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#media placed in order of the ones i thought of/assume tumblr would be most familiar with
rubensmuse · 4 months
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here's a link to his IMDB to check for your favorite property if you're not sure
EDIT: FORGOT ABOUT OZ, I FULLY INTENDED TO ADD IT BUT IT SLIPPED MY MIND...As for Law & Order I entirely underestimated his impact in those episodes so I will take that L
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flightfoot · 1 year
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As someone who hasn't engaged much with the Tumblr Side of the miraculous fandom for a long time can you explain to me this place's reputation for salt fics? Every social media platform seems to hate certain characters more than others and I'm aware of Tumblr's preference for certain characters over others. It seems the salt fics and authors have died down since the heights it had in season 3, I try not to pay attention to that stuff cause it seems really dumb. If you could perhaps explain it to someone that's not familiar I'd appreciate it.
The Tumblr crowd tends to be heavily associated with AO3, so there's a lot of similarities between what's popular on AO3 and what's popular on tumblr. The salt fics and authors have massively died down on say, FFN, where they've mostly died out, but they're still going strong on AO3. The saltdom is more quarantined (especially compared to season 3, when it was pretty much unavoidable while still participating in the fandom at all), but it's still pretty strong in the places where it's still around.
Tvtropes has a decent run-down of some of the common Saltfic plots on its Fandom Specific Plots page, so if you want more information, that's a good start.
Basically, the idea is that the author projects onto Marinette, and doesn't really care about most of the other characters, and the other (canonically good) characters tend to be made into horrible people for not being sufficiently loyal to her, in order to justify giving her new friends who worship the ground she walks in and will freely hurt anyone who "mistreated" Marinette.
Luka's often used as her new Love Interest since Adrien's declared to be a sexual harasser and lazy and useless as Chat Noir, and to be a spineless useless doormat for not teaming up with Marinette to try to expose Lila in Chameleon (his later efforts to help Marinette in Ladybug, once he knows that Lila's actually malicious, is usually ignored). Luka basically just revolved around Marinette and never pushed her or seemed to have any desires or baggage of his own in seasons 2 and 3, so he was often used as a partially blank slate who could be altered to be whatever the author thought Marinette's ideal boyfriend should be like, who would care about Marinette's point of view and wellbeing, and ONLY that, with no consideration for anyone else's perspective or feelings, making him the perfect defender for her.
Chloe's particularly popular with the saltdom, especially post-season 3, since a lot of fans feel like she got a raw deal. Though she was popular among the saltdom even back when Chameleon aired, and... honestly for pretty fair reasons? A lot of the earliest Chameleon fics ran with the idea of Lila making good on the threats she'd made, turning Marinette's friends against her. Since Alya and the class in general had shown a susceptibility to Lila's manipulation and lies, it was often assumed that Lila could sufficiently lie and manufacture evidence to fool them into thinking that Marinette wasn't a good person, while Lila wouldn't put in that effort to trick Chloe, who wasn't Marinette's friend, and who also wasn't doing much of anything in Chameleon, so it was unknown whether she was fooled by Lila's lies.
Problem was, that somewhat reasonable plotline kept on being flanderized into making Chloe into being the one person who cared about Marinette and could tell she wouldn't do the things she was accused of, and Alya and the class in general kept on being warped into being horrific bullies who'd physically hurt Marinette, destroy her property, and suicide bait her. And even when that plotline was both thoroughly exhausted AND was proven wrong by canon with "Ladybug" acting as "Chameleon's" follow-up, they still kept going.
A lot of people really like "the main character is horribly mistreated by the people who should always have their back no matter what, so the people who supposedly should be their enemies recognize how horribly they've been mistreated and team up with them instead, inflicting horrific vengeance and punishment on those who didn't treat them the way they deserved" plotlines. You see it commonly in Harry Potter, Pokemon, and more recently, Encanto fics, for example. (the "teaming up with enemies" part is optional. Sometimes the other party is just considered "better" because they're more unquestioningly loyal to the main character).
Anyway, I'm not totally sure if this explanation was what you were looking for, but I tried my best.
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lawonderlandwriter · 4 years
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So here is all that has happened and all that I know and all of my thoughts on this intra-ship-tag war. For anyone who cares to read.
I hadn't written a new fic in a while. Not since Season 8 was airing, so I was not really aware of what was going on until one fic in particular where Jon has an abusive past, started getting negative attention. Most people will know which fic I’m talking about (for the purposes of this post, I’ll refer to it as FIC1). 
I had come across the fic randomly and skimmed it, deciding it seemed interesting and I would read it fully when I had the chance. Then I saw the hate the fic was getting and I read it fully immediately. I thought the fic was incredibly well written and wasn’t in any way a Jon-hate fic. Some parts of the fic I even was a tiny bit uncomfortable for the way it portrayed Dany, but I was too interested to let those parts get to me and I have since kept up with it and plan to read it until it’s conclusion. 
When I saw the hate on FIC1, I posted about it. How I thought the fic didn’t deserve the hate it was getting and how I thought people were casting judgement without really reading it, just commenting based on what they had heard about it and the author. 
This got me some hate but I stood by my fellow author. 
This was when I first heard of the “Discord” group. 
Everything I knew about the discord was hearsay as I am not and have never been involved in it. I heard the discord was all men who stanned Jon Snow and hate-commented on any fic they didn't like and had been policing the tag since basically the S8 finale. As I had seen hate comments on fics with my own eyes, I had no reason to question this. 
Especially when fics began showing up in the tag of Dany getting raped in response to each time FIC1 would update. Comments on those fics were sarcastic and crude and supportive. I have never used A03 as a social media platform so I was not and still am not very familiar with usernames. 
More accusations flew around that those responsible for these fics and fics that plagairised FIC1 stemmed from the Discord. I had no reason to believe otherwise (but I also had no reason to believe it was all Discord people either which I should not have so readily believed).
More fics were posted by authors I read and respect and more hate was flung around. Again, the Discord was blamed, perhaps* wrongly. My prejudice against this supposed discord group grew.
Then I started writing “Queens Always Have the Last Word” (QAHTLW). At first, the response was positive - everyone seemingly hates Sansa. A few complained I wasn’t changing Jon’s general S8 demeanor which annoyed me. I had made it perfectly clear in the tags that the story would focus on Dany - and I had already written a fic for Jon where he was the star and got the last word. This was her turn. 
I did not and still do not consider it a Jon-hate fic or that the fic is an attack on Jon’s character in any way. I kept Jon essentially close to his S8 self but added a bit more to him - additions I thought were positive.
But my fic was somehow labeled “Jon Snow hate.”  
Some people in comments on my and other fics have said something about S8 fics being “serious” fics, hence why I guess my QAHTLW was labeled “Jon hate.”
For one, this to me this seemed an incredibly arbitrary rule and it still seems incredibly arbitrary. That S8 fics HAVE to be “serious”. Why is it just S8 fics?
For those wondering, my understanding of a “serious” fic is a fic that HAS to feature Jon and Dany as being 100% equal to each other and the narrative HAS to treat them as 100% equal and be kind to both of them. 
If a fic is not considered “serious”, it is okay for Jon and Dany to not be 100% equal or treated equal by the narrative - one example of “non-serious” fics in the Jonerys A03 tag were harem fics. 
At least, that’s what I’ve been told by commenters - harem fics are okay to be in the Jonerys tag on A03 (even though they are incredibly unequal in regards of who gets to sleep with who) because apparently “no one takes them seriously.”
This is what I have been told: “No one takes harem fics seriously.”
So, because of this new standard set forth by people who either had been policing the tag, or people trying to explain the motives behind people policing the tag, a line became drawn. 
Those of us who don’t write or read harem fics, we (I, rather, but others likely as well) began to see this line as “Jon Snow stans” and “Daenerys stans”. Because it’s highly unlikely many Dany fans would want to read fics where Jon just gets to smash everyone in ASOIAF.
So then I had a pretty damning encounter with someone in the comments of Chapter 4 of QAHTLW. The hate started off right out the gate:
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This comment was a lot of things at once. 1) It cemented for me this weird divide between “Tumblr” (“Tumblrinas” as some call us) writers and “others” (I assumed all the “others” were Discord users). 2) It cemented for me that all the “others” were exclusively Jon fans, due to the accusation here that I don’t care about Jon, and 3) it was the first time I had been told to literally stop writing and leave to community. 
I reacted immediately. The encounter was petty (yes, I was petty too, fully admit it) and went on for several comments. Then my hate commenter responded with this:
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I had seen that “reeeeeeee” before. Just a day before actually, here on Tumblr. It wasn't a post of mine, but a response to one of my mutual’s posts. The person who reblogged with the “reeeeeeeee” comment left a nasty note about Dany going crazy - it was clearly a comment meant to be offensive to Dany stans. I reblogged said post and blocked the user who had made the “reeeeee” comment.
So because my hate commenter on A03 used the same language as the Tumblr reblogger, I called him out on it, thinking I knew who he was. We went back and forth on that for another round of comments, and then he sent me this:
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1) The user claims he is not the same person from Tumblr, 2) he admits to being in the “Discord” group, 3) He admits the Tumblr user I had blocked posts things from Tumblr to share with the Discord group for the purposes of making fun of us, and 4) he admits to using a “throwaway” account on A03 in order to avoid being banned by the site, should his comments get reported. 
Because of this encounter, I felt I had enough information to pass blanket judgement on the Discord group. To me, because of this person’s comments, the Discord was a place where male Jon Snow fans hung out and talked shit about Dany stans from Tumblr. 
And because this person had said things from Tumblr were shared (and laughed at) on the Discord, and because the very next day I posted a link on my Tumblr to QAHTLW, I felt I had made a connection. 
To me, it seemed like this hate comment stemmed from the Discord and was encouraged because of my reblogging of the Tumblr post. 
These comments on my fic felt like retaliation for something that had happened on Tumblr. 
It felt calculated. It felt systematic. It felt purposeful. It felt really fucking creepy. 
I reported it to A03.
A little while after the encounter, I got a final comment from this person. He had deleted his “throwaway” account and whatever other account he had been using, leaving me this on anon:
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While I did think him a jerk for all the things he had said, I can respect this. Thank you whoever you are for realizing you were being a bully. My comments to you were rude as well, I know. 
But he admitted his fault in instigating the argument and said he would stop. So, I can only say, respect. 
Still, though one person had left this “tag policing” behind, it had opened a can of worms. Again, he had admitted to the discord sharing and laughing at shit from Tumblr. And so far as I knew, he only found my fic because of the Discord (may or may not be true, but that’s how it came across to me at the time).  
My view of the Discord was lowered further. 
Then, another "problematic” Jonerys fic was posted. We’ll call this FIC2. 
I didn’t think anything of it, honestly. I really, seriously didn’t. 
