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sonicenvy · 1 year

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Let's have a chat about AO3

Hiya friends and loyal followers! My last post about AO3 blew up yesterday so I figured now would be a good time to continue the conversation about AO3.

As I mentioned in my previous post (and probably in multiple other previous posts):

AO3 is NOT a social media site. AO3 is an ARCHIVE.

So let's delve into that a bit more since people don't seem to be getting that. Fanfiction predates the internet, and was transmitted via the internet way before sites like AO3 and FF dot net. Relatively speaking, I am a fanfiction newcomer, as I first started reading fanfiction in ... 2011? or thereabouts. I say this to say that I obviously don't have as personal of a memory of a time before fanfiction archive sites (my bitty fan experiences were on teaspoon and lcfanfic), but I certainly know plenty of people via fandom online that absolutely do.

For the newest children to fanfiction please check out the following pieces of reading to get started on your fandom history education:

“Fanfiction.” Fanlore Wiki. Accessed June 15, 2023. https://fanlore.org/wiki/Fanfiction. Archived [https://archive.is/yJpOq].

“So I’m on AO3 and I See a Lot of People Who Put ‘I Do Not Own [Insert Fandom Here]’ before Their Story.” sonicenvy.tumblr.com, July 2, 2016. https://sonicenvy.tumblr.com/post/146818589611/mikkeneko-thepioden. Archived [https://archive.is/FRNCy]

ofhouseadama, Emily. “A Brief History of Fandom, for Those on Here Who Somehow Think Tumblr Invented Fandom.” sonicenvy.tumblr.com, May 21, 2014. https://sonicenvy.tumblr.com/post/131935827010/ofhouseadama-a-brief-history-of-fandom-for. Archived [http://archive.today/j2Rfq]

mizstorge, fantastic-nonsense, and fanculturesfancreativity. “The Places Fandom Dwells: A Cautionary Tale.” fantastic-nonsense.tumblr.com, June 29, 2017. https://fantastic-nonsense.tumblr.com/post/162395547190/the-places-fandom-dwells-a-cautionary-tale. Archived [https://archive.ph/QK2wI]

As you read through this stuff, three things should become apparent to you:

Fanworks have always existed in tenuous space -- that is, they have always been under threat of removal, or threat of loss, whether this loss was through events like the livejournal strikethrough, the loss of a fandom specific website, destruction of physical copies of the work, or C&D/legal action from original creators of the work.

Fandom has a long and colored history with many of the most defining events of early fandom history being related to threats to the community.

A need was ripe for a place to save and ARCHIVE fanworks and protect them from deletion, legal action, corporate sanitization efforts, site deaths due to the deaths of admins, etc etc.

Out of all of this, comes The Organization For Transformative Works (2007), and their brand new site Archive of Our Own (2008). The stated intention of Archive of Our Own (AO3) (bolding mine):

The Organization for Transformative Works (OTW) is a nonprofit organization, established by fans in 2007, to serve the interests of fans by providing access to and preserving the history of fanworks and fan culture in its myriad forms. We believe that fanworks are transformative and that transformative works are legitimate. We are proactive and innovative in protecting and defending our work from commercial exploitation and legal challenge. We preserve our fannish economy, values, and creative expression by protecting and nurturing our fellow fans, our work, our commentary, our history, and our identity while providing the broadest possible access to fannish activity for all fans. The Archive of Our Own offers a noncommercial and nonprofit central hosting place for fanworks using open-source archiving software.

Source: Works, Organization for Transformative. “Archive of Our Own Beta.” Archive of Our Own. Accessed June 15, 2023. https://archiveofourown.org/about. Archived [http://archive.today/QYtbM]

You may also want to check out the original LiveJournal Brainstorming sessions for AO3 by astolat as archived here [https://web.archive.org/web/20220627134339/https://astolat.livejournal.com/150556.html] if you need further clarity on this point.

Some neat stuff from astolat's original posts that I find are relevant:

making it easy for people to download stories or even the entire archive for offline reading (thus widely preserving the work in case some disaster does take it down)

code-wise able to support a huge archive of possibly millions of stories.

allowing ANYTHING -- het, slash, RPF, chan, kink, highly adult ...

As we can see both from the mission statement of OTW/AO3 and from astolat herself in the brainstorming sessions, AO3 is an ARCHIVE. It is a project that is meant to preserve and provide access to fanworks. Run for fans, by fans and meant to host any and all kind of content with none of the commercialization or censorship that fans found elsewhere. Before AO3 there were certainly numerous, disconnected, fandom specific archives for fanfiction or other fanworks. Many of these old sites have been archived (see we're getting that word again) via the opendoors project. Some, like teaspoon or lcfanfic still exists and are semi-active.

A common thread is that writers and readers weren't just using the archive site to connect. They were doing more connection through other sites like dreamwidth, livejournal, facebook, their emails and later tumblr or twitter. Archive sites were meant as a supplement to other fan spaces like message boards, blogs and journals.

So, dear friends, you might ask, what is an archive?

An archive is a place where documents, artifacts and records are kept and preserved for future reference, use and access. Archives help us maintain a better understanding of the past and protect objects, writings, documents, records and more in longevity. In the context of fanwork archiving, this means preserving fanworks in longevity/perpetuity so that fans can continue to access them for enjoyment and for historical purposes. Archiving fanwork is vital to preserving and, indeed creating fan culture and identity.

To read more about archives in general, check out this article from the American History Museum of the Smithsonian (https://americanhistory.si.edu/archives/about/what-are-archives) or this one from the US National Archives (https://www.archives.gov/about/info/whats-an-archives.html).

So AO3 is an archive. Why does this matter?

Oh, boy, I am about to get LIS nerdy on y'all. At this point in the post we can all agree that AO3 is and always has been an archive (it's in the name...). When we view and understand the site starting from this premise, a lot of, frankly stupid as fuck arguments that people have about AO3 look even dumber. Understanding AO3 primarily as an archive helps us understand:

The tagging system. Given AO3 is an archive, the tags for content on the site function exactly the same as headings in a library archive. They are designed to store information about the fic (that is, they are intended as metadata) which is then used to find the record of the fic in the archive. This is why it is important to tag what is in your fic, and to use tags properly, using the agreed meanings of particular tags.

The kinds of content that are permitted and excluded under TOS IV. The archive permits fanworks, which include: fanfiction, fanart, podfic, and fan videos. The archive thus excludes things that are not fanwork (records with no content (aka "placeholder fics"), posts asking for writing prompts or submissions, posts looking for fic, commerical promotions of ANY kind, original fiction with no relation to fan content, spam etc). Every library and archive has their own collections policies, and AO3 is not an exception. Collections Policies are generally guided by the mission statement(s) of the archiving party/library. As we saw above in both the official about page and the original brainstorming posts from astolat, AO3 is a library for fanworks, meant to preserve fanworks and is in opposition to advertising and commercialization. Therefore, if the thing you want to add to the library of AO3 is not a fanwork or contains commercialization, it does not qualify to be an object of the archive. Re: the "placeholder fic" post that I didn't know was going to blow up so much: imagine you go to the library to get a book and open it to find that it is empty or you get a DVD and play it only to find that it is the movie theater trailer for the movie. Doesn't that make no sense?

Why there is NO censoring of "adult" or other quote on quote "objectionable content". The archive does not chose to preserve works based on subjective quality or "moral purity" type standards. This is true in libraries and museums as well. We keep and save materials that people find objectionable as archiving and librarianship are and have always been diametrically opposed to censorship. As an archive AO3 follows this. Moreover, you can see in astolat's original post "allowing ANYTHING -- het, slash, RPF, chan, kink, highly adult" as a founding idea.

Why there is no advertising, and why this includes you adding your Ko-fi or paypal or whatever the fuck. Outside of the fact that doing this violates TOS and invalidates OTW lawyer arguments for the legal existence of fanworks under US Fair Use, AO3 as an archive is meant to be a keeper of fan records, not a space for promotions. Archives do keep records (and indeed some archives keep records of advertising) but they, themselves are not using their platform to advertise for anything else.

Why there is no "AO3 algorithm". The kinds of algorithmic feed generators that sites like the t*kt*ok or whatever use are antithetical to the mission of archiving stuff and providing access to it. In an archive you search for content based on terms and headings and self-select. I'm not on the t*kt*k or whatever and I actively block and disable all "suggestion" type things so I don't entirely understand what y'all are looking with this.

Ok, that's great, why are you telling us all of this?

There is a concerning trend of newcomers both young and older to fandom and fanfiction that have not taken off the social media brain filter before coming on board. Some excellent tags I've seen on The Post™ that spawned this one include:

#guys quit bringing the worst elements of capitalism to AO3 (via @watchtowersystem)

#algorithms have rotted people's brains i swear (via @pearly--rose)

#omg stop trying to social mediaify ao3 (via @greyduckgreygoose)

There were also some bangers on my reddit post on this topic as well, but the reddit I posted it on is (rightfully) on blackout at the moment.

