbers against the government. The government has already held 11 rounds of negotiations with farmers’ representatives and offered to suspend the laws for one and a half years on Jan. 20. But farmers are not budging from their demand of the complete repeal of the laws and legal cover for the selling of their crops at a guaranteed price.

On January 26, which marks India’s Republic Day, 19 out of 28 states witnessed protests against the farm laws.

In Delhi, however, a plan to organise a farmers’ tractor march parallel to the official Republic Day function, went awry. A group of protesters clashed with police at multiple spots and stormed the iconic Red Fort, a traditional seat of power for the Mughals, where the colonial British and independent India’s prime ministers have also raised their flags.

The protesters unfurled banners of the farm unions and Sikhs – one of the minority religious groups and the most prominent face of the protests. Mainstream media and ruling party supporters used the opportunity to blame the movement for desecration and religious terrorism. Security forces charged sleeping farmers with batons at one location, filed cases against movement leaders, allowed opponents to pelt campaigners with stones, arrested journalists and shut down the Internet.

The attacks, therefore, ended up lifting the flagging morale of the farmers and helped the movement gain even more supporters, who shunned the government and media narrative. Massive community gatherings of khaps were organised at multiple places over the next few days, extending their support to the protests and issuing a boycott call for the BJP and its political allies.

Mending fault lines

The movement has also been able to overcome regional and gender divisions, and is trying to address caste divides.

The states of Haryana and Punjab are often at loggerheads on the issue of sharing of river waters. Haryana was carved out of Punjab on linguistic lines in 1966, but most of the rivers flow through the current Punjab state. Haryana has been seeking a greater amount of water for use by its farmers, while Punjab’s farmers oppose the demand, citing reduced water flow in the rivers over the years. The current protests have united farmers for a common cause, helping them understand each other even though opponents have made attempts revive the water issue.

Women have also been participating in the protests in large numbers. They are either occupying roads on Delhi’s borders or managing homes and farms in the absence of men, while taking part in protest marches in villages.

“Earlier, we were able to rally only 8,000-10,000 women for a protest. Today that number has swelled to 25,000-30,000, as they recognised the threats posed by the new laws to the livelihoods of their families,” said Harinder Bindu, who leads the women’s wing of the largest farm union in Punjab. “For many women, this is the first time they are participating in a protest, which is a big change because they were earlier confined to household work. Men are getting used to seeing women participate and recognising the value they bring to a movement.”

“When women members participate in sit-ins, men manage the house. I feel this movement will bring greater focus on women’s issues within the farming community – one of which is the need to support the widows of farmers who died by suicide due to financial constraints.”

In Punjab, less than four per cent of private farmland belongs to Dalits, the lowest caste in the traditional social hierarchy of India, even though they constitute 32 per cent of the state’s population. They often earn their livelihoods through farm work or daily wage labour. Even though Dalits have a legal right to till village common land, attempts to assert that right often lead to violent clashes with upper-caste landlords who want to keep it for themselves. Dalits are waging similar battles across India. Researchers recorded 31 land conflicts involving 92,000 Dalits in 2019. A few of the farmers’ unions have supported and raised funds for Dalit agitations in the past.

The movement is gradually encompassing other rural issues beyond the farm laws. In the state of Maharashtra, for instance, thousands of tribal people travelled to the capital Mumbai on Jan. 23 to extend support to the farmers. They also asserted their own long pending demand for land titles under the Forest Rights Act, which recognises traditional rights of scheduled tribes and other forest dwellers on the use of land and other forest resources.

* Manu Moudgil is an independent journalist based in India. He tweets at @manumoudgil.The original version of this article was published on Waging Nonviolence under the title ‘India’s farmers’ protests are about more than reform – they are resisting the corporate takeover of agriculture’.