It was by an author I love to death so naturally, anything she writes, I excitedly reblog. Which I did. I didn't do so with any kind of snide remark, I wasn’t thinking about the fic’s treatment of Jon (because I didn’t think the fic would treat Jon badly...and it didn’t), I didn’t think about the other characters this fic involved. Nothing. 
I was seriously just fucking reblogging a fic from a friend, and then of course left a generic “loved it, this was hot!” comment on the fic on A03. 
And I got hate for that. Surprise Surprise:
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This is two comments from, I’m assuming, two different users. Both were on anon. Once again, we were called “Tumblrinas”.
But a new level to this creepiness was added. 
Someone started using my name on A03 as their anon name. 
(The above comment thread has since been deleted but I screenshot it before the delete because I wanted to report to A03 - using someone else’s name and/or misrepresenting another user is very much in violation of A03s Terms of Service).
So that was the first fic this happened on but this person from FIC2 has since been going on all kinds of Jonerys fics on A03 leaving more comments, calling himself “LAStoryWriterAlex’s Rules and Regulations Enforcer.”
This was on another “problematic” fic (I won’t call it Jon hate because FFS it’s NOT Jon hate!):
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Along with leaving a sarcastic remark about how I and my “crew of miscreants” apparently have now made a rule that “you can only leave praise in comments”, this person also called the fic he was commenting on “garbage”. So, rude. 
Then he left this on a RAPE fic:
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He did not call the RAPE fic “garbage” and even used “please” and “thank you”.
Because this all seemed to stem from my reblog of FIC2 on Tumblr, I again assumed that this person, my “rules and regulations enforcer,” was from the Discord and had only seen my reblog of FIC2 because someone had snapshotted it and shown it to the Discord. 
I admit, it was wrong of me to assume this. I have no way of knowing if this person is from the Discord or not. But because of my last encounter, and as this was another thing that seemed to start from Tumblr, this is what I assumed. 
Then I posted my Dandry fic, Retrograde. 
You all know what happened with that.
In all honesty, I didn't write this to “piss off the incels”. (I also apologize for calling the entire Discord incels. I now know a few of you and realize this was a mistake). I wrote this fic because the idea came to me, it excited me, and once I started writing, I couldn’t stop. I was having fun with it. I’ve never shipped Dany/Gendry before, but since 8x04, this fic was always an idea in the back of my mind and I himhawed with writing it, mostly because I was busy with other things, but I worked on it. And when I got the first chapter done I posted.
And all hell broke loose. 
At first I had anon commenting enabled, but then disabled it because I just couldn’t fucking take it. It was exhausting. 
I got kind comments, I got neutral comments, I got rude comments, I got people arguing with each other in the comments, and then I got just fucked up comments -
Comments about me, my family, my weight:
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In short, my parents should have aborted me brutally, my mother is a dirty whore, I’m cancer (not the zodiac sign I’m guessing), and I’m allegedly fat. 
I admit, the fat one got to me. I’m not fat, never have been overweight. But I do occasionally obsess about my weight, so that one got a reaction from me and I know, I know it shouldn’t have. But I made note anyway, of the fact that all my profiles are linked and there are pics of me in existence online that prove I’m not fat - I wanted to prove I’m not fat. My vanity got the better of me and so invited people to find pictures of me. Which had certain consequences I’ll discuss in a moment. 
I also got fucked up comments about Gendry and Dany - Dany in that apparently she’s a whore, and Gendry because he’s an uneducated bastard. Which, way to go elitist scum. I really don’t feel bad about saying that. These comments are elitist and misogynistic. Really makes me wonder what people would think of Jon if the show hadn’t made him legitimate. Would they all still stan him then? Do they only like him because he was heir to the throne??
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Anyway, that as just the first two pages! (There were more supportive comments than not - I think) but there are now 8 pages of comments. So you can only guess what the rest of those 8 pages contain. 
I got all kinds of anons on Tumblr because of this. Some who supported my fic - thank you - and others who spewed the same kind of drivel from A03. I’m a whore, cunt, dumb bitch, awful writer, etc. 
Then, because I had exposed myself and made note of all my profiles being linked (which I had initially done so friendly A03 people could find my Tumblr if they didn’t already connect the two), I started getting anons commenting on, of all things, my fucking forehead, which apparently is larger than normal? Whatever, fuck you, I think I’m adorable, so there. 
I got an anon recently talking about the connection myself and others had made between the Discord and the revenge rape fics.
I agreed with anon in my response, that it was wrong for me to blame the Discord for fics like the beastiality fic in the tag. I pointed out however, that people were not attacking that writer the way they’ve been attacking me and others.
Again, it was wrong of me to assume all people in the Discord were leaving the hate comments. I admit that and I apologize for it. 
But I have proof (above) that at least one of the people policing the tag was from the Discord. And I have since had reason to believe some in the Discord still police the tag and do so quite hatefully. 
I was thinking about this most recent anon a lot since I got it and answered it. And then today when I was cursing the tag...
I came across one of the Modern Targcest fics. 
And I saw red. 
I clicked on the A03 “Collection” and skimmed through. Many of the fics were ones I had already seen/skimmed or read. But looking at the collection as a whole, I got an impression of the tag. 
And yes, I admit, my impression did not apply to all fics. And even the fics it did apply to, I should have never called out. 
I wanted to make a point, and I went about it the wrong way. 
The point I had wanted to make was that all the people policing the tag were hypocrites because these DubCon fics (some are less consensual than others) had relatively low engagement compared to my fic which was 100% consensual.
This still is something that bothers me, honestly, though it is through no fault of the authors of these DubCon fics. 
I just really hate that those fics are left relatively in peace and a fic like mine is not. Do I want those fics to get more hate? No. I just want the hate on mine and others like it to stop.
But I did go about it the wrong way. 
Certain people felt I misrepresented certain fics when I made THIS post. I roped all the fics into one category, and made an assumption about them all and that was wrong. 
Also, some people thought by making this post, I was saying that these authors “like” rape or are real life rape apologists, which was not my intention either. 
I still believe some of these fics are on a rape-spectrum. I’m sorry, that’s just what DubCon is. Not all of these DubCon fics are rapey, but some of them are. 
And it’s fine if that’s what you want to write and read. Really, it is. As I’ve stated, fanfic is a SAFE place for people to explore taboos, like rape and incest. Just because we read and write about it, doesn’t mean we would ever do it in real life. In fic, it’s fine though. 
And I apologize if my post came off as kink-shaming. Not my intention. 
Again, my intention was merely to point out the discrepancy in reaction to these fics because to me, a DubCon fic is more problematic than a cheating fic. My opinion. You may not share my opinion. 
Really my intention here was for people to realize that, if you can turn a blind eye to DubCon (something I find pretty problematic), then you should also be able to spare the same courtesy to other fics, like cheating, cuck, or “Jon Snow hate fics” - (and it’s always someone’s opinion whether or not the fic is truly Jon Snow hate).
If Dany fans can make it through the tag without commenting on some of the more extreme DubCon fics, and through the Harem fics, then Jon Snow fans should be able to make it through the tag without commenting on the cheating and the cuck fics. (and if Jon Snow fans can pass the harem fics and not think anything of them and not hate comment, they should be able to pass by the cuck fics too!!) - cuz I don’t want people to assume I’m accusing all Jon fans of liking those harem fics. Probably many of you don’t. But if you’ve left hate on a cuck fic, but not a harem fic, that’s hypocritical. It really is. 
If you’ve policed the tag and harassed an author for “punishing” Jon in their fic telling the author that they’re not really a Jon fan or not really a Jonerys fan, but you haven’t done the same in a harem (or similar) fic and stuck up for say, Dany, claiming the author isn’t a real Dany/Jonerys fan, you’re a hypocrite. 
Because as I’ve pointed out, Jon and Dany aren’t at all treated the same or equal in those kinds of fics. 
This isn't to say those fics are wrong, or shouldn’t be written, or don’t belong in the tag. It’s just to say if you give them a pass, you must also give a pass to everyone else. 
You can’t just pick and choose which “unequal” Jonerys fics are allowed and which aren’t. 
Which S8 fix-it-fics are allowed and which aren’t.
Which fics are “serious” and which are “non-serious”. (Many of the harem/breeding fics have Jon/Dany as the main pairing!)
Which are written by “real” Jonerys fans and which aren’t.
You don’t get to just make shit up. 
Yes, some Dany stans are angry at Jon and want to punish him in their fics for S8 and make him sit by and watch while Dany hooks up with Daario or resurrected Drogo or Gendry or whoever.
Some Jon stans want Jon to breed Missandei and Sansa while still being married to Dany because they want to make Dany barren in their narrative even though in actual ASOIAF canon, she’s probably not.
It’s called, Deal with it. 
Again, no one here is on the “right” side. No one should be policing the tag. Period. 
Also, side note, no one should be insulting authors looks or using the public photos authors use as a way to harass them. This isn’t only happening to me. If we post photos of our lives, it’s because we want to share with people. It’s not an invitation for you to use that against us. Don’t be fucking creepy. And if you know if someone being fucking creepy, tell them to stop!
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gumnut-logic · 4 years
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Wings & Water (Part One)
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Title: Wings & Water
Part One
Author: Gumnut
Feb 2020
Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go 2015/ Thunderbirds TOS
Rating: Teen
Summary: “I needed to get your attention.”
Word count: 5451
Spoilers & warnings: Marks & Wings AU, Wing!fic, shapeshifting, Virgil/Kayo, Gordon/Penelope (eventually)
Timeline: Sometime post-‘John’. All the fics can be found on Ao3, the timeline order and artwork can be found on my website.
Author’s note: This is the universe I write when I’m feeling tired, off or unable to write anything else. It is little more than self-indulgence usually, an exercise to find my writing mojo, to play with sensation and description. So tired one night a few nights back I scribbled down what was supposed to be just a scene with Kay and Virgil on the beach. The characters apparently had other ideas and now I have another WIP ::headdesk:: Why do I even try? So, I’ve given up trying to write it in one go and now offer you Part One instead of a complete fic. Fortunately, it does not end on a cliffhanger or anything and could almost be considered complete except for one serious plot thread which is actually quite subtle anyway..
Many thanks to both @scribbles97​ and @vegetacide​ for the read throughs and advice ::hugs you both:: I got wibbly and those who read my Tumblr may recall the ‘floppy’ Virgil post I made in the middle of writing this. Here be the Floppy Virgil I was talking about. I hope you enjoy it anyway.
Disclaimer: Mine? You’ve got to be kidding. Money? Don’t have any, don’t bother.
-o-o-o-
It had been a long mission.