I think the sociamediafying of fanfiction that a lot of these people are bringing has a few major negatives:

social mediafied fandom views fanwork soley as consumable content, creating more passive, entitled participants in fandom. For fanwork=content social media brain folks, the fact that fanwork is meant to be an active and engaging thing is lost. Fanwork is a gift from one fan to other fans, it is a point for discussion, a result of people's passion and creativity. It is transformative, out of the box and part of building a niche community. When you start to see it as "content" like a random object on a feed you stop valuing it, analyzing it, and interacting with it in the same way, and are more likely to passively consume what you see as content. Social media has made "content" out of everything, and everything becomes something to scroll past in a few seconds, always looking for more stuff, the newest stuff, etc etc. It's obviously very tied to the experience of social media being used to sell you shit, but that's another conversation I think.

fanwork=content social media brain also allows some of these people to post incredibly demanding comments for "more content" on fancreators works or makes them think it's ok (and indeed creates the same result as what the writer is creating) to feed someone's incomplete fic into an ai to get a "completion".

fanwork=content social media brain also means that when these folks start creating content they feel entitled to views, hits, kudos, etc etc, and feel like it is ok to do things that they see as "gaming" the system to get their fics to be at the top of the pack. They begin to care too much about posting to get their "content" the most views because that's how things work on social media.

fanwork=content social media brain also makes some of these people think that "fic" that is "written" by an ai is acceptable fanwork, because they do not view fanwork as artwork/writing with merit, as much as an entertainment property to be consumed. How the meat gets made becomes irrelevant, because the end result is the only thing that is important.

social mediafying of fandom is something that has helped a lot of advertising and commercialization sneak its way into our spaces, which actively hurts our chances of building good communities.

social mediafying of fandom turns fanwork creation and fandom into popularity contests, which is bad for all fan spaces. The point is that we're being weird together. I've seen new, young authors post on reddit about how they feel so bad about their fic because it doesn't have 1000s of hits or because they feel incapable of writing things (even things they might want to explore) because "no one will read it, and it will not become popular". This makes me very sad.

social mediafying of fanwork also turns right around into .... wait ... you guessed it .... censorship! people are now practising self-censorship that is utterly unnecessary and completely sad to me because they are afraid of getting deleted from anywhere for "objectionable content". This carries over into new users on AO3 doing things like using leet speech for curse words, sexual content and more in the TAGS or the body of their AO3 fics. Stop Don't. You can say fuck, dead, kill, murder, cunt, cock, and whatever the fucking hell you want on AO3. That was the whole goddamn point.

These people are trying to bring fanwork=content social media brain to places like AO3. I'm not entirely sure why.

tldr; AO3 isn't a social media site for talking with your following or posting about ideas that you've had. It isn't a popularity contest. It isn't a place where there will be no inappropriate content. It isn't a place for advertising or commerical promotion. It is an ARCHIVE OF FANWORKS meant to be "allowing ANYTHING -- het, slash, RPF, chan, kink, highly adult."

Anyone of you fans older, wiser, more well versed in fan history, and more articulate than me, please feel free to add to this. Ditto on any of you other funky LIS friends out here on tumblr dot hell.

#AO3 #archive of our own #fanfiction #fandom #fandumb #fan history #fandom history #long post for ts

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pluckyredhead · 6 months

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You've probably heard this all before but what draws you to jayroy? I love reading your fics and I reread them a lot but I was just curious about what made you like them, and what you want for them

Thank you so much!

To be honest, the thing that drew me to JayRoy as a ship was that I've loved Roy since I started reading comics 20 years ago but never had a ship for him that I liked, and then I saw him call Jason "Jaybird" and my brain melted out my ears.

But seriously, I just think they have such an interesting, intense dynamic that could so easily work perfectly or blow up disastrously. The cautionary tales of the superhero set. The recovering addict and the addict's son. The one who braces himself with the expectation that he will be left, and the one who clings ferociously to anything that is his because he has so little to call his own.

And somehow it works. They create this judgment-free space for each other that allows them both to heal. Jason loves with this fierce, greedy, all-consuming clinginess that would be way too much for some people but that is exactly how Roy has always longed to be loved (all the Arrow boys are helpless, impractical romantics at heart). Jason looks at Roy and sees a father who is there for his child (and would and did avenge her) and fights his way back to sobriety every time he falters, and those are the two most heroic things he can imagine. Roy looks at Jason and sees danger and conviction and he can't resist either.

I got a comment once on a fic that said something to the effect of "Roy gives Jason acceptance and Jason gives Roy caretaking and those are the things they weren't getting anywhere else" and I was like "...oh, that's what I've been trying to write with all of these thousands of words." So yeah. That.

#jason todd #red hood #roy harper #arsenal

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piratecaptainscaptainpirates · 9 months

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I want to talk about Anne and Mary, because since the finale I've seen a lot of rumblings about how they're "foreshadowing" for Ed and Stede's relationship falling apart in s3, and I think that's an odd takeaway from the episode.

So, yes, obviously, Anne and Mary are a cautionary tale. They ran away from piracy to live a life they'd probably been excited for, at least at first. The parallels are super obvious. They're so bored with what their life has become that they're irritated by all the things they initially loved about each other, to the point where they keep trying to kill each other just to break up the monotony. They mock Ed and Stede about how this will happen to them once the charm wears off.

Yes, this is a cautionary tale for Ed and Stede. That much is clear. But I think the read of this scene as foreshadowing forgets a very important thing, and that's how Anne and Mary's story ends. Anne burns their antique shop, full of things she loves, because she loves Mary and she's happy to give it all up to make Mary happy, and Mary is clearly deeply touched by this gesture. The last shot we get of them, they're at the happiest and most loving we see them. Mary's warning to Stede and Ed about how their relationship is just "fun and games," waiting to see who dies first as the answer to the "last unknown" in their relationship, is immediately disproven.

I think the message here is clear - in adult relationships, like the one Ed and Stede are trying to build, it can be easy to stagnate and get bogged down in routine. For two people with as many issues as Ed and Stede, it might be especially easy. But the ultimate message, the biggest takeaway, is that you don't have to stay in something that makes you unhappy, and if you're in a relationship with someone who loves you, you can work it out together.

It's never too late to move towards a life that will make you happier, especially when you're doing it hand-in-hand with someone who you love. Ed and Stede are gonna be just fine.

#ofmd #our flag means death

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tcustodisart · 4 months

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What are some cute moments that occur throughout the different acts that aren’t necessarily in the game but live in your head rent free?

Oh, this one is going to be a long answer, because there's a lot of squatters in my head and there's a lot to be unleashed. Let's start with this doodle with the boys playing lanceboard at camp and continue under the cut. Lots of cringe and brainrot incoming, so brace yourself.

Act 1:

Connie is constantly bickering with Astarion over him stealing his journal. Gale suggest to cast arcane lock on it, but Connie knows it won't stop that gremlin from reading it so why bother.

This sad pile of rugs is where I imagine Connie sleeps in Act 1. Additional Astarion line: "Damn darling, you live like this?"

During the first romance scene Connie tells Shart about his family, about how he and his brother know the city inside and out, about his parents and the tavern they run, about the trap incident. It's the most he talked to someone who wasn't his family or his crow in years. He wishes that night would never end.

Connie sends letters to his family via Faust, he stops after entering Underdark.

Act 2:

I mentioned it before that Connie is not taking the Shadow Curse very well. He misses the sun, misses the grass, he's unable to contact his family, Shart has distanced herself from him. Karlach notices it and tries to cheer him up. They end up having long talks almost every night. That's the moment their friendship evolves from just friends to besties.

When Connie finds the second warding bond ring, he wishes he could give the other one to Shadowheart, but finds the moment inappropriate. He ends up giving her the ring at the beginning of Act 3.

Act 3:

I have a lot of stuff for this act.

This is inspired by one of Jaheira's lines: "'The Cub and the Crow'- sounds like a cautionary tale. As it probably should." Connie draws her a mock up cover for a kids book. Jaheira sticks it to the traveling chest (I mostly store food there, so to me traveling chest = fridge).

Connie goes through a serious breakdown at the start of this act (after a companion is abducted), he ends up crying and saying that for the first time he doesn't believe they're going to make it, that he'll never hug his mom, never hear his brother sing again, won't be able to tell his step dad that he saw Darkmaw the Wicked. He's being comforted first by Jaheira and then by the rest of his party.

His favorite armor gets damaged one time, he's very upset about it. But the next morning he finds it magically repaired (Astarion fixed it, from the start of Act 3 they become besties).

This wip that I'm very slowly working on happens during act 3. Connie makes some flower crowns and talks about how his mom taught him to do that. I'm not going to say more, because I really want to finish that comic.