[vin-taege]

low expectations | 2

summary: after disappearing for six years to pursue law, you come back to Seoul, only to be hired by Jeon Jungkook, tattoo artist on the rise, and your high school ex

genre: angst, eventual smut, l2e2l (lovers to enemies [kinda?] to lovers)

pairing: tattoo artist!jungkook x lawyer!reader

words: 4 600+

The clock read 3:35 am. You were up all night researching about the rival tattoo shop, Soliloquy. So far, there were only page advertisements and a ton of articles gushing about the shop. But "Seoul Ink" was also almost in every article - a "threat” to the long-running business, as the media would say. They had little to no detail too, and after a while, they all seemed to be saying the same thing. So you decided to shift gears and search more on Jung Minho himself. Not much was known of him, not even his educational background. Trivial things like height, weight, and age were listed. There were a few pages dedicated to fawning over him, seeing as he Was undeniably attractive. He looked just about Namjoon's age, striking cheekbones and a pierced tongue he'd often flash at the camera. You sighed, ready to give up. You've been clicking every link you came across, and Namjoon wasn't done with the suspect profile yet. The coffee you made had grown cold and your wrists had also started to ache. You were already on the 5th page of Google. You were desperate. Just as you were going to shut down your laptop,  Jungkook's words echoed in your mind, "I'm finally doing something I love." You shook your head, willing yourself to stay awake just a little longer. In a last attempt, you skimmed over a few more links until one caught your eye. "Gwangju Rapper Under Fire for Drug Scandal" 

You sat up, suddenly wide awake. The article was from four years ago, but you didn't know if the source was trustworthy. It was a news archive, and the web design was a little off, making you doubt its legitimacy. You read it, nonetheless, and picked up a lot of crucial information. Why in the world would this even show up in Jung Minho's search results? You clicked the picture of the rapper, a shiver running down your spine with the striking similarities he had with the Soliloqy head. Coincidentally, the rapper's career ended just a month before the first Soliloqy branch was built. You bookmarked the tab, and thought of calling Namjoon. However, another glance at the clock told you he was probably fast asleep by now, and you didn't want to wretch him away from his rest. Speaking of sleep, your eyes were already starting to droop. Maybe it was better to deal with everything tomorrow. It was still your month off anyway. °°° 6 years ago There was a loud knock on your window, waking you from your slumber. Your head had been buried in printer paper, what would be half of your book report on the novel "Animal Farm." It has only been three days since your mother began her temporary stay at your father's house, but she's already become unbearably pushy when it came to your studies. She was only staying for a week, but that was four days too long for you. You could still hear the knocking, but you were too sleepy to respond. Until it got louder. Lifting your head off your desk, you squinted at the window, the lamp light piercing your eyes. Your vision adjusted until you could make out a mope of brown hair pressed against the window pane. You rubbed your eyes, hurriedly getting up from your chair to open the window. "What are you doing here?" Your voice was still groggy from sleeping. The second you got a closer look at him, your heart stopped. The stench of alcohol was on his breath, and he was sweating like he ran a marathon. To top it all off, he was crying. He stumbled into your room, half walking, half getting carried by you and plopped down onto the bed. Sprawled over the covers, he let out a throaty groan, quickly getting hushed by you. "Jungkook! Don't be so loud!" you hissed. "What are you doing here?" He cracked open an eye, lazily tilting his head up to look at you. Suddenly, he smiled, hugging you and pulling you down with him. Your cheek was squished against his chest, his arms squeezing your torso. "My honey, baby, love of my life, sweetheart, darling." You tried pushing him off, initially disgusted by the overpowering scent of alcohol. Jungkook was oblivious to your discomfort, only beginning to sob harder. Hearing his cries, you stopped struggling, sliding your hands up to curl around his neck instead. You laid there, waiting for him to calm down. It was silent for a moment before his voice broke through the dead air. "I don't think I'm going to college." He took a shaky breath. "I got into an argument with my dad. I told him I didn't want to go to med school. I told him I'd hate it there. He- he kicked me out. My mom didn't even care." Your heart started to pound along with his. Oh no. No. Your mother already dreaded him because he was planning to be an art student, but now that he would possibly drop out, you knew she'd never approve. It would be unacceptable for her. Not only that, but what would happen to Jungkook now? What about your future? "What do you mean you got kicked out?" you said in a small voice. He gently nudged you off him so he could sit up. He began fiddling with his thumbs. "I don't have anywhere else to go. I don't have any money. ___, I'm so sorry. I'm such a fucking failure. Fuck!" He slammed his hands down on the bed, the springs squeaking. You flinched, the sudden aggression scaring you.. "Jungkook, stop. You're drunk." "I broke a fucking vending machine," he mumbled as if it was an afterthought. “I didn’t have money for beer.” "You what?!" you hit his shoulder, making him curse out, more of in surprise rather than pain. "Do you know how illegal that is, Jeon? You get kicked out and the first thing you do is commit a crime?" "Well, what do you expect me to do?! We don't all have perfect lives, ___. I went here and I thought you could kiss the pain away or some shit, and you're gonna fucking lecture me about street etiquette?" he scoffed. "Why are you so up your ass sometimes?" "Sometimes I don't know why you just can't manage to get your shit together. I want to support you, Kook, I really do. But sometimes you're just so fucking impulsive!" you didn't even realized you had raised your voice. Jungkook was staring at you with wide eyes, jaw clenched. You thought he was going to retort, maybe even scream back at you, but he remained silent. Unshed tears welled at the corners of his eyes. He wiped them with the back of his hand, swiftly standing. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have come here." He moved towards your window, a leg raised up, ready to leave. You grabbed him by the forearm, tugging him back. "Wait, I'm sorry. Kookie, I'm sorry. I didn't mean what I said." You hugged him from the back, ignoring the sweat sticking to his shirt. "We're gonna get through this, okay? You still have me. You still have Tae. I'm sure you can work something out with your brother. But stay with me for now, okay?" Slowly, he leaned forward and shut the window. He let you lead him back to the bed, not even bothering to shower with how tired he was. Without another word, he curled up next to you, trying to fall asleep. On sleepless nights, you'd call him on the phone and he'd sing for you. This time, even though your voice couldn't hold a candle to his, you returned the favor, not stopping until you heard his calm, deep breaths. °°°