Virgil hit the locker rooms with a drawn out sigh. The irrational part of him just wanted to shed uniform in a trail behind him, but his disciplined mind refused to let him. So his baldric was shed and stowed for cleaning and redeployment along with his tool kit and harness. His boots did get kicked under the bench and he would no doubt get words about it later, but at this point he didn’t care.
His mark ached.
And his mind was a battlefield for angry brothers.
He shed his uniform, draping the heavy material over the bench. His black undershirt quickly followed and the cool air of the room hit his skin causing it to goose pimple in response.
His groan as he bent over, stretching the dark lines sculpted into his back, came from somewhere deep inside. He needed to lift, but god, he was tired.
A glance at the shower stalls and he longed for the water drumming on his skin, but the cubicle was too small, too confining. He had to stretch out.
The smallest of groans.
It had been a rockslide. Steep mountain side. Small village.
Children.
He closed his eyes.
They didn’t often lift during rescues. The whole mystic behind their wings was something that either terrified the rescuees more or resulted in amazement and a hailstorm of questions, most of which none of them had time or care to answer.
And god forbid if the media was there.
Which in this day and age only had to be a phone.
A little boy had fallen from a height and Virgil had reacted on instinct. Lifting his massive eight metre span within an eye blink, he launched himself into the air just in time to save the toddler from the sharp rocks below.
The film was still showing on loop on CNN.
The questions of his heritage, their history, previous shots of the Tracy brothers flying...it all came up again.
None of them were happy.
John and Eos did their best to contain the outbreak, but there were limits.
Virgil just wanted to hide.
Kay was still inbound. Alan was up with John, and Scott was still on site at the rock slide. Gordon had come home with Virgil, but his brother had spent the whole trip mentally kicking himself and the aquanaut had promptly disappeared after the necessary post-flight tasks.
And was currently circling the Island waterbound.
Water.
A frown as he bent over to pick up his uniform. Perhaps Gordon had the right of it. A swim, to rinse the clammy feeling from his skin, to stretch out, to relax.
The uniform was chucked in the laundry chute and he grabbed a towel, throwing it over his shoulder. Deciding his undershorts satisfactory, he headed down to the lagoon.
-o-o-o-
Shadow was a beautiful ‘bird to fly. Kayo had flown all the Thunderbirds at one time or another, but Shadow was just elegance in the air, a ballerina up against the rest of the fleet’s brute strength.
Of course, this had its downsides. She was quiet, but not as strong as her sisters. More prone to engine damage under stress and she could carry much less. But these were small sacrifices to let her dance in the sky. More the bird of prey she emulated than should ever be possible.
Kayo flew out of the setting sun on approach to Tracy Island, killing her ‘bird’s forward momentum and activating the docking platform, ready to receive. As was her practise, she flew a standard sensory loop around the perimeter of the Island on approach. She took the opportunity to double check the Island’s security sensors with those highly sensitive scanners built into her ‘bird.
It was reassuring to see all the check sums add up nicely.
Particularly considering the media shit storm currently underway.
She had been on the other side of the planet, liaising with Penny. But the moment she saw Virgil on the nets...Penny had urged her to go. Kayo had no doubts the aristocrat would follow shortly as soon as she could tie up their business.
The Tracys hated what the media could do to them.
This wasn’t the first time. Probably not the last. But that didn’t stop it from hurting.
She knew Virgil. She knew it would get to him first.
Scott would rant and rave. John would steam in his station until Eos called for help. Fortunately Alan was already up there so would probably drag him down with the first excuse he could come up with. Gordon would disappear into the ocean.
Penny would have to go fishing, literally.
Alan, out of all of them, cared the least. She wasn’t sure why, but the youngest just turned a blind eye and shrugged the rest off. Though she did have some knowledge regarding an anonymous caller on a late night talk show the last time this had happened. It hadn’t sounded anything like Alan, but the presenter had been verbally shredded in a very exacting way.
Alan was a smart young man. He didn’t take well to his big brothers being compared to water fowl or chickens.
It was the chickens that probably did it.
But no one other than her and Eos knew he was responsible and she planned to keep it that way.
As Shadow banked she flew over one of the beaches and Kayo got a glimpse of a figure in the water. For a split second she assumed it was Gordon, but the more familiar and intimate profile sank into her mind as she turned back for docking.
It was Virgil.
Her heart tightened.
It had definitely gotten to him.
She hurried through docking procedures and post-flight, hitting the lockers and shedding her uniform as quickly as possible. She unpinned her hair, threw on a sports bra and shorts and darted through the house and out into the trail that led down to the beach.
It was the same beach where he did his regular workout. The same beach he had caught her out and kissed her silly so long ago.
It was a beach with wonderful memories. No doubt the reason why he had chosen to come here.
She wasn’t quiet on approach this time. Her flip flops cracked twig and gravel alike. She wanted him to know she was there.
She needn’t have bothered.
He was waist deep, staring out into the water. His whole upper torso was cast in the gold from the setting sun, leaving his mark an iridescent intricacy of a starry midnight of lines and swirls across his back, shoulders and biceps. The light couldn’t touch it and, as always, she found it mesmerising.
Her feet reached the edge of the water and the wavelets of the lagoon caressed her toes.
She opened her mouth to call his name, but he suddenly hunched a little and lifted.
Black feathers splashed into the water and he groaned aloud, startling her.
God, he was hurting.
But before she could say anything, his wings unfolded to their full span, flinging water in every direction.
They never failed to impress her. Black, iridescent and just huge. He stretched them out to their full extent and held them there. His arms appeared above his head and he stretched with another groan.
Kayo threw herself into the water, wading in behind him, reaching up to rest her hands on his shoulders, brush her cheek against his soft downy back feathers.
He tensed for just that second before recognition set in and he melted under her touch.
“Kay.” His voice was rough and ever so weary. His arms came down and his wings drooped slightly into the water.
Her hands slid from his shoulders, brushing gently across feathers enough to make him shiver, before slipping up under his wings and arms to curl around his chest where he caught them and held her close.
She exhaled amongst down. “I’m sorry, love.”
His breath came out as a soft sigh, his body wilting just a little more against her. “Had to do it. Had to save him.”
“I know.”
His head dropped a little more and she needed to see his expression.
Ducking, she dove under his wing and surfaced in front of him, pushing to her feet as water ran off her body.
His eyes were ever so sad.
Touching a finger to his cheek, she leant up and kissed him gently.
His response was immediate, drawing her in with his arms, his wings leaving wake as they skipped across the water surface to encircle her. His kiss drew her in, his passion feeding hers and for a moment there, it was just the two of them.
But reality quickly intruded at that thought because it never really was just the two of them.
She broke off the kiss, wrapping herself around him, drawing his forehead down to touch hers. “Tell me.”
Another soft groan and he looked down.
“C’mon, love.”
“Gordon blames himself. He feels he should have been in place to prevent the child from falling. John disagrees. I disagree. But he won’t listen. He’s hurting and I can’t help him.”
She had done her best to understand the three brothers and their connection. They could hear each other. Not words, just sensations, emotions. The impressions Virgil described were ever so visual, so tied into how her lover’s mind worked, they were quite frankly amazing. He spoke of starlit blues and magnesium bright golds when speaking of his brothers. But how he processed these into interpretations of what they were thinking, she did not know.”
“Can you tell where he is?”
“Circling the Island like a lost soul.”
“Penny will be here soon.”
“Thank god.”
She brushed the back of her fingers against his cheek, nails dancing over two days’ stubble. He was so tired. He needed sleep. But she knew he wouldn’t be able to until his brother found some peace.
A decision and she straightened slightly. “Swim with me?”
He leant in and kissed her forehead, her eyebrow, her temple, her cheek...he trailed his lips all the way down to her mouth and again took moments, his tongue slipping in between her teeth seeking hers. His arms tightened around her, lifting her in the water, almost clinging.
Her eyes closed and her only sensation was him.
-o-o-o-
Virgil sometimes wondered how he had survived before finding Kay’s love. Obviously, he had, and he had been happy as a member of an extraordinary family, but now her touch was capable of consuming him, blocking the world out and giving such comfort to his soul.
He broke off the kiss and ran his fingers through her wet hair. Her hands moved to his chest, brushing through fine feathers and hair alike.
The need to rest was aching in his bones, but the tired spark who was his younger brother was fizzling in the back of his mind and the silent fury of John so far above them was a burn that gave him no relief.
He didn’t blame them. No, there was no fault in this, either in the effect or the reason. All he wanted to do was reach out and reassure. But Gordon wasn’t listening, John was still juggling the after effects as he and Eos took out copies of that damned video and the commentary that came with it.
There were no fuzzy or poorly caught video files. Technology compensated for lighting and speed and the footage of himself running, his feathers sprouting through his uniform as he moved was ever so clear. His yell as he launched himself into the air, even the sound of straining wing beats as he took off almost vertically could be heard. He weighed more with all his kit strapped to his body and it had been hard work to get airborne at that angle and speed.
But he had managed it. Caught the screaming child mid air. He had been forced to gain more height to even out his flight before banking in an arc to land beside a screaming parent.
He didn’t speak her language, but the terror in her eyes as handed the boy over was not only for his safety, but for the man who had saved him.
There had been murmuring as he folded his wings and walked away. He had let his wings go and forced himself back into routine. Just another rescue. Just save as many as he could.
But the staring, the wide eyes, the touch of fear, the question of ‘what are you’ that hung in the air hovering over his bent back as he worked to save a young girl.
The whispering.
The remorse stirring in his younger brother.
He could feel Gordon on approach. He wasn’t far away, still looping the Island. Perhaps...
He shook himself and found Kay staring up at him, worry in her eyes. Her fingers, once again brushed his cheek and he kissed them. Hands on her waist, he turned in the water, taking her with him until he was facing the shore, his back to the horizon. He stepped back and let her go.
“Virgil?”
“I need...” He needed her. God, he longed for her touch. But he also needed his brothers. He needed rest.
He took another step back, moving deeper, his wingtips dragging against the swell.
She frowned at him in worry. “Virgil, what?”
A flash of midnight alarm and he let himself fall backwards into the water.
Virgil closed his eyes.
-o-o-o-
This was all his fault. The child had been part of a group of villagers whose homes were on the top of the cliff that had fractured, taking out the the rest of the village below. Virgil had identified the area unsafe with Two’s scanners while on approach and Gordon had been assigned to shore up the cliff edge with nanocrete. Which he had, using a pod. But he had returned on foot, not convinced it was fully secured and filled a few more cracks to make sure the cliff wasn’t about to collapse before Virgil could finish the evacuation below.
His back had been turned to the village behind him. He should have kept an eye out. Several families had refused to leave their homes no matter what John broadcast across Two’s external loudspeakers in any language.
He had seen the little boy out the corner of his eye and moved to stop him, but the toddler had taken a fright at the sight of Gordon dressed in his protective equipment and the long snake of delivery tube in his hands.