Connie has a deal with Popper that he'll pay him double for every night orchid he finds (I actually did that in game, I bantered him more money for the flower than he asked for, I love that little guy so much).

This one is more funny than cute but when Connecticut Tav was younger and still lived in Baldur's Gate he used to visit Sharess's Caress pretty regularly because it was the best way to practice drawing people. He really enjoyed talking with the workers there, he eventually convinced them that maybe creating an union isn't such a bad idea. He ended up being banned from entering the brothel because of that. So when the party approaches it to meet Voss, he's very nervous that the owner will remember him (she does). There's a dialogue in my head but it would work better with some visuals, so maybe one time I'm going to draw it.

In my head, the cottage they end up living in is Connie's old hunting hut. So after the conversation with Shadowheart about her plans for after defeating the brain, he suggest that it would be the perfect place to go. He then draws the house to show her how it looks like, tells her that it's surrounded by a forest, there's a lake nearby, a small stable that can be turned into a barn if needed, and that he's not sure about the quality of the soil, but he did grow some herbs there, so maybe it's going to be good enough to grow flowers.

At the end of the game Connie decides to stay in Baldur's Gate for a while to help his family fix their tavern (which was heavily damaged). He tells Shart to go the house I mentioned before, because he wants her to start her new life as soon as possible + because it would be better for her parents. He stealthily puts his journal in her stuff with a note attached to it saying that he finished it this morning and she can read it if she wants to. He also gives her Faust so she can write him letters whenever she wants to. After 2 tendays he arrives at the cottage with some gifts (night orchid bulbs and a pamphlet about how to take care of them, there was supposed to be another gift, but he wasn't able to find it just yet, but that's for another story).

Epilogue party (because I'm that insane):

It's been sitting in my wips for more than two months, so I don't know if I'll be able to finish it. But during the party Connie and Shadowheart take 10 minute brake to visit the place from the first romance scene. They have a very similar conversation like before, but their roles are reversed now - It's Connie asking questions about Shart's current life. "Tell me something about yourself, but no tadpoles, weird artifacts, petty goddesses. Something about you."

#ask me anything #bg3 #connecticut tav #oh oof this took some time #but know this annon I am giving you a kiss on the cheek and I'm paying for our imaginary kids' collage for asking this question

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vulpixisananimal · 6 months

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(You are tired of the library.)

(Warning. Bellow the read more contains talk about self harm\suicide)

(No matter the library, you would always find one of those books. Be it Carpentry, fiction, Craft, sailing, whatever. There would always be just one book, one damn book.)

(Just let it die.)

(But you had to be there, And of course, it had to be you. Siffrin was nowhere to be found after yesterday, and Loop also disappeared soon after after that morning.)

(So. Here you are.)

(Yourself and Odile looking through the central Jouvente library for, what. Wishing stars? How could that help. You knew that whoever tried to grab Boniface had a wishing star emblem on their person. But that was it. What were the chances that you'd find something useful here.)

(But at least it was quiet.)

(Boniface, Pétronille, Isabeau, and Mirabelle had all headed off to the Defenders to ask them about any potential kidnappers in Jouvente. You didn't want to be around a crowd like that.)

(You sighed. Closing the book you were looking through. It was of your language, but it was just another cautionary tale. Be careful what you wish for, that sort of thing. You put it back.)

(You breathed in, and out.)

(It was probably a good thing only you could read these books. Wish craft deserves to be forgotten, with all the pain it's caused.)

(It was thanks to Wish craft that Vaugarde was nearly frozen in time. That Siffrin was trapped in a time loop. And you were pretty damn sure it was a wish that erased your country from history.)

(Stupid wishes.)

"Have you found anything, Siffrin?"

(Odile was here. She snuck up on you. No, that's not fair, you were just not paying attention. You turn to her, and shake your head.)

"Neither have I. Most of the books on wishes would probably be yours to find."

(You sigh. Of course it would be.)

(Wordlessly, you look back to the bookshelf, picking another paper of dead languages to look through. Odile standing next you, watching you.)

"... Is everything alright?"

(No. No it wasn't alright. But you know that, didn't you Odile. Odile Odile Odile. Always the smartest and quickest to work things out. Go on, say it. Say you've figured out you're not Siffrin, is so, so obvious.)

(You read the book.)

". . ."

(Odile is still there. Go away.)

". . . I acted, inappropriately, a few days ago. I'm sorry."

(Huh?)

"I understand if you don't forgive me. I knew something was wrong and couldn't wait for you to bring it up first. That was wrong of me."

(. . . Right.)

(She did know you weren't Siffrin, but she wasn't bringing it up. But she brought it up anyways by talking about how she menaced you a few days ago. So smart, so smart you are, aren't you.)

(You sigh, and close the book. You turn to her, avoiding eye contact.)

(You open your mouth, nothing comes out.)

". . . Siffrin?"

(You turn away, back to the book.)

". . . You can't speak, right?"

(You nod. You never could. The rare times you were here alone, you had to make do without talking. You could never get yourself to talk.)

(Well, you could, but it would give everyone a headache. You continue reading the book.)

"I can teach you sign language, if you want."

(. . .)

"I understand if there's some. . . Issues between us, but I'm still willing to help with-"

(You hold a finger.)

(There's something here.)

(Records of wishes. Wishes people made and what came from it. One person wished to find a rare fish, and could find they could fish for days at a time non stop. Another wished for true love, and was compelled to travel afar. A third wished their brother would recover from an illness, and they gained powerful healing craft.)

(Odile was talking to you. You ignored her.)

(Hmm. Siffrin wished to stay with his friends, and was given a time loop to do it. The king wanted to remember, and was given the power of time craft of all things.)

(There's a pattern here.)

(Keep looking. What else is there. What kind of wishes did people make. What did they get, did they always get their wish? Of course they did. What about the stars. What's with that star, you knew, didn't you? Did you? What was it-)

"Siffrin!"

(Odile places her hand on your shoulder.)

(Don't. Touch. Me.)

(Even without words you got the message across. Stupid. You're not friends. You're not even allies.)

(She's staring at you. Afraid.)

(You must look downright terrifying right now.)

(So what. She'll get over it, and if not, then you'll be tugged away just like you have hundreds of times. It didn't matter. Slowly, you put the knife to your side, there's no blood on it. You pick up the book again.)

". . . Sorry."

(Fine.)

(Damn. You lost your place. Fine. You started walking to the entrance with the book in hand. You could check the book out or steal it. They wont miss a dead language. You needed out of this dusty, disgusting place. Odile followed.)

(You paused at the exit. It was bright outside.)

". . ."

(She wanted to say something. What, another apology? A scolding?)

(. . . No, something's wrong.)

(She must have picked it up too. You heard something, felt something, smelt something. But you couldn't make it out. There was too much information, too much at once. You gritted your teeth and stepped outside.)

(You winced at the light. The streets were busy. It was loud. Stars, what was going on, something was off, something was wrong.)

"D-dile!"

"Gems- Bonny?!?"

(You turn, Boniface was running to Odile. Why were they here? They were holding tight to Odile. They were crying.)

"There!"

(You look up. A couple of Defenders were jogging over to you two. On instinct, you put yourself between them and Odile and Boniface.)

(Odile seemed just as suspicious.) "What, what happened? what do you two want?"

(The defenders seemed unremarkable, by Vaugarde standards that is.) "That kid ran away from their sister, we're trying to get them back to her."

(Hmm...)

"They ran way from Pétronille? Did something happen?"

(Boniface wasn't responding.)

"Well they were almost kidnapped yesterday, but we caught the girl who tried it, I bet they're still spooked."

(Girl?)

". . . Who was it?" (Odile asked, stone faced.)

"It wasn't her..."

(You turn around, Boniface...?)

"Belle didn' do it... Za told me to, to get you, and, and Nille..."

(You draw your dagger.)

"Siffrin! No need for that!"

"Hey easy kid, we're here to help."

(Help. Ha. You looked at the two defenders. When Mirabelle asked for help all those cowards chose to stay here all nice and comfy. It didn't mater that Vaugarde would freeze. Help, they only helped themselves.)

(Something was wrong. Something wasn't right. Isabeau, Pétronille, and Mirabelle were undoubtedly in trouble.)

(. . . No, it was past that.)

(You didn't need some star in your ear or some annoying jingle. You knew what this was. Wrong choice then, after all.)

(You turn to look at Boniface and Odile. They looked worried, confused, maybe angry. Odile, oh Odile, holding Boniface and telling them its ok even if the world is stabbing them both in the back. Oh whatever, it didn't matter anyway.)

(Well, here comes the hardest part. You twist the knife the other way.)

(Odile. She looks confused. And then, she looks horrified. Oh Odile, always the quickest to work things out.)

(She can't move fast enough to stop you.)

(It hurts.)

(. . . It took longer than usual.)

(. . . The other two would show up soon. They can deal with it.)