"So you're telling me-" Namjoon paused, stirring his cup of coffee. He had come early today to help you unpack, while also going over the case. "That rapper and the Jung Minho may or may not be the same person?" "They almost look exactly like each other." You turned the laptop over to him, bringing up the picture. His eyes widened, spoon hovering just above the coffee. "Don't you think it's kinda fishy our probable suspect, who may I add, planted drugs in the ink refills, looks exactly like this rapper from four years ago who got caught in a drug scandal?" Namjoon shrugged. He leaned over the kitchen counter and read the article, eye brows furrowing further after each line. "Honestly, that is weird. Hm. But you know what's weirder? You reaching the sixth page of Google."

You glared at him, continuing to unpack your kitchen utensils. "Excuse me, but I am dedicated to my job." "You mean dedicated to your ex?" you sputtered, almost dropping the knife holder. Namjoon smirked at you. "I've been talking to Jimin, and he told me some really interesting stuff." Of course it was Jimin. That man was too charismatic for his own good. "Please don't remind me." Namjoon took a sip of his coffee, grimacing when it burnt his tongue. He made his way to the sink and gargle some water, sighing when it somewhat relieved the pain. "___, you could've told me, you know? I mean, we could've averted this whole thing if that's what you wanted." "No, Joon. It's okay, I don't regret taking this case. And I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier. I guess I just don't like talking about it much," Namjoon looked at you, saw how tired you looked. Both physically and emotionally. "Come here," he opened his arms, and you gladly hugged him. His scent was welcoming, like that of new books mixed with citrus from the scented hand sanitizer he kept in his bag. "I think you need more hugs and less work." "Joon, I think I want to get my ex back," you mumbled into his sweater. You heard him sigh before letting you go. "As your assistant, I'd say this is probably a bad decision. As your best friend, I'd say this is definitely a bad decision but do what you think will make you happy." You ate breakfast quickly, eager to dive into the article more, even though you had already read it multiple times. Nostalgia hit you - it felt like it was a thesis night again, you and Namjoon scouring every corner of the Internet just to fill the Related Studies part. Ironically, a cheetos bowl was by the laptop, reminiscent of your college days. The rapper's stage name was a lead in itself, however he seems to be off the grid. The only other pictures left of him were blurry ones taken from afar. All of his music wasn't uploaded on the Internet, save for pictures of the CD cover. It was so suspicious how underground he was. Namjoon bookmarked the pages and copy-pasted all the needed pictures and information. It was a bit of a stretch, but so far, it was the only connection you could make with Jung. After a while, Namjoon cracked his knuckles and faced you. "I know this is pretty random, but can you come with me to the tattoo shop today?" "Why? I thought we couldn't get an interview today because they were booked. Did all their clients simultaneously agree to ditch their appointments?" "No," he laughed. "I'm getting a tattoo." You almost spit your coffee out. You looked at him, waiting for him to burst out laughing and tell you it was a joke - but he never did. "What do you mean you're getting a tattoo? Aren't we forbidden to get those?" "Wrong again. We could, but just somewhere we could hide it. I'm getting it on my inner forearm." It was the perfect spot, especially since he owns an abundance of long-sleeved tops. "And you're getting this because...?" "Because I’ve actually been thinking of getting a tattoo since last year. And I've been needing a break from being so... upright and formal" You didn't press for a further explanation. The whole “professional lawyer