He had yelled in caution, but the child only startled more, a mother screaming somewhere off to the left. The little boy stepped backwards...and was gone.
Gordon’s shock screamed across to his brothers and Virgil responded.
As Gordon hurried to the edge, his brother was already airborne, great black wings beating hard to gain height and the intense concentration of he had to do, foremost.
Virgil caught the little boy, shooting up past the edge of the cliff and Gordon in a great black-blue-green streak.
The little boy was screaming.
His brother circled around and brought himself into land gracefully in front of a tearful mother.
She took her son, obviously terrified and hurried away.
Virgil’s shoulders dropped just enough for Gordon to notice before those wings folded and vanished.
People were talking. Muttering. Words of fear. At least one obvious obscenity despite the language barrier. As Virgil approached Gordon, the words grew louder.
Someone threw something.
Virgil helped him finish securing the cliff edge and then they had flown back down with the pod.
Scott was liaising with local emergency services, but the questions being flung at him when Gordon arrived to report, had nothing to do with the emergency.
“I’m sorry, what you are asking is our private business and I repeat we have no comment. Now can we please save these people.”
One emergency services officer was replaying Virgil’s flight on his phone with several of his buddies hovering around.
While Virgil had donned his exo-suit and was shifting rubble off a trapped family not twenty metres away.
Scott lost it in the calm and deadly way only Scott could two seconds later. Another two seconds and all those emergency personnel were fleeing from Commander Tracy whether they could understand him not.
“Is the cliff secure?” Those angry blue eyes were glaring at him.
“Yes.”
A swallow and a red flush to his cheeks. “Assist Virgil, deploy the pod for anything he can’t lift.”
“FAB.”
Gordon spent the next three hours doing exactly that.
Hardly a word was said between the brothers beyond the necessary. Virgil was very quiet and Gordon even more.
John, so far above them was spikes of anger as he wrestled with both the networks and the language on site. Gordon didn’t need a translation of what was being said with his brother so highly tuned to understanding.
And it was all Gordon’s fault.
If he had been paying more attention.
If he had been fast enough to stop the child.
If he hadn’t scared him further.
Gordon did not have wings. The world did not know of his ability and he was damn glad they didn’t. But his gentle brother had been cornered into lifting a handful of times on rescues and every time it was the same. Curiosity and terror.
Scott had lifted in public before as well, but Johnny hadn’t been seen since the attack and Alan had never been seen at all.
Of course, that didn’t stop the press. There was artwork out there guessing what colour both Gordon and Alan’s wings were, not to mention the conspiracy theories surrounding John’s absence.
If they knew Gordon grew fins instead...
They weren’t the only Aves out there, but the ability was so rare, it was a novelty.
The depressive and exhausted cloud hovering over Virgil just drove Gordon’s guilt deeper.
John instinctively tried to calm him, but the man wasn’t great himself, slowly approaching boiling point like a pot simmering on the stove. There was only so much his brother could tolerate and no doubt the slander was vile.
On the way back to the Island, Virgil had tried to talk to him, but by then Gordon was too angry with himself to respond intelligently. As soon as they landed, he was out the hatch and headed to the water where he shifted and let himself go.
He flew through the ocean, his wings those of his eagle ray form. His change muted his brothers somewhat, though not entirely and he had no doubt they could still feel him.
It was just stupid. He could have easily prevented it, yet he hadn’t and Virgil had been exposed again.
The water blurred around him as his thoughts took him in as many circles as those he made around the Island.
He knew the moment his brother stepped into the water.
Virg.
For god’s sake.
He just wanted to be alone. To think.
An emerald spark shot across the ocean at him. It was full of worry and love and so his big brother his heart clenched.
But he didn’t deserve it.
That didn’t stop Virgil.
A wave of exhaustion, fear for his safety and concern followed that spark.
Virgil was such a motherhen.
And he loved him for it.
But he didn’t deserve it. If anything, he should be apologising to his brother. It was all his fault!
Virgil’s mental sigh was almost a physical thing.
Gordon arced away from the Island and further out into the sea.
As he looped around the familiar beaches and outcrops, anger again sparked from far above and Gordon wondered what the hell his star brother had found now.
All his damn fault.
A spark of blue-grey suddenly radiated from Virgil’s direction followed by a wash of relief and desperate love.
Gordon mentally blinked and smiled. Tin had his brother.
Her touch was like fire to the gentle man. Gordon could not feel her at all, but Virgil’s reactions were enough to alert both John and himself to her presence...which led to interesting times...sometimes.
But for the moment, Gordon was only grateful she had his brother in hand. She would look after him.
Gordon dove deeper, revelling in the cool water streaming across his body.
Tin and Virgil had been a surprise to both John and Gordon. A spark of which neither of them had been aware, burst into flame and both of them reeled as their brother lit up.
Gordon felt it was truly something beautiful. Virgil deserved so much happiness and his sister blossomed as their relationship developed. Gordon wasn’t one to pry much beyond blackmail material, but his brother’s joy just overflowed into everything and everyone around him.
So it was with some shock that he received the first flickers of panic and a sensation of...drowning!
The eagle ray shifted mid beat and was replaced with a shark, the mako’s slim and speed-designed form throwing him through the water towards the beach where his brother was now struggling.
What the hell had happened?
It only took moments for Gordon to reach the waterlogged Ave, Tin struggling to pull Virgil out of the water, his fully spread wings hampering her efforts, his weight and drag formidable.
A leap and Gordon shifted mid-air, landing smoothly on his feet in the chest high water behind his brother and grabbing his feathered shoulders as Tin pulled desperately at his arms.
Between them, they got him upright, his wings still hanging in the water.
“What the hell, Virgil?!”
John was sparking all over the place, fear and fury, the astronaut was getting closer. No doubt, heading down on the elevator.
“What were you thinking?!”
They were both supporting him, one on each side, step by step dragging him towards shore.
“I needed to get your attention.”
“What the hell? By drowning yourself?!”
“I knew where you were. I was safe.”
Gordon stopped in the knee high water, waves muttering at his legs. “Why?!”
Tin’s expression was fast morphing from fear to rage and she yanked on her lover causing him to stumble.
Eight metres of black wings were dragged out of the water and onto the sand. The winged brothers were as nimble in the water with their wings spread as Gordon was in the sky in his ray form. In other words, not at all. They weren’t sea Aves. Their wings were not waterproof and while they did possess enough natural oils to prevent any damage to the feathers, they were extremely cumbersome underwater, heavy and that was why all the brothers let their wings go before diving into the ocean.
“Why didn’t you let them go?!” Tin was furious.
Gordon found it totally understandable since he shared the feeling.
A distant murmur off to the east suddenly swelled to a roar and Thunderbird One shot into the Island’s airspace, hovering a moment before rising up in preparation to dock.
John had obviously let the cat out of the bag. None of the three middle brothers could sense the eldest or the youngest.
But that was what comms were for.
As if to emphasise the point, the faint dot of the descending elevator appeared far above the volcanic peaks and made its way down between the jagged rocks.
A matter of minutes and they would be mobbed by brothers.
Gordon stood in front of his brother and glared. “Explain it to me now.”
Virgil’s whole posture was one of exhaustion. His eyes bloodshot, eyelids at half mast, his wings dragging on the sand. “I needed to break the cycle. you were so angry with yourself.” A hand reached out and landed on his shoulder. “It wasn’t your fault, Gordon. Let it rest. Let me rest.” Please. And Virgil was folding himself up, crouching down to sit on the sand his wings were covered in.
“Why didn’t you just call me?”
“I did. Again and again. You wouldn’t answer.” A sigh. “Too angry.”
Gordon opened his mouth to retort, but nothing came out. A pause. “You could have drowned!”
“No. It wouldn’t have gone that far.”
“How do you know?!” Tin was livid. “That was stupid, Virgil. You made me watch and I couldn’t pull you up-“ She broke off, struggling to compose herself.
Virgil reached up and pulled her to him. She resisted, but he insisted, and swearing through her teeth, she folded down beside him. He tucked her under his chin, muttering quiet apologies over and over again, his eyes closing.
Gordon took a step back, sensitive to what had suddenly become a private moment.
He looked up as his sense of John swelled above him, to see three brothers gliding over the palm trees. A rush of backwing breeze as six feet hit the sand.
Scott’s silver grey wings folded and vanished first, followed by Alan’s gold-blond flicker of feathers. John’s prosthetics whispered closed with just enough difference to the others to declare them artificial, ever reminding them of what had been done to their brother.
Gordon stepped in between Virgil and their brothers, holding up his hands.
Scott frowned, eyes barely leaving the pair curled up on the sand. “What happened?”
“He’s tired. Leave it. Probably my fault.”
That only served to narrow his older brother’s attention on Gordon. “What happened?”
John broke off with a flash of frustration and stormed past to crouch beside Virgil, his hand coming to rest on his brother’s shoulder. Murmured words Gordon couldn’t hear, but flashes of emotion danced around his head.
It was then Gordon realised that it wasn’t only Virgil who was exhausted.
“Scott, he did it to get my attention. He was successful, if overly dramatic. Blame it on the day if you have to. I’ll kick his ass later, I promise. If he survives Tin, that is.” Gordon eyed the pair. He knew his sister. This wasn’t over and he didn’t begrudge her at all. Of all the stupid things for his brother to do...
“Are you okay?” Alan’s voice sounded a little small.
Gordon sighed and strode over to his little brother who looked even smaller with the lack of shirt. His bro really needed more sun. Too much time spent in space. If he wasn’t careful, he’d end up glowing in the dark like Johnny.
He dropped a damp arm around Alan’s shoulders and grinned as his brother squirmed.
“You’re all cold and wet.”
“Comes with the territory, little bro.”
“Ergh.”
But he didn’t pull away.
Scott eyed the both of them, but his lips thinned anyway and he turned towards the huddle of brothers and sister on the ground.
“Scott?”
His brother turned to him.
“Be kind.”
The man frowned a little before nodding once and turning back, his silver mark glittering in the shadow of the vanishing sun.
-o-o-o-
Okay, it was a stupid thing to do.
John’s hand gripped his shoulder like a vice and the short sharp words cut at him. What had he been thinking?
“I don’t know, John. I just...don’t know.” He curled himself around Kay. His wings were sodden and covered in sand, he desperately need to preen them clean, but so, so tired.
He closed his eyes.
The midnight sun of his younger brother swelled and enveloped him. The intensity of worry, anger and love that came with it, his brother’s fingers on his feathered shoulder and two words.
It’s okay.
Virgil’s eyes shot open, seeking turquoise in the dimming light. “John?”
His brother’s eyes widened. Standing beside Alan, Gordon’s head shot up, a worried query thrown directly at the both of them.
But John still hadn’t answered him. John?
Oh, shit.
What the hell?