(. . . You're going to throw up.)

#isat #isat fanart #isat art #in stars and time #siffrin system au #isat siffrin #sifstem #au #art #isat mal du pays #isat odile #isat spoilers #tw self harm #tw suicide #techincaly #heho #isat bonnie #isat au #sifstem main story

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wavesoutbeingtossed · 5 months

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I absolutely adore the (thinly-veiled) story in "Fortnight" because as I said on album release day, it's like "ivy" but in the suburbs.

I love the conceit of some sort of sanitized, suburban wasteland being a veneer for the seedy underbelly of these unhappy couples, acting out their secret fantasies as a cover for how unsatisfying their pristine lives are. It feels so "Desperate Housewives" turned on its head.

The narrator is drinking away her troubles, but nobody notices because everyone else is just as miserable and doing the same thing. (Or don't care.) The love interest moves in to the house behind hers, captivating her across the fence line. His wife upkeeps the perfect suburban duties, tending to her garden, and it drives the narrator crazy because her own home is in shambles on the inside. How dare she make something so beautiful that hides something so ugly? How dare she be happy when she has the one thing the narrator thinks she wants?

The would-be lovers circle each other, make pleasantries like good neighbours always do, sublimating their desires for each other over idle chit chat, which only highlights how that spark has gone out with her husband. And the image of their presumed perfect marriage to their neighbours is also a lie, because while she's feeding these fantasies about the other man in her mind, her husband is openly unfaithful. And the fuck of it all is that she knows and she isn't doing anything about it. The implied reading of "my husband is cheating, I want to kill him," to me is that this is an ongoing affair, but she's just put up with it, letting the resentment build but continuing to play the role of dutiful wife. (After all, good wives always know.)

The story is suburban gothic. The pressures of up keeping the day to day of the British? American dream do nothing but kill the spirit of the people inside them when they can't admit that it's wrong. The call is coming from inside the house: the danger isn't from some monster lurking in the shadows invading their neighbourhood, but quite literally in their own backyards. The only options are to stay stuck in the mundane reality of day to day in this sterile cage, or to break free and escape to Florida, the bastion of evading the law and lovers and time. You can buy the car (or the house or the boat or whatever), but it won't fill the hole inside you if you can't admit what's wrong and follow through.

I could soooooo see this playing out as a movie or TV show and I freaking love it. (I mean, it already has, it's a whole genre lol.) There's the whole ~real life~ situation filtering through these characters, being used as a cautionary tale that would probably veer a shade too far into speculation for another post. But I do love me some storytelling about the dark side of suburbia as a foil to people's darker impulses and psychological breakdowns.

#fortnight #the tortured poets department #i also think the music video plays into this a little!!!#i also have a whole thing in my head bubbling about the recurring theme of small towns/churches/american west in several of the songs #as yet another narrative device to very faintly fictionalize a very real story #because tehre's all sorts of metaphor there #writing letters addressed to the fire

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pikahlua · 6 months

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So many plotpoints I just don't understand in this arc. Why have bkg die? Why have him fight afo? Why have izuku lose his arms? What purpose has any of it served???? At all???????

Todorki and ochakos fights were handled so well and streamlined and benefited their characters and arcs but bkgs and dekus have been a mess all bcus hori is a coward who won't just let them fight together bcus ig save to win and win to save meant nothing at all

Why have bkg die?

I think it's pretty clear from the way that whole thing was framed that the purpose of Katsuki dying was symbolic. This is a staple of Japanese drama running all the way back to kabuki. It is a trope for a main character to die to shed their mortal incarnation and come back to life as their deified form. Katsuki's death runs perfectly parallel to Tomura's from the PLW arc right down to the part where they are both responsible for their own resurrections. It's probably one of the best cases I can think of where a character's death actually did further that same character's arc without fridging them for the sake of someone else.

Why have [Katsuki] fight AFO?

Because AFO was set up as a "what if" scenario or cautionary tale for Katsuki, the other side to his "villains and heroes are two sides of the same coin" storyline. AFO in his physical form has a different character arc and story utility from AFO the quirk vestige. He provided a lot of backstory that allows us to infer the subtlety of how Katsuki is likely some sort of reincarnation of Kudou, the mechanics of which we will never need to revisit because they're unimportant. It was about karma and personal growth. It was about showcasing how Katsuki is an heir to many legacies, All Might's included.

Why have Izuku lose his arms?

Again, it's symbolic. It's been foreshadowed pretty heavily that Izuku would risk losing his arms in reaching out to save someone. This was a demonstration of his willingness to take on that risk. It also provides a moment for Eri to get in on the "everyone contributes a little bit to the fight" action all the other characters have been allowed to have. We don't even know yet what state Izuku will actually be in when this is all over, so it'd be premature to jump to any major conclusions about all of this. The story may still have a lot to say about this.

What purpose has any of it served???? At all???????

To entertain me specifically.

Bold of you to assume you've read the final chapter in the story yet.

#anon ask #ask pika #my hero academia manga spoilers #final arc spoilers #at this point i'm just gonna have to get snarky about all of these sorts of asks #if you guys won't stop to think about this story and find the answers to your questions yourself why is that my problem #you're entitled to your own opinion #but jeez #one sloppy chapter and you all go off the deep end with it i swear #as if every story out there doesn't have a bit of this going on #seriously #is this sort of reaction really merited just by the fact izuku's arms are being healed???#if you need context just know i've been getting a ton of asks like this lately and i'm pretty sure they're not all from different people

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heathersdesk · 8 months

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Confession Time:

I don't like Come Follow Me and never have. And I haven't been able to articulate why until I tried to buckle down and start with the Book of Mormon this year.

The first paragraph of the first section for 1 Nephi 1-5 ends with this sentence:

"Overall, there is power in this imperfect family’s examples of faith."

I was rocked by that a little bit the first time I read it.

I thought to myself, "Wow. Are we really going to confront the hero worship and unhealthy worldviews our community has internalized about this book because of the way the negative behaviors of the characters are never challenged or confronted for what they are? That many of the details are included because they're cautionary tales about what NOT to do, but you'd never know that based on how the material is presented and talked about by our people at large because the conversation is driven by the needless compulsion to focus on the same tired perspectives of faith promotion that the subjects sometimes don't deserve?"

*reads the section, which is full of the same "I will go and do" about Nephi that they always do, without once confronting the conflicts, doubts, and struggles of anyone but Nephi in any serious way, some of which are exacerbated (if not cause) by Nephi being insufferable and self-righteous to everyone around him*

Nephi is an unreliable narrator, y'all. You're not supposed to believe everything he says, thinks, and does. Especially when he's younger. His view of the people around him and their motivations lack depth because he was totally unconcerned with their feelings and struggles. He was bad at helping and honoring people in their darkest moments, having nothing better to offer them for support than glib and shallow assertions that they would be struggling less if they were more like him. An attitude he learned from his father's blatant and unapologetic favoritism.

Nephi is not an example of what to do when there is conflict in your family. And it takes him until "O wretched man that I am" to realize he's not the most important man in every room. His disrespect for other people in his leadership is the reason they want nothing to do with him, and it takes him a lifetime of chasing people away from God to realize he's not as good of a person as he thinks he is. He has failed people from his need to be seen as being better than he is, better than everyone else is at loving God and knowing what that means. And this becomes a cultural artifact, a baked-in foregone conclusion in the minds of his people that ends up shaping their self-perceptions until it destroys them. His personal failures, viewed for their long-term ramifications and consequences, is part of what this book is supposed to be about.

But sure. Let's do "I will go and do" again, without pondering in any serious way if Nephi's interpretation of his interaction with the Holy Ghost might be lacking in credibility because the alternative is to say something closer to "We really botched this job and killing Laban was not a forgone conclusion or a necessary evil that I can acquit myself of because God said it was okay."

Maybe we don't have to believe that. Maybe we can examine how our culture in the modern church has perpetuated this same logical fallacy with vigilante violence, justified by appeals to this exact story.

Point being, never read the story of Nephi without keeping it firmly fixed in your mind that he's going to regret and repent of most of this later. That cross reference to 2 Nephi 4 is probably the most important thing you can have in your margins every time he says or does something totally uncalled for. 🖖

#mormon #lds #mormonism #tumblrstake #religion #the church of jesus christ of latter day saints #faith #queerstake #scripture study #the book of mormon

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thegambitgazette · 7 months

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Existentialism and Idealism in the Obsessed Artist Trope: The Role of Destruction in the Pursuit of Authenticity

A/N: this is long (2,455 words) and I’m sorry

Index

Introduction Existentialism and the Obsessed Artist Idealism and the Obsessed Artist The Search for Authenticity The Comfort in the Familiar Hurt So... What Now? Closing Words

Introduction

There is an odd sense of awe in losing one’s sanity for their passions… at least, that’s what characters like Nina Sayers (Black Swan) or Beth Harmon (The Queen’s Gambit) portray.