thing really was tiring. "Welcome to Seoul Ink, home of the best ink!" Jimin's cheerful voice greeted you. The pink lighting was turned off, letting the sunlight shine through the glass. The music playing was softer this time, matching the calm afternoon vibe. "Hi Namjoon! Hi, ___!" He wiggled his eyebrows when he greeted you, making your roll your eyes. Namjoon headed directly toward the designs placed on the walls, quickly spotting the one he was staring at yesterday. "How much for this one?" "30 000 won. Discounted, just for you," Jimin stood next to Namjoon. "Could be done in under thirty minutes. Are you walk-in, or would you want to place a schedule?" "Walk-in." "Shit. Would you mind waiting for a bit? The next open spot is," He checked his phone, before looking back at the taller male. "-in five hours." Namjoon sighed, face dropping - when suddenly, Jimin's phone beeped and his eyes lit up. "Actually, you're in luck. Tae's client cancelled last minute." As if on cue, Taehyung walked out from behind the hallway curtain. Your eyes almost popped out of their sockets seeing how much he's changed. His hair was colored blue, in contrast to Jimin's. He had full sleeves, and a small butterfly tattoo just under his jawline, by the side of his neck. The bandana he was wearing held his hair back, giving you a good look of the multiple piercings on his left ear, not to mention the one on his lip. "___?" Before you could reply, he was already running towards you, pulling you in for a tight hug. You chuckled hugging him back, always so affectionate even back the. You could feel the muscle he has gained, compared to his lanky built back in high school. “I didn't believe Jungkook at first, but wow! You look great!" "Tae," Jimin snapped his fingers, gaining Taehyung's attention. "Hyunjin backed out, but you've got a new client. Rosehead design. Tatt virgin so go easy on him."

“Why did no one tell me ___ was gonna be our lawyer?”

“I did. I told you four times, Taehyung,” Jimin rubbed his temples. His words fell on deaf ears, Taehyung still mesmerized by the mere sight of you. Six years ago, he never would’ve thought he’d see you again, but here you were. Fate had a way of bringing people together.

“Are you getting one too?” His voice was deeper, as if it wasn’t already deep before. You were relieved to find out he was more than welcoming to you, even after what you made him do. You shook your head. “Just Namjoon hyung then.”

Taehyung led you into his work room, the door of it being the one bombarded with polaroids and fairy lights. You never got the chance to look at the pictures, and now that you did, your eyes were immediately drawn to one near the upper left. 

It was an old one, dating way back to high school. You knew because you were in it - face lit up with a bright smile, mid-laugh. Sitting next to you was Jungkook, mirroring your happy expression as he held a barbecue stick up. You recognized it from your prom night. Jungkook didn’t have enough money to rent a suit, making him pass on prom. You and Taehyung decided to ditch it, having a small barbecue party in his backyard instead.

You sensed someone staring at you, and turned your head to find Taehyung. He was startled, sending you a goofy expression afterwards.

Namjoon sat on the soft reclining chair, trying his best to make himself comfortable. Taehyung was humming as he did the preliminaries; getting the design ready and sterilizing the needles to be used, including turning on a lamp with normal lighting so he could see better. “I have some bubblegum in case you want some. It serves as a pain outlet.”

He handed you a small bowl full of gumballs, then continued to prep the tools and Namjoon. The older of the two boys shoved in two gumballs, jittery even before the procedure began. 

“You didn’t take any energy drinks or coffee before this, right?” Taehyung rubbed Namjoon’s inner forearm with a cloth dipped in alcohol. He paled, eyes widening, “Am I not supposed to?”