But Scott interrupted and John shook his head just enough to stop Virgil saying anything.
Kay was staring at the both of them.
The eldest was oblivious to the entire exchange, his focus still on a younger brother who had done something stupid.
“Virgil, I need to know what happened.” His big brother’s voice was calm, but demanding. “John said you were in some difficulty. That you were drowning. Why were you in the water with your wings lifted in the first place?”
“I...” Turquoise, blue, green and brown were all staring at him in the approaching darkness. “It was nothing.” He looked down shaking his head. Please, I just need sleep. God, please just let me rest.
John straightened, his hand still on Virgil’s shoulder. Voice quiet. “Scott, maybe later? We’re all exhausted. Virgil has been awake for almost thirty-six hours.”
Scott’s eyes glittered in the darkness for a moment as they darted to his middle brother. The commander’s lips thinned even further. “We debrief first thing in the morning.” Back to Virgil, his eyes softening with worry. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
Virgil blinked, his tired mind frozen in shock. What? He didn’t have to explain?
Be thankful and move. John was lifting him under one shoulder while Kay had slid under his other one. Somewhat dazed, he found himself on his feet, turned around and led back into the water.
Suddenly Gordon was there with Kay. John stepped back and let Virgil go as they stepped into the waves. They went in deep enough for him to fully submerge his feathers, Kay and Gordon helping him wash off the sand.
They didn’t let go of him once.
God, these feathers are huge. Must be heavy. How the hell does he support them? Tank body, tank wings, I guess.
Virgil frowned and stared at Gordon. What?
They’re darker than night, yet catch the light. Gordon had one gentle hand on Virgil’s forewing and was combing ever so carefully through his flight feathers.
Stealth wings. The thought was humorous, but no smile appeared on his little brother’s face, his frown of concentration dominant.
Virgil continued to stare.
Gordon shook his feathers ever so gently. “Okay, bro, I think I’ve got most of it out. Tin, you’re side done?”
Virgil turned to find his beloved Kay finishing up, her touch soft and loving despite the anger on her face. “We’re good.”
“They’re all yours, Virg.” Gordon moved in closer and gently squeezed his shoulder. “Don’t drown yourself again.” A small smile and he walked back to shore.
Something slipped away with him.
Kay was less liking to let him go, scooting in and grabbing his hand, leading him back to shore. As they approached, the four brothers on shore stepped back and gave Virgil room.
The sand was firm under the soles of his feet.
Kay stepped out of reach and he was clear.
Bracing his feet, he expanded his wings fully, ignoring their tired complaint, and shook them. Leaning over slightly, he pushed them through the air, their huge beats threatening to lift him off the beach.
Water scattered everywhere. Wingdraft caught the tideline detritus and flung it across the beach. Two of his brother complained as sand was tossed with it.
Alan ended up with seaweed in his hair.
But god, it felt good.
He wanted to jump into the sky, to fully stretch himself out, the feel the wind in his face.
“Virgil!”
John and Gordon said his name together, both of them frowning as if twinned. It would have made a great photographic moment if they weren’t projecting so much worry.
Or if Kay wasn’t standing beside them, her expression even worse.
He didn’t need to look at Scott to know what he would be thinking, lack of mental connection or not.
Okay.
He slowed his wings, enjoying the feel of the air rifling through his drying feathers. As the draft lessened, Kay approached him, her hands landing on his bare chest, only to slide up to his shoulders and the back of his neck.
Her fingers climbed into his hair and she brought his forehead down to hers.
“Let them go, love.”
He closed his eyes, his hands landing at her waist. One more stretch of his wing muscles and he shook his feathers before folding them neatly across his back.
Then he let them go.
To say she kept him on his feet wouldn’t have been a lie.
So stupid.
So tired.
Kay slipped under one arm and he suddenly found Scott under his other.
Virgil frowned. “I’m fine. I’m not sick.”
“I’ll let the medscanner reassure me anyway.”
“Scott-“
“Virgil, home, medical scan, bed. That’s an order.”
Mumbled. “Not on duty.”
Kay poked him in the ribs. “Move your ass.”
“Well, in that case...”
Gordon snorted and his brothers and his Kay took him home.
-o-o-o-
End Part One
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from-the-ashes-au · 4 years
Text
Chapter One
Months had gone by since the twins had seen their doppelganger on the news, and the two had made little progress on locating the man known as “jacksepticeye.” Every time it felt like they’d made some progress, something would send them back to square one. At one point, Marvin was fully prepared to teleport them to the Youtuber’s house, but on the day they had prepared to go, Jack had gone to America for some convention, and the magician didn’t trust himself to get them that far. The next time they were ready, Marv’s spell backfired, nearly sending him into a catatonic state. He had used so much of his energy just to keep himself conscious, when the next opportunity to find Jack arose, the brothers had decided to do it the old fashioned way.
“Marvin!” Jackie yelled up to the apartment from the street below. “Bro, let’s go! We’re gonna miss our train!”
He was met with silence, but he assumed his brother was already on his way down. Jackie lingered at the doorstep a minute longer, waiting for Marv to swing the door open, before starting down the street towards the station. With each footfall, he heard the distinct crunch of fallen leaves, and with each snap he grew more and more aware that he was alone. Marvin, as usual, had fallen behind, and Jackie was eager to start their journey. He made it as far as the corner, when he heard a crackle from behind him. Instinctively, he turned and swung out his leg. He felt the tip of his sneaker graze something, before it caught in someone’s hand.
Marvin let out a sharp breath. With his free hand, he brushed the edge of his nose, wiping away the muck that Jackie’s shoe had left behind.
“Your reflexes are great, but you’ve gotta work on your intuition, bud.”
Jackie pulled his foot free from his brother’s grip, causing him to stumble backwards. “I knew it was you,” he pouted, his eyes narrowed. “I was just testing your reflexes.”
The two started to bicker, and Marvin raised his hand, ready to strike. The hero easily dodged his brother’s fist, chuckling at the attempt.  The smaller brother huffed, turning his chin up in defeat. A breeze blew past them, carrying with it a familiar sound Marvin could barely recognize. He shuddered, and tried to shake the feeling it had brought. Above them, the sky opened up, unleashing a torrent of rain. With nothing to keep them dry, the pair started to jog toward the train station. By the time they arrived, the rain had lessened, and their train had begun to board. They managed to slip between the doors just before they shut, and the train let out a sharp whistle. Their journey was off to a strange start, and unbeknownst to them, it would be far from a simple one.
~
Lights off, camera off, game saved. 
Jack leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms towards the ceiling. His day had been ordinary, the majority of it spent recording videos for his channel. As usual, he had forgotten to eat since breakfast. His stomach growled knowingly as he took out his phone, placing an order for his typical late-night craving. 
Turning his attention back to his computer, Jack decided it was time to check his social media accounts. Tumblr was his first stop, full of the usual kind hearted posts and talented artwork, and then on to Twitter. His timeline was cluttered with various news outlets and fans responding to his most recent announcement: “YouTube Sensation Jacksepticeye Denies Rumors He Is London’s Masked Hero.”
A few months ago, a man in a red hood had been spotted in London, leaving petty criminals beaten and tied up in alleys. Onlookers had managed to occasionally capture grainy photos and video of the vigilante, who the internet thought bore a resemblance to Jack. The Youtuber had realized quickly that he had to make a statement, disavowing the rumors and clearing the air. He couldn’t afford to have any more negative associations with his brand, so he addressed it the only way he knew how: with a video. 
It had been generally well received, with most of the comments positive. Fans had flocked to his support, claiming that they knew Jack would never hurt anyone. Plus, as some so eagerly pointed out, Jack was in Brighton, a good enough distance away from London that he couldn’t be popping back and forth too quickly. A few statements stuck out at him, the kind of hateful comments that would usually put him in a bad mood, but this time was different. He knew he wasn’t secretly patrolling the streets of London, so he couldn’t be bothered by those who claimed he was lying. His mind started to drift, wondering how someone who looked so similar to him could be so nearby, when his thoughts were interrupted by the doorbell.
“That was quick,” he thought. Jack grabbed his wallet off the desk, and made his way to the door. Excitedly, he swung it open, ready to stuff his face with hot, gooey, greasy pizza. Unfortunately, waiting on the other side was not his cheesy delight. He felt the smile slip from his face, quickly replaced by a look of bewilderment. Standing in front of him were two identical young men. Identical to each other, and identical to him. 
The longer Jack stood there, the more differences he started to pick out. The one on the right was taller than the other, with coffee-colored hair cropped short on the sides, and the tips peeked out from underneath a grey beanie. His eyes were almost an electric blue, hidden behind a pair of rectangular glasses. He had a fresh cut over his eyebrow, the crimson color a stark contrast to his warm ivory skin. Aside from his height, nothing about him really stood out. 
On his left was the shorter of the two, whose hair was dyed a dyed a brilliant green. The roots of his hair were the color of chocolate, either untouched by the dye or had simply faded with time. It had been pulled into a loose bun, with strands that escaped falling just above his shoulders. His eyes were similar to Jack’s, a cold greyish-blue that seemingly sparkled in the dark. His figure was distinctly opposite to his partner’s, a much slimmer, willowy shape that suited his posture. His long coat hung awkwardly off his shoulders, and the collar was turned up to block the wind. 
Jack could’ve stayed there all night deciding what made each of the three of them unique, but there was the one fact that none of them could ignore: looking at each other was like looking in a mirror. The silence continued for what felt like hours, waiting for one of them to speak up, 
“You’re not pizza.” Jack had finally regained his composure.
The shorter of the two let out a breath. “And you’re not us, and yet you have our face,” he replied, pushing his way into the house.
Jack turned on his heel, grabbing the intruder by his shoulder. “H-hey hold on a minute! You can’t just come in here uninvited!” He reached out to pull him back, but his body felt like it had been frozen in place. The man turned to face him, his eyes now glowing a bright emerald color. Jack could’ve sworn they’d been blue before. From behind, the taller one sighed, then lifted Jack by his shoulders like he was weightless. He heard the door click shut behind them. He could feel his heart pounding in his ears as the tall stranger carried him into the living room, setting him down gently onto the couch. Slowly, his arms started to loosen, and he noticed that the shorter one of the pair had sprawled out across his favorite armchair. The other was perched awkwardly on the edge of the couch, watching Jack with an intense fascination.
“Who are you?” Jack demanded once his mouth could move again.
“I’m Jackie, and that’s my brother Marvin,” the taller one spoke quickly. “This was all his idea. He wanted to barge in here so you couldn’t turn us away I just wanted to talk to you like normal people but no, this drama queen had to do it the illegal way!”
The shorter one, Marvin, sat up and pointed an accusatory finger at his brother. “If we had done it your way,” he hissed, “we’d still be standing at the door like two idiots! Who in their right mind would just let two strangers into their house?!”