The Obsessed Artist trope is a prevalent motif in literature, art, and popular culture, depicting individuals consumed by their creative pursuits to the point of obsession. While this trope often romanticizes the notion of madness linked to genius, it also serves as a cautionary tale. The Obsessed Artist character often pays a heavy personal price for their single-minded pursuit of artistic perfection, sometimes culminating in self-destruction. The trope therefore underscores the potential dangers of obsession, illustrating how the relentless pursuit of an abstract ideal can lead to isolation, mental health issues, and even physical harm. Yet, despite these risks, the Obsessed Artist remains a figure of fascination, embodying the human struggle to create, express, and find meaning in a complex universe. Why is that?

In trying to unpack why I was so obsessed with the Obsessed Artist trope, I had to do a little digging into my own patterns. I realized that watching people deteriorate because of something they're passionate about is probably the epitome of tragedy, in my opinion; and it’s not because I like seeing people suffer. It’s more so because it’s cathartic, in a way.

I can see myself in them. That’s the easiest way to put it. I think of what I am passionate about and feel like it would never be enough for a number of factors. To dig a little deeper: I feel as though my work won’t be valid unless I’m hurt because of it, like there’s a semblance of pain that needs to be paid in order for something to be valuable.

Now, as it’s written, that’s not a healthy outlook; but, I thought, “But that’s normal, isn’t it? I mean, nothing worthwhile is ever easy.”

Existentialism and the Obsessed Artist

Now, I want to pose a scenario for anyone reading: If a golden chalice was on the opposite side of a rose bush, would you go through its thorns? And if you were to discover that there was nothing in that gold chalice, that it was left behind for a reason, what can you say about your pain then?

In one post, I talked about Kierkegaardian Despair and how Kierkegaard was an existentialist that talked about utilizing one’s own despair since despair is inevitable. I thought that answered the question as to why I believed I had to suffer in order to achieve things: existentialists argue that individuals must confront suffering and embrace it as an integral aspect of their journey towards authenticity and meaning. This does not necessarily mean seeking out suffering for its own sake but rather acknowledging its presence and learning from it in order to live more fully and authentically.

The trope of the Obsessed Artist often intersects with existentialist themes, particularly in its exploration of the relationship between passion, suffering, and creative expression. The Obsessed Artist archetype typically depicts individuals who are consumed by their artistic pursuits to the point of obsession, often sacrificing their personal well-being, relationships, and even sanity in the process.

From an existentialist perspective, the Obsessed Artist embodies the existential struggle to find meaning and authenticity through creative expression. The artist’s obsession with their craft can be seen as a manifestation of their quest for purpose and identity in a world devoid of inherent meaning. Suffering, whether self-imposed or external, becomes a central theme in the Artist’s journey, driving them to confront existential questions about the nature of existence, the value of their work, and the significance of their artistic vision. We’ll get to more on authenticity later.

To put it simply, perhaps the Artist chooses destruction, subconsciously or otherwise, in order to feel something about themselves. However, I still felt that something was missing.

Idealism and the Obsessed Artist

For me, the relation to the Obsessed Artist trope wasn’t too much in asserting my own agency and knowing myself as existentialist thinkers would say. There was something more, something that had to explain why I believed that “madness” was worth the goal, or why the goal required despair or pain.

In other words, “Perhaps the ‘why’ is answered in the ‘what.’” As in, what we are trying to create. Perhaps another reasoning behind the Obsessed Artist’s descent to madness and suffering is explained in what they are trying to produce. For example, going back to the Golden Chalice scenario, the Obsessed Artist allowed themselves to be cut by the thorn bushes because they wanted the chalice.

Once again, I looked into my own art. My writing projects and most of my art pieces, such as “Resemblance,” has a theme of connecting the mundane with the metaphysical. Idealism, as a philosophical perspective, posits that reality is fundamentally mental or spiritual in nature. It emphasizes the role of transcendent truths and spiritual insights in shaping human understanding and perception of reality.

From an idealist perspective, creative genius is seen as a manifestation of their ability to tap into higher forms of consciousness or reality. A creative’s heightened sensitivity to the world around them allows them to perceive and communicate truths that are inaccessible to others. This notion of genius is closely intertwined with the idealist belief in the existence of transcendent truths or spiritual insights that lie beyond the material world.

A/N: Even though I can resonate with this notion in a spiritual sense, this does not mean that one has to be religious or anything similar along those lines in order to comprehend it. One can still apply this connection to “transcendent truths or spiritual insights” in the sense of understanding other complex natures such as how human nature works or whatever one’s thoughts are about our connection with the universe and those around us

Idealism offers a nuanced understanding of the link between genius and madness by recognizing the Artist’s struggles as integral to their creative process. The Artist’s experiences of mental illness or psychological instability are not simply signs of pathology but are also seen as expressions of their heightened sensitivity and depth of perception. In this way, idealism provides a framework for appreciating the complexities of the Artist’s psyche and the role of mental health in shaping their artistic vision.

The Search for Authenticity

Now, what does it mean to search for authenticity and how does relate to the role of suffering in pursuit of purpose?

Existentialism

Existentialist thinkers such as Jean-Paul Sartre and Friedrich Nietzsche argue that individuals must confront the reality of their existence and make choices that align with their authentic selves. For the Artist, authenticity plays a crucial role in their creative process and pursuit of their dreams. The Artist seeks to express their unique perspective, emotions, and experiences through their art, striving to create work that is genuine and reflective of their innermost self. This authenticity is not merely about artistic style or technique but extends to the Artist’s willingness to confront their own vulnerabilities, uncertainties, and struggles in their creative endeavors. Suffering, within the context of authenticity, becomes a means through which the Artist asserts their individuality and autonomy. By embracing their experiences of pain, hardship, and adversity, the Artist affirms their authenticity and commitment to their artistic vision. Suffering becomes a testament to the Artist’s willingness to confront the complexities of existence and express themselves truthfully, even in the face of existential uncertainty.

Idealism

At the same time, in idealist philosophy, authenticity is often associated with aligning oneself with transcendent ideals or spiritual principles. The quest for authenticity involves seeking to live in harmony with these higher principles and values, rather than being driven solely by material desires or worldly concerns. Idealist thinkers argue that true authenticity lies in recognizing the ultimate reality of the spiritual realm and striving to live in accordance with its principles. From this perspective, the Obsessed Artist's quest for authenticity may involve seeking to express and embody transcendent beauty, truth, or spiritual insight through their art. The Artist’s dedication to their craft and their willingness to confront their own psyche and emotions may be seen as manifestations of their quest to understand higher forms of consciousness or reality. Moreover, within idealism, authenticity may also involve a recognition of one’s own intrinsic worth and value as a spiritual being. The Artist’s pursuit of authenticity may therefore be intertwined with a deeper understanding of their own identity and purpose within the larger cosmic order. Suffering does not have the same sense of inevitability in idealism as it does in existentialism, but idealist aspects can explain why suffering exists. In this trope, it may be used to channel into the Artist’s creative process as a means of expressing and grappling with existential questions, emotional turmoil, and spiritual insights. Art becomes a vehicle for transcending the limitations of individual suffering and connecting with universal themes of human experience, ultimately contributing to the search for authenticity both for the Artist and the audience. Perhaps I can write another post on literary devices that use idealist methods of transcending suffering; but, as this post deals with trying to understand why one can feel the need to suffer in order to have something valuable, it does not quite fit.

The Comfort in the Familiar Hurt

Alright, so perhaps I feel the need to suffer in order to validate my work because there is something authentic in that validity in comparison to art without pain. Whether it’s because there is a strong sense of self-awareness in recognizing suffering as a necessity or in that suffering is a tool that links the mundane with the metaphysical, I will subconsciously await that despair and pain while in pursuit of my own truths and happiness.

So, if the why behind the Obsessed Artist’s spiral is explained by the Artist’s attempt to physically represent their own psyche or mental health and how they view the world and/or their attempt to understand themselves amidst all of that, what does that say about destruction being a manifestation of those attempts?

For that, the answer seemed simple enough: it’s easier to destroy than to create.

After all, the Obsessed Artist destroys themselves, their relationships, their livelihood all in their attempt to create something. They seem to cause more harm to the point where it becomes second nature for the character for a number of reasons:

Catharsis and Release: Destruction can serve as a form of catharsis for the Artist, allowing them to release pent-up emotions, frustrations, and existential angst. The act of destroying their work or their surroundings may provide a temporary sense of relief from the pressures of creativity and the burdens of self-expression. By relinquishing control and succumbing to the chaotic force of destruction, the Artist may experience a momentary respite from the turmoil of their own psyche.