Taehyung clicked his tongue. “That’s why you’re so nervous. Well, this is just a flash tattoo. No color, easy lineart. It’s going to be a walk in the park!” He smacked Namjoon on the shoulder a little too hard, making him yelp.

“Tae, Jimin said go easy,” you murmured, though you still got your phone out. Namjoon’s reaction while getting his first tattoo was too hilarious to no film. 

“I will,” he plugged the cord into an outlet, the tattoo gun roaring to life. “Okay, lawyer hyung, I need you to relax because this would only hurt more if you don’t.”

Twenty minutes in, and you were positive Namjoon had cried out for his mother exactly thirty times so far. A thick wad of chewed up bubblegum was in his mouth, and it was only getting bigger. Taehyung on the other hand, was fully composed, eyebrows knit in concentration. 

You tried talking to Namjoon to ease the pain, but he either couldn’t form a coherent response, or wasn’t listening to you altogether. Presently, his eyes were screwed shut as he fiercely rapped along to an Eminem song playing in the background. 

“I missed you. He missed you too. A lot,” You almost didn’t catch Taehyung say it. His eyes were still on his work, but he continued. “I still feel bad for doing it, but I couldn’t chose sides. You’re both my best friends.”

You shot a worried glance at Namjoon. Although Taehyung wasn’t looking at you, he spoke again, “Don’t worry. His nerves are making this more painful than it actually is, and he’s so far into the pain he probably won’t even recall us talking.”

You cleared your throat. “Are you mad at me?”

Taehyung chuckled, pausing to lightly shake his head. “I could understand why you did it. I genuinely am happy for how far you’ve come.”

“Is he...?” you trailed off, scared to know the answer. You didn’t have to say his name for Taehyung to know who you were referring to.

“He’s sad. Bitter, I think? I guess he thought it was a good idea to channel all that sadness into anger. You know how he is,” he sighed. “He still loves you though.”

His words made you freeze. He cracked his neck, soft brown eyes looking back at you, before going back to his work. “Did you know the main thing that motivated him so much was you? It was always you he talked about. He always said he wanted to prove himself to you.”

“He doesn’t need to do that.”

“I know. I kept telling him that, but I think it would be better if you did.” Taehyung worked in silence, save for Namjoon’s garbled rapping and the buzz of the tattoo gun. From time to time, he’d encourage Namjoon with an “Almost there!” or “You’re doing well, hyung!”, but Namjoon tuned everything out. He really was too into his head.

“Tae, I still love him,” you rushed out. The younger boy raised an eyebrow. “And?”

“And I want him back,” He smirked, turning the gun off. He clasped his hands loudly, making Namjoon jump lightly from his seat. “Break time!”

Namjoon melted into the chair, letting out a long, trembling breath. He was sweating all over, quickly slipping into a nap after muttering a silent, “I think I’ll rest for a bit.”

“I mean,” Taehyung’s voice rang once more. He snapped his gloves off, throwing them in the garbage bin “He hasn’t dated anyone else ever since. I got him really stone drunk once, and he kept crying about how much he missed you.”

“You’re telling me this because?”

“Because I hate seeing both my best friends miserable?” he shrugged. “Get some air, look at some of the designs outside. I think Namjoon hyung isn’t the only one under extreme stress today.”

The other designs plastered on the walls were all unique in their own way. You got why Jungkook’s shop was so popular - it almost transported you to another dimension. The care and detail he put into the shop was amazing, exactly the way he used to describe it. 

The entire six years you went away, he never left your mind. The idea of getting it over with, of coming back to him, kept you going. But after graduation, after becoming one of the most sought-after lawyers even in your age, fear started to slowly cripple you.

A lot of “what if’s” disheartened you. Most of all, shame. You couldn’t face him after what you’ve done.

“Hey.”

You flinched, startled by Jungkook’s suddenly standing next to you. “You thinking of getting one too?”

“No. Not today, at least,” You were both looking at the designs without really paying attention to them. The feeling of being next to each other without actively addressing each other’s presence was weirdly comforting. You were waiting for each other to make the next move, both too nervous to start, until you did. “I missed the food here. Remember that cheap ramen shop just outside our school? Mrs. Park was a nagger, but nothing could ever beat her cooking.”