They started to argue, their voices slowly growing in volume, before Jack stood up, interrupting their bickering.
“Both of you, shut up! You still haven’t really answered my question: who are you? Why are you in my house?”
“Oh right, yeah,” Jackie laughed awkwardly, scratching at his head. “Marv saw you on the news and thought you were me! Which is weird, since we don’t have any other family, and you look like us.”
Marvin rose to his feet, brushing his hands off on his tattered jeans. “Yeah, that’s about it. Now we’re here to get answers.”
“Answers to what?”
Marvin started to pace the room, his feet barely making a sound as they hit the ground. “Oh, just some simple questions. Like, where were you born, what’s your real name, are you under the influence of any demons, who are your parents?”
“Wait, what was that middle one?” 
“Demons. Do you know any?”
Both Jack and Jackie turned to look at Marvin, the same expression of confusion on their faces.
“Marv, why the hell are you asking him about demons?!” Jackie exclaimed, giving his brother a puzzled look.
Marvin ignored the hero’s inquiry, and took a step closer to Jack. His duplicate flinched as he approached, watching as Marv’s hands started to spark. His eyes shone in the darkness, and Jack sat motionless, watching as his copy circled. He blinked, and suddenly, Marvin was inches away from his face.
“I will ask you again: do you know any demons?”
Jack swallowed, struggling to find his voice. “N-no, what the hell?” He finally managed.
The answer he had produced did not satisfy the magician’s curiosity. In the blink of an eye, a flame leapt up in Marvin’s hand. Jack could feel the heat on his face, beads of sweat starting to roll down his forehead. Marvin cleared his throat.
“Jack, I don’t know how else to ask you. Where is the demon?!” His eyes, this time the color of murky water, radiating an emotion Jack couldn’t quite identify.
“There is no demon! What the hell! Demons don’t exist!” Jack had had enough of the interrogation, though his voice was torn between fear and outrage.
Apparently, his response had finally been correct. The fire in Marvin’s hand dissipated as quickly as it had appeared. He held it out to Jack in surrender.
“Sorry, we had to be sure.”
Jack’s face was blank, still perplexed by the events that had quickly spiraled out of his control. “You had fire. In your hand.”
Marvin nodded.
“And...he picked me up like I was made of air...!”
Jackie nodded.
“So, can I ask a question now?” 
The twins nodded.
Jack cleared his throat. “I guess what I want to know is, what are you?”
The pair exchanged a glance, deciding how to explain themselves. Before Marvin could stop him, Jackie pulled his mask out of his pocket and set it on the table.
“I’m Jackieboy Man.”
“And I一” Marvin flicked his wrist, as a cat-shaped mask started to cover his face一 “am Marvin. Just Marvin. I’m not fancy like Jackie-boy here.
Jack’s eyes flicked back and forth between the two, before he doubled over with laughter. His eyes began to water, and he wiped the tears away with the back of his hand.
“We share....a face...” He managed between fits of laughter. “But we clearly don’t share creativity. What kind of name is ‘Jackieboy Man’?”
“I thought it was cool,” Jackie mumbled, crossing his arms defensively.
“Sure, it’s cool if you don’t give a shit about having a secret identity! You need a better name, like based on what you can do or something. What can you do?”
Jackie shrugged. “I’m fast and strong, and sometimes lightning shoots out of me. Marv’s really the cool one, if you ask me.”
“No one did ask you,” Marvin grumbled from the corner. He opened his mouth to say something sassy, when Jack interrupted his thoughts.
“How old are you guys?” He asked.
“We’re 25.”
“So you’re four years younger than me...” Jack scratched absentmindedly at his beard. 
“...and?” Marvin prompted, annoyance in his voice.
“Your age lines up with Chase’s story, and with mine.”
“Who?”
From around the corner, a familiar face poked out.
“Yo, what’s up guys?” He grinned, tipping his hat in a mock salute. “Name’s Chase. Pleased to meet ya, bros!”
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bitchiloveher · 5 years
Text
all these years
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pairing[s]:
Sweet Pea x reader
Veronica Lodge x platonic! reader
warnings: sadness ??
word count: 1k+
♬ : all these years by Camilla Cabello
note: been working on imagines based off of songs that when I listen to, inspire me :) this is also my first piece of writing on tumblr so pls feel free to let me know what you think!
part two
masterlist
⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆
Although you hadn’t been back home in years, your memory served it purpose and lead you through town seamlessly. Being away at college across the country didn’t seem to erase the memory of Riverdale.
You spotted the red glowing light of the infamous Pop’s Chock’Lit Shoppe and pulled in. After a long few days of traveling you needed a good meal and to see your best friend’s face again. You didn’t even bother stopping home first so your car was still filled with most of your belongings.
You rushed up the front steps to Pop’s, hearing the door squeak slightly and the bell chime as you stepped inside. You’d missed this place, these people, but a special few in particular. One of them was too busy behind the counter to have even noticed your entrance. Without looking up she calls out, “Take any seat you’d like. I’ll be with you in just a minute!”
You hummed in response walking towards the counter to sit on the stool right in front of where she was checking the books. “I hope this seat is okay.”
Veronica slowly looked up and you watched her face light up. She blinked a couple times, almost as if she was checking to make sure you were actually there. “Oh my God! I thought you were back tomorrow?”
“Oops I lied.” You just shrugged nonchalantly. “I wanted to surprise you!”
“OH MY GOD.” She ran out from behind the counter and attacked you in a hug. The two of you had talked everyday. Text, phone call, FaceTime, you name it, but you’ve only seen her in person twice since you moved for school. So the hug lasted longer than a typical one would have. When Veronica finally let you go, she sat at the stool right beside yours, “Are you back for good?”
“I am. Well, at least for now, but who knows what’s going to happen. I just missed home, thought it’d be good to be back for a while.” She nodded in response. Even though you never vocalized it, she knew how hard it was for you to leave everything and everyone behind.
“I have so much to catch you up on. But first, your chocolate milkshake.” She sauntered off in classic Veronica fashion.
“You know me so well.” You smugly smiled to her as she made her way back behind the counter. The bell to Pop’s rang again and instinctively you looked back to see what familiar face would enter next.
There he was... taller than you remember, his hair was grown out, but still slicked back with one piece falling in front of his right eye. Your eyes roamed over his whole body to take in all the features you’ve missed over the past four years. You could tell he had been working out, you could see the muscles through his flannel. Almost everything about him had changed, but when you finally made it to his eyes, you knew he was still the same ole Pea. 
You weren’t expecting to see him so soon, you assumed you’d have enough time to think of something to say or some way to avoid him. You’d gone over possible scenarios a million times in your head, but you never pictured it this way. And you certainly never prepared for all of your suppressed feelings to come flooding back so quickly.
The minute you saw him, you felt the rush of emotions taking your breath away. You hadn’t seen him at all since you left. You unfollowed him on social media and fully shut him out, trying to ease the pain of being without him. You had completely erased him from your life. What a mistake that was.
You turned your back to the register so he hopefully wouldn’t notice you and you could save this moment for when you were ready. But, with your luck, his voice pulled you out of your thoughts, “Y/n?”
You let out a breath in defeat and shut your eyes before turning around with a forced fake smile, “Hi, Pea.”
“Hey. Did you just get back?” His phone buzzed in his hand and without replying to the text, he placed it in his back pocket.
“Yeah, just walked in a minute ago, actually. How are you?” You genuinely wanted to know. Did he still hate you? Did he ever hate you?
“Pretty well. You?” You weren’t expecting that. He smiled at you and your body fell completely still. He smile seemed softer, he looked happier... without you. Before you could respond, Veronica came back with two milkshakes, one for you and one for her. You widened your eyes at her and quickly looked towards the register. She furrowed her brow, feeling ultimately confused, but followed your eyes to see Sweet Pea waiting, “Just picking up, V.”
“Yes, got your order here all ready!” She rushed to hand him the bag, knowing by your face you needed to be saved.
He handed her cash in return, “Thank you.” His phone rang this time, “I better get going, can’t leave Josie waiting.” He smiled to himself at the mention of her name and you wondered if he ever did that while talking about you. He turned to face you, “It was really nice seeing you, y/n. Welcome home.” You couldn’t trust your voice so you just sent him a smile. A smile that on the outside probably looked normal, but it was a smile filled with pain and regret.
You watched him walk out, like he had watched you walk out the day you left and you felt the pain he must have. You never realized how badly you hurt him. To see the person you love leave you so easily. You turned back to Veronica, who’s face was already frowning at you. You let out a pathetic laugh, “Well, I wasn’t prepared for that.”
“You wanna talk about it?” She leaned against the counter and took ahold of your hand.
“I saw him and it, it all came back. Somehow, after all these years, I still feel everything. I thought it was all gone.” You let out a soft sob, “I still love him, V. I never told him.” A single tear fell down your cheek, which you quickly wiped away, trying to ignore the emotion.
Veronica sighed, knowing not to respond because you wouldn’t want to continue to sulk and pity yourself. She walked around to the other side of the counter, and pulled you into a hug. You let out a few more tears as she held you close, not daring to let go.
When you felt okay, you pulled back and sent Veronica a weak smile. She finally sat beside you, wiggling her eyebrows, “Now, how about those milkshakes?”
↳ xo m.j.
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alatismeni-theitsa · 5 years
Note
One thing I love about your account is that you challenge all of what I thought being Greek meant. Like growing up, I always felt bad about myself because my skin was pale, and I was always told all Greeks have olive skin. I never liked my nose because I felt it didn’t look like what the media portrays Greek noses to look. Like even looking at my mom and papou’s noses, I just have a different one. I’ve always just been insecure, feeling like I could never look Greek enough.
Ya su! :D Big answer incoming, brace yourselves! 
From your question I understand you are a Greek of diaspora and your mother was a second generation Greek immigrant. I have received plenty of messages here from Greeks of diaspora who have told me “I am pale/I have blue eyes/I am blond and I don’t feel like a Greek!” Really, I should make a tag! It’s so strange how foreigners make us feel like we don’t belong in our own ethnicity! North Europeans and Americans make even us, who live in Greece feel like our heritage doesn’t belong to us! “You can’t possibly be the same!” they say. No, we are not the same. However we come from a long continuous line of people who tought the Greek heritage to their children for centuries. We speak the same language, we have many same traditions, we get inspired by the same nature. The antiquity doesn’t exist in a vacuum and it never stopped being a part of us. 
That’s why I encourage proper representation of Greeks, especially on American media, so false images stop being circulating. It’s not exactly racist what’s happening but it has resulted in many Greeks straight up being told “you don’t even look Greek, why you speak on Greek issues?” That enrages me EVERY.FUCKING.TIME.