Escape from Perfectionism: The Obsessed Artist may struggle with perfectionism and an insatiable desire for artistic excellence. Destruction offers a way to escape from the relentless pursuit of perfection and the anxiety of never being able to live up to their own high standards. By destroying their work or sabotaging their efforts, the Artist can temporarily alleviate the pressure to create something flawless and unattainable, embracing imperfection and embracing the inherent chaos of existence.

Expression of Inner Turmoil: Through the act of destruction, the Artist externalizes their internal struggles and confronts the inherent contradictions and complexities of their own psyche. This outward expression of inner turmoil serves as a form of self-validation, allowing the Artist to confront their demons and make sense of their existential predicament through the medium of destruction.

Rebellion Against Conformity: The Obsessed Artist may rebel against societal norms and expectations, seeking to carve out their own path and assert their individuality in a world that often stifles creativity and authenticity. Destruction becomes a rebellious act of defiance, a way for the Artist to break free from the constraints of societal norms and expectations and assert their autonomy and independence. By destroying their own work or rejecting conventional notions of success, the Artist asserts their freedom to create on their own terms, even if it means embracing destruction as a form of creative expression.

The Artist becomes locked in a cycle of creating and destroying, each act serving as a manifestation of their ongoing quest for self-expression and existential understanding. The destruction wrought by the Artist extends beyond their artistic endeavors to encompass their relationships, livelihood, and ultimately, their own sense of self.

The belief that it is easier to destroy than to create reflects the Artist’s profound existential struggle and the overwhelming weight of their creative burden. The act of destruction becomes a coping mechanism, a way for the Artist to release pent-up emotions and navigate the complexities of their own psyche. Yet, paradoxically, this destructive impulse only serves to perpetuate the Artist’s suffering, trapping them in a cycle of despair and existential turmoil.

So… What Now?

Again, the Obsessed Artist is a cautionary tale. Hopefully, it’s not a person’s desire to emulate the behaviors shown in these characters. In fact, by learning from the Obsessed Artist and integrating these philosophical perspectives into our approach to art and self-expression, we can cultivate a healthier and more sustainable creative process.

Embrace Authenticity Without Self-Destruction

Recognize that authenticity in artistic expression does not necessitate self-destructive behavior. While existentialist themes may highlight the importance of confronting inner turmoil and existential angst, it’s crucial to find constructive outlets for these emotions rather than resorting to destructive habits. By channeling existentialist ideals of authenticity and self-awareness into positive and productive avenues, we can create art that is both genuine and nourishing to our well-being

Challenge Perfectionism

Challenge the notion of perfectionism and embrace the imperfections inherent in the creative process. Incorporate elements of idealist philosophy by recognizing the beauty and value of authenticity over flawless execution. Allow yourself the freedom to experiment, make mistakes, and learn from failures without succumbing to self-criticism or destructive habits. Embrace the journey of self-discovery and growth inherent in the creative process, rather than fixating on unattainable standards of perfection.

Closing Words

Ultimately, this engagement with the Obsessed Artist trope can potentially furnish us with a roadmap towards a more enlightened and fulfilling artistic vocation, one predicated upon the transcendence of personal limitations and the cultivation of a more profound artistic ethos. In so doing, we may embark upon a trajectory characterized by a fidelity to authenticity, an attunement to self-awareness, and a fortitude in the face of adversity.

Of course, these thoughts are just that: thoughts. All of this is merely my own attempt in understanding my fascination with aspects of literature, art, and life. You may resonate with it or disagree entirely or feel something in between.

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feelo-fick · 10 days

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Headcanon: Chilchuck and his Bad Takes on Literature

i think chilchuck would be like my mom in the sense that he wouldnt like sad stories. dont get me wrong, cautionary tales? absolutely fine. they serve a purpose to him which is to tell people "dont be an idiot and do this or else something bad will happen"

generally sad or angsty stories though? no point to him, and in his perspective its really confusing how people just read things that make them sad. like whats the use of reading something if its just gonna make you sad. whats the lesson? its not even real so it doesnt help anyone.

whats the point in making yourself cry when you could just avoid that entirely by not reading it at all?

but the one of the biggest reasons why sad stories exist is to let you release all the built up grief in you. to send you something to let out all your emotions in a healthy way. catharsis. empathy.

even when i dont relate to the tragic experiences in some stories, several ones ive read have lead me to realize that im in a bad situation or that im following in the footsteps of the character suffering. its like a wake up call.

and making yourself cry isnt inherently a bad thing. if crying allows you to let go of building pressure and tension in you then thats good!

but chil wouldnt see that. of course he wouldnt, hes avoidant of most situations that would allow him to release emotion, and fearful of letting his mature (read: repressed) persona slip.

hes someone that runs away to quick comforts and distractions at the earliest sign of issue. hes already been in too many horrifying situations, dealing with another is a pain. and he knows denying everything and refusing to look at the situation doesnt help, but it definitely provides a quick and easy happiness in the comfort of ignorance.

because of this, reading something made to make one empathize with and confront these bad emotions is defeating the point of his cowering. if he faces his issues, even if only through the perspective of a story, he'd have to deal with acknowledging that things are bad and need fixing, and he'd feel terrible and guilty in the moment - which of course is the worst thing that could happen to a person (his thought, not mine).

which is why i find the concept of him being/becoming a tragedy himself at the same time as this headcanon soooo interesting. imagine the irony of him bashing on the protagonists of tragic stories for acting on emotion and impulse rather than logic, when he himself has fallen victim to irrational thinking while in grief.

cause... thats what people do when they grieve. they lash out, make bad decisions, ruin themselves, ruin others.

for a tragedy to be prevented, the protagonists would have to change fundamental parts of themselves, and act perfectly rational when under extreme stress. and chilchuck holds himself to these kinds of unrealistic standards because he unwittingly believes he can handle it all.

he cant, obviously. we see it for ourselves in his relationship with his wife. they were doomed from the beginning by chils already-established avoidance and lack of emotional vulnerabiltiy (and whatever else his wife had going on).

this is all just to say that if you told him about orpheus and eurydice, he'd probably be one of those idiots trying to point out the "plot hole" that he couldve "just not looked back" and "just trusted her"

i dont understand. whats the point in reading tragedies? the protagonist is stupid, anyways. why would you take bitter medicine? why subject yourself to that?

i think its just a bad story.

#EDIT : SORRY THAT THERES NO PICTURES BY THE WAY I COULDNT BE BOTHERED TO LOOK FOR APPROPRIATE ONES IM SORRY!!!#hi. i wrote meta on accident #THIS WAS MEANT TO BE PART OF A JOKE BUT THEN I JUST KEPT GOING AND GOING AND I FORGOT TO MAKE THE JOKE PART OF IT SO NOW ITS 100% SERIOUS #to be fair i was always serious but i intended for it to be presented as a joke #this took me like 3 hours to write god help me #i did this instead of doing my homework. im toast #anyways. hi yes. chilchuck is a hypocrite #feel free to discuss about this cause i find it really interesting. theres layers to this mans hypocrisy HHSDHASHDDH #my fascination with chils avoidance like ive talked about above is the main motivation for tragedy au actually #imagine a world where he gets what he wants. he can change the narrative change himself and prevent anything that could possibly go wrong #and dream up a fantasy world where he can let go of all responsibility and his avoidant behavior has no consequences #id talk more about it but also im really sleepy and should be working so ill leave you with this for now #im... i gotta tag this man i worked too hard on it #chilchuck #chilchuck tims #dungeon meshi #yeagh. yeah!

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blainesebastian · 2 years

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you fit right here (ccg universe)

words: 4,059 ship: austin butler x reader summary: (combined requests): anon requested: "first red carpet with Austin, anxiety and panic attack" + @aloversblog requested "paps accidently hurt the reader and austin is protective" notes: tweaked the prompt here and there but the general premise is the same! ccg universe but for the most part, could be read alone warnings: none tag list: @killerqueenfan, @karamelcoveredolicity, @elizabethrosecresswell, @gigisworldsstuff, @stylesmendeshearted, @rairaielv

Sometimes on lazy Sunday mornings, when the sun hasn’t even pushed through the curtains yet, you find yourself thinking a lot about what’s happened to you in a short period of time and how you have to convince yourself that you’re not dreaming. No one wrote a how-to guide about what it was going to be like to date a celebrity and admittedly you’re figuring it out one step at a time. It’s definitely not always easy or what you expected but you find you wouldn’t trade it for anything either, even when you’re not quite sure how you fit into Austin’s world.

That isn’t to say that he hasn’t carved out space for you, because he has, but you worry that it won’t always make a difference. There are plenty of places in which you stick out, requesting that sense of belonging that is automatically given to others who have already earned it. It’ll take time, you know that, but it doesn’t remove the anxiety and waves of frustration as much as you’d like.

“You’re aware of how much that’s in your head?” Jillian, one of your best friends, had told you once. “Austin clearly doesn’t care and neither should you.”