To you surprise, he laughed - something you haven’t heard in ages. You were glad to make him smile again, even if it was just for a little while. “Man, none of the ramen shops here could ever beat Mrs. Park’s. It’s what’s tasty in Busan.”

“Speaking of Busan, Jimin’s actually from there too. No offense to Tae, but at least someone here could get the dialect.”

“Hey, don’t be too mean. Remember when he cried about missing Daegu the night before finals?”

“Ah, shit. I was so stressed out, like, what the fuck do I do? I want to comfort him, but I also want to not get kicked out of school. But looking back at it, I knew I was gonna fail with or without reviewing, so.” You laughed, hitting him lightly. Whenever he smiled, he really didn’t look any different from the Jungkook six years ago.

“How did it feel like moving to Seoul?”

“I was a bit nervous at first. Scared. I was no one, just this kid from Busan moving into this city of opportunities, and at some point I felt like I was going to drown in them but never really take one? I was so scared of becoming the person my parents thought of me but-” he paused, smoothing out a design that was about to fall off. “Taehyung was with me. And I wasn’t just this scrawny Busan kid anymore. I was this Busan boy with this other Daegu boy, and we had stars in our eyes, which at that time, was enough to fill our empty wallets.”

“And I just lived in the moment. And I... I thought of... I thought of you.”

The dreadful silence came back. Before you could stop yourself, much less think about your next words, you blurted them out. “I wonder if things turned out differently.”

Jungkook tensed Just when you got him to open up, he retreated back into his shell. He crossed his arms, fists balled up. “That’s the thing, ___. They didn’t.”

“Don’t you want them to?”

“At some point I did,” you glanced at him, his stony expression never meeting yours. You wanted to grab his hand and tell him you were sorry, that you were going to make things right. “But you were six years too late.”

He walked away, disappearing back into his room. Defeated, you walked back into Taehyung’s, finding him already resuming his work with Namjoon. Your partner looked more relaxed, even able to hold a conversation now. “Oh, there you are!”

Namjoon waved at you with his free arm. “We were talking about a cafe meeting, just to lay out all the details to the other boys and possibly get more info.”

“Yeah, ___! I could pressure Jungkook to treat us out. I haven’t had a good croissant in weeks.” He wiped the tattoo with a cloth, revealing crisper lines, before bringing the tattoo gun back on the skin. “I miss eating bread.”

You thought of the idea, figured a simple lunchout wouldn’t hurt anyone. The two boys continued with their banter, but you tuned them out. Jungkook’s words ran through your mind, as well as the design he touched back then. It was a pinky promise outline. You remembered it being the exact one he used to draw on your notebooks back then. Before either of the two boys could say anything to you, you were on your way to Jungkook’s room, pushing the door open.

He looked at you, surprised, pencil in hand. You must’ve caught him mid-drawing. “I want it on my hip.”

Puzzled,he stared at you for a moment, wide eyes shifting from you to his sketchbook. “You want what?”

“The pinky swear,” you pointed to the space just above your hipbone. “I want it here.”

“You can’t just barge into my work room and demand for a tattoo service.” You stared him down, feet firmly planted on the ground. He knew you weren’t going to budge, and with an exasperated sigh, he motioned towards the tattoo chair. “Fuckin’ sit down.”

Just like Taehyung, he took his time to prep everything he needed. Open a new needle pack, sterilize your skin, even got the design ready. “Tatt virgin, knowing you, you probably drank coffee before this didn’t you? And you got this tattoo on a whim, huh?”

“Maybe,” you blushed.”Last minute decision.”

He raised an eyebrow. The familiar buzz of the tattoo gun filled the room, but he didn’t bring i close to you yet. “Hip tattoos tend to hurt. What made you want this one?”

“It’s our design. You kept it,” Your bluntness surprised him.He pressed his lips together, furrowing his eyebrows a bit. “It was a nice, minimalistic outline. Good for flash, easy to make. Me keeping it doesn’t mean anything.”

“Jeon, you are still so bad at lying,” you rolled your eyes. Under your confident mask, you were actually very anxious. You still didn’t know what your boundaries were. What if you were stepping over the line and he’d get pissed and give you a shitty tattoo? No, Jungkook wasn’t that petty.