Because to tell you the truth, Greeks couldn’t be further from the stereotype  “dark olive skin with curly black hair”! The majority, especially in the north, is pale, many times with big weird ass noses. 99% of us look white with the first guess. Of course there are some occasions where the stereotype is true (I don’t pretend there are no darker Greeks!) but those are rare. An American friend once saw a documentary about modern Athens and she was very surprised about how white we looked and asked herself “is this Germany??”
Even in the ancient art all over Greece we see pale/white people all over the place. I have been to museums all over the country and always seen them (where the colors are preserved) and I have posted some in my tag #ancient greek art as well. The Americans go “oh, those are fake because Greeks idolized white skin”. Sure, Jan, all Greeks all over the country made art with Caucasian white people because they were all in a secret white supremacy pact. Of course figures are beautified sometimes but it’s crazy to assume Greeks did everything in their power not to depict their own people accurately. I have this post (link) where I discuss that ancient Greeks weren’t that different from us today, with sources of studies showing our DNA hasn’t changed much. It’s to debunk the “ancient Greeks were darker than the modern ones”, which is used to depict our ancient gods and people very dark in modern art.
Foreigners also focus on the mixes with other people Greeks had in order to justify how we are dark. “But they are close to Africa sooo...” No. This argument doesn’t make much sense and people who use it know jack shit about our history and demographics and don’t have any common sense. It’s true though that mixes have played a part in our history and our appearance so it’s good to speak about those.
Greeks in the North (Athens and up) have mostly been mixing with Slavs and Germanic people because it’s easier for us to go to each other’s country by foot, and we just are close to each other. Plus, the history of the Balkans is very interesting and full of mixes and immigration! We also have mixed (I don’t know to what extent) with the Turks, who are Mongolic in nature and come north of Greece as well.   
People from the Peloponnise can be darker but still they look hella white (as I was told by Peloponnisian friends and as I have noticed myself). People in the south islands are more likely to have some Arab DNA but generally no one has observed that they look different than the rest of Greeks. (I haven’t seen it or heard it ever in my life. Other Greeks, correct me if I am wrong). You can’t tell which person comes from just by looking at them. 
Your struggle is understandable and I would like to give some suggestions to overcome it and be more comfortable in your own heritage. Perhaps you do some of these things anyway but there is no harm in listing them!
1) Search historically important Greeks and see their portraits. Seriously, do it! You may find yourself looking a little bit like them. You will surely have one thing common with them since they are usually pale :P Sometimes they may have non Greek names (Karlota, Suzanna, Emilia) but it was a trend for the rich families of the 19th century to give such names to children. I mean if you find a non-Greek name investigate if they are Greek or not because they actually might be. In my tag #Greek people you will find photos and portraits of Greeks from old times!
2) Read the history of Greece. All of it, not just from 300 BC to 100 AC as most foreigners do. Preferably, find works that have someone Greek as a writer or supervisor (because Greeks usually try to depict accuratelly what happened), or writers who truly feel Greece, like Richard Clogg. Read about Greek old allies and old enemies, about who we trade with, about where we immigrated, where we went to study to see what are the most likely mixes. Obviously, every kind of mix can happen but for numbers that matter you got to know the historical trends. It’s gonna be a journey that will help you feel your Greek side more and have answers ready when someone claims you don’t look Greek.   
3) Learn more Greek. The Greek language is logical but also stupid and funny, expressing the spirit of the people who made it. Learning Greek means learning how Greeks think. We have 20+ weird phrases to playfully say someone is gay, like “he flogs the dolphin”, “he shakes the pear tree” etc. We have phrases that stem from war and pirate raids and... hating the Turks, our colonizers :P We have many Mediterranean expressions like calling a mole “olive” or saying “I am in an open sea” (”πελάγωσα”) when we feel lost, or saying “he pressed my oil out” when someone tires us. I am very passionate about Greek so you can message me any time with any question about it! 
4) Learn where your family comes from. I mean the exact place/town, the geographical compartment. Learn the specific dances and traditional costume of that area from youtube videos or a Greek community in your area! See if the people in your area were great warriors, great merchants, great wine producers. See if there are any Greek heroes of the 1821 revolution coming from your place! Learn the song “Πώς το τρίβουν το πιπέρι” and the weird ass dance that comes with it, which Greek archeologists didn’t even hesitate to dance in a Mycenaic tomb!
5) Meet more Greeks! Through groups on insta or fb, through Tumblr blogs etc. Watch youtubers of Greek diaspora as “Greek in Town” or the comedian Basile! Maybe there is one Greek community near you area and you can pay a visit for festivals! 
6) Cook Greek food. If your grandparents and mum know recipes, take them as if they are gold. It’s a great way to get familiar with the local Greek ingredients and the Greek palette. Replace your soul with feta if you can xD 
7) Read Greek modern literature, even translated. Elitis, Sahtouris, Seferis, Venezis, Papadiamantis, Mirivilis, Delta, Empirikos, Zei, Kazantzakis are only a few of the literary gems Greeks have to offer. Enjoy good writing, the Greek perspective, and get to know the newer Greek society in a unique and authentic way. Here is a list with more of them (link).
8) Be proud. Be proud of a people who endured earthquakes, wars, genocide, famine, occypation, slaughters and slavery and can still stand. In every anniversary of ww1, ww2 and grecoturkic war, in our schools we sing prideful songs and hang posters with our war heroes, always standing proud. The students and the army parade in the streets, the small childrean wearing traditional costumes. Being proud is one key element of being Greek. 
Of course I don’t mean in a nationalistic/facist tone! We also celebrate the fall of the Greek junta of 1967 - which was financed by the US - and we are proud for it! And we fought German nazis. So no such ideology is welcome. Because we have so many things to be proud of (such long history!) foreigners equate our pride with nationalism. That is not the case for a healthy Greek mind who knows Greek history.
Ok, that’s all! Thank you for making it this far and reading what I had to say! I wish you a great cultural journey and I remind you that my DMs and Asks are open if you ever need anything! 
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msjr0119 · 5 years
Text
Love, Fate, Destiny
Part 12a - Kismet
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Riley Brooks is a waitress in a ‘Dive bar” in New York. One Saturday night, her past comes back to haunt her as some unfamiliar punters enter her bar on a bachelor party- one of them being someone who she was once close to.
*CHARACTERS BELONG TO PIXELBERRY*
Tags- @annekebbphotography @burnsoslow @drakesensworld @ladyangel70 @kingliam2019 @bbrandy2002 @butindeed @bascmve01 @drakewalker04 @pedudley @captain-kingliamsqueen @duchessemersynwalker @insideamirage @of-course-i-went-to-hartfeld @kozabaji @texaskitten30 @ibldw-main @kimmiedoo5 @nikkis1983 @dangerouseggseagleartisan @gnatbrain @walker7519 @lodberg @cmestrella @hopefulmoonobject @addictedtodrakefanfic @angi15h @liamxs-world @rafasgirl23415 @notoriouscs @yukinagato2012
There’s two parts... at the bottom of the page click continue reading as Tumblr said it was too long - so had to split it 😫
*****
Liam and the others arrived back at the hotel. Bastien decided to go to his room, he was feeling guilty enough so didn’t want to face Drake and Riley together.
“Drake? Where’s Riley?” Liam asked shocked. He had assumed that they would still be together making up for lost time.
“She... she saw the ring!”
“You fucking moron! We weren’t dragging you round NYC to try and get you to pull.”
“Fuck off Olivia! Maybe if none of you forced me to move on I wouldn’t have to wear a fake wedding ring to stop women trying to hit on me!”
“Did you show her the tattoo? Explain about the ring?” Liam asked, they had just found Riley again and lost her again. Regretting not getting her new number off of her, he didn’t know how they were going to find her again.
“She didn’t give me chance to.” Drake said in a pitiful tone of voice.
I’ve lost her again.
*******
Drake was frustrated with everyone forcing him out all the time -attempting to get him to move on from Riley. Stupidly he had agreed to go out with all the men later that night for a night away in Greece. Previous nights out, he had women drool over him- but he wasn’t interested. One woman said to him “there’s no ring on your finger, so I assume you’re single. Come back to my place.”
Driving into the capitol, he found a jewellery store. Choosing the cheapest ring he could find, he would wear it. If another woman attempted to convince him that he was single he would just rise his left hand up.
Later that day he met the men, and they travelled to Greece. In the first club, Liam tried to push him towards some attractive women- but they weren’t Riley. No one would compare to her. As the women came over, one touched Drake’s arm- he brushed her away and showed her the ring. Liam pulled him to the side.
“Since when did you get married Sir Walker?”
“Does it matter? I’m not moving on Liam! I could have been married to Riley by now. Had children. But no, I got that torn away from me. I don’t want to move on- so please don’t try and make me!”
The night went on, Drake became more and more intoxicated every second that went by. He was even dancing with Maxwell- something that wasn’t his forte.
“Drake... buddy.... why don’t we go for a tattoo.... have matching ones....” Maxwell slurred, not understanding what exactly he had suggested.
“Yes man! Let’s.... go....” Drake suggested as he tried to stable his balance. The two snuck out of the club laughing like naughty school boys.
Entering the tattoo shop, Maxwell flipped through the folders finding a few tattoos they could have. Drake frowned at the options; a flower, a cat with pussay patrol written under it, Winnie the Pooh, Duracell bunny. There was also one for couples, where one person would have ‘Dis’ tattooed on their knee and the other would have ‘ney’ on their - Disney.
“Or you could get a hippo tattoo like me.....we’d be twinnies.”
“Fuck no! I know what... I’m getting.”
The tattoo artist started working on Drake’s tattoo. Once done- he returned to Maxwell.
“That was quick.... did you chicken out bud?” Maxwell impersonated a chicken, making a fool out of himself.
“No! Look...”
“RB? As in Riley Brooks? On your wedding finger?”
“Yep!” The first genuine smile he had on his face for months- he kept picturing her face. Hoping that fate one day would bring them back together.
“Ah Drake... I hope you don’t regret that in the morning. I’m going for the ‘pussay patrol’ tattoo.”
Drake was drunk- knowing that this was a bad idea, he held his laughter in. He couldn’t wait to see Max’s reaction tomorrow- Maxwell may regret his choice of tattoo but Drake certainly wouldn’t.
*******
Riley was an emotional wreck, heading straight to Beth’s apartment she broke down in tears. After explaining what had happened- Beth was shellshocked.
“Tonight! We are going out.. you need it! I’ll pay.”
“Thanks Beth. I need a rebound quick.”
As Riley was getting ready, she had a new friend request - Maxwell. Not wanting to be rude, she decided to accept his message, and had a short conversation with him- keep it simple she thought.
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“You ready to go?” Beth asked whilst topping up her lipstick- pouting in the mirror.