And she’s right, you know she’s right. Austin doesn’t want you to be an actress, or the kid of a famous producer, a model, wrapped up in a celebrity story or Hollywood cautionary tale—he simply wants you to be you. No changes, no strings attached.

You let out a soft sigh as you press your cheek into your pillow, turning onto your one side.

You’re still working on accepting that.

Reaching over onto your nightstand, you turn your alarm off before it can interrupt the morning stillness. The mattress shifts underneath you as Austin turns, a soft shiver running down your spine as he wraps an arm around your torso. He shifts closer, letting out a long breath from his nose that flutters against the back of your neck. You can’t stop the smile from tugging the corners of your mouth as warmth pools in your stomach, working its way down to your knees.

This has to be one of your favorite morning routines, the slow morning wake-up, the way Austin’s body feels against your own, solid weight and soft skin. He presses a few kisses into your shoulder, mapping across until his nose and lips dip into a crevice near your neck—

You squirm a little, a soft huff leaving your mouth, “Stop—I’m ticklish there.” Though there’s really no indication in your voice that you actually want him to stop.

Austin smirks lightly but backs off, “I know.”

His hand slips down along your side, arm muscles flexing a little as he pulls you closer. Your head tips back, fitting perfectly against his shoulder, shifting so that your nose and lips brush along his jawline. You plant a kiss there, your hand settling along his own, tracing his fingers with your thumb.

“You got in late last night.”

He nods, brushing his lips on your temple, “Had a few drinks with some castmates after the late night talk show. I was gonna call you but—already knew what your answer would be.”

You chuckle lightly, amused—he definitely knows you. It was probably at least eleven, maybe even midnight. You were wrapped up in a burrito blanket by then. “Was it a good time?”

“Would have been better with you,” He squeezes you briefly, “I didn’t wake you when I came in, did I?”

You shake your head, turning so that you can face him. His touch slips down along your back and a pleasant noise leaves your lips as your hand moves up and under his shirt, “Barely, just remember you gettin’ into bed. Definitely not like that one time where you tripped over the comforter.”

Austin groans, tipping his head back a little in an eyeroll that makes you laugh, “Never gonna live that one down.”

“You knocked over the nightstand, almost squished my cat.”

“He was perfectly fine,” He attempts to kiss you but you playfully move your head in the opposite direction a few times. He grins before he finally clasps your chin between his fingers, keeping you still, and leans down to press his lips against yours.

“You want breakfast?” You ask, cupping his cheek, your thumb brushing over his full lower lip.

He plants a kiss to the pad of your thumb before shaking his head, “Gonna sleep a bit more, got that fashion event tonight and that always comes with an after party.”

There’s a slight eyeroll before he lifts his hand to run it over his face, a yawn slipping out of his mouth. God, that’s right. You completely forgot about that fashion thing that Austin invited you to as his guest, and a small pit begins to build in your stomach. While you’ve gone with him to plenty Elvis red carpet events, this is the first one you’ll be attending that has nothing to do with his film. There’s a certain comfort that’s automatically gone—at least with Elvis events, you felt like people knew you, maybe there was even some less judgement given that you were on the same set as everyone else through filming.

This though is completely different—your first outside event as a couple. Nerve-wracking for a bunch of reasons you can name and even more that you can’t.

Austin tilts his head a little, looking down at you, his hand trailing up and down your arm, “You’re shaking.”

You swallow, pushing those thoughts away as you give him a soft smile, “Just cold.”

He hums lightly, holding your gaze as he tugs the blanket up to cover you a bit more. He doesn’t quite look like he believes you but he doesn’t press either. Instead, he continues to rub your arm, creating small, patterned circles with his fingers.

Austin’s quiet for a few moments, both of you lingering in touches and shared breathing. You’re almost convinced he’s fallen back asleep but you know he’s just giving you time to consider words in your mouth.

“I have no idea what to do with myself for tonight.”

There’s a soft smile on his lips, as if he might have considered you’d say something like that, “I asked one of my stylists to come over, she’s worked with me on a few past events. You’ll like her,” He brushes hair over your shoulder, “She’s nice.”

You offer him a small nod, the twinge of your lips tugging up into a tired smile. You appreciate the gesture, you know he’s trying his best to make you feel comfortable but you can’t help but feel as if you’re beating down waves of imposter syndrome. Maybe a bit more sleep for yourself wouldn’t hurt either, time to approach this event head on.

You deserve to attend it as Austin’s guest, not only that, but you deserve how happy Austin makes you as his girlfriend.

“C’mere,” He whispers, encouraging you to lean against him as he turns to lie on his back. Letting out a soft sigh, you drape your arm across his waist, molding yourself along his chest. You fit directly under his chin, like a puzzle piece slipping into place.

Your eyes flutter closed as you memorize the sound of his breathing, the thumping of his heartbeat lulling you back to sleep.

Penny, as it turns out, is definitely one of the nicest people you’ve met in the industry. You suppose you shouldn’t have suspected any less when Austin said he’d worked with her in the past. She’s not pushy or judgmental when she arrives, which maybe you were a little bit afraid of. You’ve experienced stylists on set that can offer crude feedback as if they’re doing you the favor of being critical.

This lovely older woman is the exact opposite—she brings a selection of dresses that match what Austin’s going to wear, which is a navy pin-stripe suit, and then tells you to pick whatever shade of makeup you think your skin tone wears best and she’ll provide a series of options for ‘looks’. When you choose a silver dress, she suggests brown shades for eyeshadow and lipstick with a hint of sparkle just to tie everything together.

You really appreciate her attention to detail.

“Austin is one of the sweetest people I’ve ever worked with,” Penny tells you as she takes your hair out of a heated curler, “He listens and speaks with intention, you know? Doesn’t matter who you are.”

You hum lightly, taking a look at yourself in the mirror. Not a lot has changed, not some big movie reveal or something like that. Just you with your hair curled and makeup professionally done, a mix of soft neutrals and silver highlights.

“Yeah, he’s wonderful,” You agree, smiling at her through the mirror, “It’s one of the things I love about him.”

She smiles, taking another curler out. She then reaches for a big round brush, slipping the prongs through your locks to give the waves body. A bit of hairspray…then all done.

“You should know, he talks quite a bit about you too.” Penny takes a step back, giving you a onceover. “Nothing but proud of you.”

You can’t stop your cheeks from kissing pink, shaking your head because you’re still working on accepting sentiments like that. That you do, in fact, deserve them. Taking a breath, you stand from the chair and move to go put your dress on—you’ve got about a half n hour before you have to get going to make the event on time. Which is apparently the fashionable ‘ten minutes late’ sort of thing.

“Well thank you,” You smile as Penny reaches for your hands to squeeze, “I really appreciate it.”

“I didn’t do too much,” She laughs, “You’re beautiful darling—I just added some sparkle.”

You swallow, holding her gaze for a long moment and suddenly you feel compelled to tell her this fear that’s been sitting in your chest like a flurry of moths, gnawing holes into your ribs.

“This is the first event that I’m going to as Austin’s girlfriend outside of Elvis and…” You hesitate, wondering if it sounds silly or foolish. “I’m just not sure how I fit.” And then you realize that…probably requires some sort of explanation or…evidence of support?

You shake your head, getting ready to take the whole conversation back when Penny moves a step forward with a somewhat knowing smile. She places a hand on your chest, right over your heart,

“For Austin, you fit right here—okay?” You hold Penny’s gaze for a long moment and nod because…even though you know that? For some reason, you really needed to hear it. It doesn’t completely remove all your apprehension, but it does help. “That’s all that matters.”

Hoping to keep as much comfort as this conversation provides in your back pocket, you move to get finished for tonight’s event.

Despite the fact that Austin isn’t on social media very much, when you move to get into the SUV to leave, he snaps a candid of you to put on his Instagram story.

“You look so beautiful tonight,” He says, pocketing his phone.

A soft laugh leaves your lips as you approach him, resting your hand on his chest. “Stop.”

He’s really one to talk—he looks perfect, like straight out of a GQ magazine or something. The suit hugs him attractively, making your stomach swoop down to your knees, heat settling between your legs.

He hums, wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you close, leaning down to press a kiss to the corner of your lips, “Really nothin’ compared to what you had on last night before bed, but—”

You playfully push on his chest to get him to stop talking, a pretty flush resting on your cheeks.

Austin smiles, pulling the SUV door open for you to slip inside. The ride to the event is quiet, traffic a bit busy which…just ends up making your anxiety worse, the entire thing lengthened every time you stop at a red light. Running one of your hands nervously along your dress, you play with the soft fabric between your fingers, swallowing over your heartbeat in your ears as you look out the window.

You know it’s ridiculous to be scared about this red-carpet event—you know how Austin feels about you, you deserve to be there by his side, and even though others might see it differently? It doesn’t matter. The last thing you want to do is have Austin think that you can’t handle this.

“Y/N.”

You blink, turning your head to look at Austin who…seems like he’s been talking to you and you hadn’t even heard him. “What?”