“Jeon, you are still so bad at lying,” he mimicked you, pulling a face. He snickered, “See how annoying you sound? Oh my God, ___, you’re still a big nerd.”

“You begged me for formula cards back then, and you know it,” you stuck your tongue out. Smiling, he shook his head. A gloved hand wiped your hip with a rag faintly smelling of aseptic. He paused, giving the pattern on the skin a once-over. “This is gonna hurt.”

“It’ll hurt less,” you whispered. He gave you a questioning look. “Seriously, ___, this is near the bone. It will hurt like a bitch.”

“I know,” you shuffled in your seat. “I mean, it’ll hurt less because I know you’ll be the one doing it.”

You didn’t need him to reply, and he didn’t. However, you knew it wasn’t out of spite, or because you pushed a button. The hum of the tattoo gun got louder, a sharp pain on your hip bone. But seeing Jungkook smile the way he used to - like when he was still yours - provided more comfort than you could ever imagine. And that was enough for now.

[my-sherlock221b]

Speak the Truth--not mine, sharing from the link

https://speakthetruthj2.weebly.com/intro--start-here.html

"What we’ll do for each other, how far we’ll go, they’re using that against us"Everything from this site has been taken from the wonderful Speak The Truth on Storify-- HERE

Do you know your J2 history? The story of Jensen and Jared is an epic one. It is at first deceptively simple. But with a wider view, this seemingly small story tells a much larger, more universal one. In that way, it's also an important one. It's one that spans a time of unique change in American culture as social media tools grew, TV became King, fandom ways were integrated into public lexicon, HW powerhouses rose and fell, and a new hope for true equality in Obama's America supplanted the country's long history of intolerance. It's one that showcases how the role of PR can build over time to consume all levels of actors lives, even two guys who first set out to avoid exactly that. It's one that reveals the widening sphere of PR with the advent of social media, celeb blogs, and online fandoms. Fans are no longer immune to being used by PR as tools in the role of creating an illusion and selling an image. Only together in one place do cracks in the veneer and patterns of PR tactics suddenly emerge as the larger picture focuses into sharp view. It's also a story that I hope one day can be told in full by the people who lived it instead of mere spectators who watched from the cheaper seats and speculated from afar. However, human interest pieces begin with a subject. So here it is. I've been a fan of this show for eight long years. As someone with a "librarian mind", I have saved and documented a lot throughout that time, as have others who have helped me along the way. Supernatural, the TV series, I believe, speaks for itself. 160+ episodes have been produced, aired, and immortalized on DVD. However the larger story that encompasses the show, the actors, the crew, the fans, the HW machine, and the subject of its time, remains hidden if not completely erased from documented fan history. Yet it is one that has enraptured many (even those who won't quite publicly admit it). I believe that counts for something. In other fandoms, I am indebted to other fans who came before me who archived events as they occurred for other fans like myself who came along later. As I leave Supernatural fandom for good, I worry that these details, as we observed them, may be lost. There will be other fans, of the show and of the Js, that will come after me. They should know how it went down all those years ago. This here is merely my small act of scrawling on the cave wall of the internet. As far as I know, there exists no complete record of what a J2 fan has experienced in all the years of the show. So what follows is a timeline summarizing the events of all eight years of Supernatural surrounding its two lead co-stars. It's meant to serve as an J2 archive or library, detailing each event with a date, info, pics, tweets, article, links, videos, and quotes. Most of the focus is on J2 and the players around them, but it will cover show changes and larger HW shakeups in later years as it becomes necessary. If a tiny splash of "Time Capsule" feel snuck in, it's because we all have our experiences and sometimes they feel worth telling. There has been an incredible erasure of fan/show history the last couple years, an act that is rather ironic in a fandom built on the concept of urban legends coming to life. In its wake are attempts to rewrite J2 history. There are some people that have worked very hard to make sure this story is as inaccessible as possible to others. They'd rather see it replaced by their own "revisionist" history that best serves their own interests. But this stuff happened. Records of it are out there. Fans experienced it. And in many cases, J2 or other people directly connected to them responded to it. Denying said part of J2 fan history is disingenuous. Believe what you want to believe in the space between, but events that happened have happened. I know some people will not be happy I have put this together. I struggled with the thought myself. Ultimately, I believe their story in between the lines and cracks of this cobbled together timeline is endlessly iconic. It's a story that shouldn't be lost in the dust of internet time. Because its not just them, even though their unique relationship is quite remarkable. It's that their story has something to tell us all. We all have something to learn in the space in between. You read through the cracks of eight years, follow along detail by detail, and it however small allows you to step in their shoes, no matter who you are, or what you originally thought. Just think, how scared does someone have to be, how many pressures must be put on someone from all angles, your advisers, your bosses, your family, your friends, to agree to these measures over time. When an erasure of a genuine human story happens, we all lose. We, ourselves, as a culture lose. Progress loses. (And what are we here for, if not for progress?) That erasure robs us of that example to learn and grow, improve and teach others. Because no one's life is just their own. We all have a part to play in each others' lives. We all have things we can teach and things we can learn. That's never been more true than the global age of the internet. Thus, as someone who has been in a unique position to watch a lot of these events unfold, I couldn't leave fandom in good conscience without leaving this footprint. They say history is written by the winners. Well, that was before the internet. So fair warning, I will use spn_g links in later years. It is impossible to do an exhaustive archive of J2 without it. Like it or not, it's part of J2 fan history and quite an archival resource when so many LJ links have since been deleted. Careful consideration has been given to the source. Priority is given to the most reliable information. Events (e.g. things we've seen with our own eyes pics, videos, quotes, tweets, etc) are all primary, and denoted by a header font and date. All anon ITK ("In-The-Know") info is considered secondary, and only becomes more or less probable depending on how it fits in with the overall timeline. Thus, some events with "more probable" secondhand information, are noted as an addendum by the phrase, "*rumorhasit:". Unsubstantiated gossip has been left out. This archive is done with the utmost respect for both parties. In a way, it is only in the details that the more real human context emerges. This is something lost in the day-to-day celeb gossip and fandom life. It's easier to make snap judgments about an image than about a fully fleshed out person. My hope is that in seeing the totality of their story, readers can find some form of compassion for the subjects at hand. I've taken great pains to make sure that the record that follows is all of public events only. If they've been released on the internet in a public place, and talked about by fans, they are included here. I've written this in a way that I hope can be a resource for all, both for J2 fans who lived it and those who have yet to make sense of the whole story. In the act of putting this together, even I have learned details that I had forgotten or missed. It's almost a decade of details, it's a lot to keep straight, but I hope that in this timeline format, the clearer picture emerges. If it's the first time you're reading this, just take it in stride. But if you're a fan who lived all of this once already, pay special attention to the timing of events and larger patterns. Watch how appearances and big personal news tend to go together with big professional news like movie casting and season renewals. Notice how players like publicists and managers fit into the story along side girlfriends and fiancees and wives. This is how this industry functions, even with a fledgling show on a netlet. It's in this industry that two guys who initially claimed privacy start indulging fans with stories of their personal life. It's in this climate that a TV show built on two actors' chemistry suddenly tampers said chemistry down to nothing in the middle of its seventh season. There are many threads that pop up here, partly why this story is such an important one. Some things are rarely as they appeared at first glance. Other things are exactly how they appeared at first glance. Decide on your own which ones are which. One can look at this as an archive with two distinct parts. The first four years are more a tribute to the little glimpse we got of two guys with an instant bond that captured us all. The next four years are more a testament to how despite an actor's best intentions, HW can still grab you by the shirt collar and suck you dry. Never forget where the real power of any show lies. Not with the people whose creative work you watch every week. It's those at the top. And they are not as "tolerant" or "liberal" as people might like you to believe. The story of J2 is an epic one, but that's not the only reason why it's important. They're also not the first or last to deal with these extreme machinations. As we proceed into 2013, we are reminded over and over again how much our culture has changed since 2005. Since 2008. Even since 2011. How much longer will it take for HW to catch up with the rest of us? I'm indebted to all the fans who helped me in amassing this record, adding their contributions, holding my hand, listening to my complaints, and overall sharing in the J2/Supernatural obsession for good times and bad. This has been simultaneously the easiest and hardest show to be a fan of. But it would have been impossible to follow for eight years if not for the community of amazing people that I shared it with. Some of them may not understand this, many of them will probably not even read this, but I hope that they still know my thanks and appreciation. Schmaultz aside, we've got 8 years of history to get to! So without further ado!