His eyebrows crinkle together, his one hand moving across the middle of the backseat to rest over yours, “You alright?”

“Yeah, m’fine.” You give him a soft smile.

He holds your gaze for a long moment but doesn’t press, you’re sure he doesn’t believe you. “You know, we don’t have to stay at this thing for very long. I pretty much just need to be seen, talk to a few cameras, answer some questions, mingle after a few drinks.”

There’s a way out there, you can sense it but…really, you’re sure you’ll be fine after you have a glass or two of wine yourself. Just need to settle the nerves, take some deep breaths, follow Austin’s lead. It’ll be fine.

And you completely believe that until you begin to pull up, a block away, and see the massive crowd of people. Not just celebrities exiting their cars and walking onto the carpet, but a sea of fans embanked on both sides, lines upon lines of photographers and interviewers and—

Your heart begins pounding in your ears louder than before as the SUV pulls out of traffic to let you out and suddenly you feel utterly naked underneath this dress, a fraud, and it seems like something so obvious, tattooed on your forehead for everyone to see. You gulp down a breath, reaching a shaking hand for Austin’s forearm as he begins to open the door,

“Wait,” You choke out, “I can’t do this.”

Austin draws himself back into the SUV, frowning as he reaches to touch your shoulder, “Hey, hey, it’s okay.”

A harsh laugh leaves your lips and you straighten your shoulders, almost wanting to get out of the car because it doesn’t feel like oxygen is circulating into your lungs. Like the dress is too tight and you just want to tear it right off your skin, or move, something to stop your hands from shaking.

“No, it’s not—I can’t breathe.”

“Hey,” Both of Austin’s hands settle firmly on your shoulders, squeezing, preventing you from pulling away, “You’re okay, shh, just breathe.”

“I c-can’t,” Your hand falls to your chest, taking in a pathetic breath, your head spinning. Your eyes begin to fill with tears as you panic and Austin shakes his head gently, inching closer to you in the back seat.

“Yes you can,” He assures, voice gentle, smooth like honey, “Look at me, you’re okay. Take a slow breath, try and hold it in your lungs.”

Your eyes seek out Austin’s gaze, calm and collected, and somehow that helps you do exactly as he asks. You draw a deep breath in your lungs, hold it, and then let it out. It’s shaky at first but it does the trick, the next breath easier than the last.

“There you go,” He whispers, bringing his hand up to stroke through your hair, settling along your neck as you calm down.

You sniffle, running your fingers along the underside of your one eye, trying so carefully not to mess up any makeup even though you feel like a splotched mess. Shaking your head, you allow Austin’s hand to slip around the back of your neck and pull you into his chest. You feel relief flood through your system, your eyes closing as you rest against him, face tucked into his neck.

He strokes a hand up and down your back, letting you take some time to breathe easier for a few minutes before,

“Why didn’t you just tell me you were feelin’ uncomfortable?”

You shake your head, pulling back just a bit to look at him. You can’t imagine how much of a mess you must look like now, all of Penny’s work gone to waste. “Because I was bein’ ridiculous.”

Austin shakes his head, lacing your fingers with his, “Don’t do that,” He says gently, “Your feelings are not ridiculous.”

You sniffle again, glancing down at the silver accent jewelry he has on, the cool metal of his rings pressing against your skin. “I just—I’ve been to events with you before, I don’t understand why this one has me so wigged out.”

Austin leans his shoulder against the backseat, glancing out the back window at the event down the street. Flashes of cameras, the roar of the crowd, the brightness of the lights. He rubs his thumb along the back of your hand for a few moments,

“I understand more than anyone how overwhelming it can be, there’s no shame in that.” He offers you a soft smile, picking your hand up and pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “There’s no timeline on this thing, you can take as much or as little as you need.”

His words plant seeds of comfort in your chest and it does make you feel better to know where his head is at with this whole thing. There’s a slight bit of foolishness heating the back of your neck because…a lot of this probably could have been avoided if you just would have talked to him in the first place. You replay his words a few times over in your mind and he’s right. There’s no blueprint to this thing, you gotta figure it out for yourself.

And what better way to do it than with Austin by your side?

Giving him a genuine smile, you lean over and press a kiss to his cheek, “Thank you.”

Austin smiles back, squeezing your hand in his before motioning towards the event with a slight head nod, “Want to try again?”

And you know if you asked, you could skip this event with Austin altogether. But that’s the last thing you want to do. So you draw a soft breath into your chest and nod, pulling out a small compact to check your makeup, wipe away any smudges, and reapply a bit of lipstick. Turning in your seat, you open the SUV door and climb out, meeting Austin halfway.

He takes your hand into his again, easily lacing your fingers. Austin had once told you—the only opinions that matter are here in this trailer. You and me.

With that thought settling warmly in your chest, you straighten your shoulders, squeeze Austin’s hand and walk towards the red-carpet.

All in all, the event itself goes pretty smoothly. You don’t let yourself worry about how you're perceived by others, about what people might think about your relationship with Austin, whether they might ‘speculate’ about where you belong, where you fit. But it's right there, right next to Austin, your hands joined together as you walk down the carpet towards the event.

There's pausing every so often for photographs and interviews, but Austin always makes sure to include you. You hope he understands that it's not necessary, that you understand that you're still dipping your toes into this world, that Austin's place is a bit more etched out. After photos of him are taken, he opens his arm out towards you, inviting you to stand right next to him. When questions are thrown his way, he draws you into talking, or brings up the script you're writing.

Penny was right, he is proud of you—you can see it as plain as day on his face, the way his eyes kinda light up when you speak. It means more to you than you can put into words.

The event itself is fun—you mingle, have drinks, meet people in the industry that aren't just interested in you being Austin's girlfriend. You’re pleasantly surprised and feel a warm glow about the entire night wrap around you as you leave with Austin after a few hours. He shrugs off his suit jacket, placing it over your shoulders as he takes a look down the carpet for his usual driver.

There's a few lingering paps, getting photographs and attempting to ask questions about where you’re going for the night, if there's any other after parties that you’re interested in going to. You kinda let out a soft laugh because—you're interested in going home, maybe grabbing a large pizza and a bottle of wine.

Austin shares a look with you, giving you a smile—he knows you well.

You've learned, for the most part, that paps keep their distance while asking questions and taking photos but you also know that there's a select few that don't care about personal space. They want that one shot, that one question that'll set them apart from others, and unfortunately you can feel someone come up from behind you as you and Austin walk towards the curb to cross the street to where the SUV is parked.

It's a bad combination of not enough space and you looking over your shoulder instead of where you're stepping and you misjudge the curb, twisting your ankle. A sharp noise leaves your lips and you grab onto Austin's arm to steady yourself so you don't hit the pavement. And you think it'd be enough for the pap to back off but he keeps coming, shoving the camera in your face, reaching out his hand to...help maybe? You're not sure. Either way, Austin isn't having it.

"Don't touch her," He puts an arm out to create a barrier between you and the pap.

"Was an accident Austin," The pap replies, lowering his camera. You frown, lifting your ankle to briefly rub at the bone before putting your foot back on the ground again. Not terrible, you can walk on it.

"I don't care if it was an accident or not, you need to put some distance between yourself and my girlfriend, man. There's a certain respect that goes a long way."

You gently squeeze onto his forearm to assure him it's fine, but the pap at least seems to understand that, nodding before he backs up. Austin helps you cross the street, opening the door for you to get in, a breath of relief leaving your lips as the SUV pulls out into traffic and you head back home.

You sigh gently from the corner of your couch, in your pjs, with fuzzy socks absolutely needed. Your ankle is propped up on a small pillow, Austin coming over and shaking an ice pack before wrapping it in a dish towel. He gently lifts the pillow and slides underneath so that he’s sitting next to you, your ankle on his lap.

“Think it’ll need amputated or are you gonna make it?” He teases, the warm palm of his hand resting along your leg as he gently positions the ice pack.

A short laugh leaves your lips, “Are you calling me dramatic?” You crinkle your nose at him but you’re smiling, “I’m not the one who was yelling at the pap.”

Austin rolls his eyes, running a hand through his hair. He’s got these large curls near his forehead today—literally unfair how beautiful he is. “Yeah, well, should be no surprise at this point that I’m protective of you.”

Giving your boyfriend a soft smile, something warm blooming in your chest, you reposition yourself to lean over and plant a kiss on his cheek before resting your head on his shoulder. Austin hums lightly, turning chin to rest his lips along your forehead, a ghost of a kiss too.

Despite how the day started out, the nerves threatening to spill over, and now the swollen ankle—not a bad way to end the night. You certainly wouldn’t trade it for anything else. This, after all, is exactly where you fit. Right against Austin, perfectly.

#austin butler #austin butler x reader #austin butler imagine #austin butler fic #elvis 2022 #mccall writes things #ccg

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