“I so am. Drake Walker who?” Riley smirked, whilst putting her heels on.
“That’s the spirit chick! Let’s go!” The two women necked their pre drinks down quickly, before shooting out of the door.
******
Maxwell arranged to meet everyone in the hotel bar. After stalking Riley’s Instagram he had figured out where she was going that night- he knew she was annoyed with Drake and that they were both as stubborn as each other, but he needed to get them back together.
“So glad you could meet me guys. Liam I hope you’ve delayed our flight back. Where’s her majesty?”
“Why? We need to get back to Cordonia as soon as possible! I need to have stern words with certain people. She refused to come- she said and I quote ‘I am not stepping foot in another shithole bar.’ So she’s staying here.”
“Her loss. Guess who’s friends with Riley on Instagram? Oh yes that would be me!”
“And your point is?” Liam questioned, not understanding why this was relevant.
“I know what she’s doing tonight. I spoke to her in a chat- then stalked all her pictures. She’s a professional model now... she’s fucking hot as fuck.”
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Drake scowled at him, he felt jealousy burn through him. He knew Maxwell would never make a move on her- he wasn’t like Liam. But it still hurt that he would call his ‘girlfriend’ hot as fuck.
“Wow! She is hot!” Hana’s eyes widened.
“Is she turning you Hana?” Maxwell winked at her and nudged her. Seeing Drake becoming wound up- maybe this might encourage him to win her back.
“Quite possibly she could do haha.”
“Look Liam, Drake, Bastien....”
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Bastien gulped, he knew that she was a model- he had stalked her Instagram page ever since finding it. At times he had to knock off the page- as he gained a slight erection. On one occasion he masturbated over one of her pictures- it was a heat of the moment thing. He would never be able to tell Drake the truth about this.
“Yes, she is gorgeous.” He muttered.
“I think she’s out of everyone’s league.” Liam responded after witnessing Drake scowling at everyone’s reactions.
Drake snatched the phone, scrolling through the pictures- he agreed with everyone; she was hot, she was gorgeous and she most certainly was out of his league. Ordering another whiskey, he knew he needed some dutch courage to explain what Riley misinterpreted if they saw her.
*****
“Hey babe, are you still at Kismet?”
Riley’s eyes widened, her heart sank. Regretting tagging herself in things on social media- she now had Maxwell stalking her. Quickly looking around to see if they were there- she couldn’t see any of them.
“Hey Max. No we are in bed, all worn out. Sorry.” Phew- hopefully they won’t come.
Strolling up to the bar, she kept looking over her shoulders. Hoping that they wouldn’t turn up. She had lost Drake due to her poor decision making- it was time to move on and she couldn’t if the bunch of misfits from fucked up Cordonia turned up. Waiting at the bar for Beth to return from the bathroom, she was contemplating what to order.
“Mark. Jesus. You scared the life out of me.”
“Looking good Ri. You’re photos don’t do it any justice.”
Riley noticed Beth on the dance floor- wishing that Beth would stop kissing her boyfriend and head over to rescue her from her ex.
“Erm. Thanks.” Fucking creep. Leave me alone.
“What are you having to drink?” Rolling her eyes, she believed if she accepted a drink he would leave her be and go and pester some other poor person.
“Surprise me.” Mark smirked as he ordered her a drink. When she wasn’t looking he poured an extra ingredient into the cocktail.
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. I’ve missed you you know.”
“Oh well the feeling isn’t mutual.”
“Come on Ri, we had a good thing going on.”
“It was in college. And you was a rebound. You know that!”
Riley felt uncomfortable in his presence, his hand tightening around her waist- she couldn’t remove it. He began to kiss her neck making her feel physically sick. Pushing him away she wanted to wipe that smirk off his face. Turning around to make her escape she bumped into someone familiar.
“Hey blossom!”
Shit
“Hey, Max. I’m so glad to see you.” Smiling at Max - he was her saviour, her new best friend.
“Who’s this douche?” Mark raised his eyebrows at the stranger.
“This Mark.... Is my boyfriend Maxwell.”
Riley pulled Maxwell closer to her, just please pretend for fuck sake- he’s a creep, follow my lead. Kissing Max on the lips- he was frozen at first, but eventually melted into it. Once they parted Maxwell slapped Riley on her arse, lowering her mouth to his ear, too far Beaumont but I’ll use it.
“Oh he does love spanking me. He’s so cute isn’t he Mark?” Riley said as she caressed Maxwell’s cheeks.
“Er yeah. See ya around Riley. Hopefully sooner rather than later.”
Watching Mark leave the area, she turned to her friend, hoping he wouldn’t berate her on her lie she previously told him.
“Thanks.”
“So you’re in bed are ya?” Folding his arms and raising his eyebrows- Riley knew he was angry. Maxwell was never angry, he was always so cheery and full of life.
“I was hoping you wouldn’t come. So I lied. I’m sorry. But honestly thank you for helping me.”
“Who is he?”
“My college boyfriend. My rebound for Drake.”
“Ohhh talking about Drake...”
“He’s here isn’t he?” Riley looked towards the floor, that was surrounded by the sticky residue of spilts drinks.
“Yeah, come and see him. He’s devastated.”
“Let me finish this drink. I need to use the bathroom too... I’ll be right back. I’ll find you all.”
Continue Reading
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beihonglin · 5 years
Text
[about subbing.]
alright y’all sit tight and buckle up, i’ve held this in for three months now but today i saw a youtube comment demanding to know why it took so long for eng subs for a certain show to come out and i think some things should be made clear. 
fan subbers are not obligated to do the subbing we do. we are people with our own lives who are busy with work and school and life. the time spent subbing takes away from our study time, our down time, or time better spent doing more productive things. 
“but wait, surely it doesn’t take that long to sub a show? i see gifs on tumblr / translated transcriptions on twitter, so i know people are capable of translating things but nobody will sub the whole episode / it takes so long for eng subs to come out.”
it takes. so. much. time. in case you’re not familiar with the process (i know i wasn’t, before joining a subbing team), i’ll walk you through it with personal examples. 
(1) obtaining the raw video: 
content is often hosted on iqiyi, youku, tencent. unlike youtube, these platforms have little to no ‘fast’ ways to download the videos. for example, iqiyi uploads their episodes as .qsv files, which, due to their non-standard format, cannot be opened in any normal multimedia player and require the use of iqiyi's proprietary software. in order to decode the file and make it usable, downloaders have to find ccodes and ckeys, which takes time. to make it worse, these ccodes and ckeys change every few weeks, which means downloaders have to go on a hunt for them all over again. 
even if you could find an online downloader for videos, video parsers such as this one often give you very little control over the quality of the video - most of the downloads end up looking like someone chewed it up and spit it out. 
this means that whoever obtains the raw video has to use methods like coding or terminal just to get the hd file, which takes time and effort. 
from here, the raw video goes to two people: the transcriber and the timer. 
(2a) transcribing the video:
this is a step i skip when i am subbing alone or when i’m subbing in a team that are all chinese-speakers, but when i’m working in a team that has typesetters who don’t speak chinese, we have to provide a transcription along with our translation so that they can match the words on screen with the translations they put in. in some teams, there are members who only transcribe, but in smaller teams, translators have to do it ourselves.
transcribing takes time - it can take anywhere from half an hour to two hours for a five minute segment, depending on how used you are to typing in that language.
(2b) timing the video:
for me, this is The Most Time Consuming part of subbing - it’s the part i dread when subbing alone. it involves making sure your subs appear at the same time as the corresponding characters on screen, and often, if your subs appear even a couple of frames off, the entire sequence will look strange to the viewer. timing involves small adjustments made over and over again just so your subs look at least presentable. 
it requires precision, which takes time. and it requires practice and being comfortable with the timing software - if you’re starting out with new software, you might take more than two hours to time a five minute segment. 
even worse is when a video comes without chinese subtitles (rip all of us who ever had to sub these) - we don’t have a frame of reference and have to decide how to time by ourselves. we have to take into account sentence length and how fast viewers can read per second, how long a clause can be before viewers forget what was in the previous clause, and we have to make these decisions in tandem with how fast the people on screen are speaking. which takes time.  
(3) translating the video:
i think this step is often what people reduce subbing to and is what most people are familiar with seeing, but i cannot stress this enough - it also takes time.
personally, i take an hour to clear five minutes worth of dialogue on a good day. and then i take additional time for the sfx captions. and then additional time to proof-read and make sure i didn’t mishear, misinterpret or mistranslate things. most of the time, interviews love using internet slang or gaming terms and for those of us who don’t game or spend most of our lives on weibo, it’s an extra step for us to search for the term, understand its meaning and the context in which it’s being used. which takes time.
when a video comes without chinese subtitles and the members on screen happen to Love Screaming Over Each Other... replaying the segment over and over again to try and hear what they’re saying takes time. and patience. and eardrum abilities. 
in a team, it also involves proof-reading each other’s work. our translations team always proof-reads each other’s segments in case we catch something the others missed out on or mistranslated, or in case semantics are awkward and we have to restructure a sentence. i’m very, very lucky in that the subbing team i’m in have different strengths - one of us is better at chinese and explaining complex phrases, one of us is good at pragmatics and catching nuances and suggesting rephrases and one of us is good at semantics and making sure things are grammatically accurate. but sometimes teams are unbalanced and it takes extra effort to make sure things still turn out in the best quality possible. 
in some cases, we can discuss one (1) word choice for a full ten minutes because there simply isn’t a phrase for it in english and we have to t/n it, or because multiple english words map to the same chinese word and choosing the wrong one will provide a wrong connotation. in other cases, we know that some scenes will be talked a lot about or giffed a lot by international fans, and we have to make sure that the translations have to be as accurate and as nuanced as possible so that nothing gets twisted. and in the worse case scenario, a wrong word choice can change a fan’s whole impression of a member. 
(4) typesetting the video: 
for dialogue subtitles, this involves finding a font that is readable by everyone and a style that will be visible against all backgrounds. it involves making sure they stay in the same place and are of the same style (all aligned left, a certain number of pixels from the bottom etc). 
for sfx captions, this involves matching your english font to the chinese font used so the scene style isn’t incongruous and matching styles like outlines and shadows so that the colour scheme remains the same. in some cases, there is no space for the sfx translation, and typesetters have to blank out the original to make the translations visible. in many cases, they move, so typesetters have to animate the text, which takes extra effort. 
for multiple-episode shows, typesetters have to make sure that the styling remains consistent and visible in all settings, which make the thought given to these choices all the more important.
in some teams, typesetters don’t speak chinese, and have to refer to transcriptions and corresponding translations to typeset correctly. this takes time. in the cases where the original video comes without chinese subtitles, typesetters have to decide in which order the noise and mayhem should appear on screen. this takes time. 
and in the first place, this assumes that you have the software to do hard-subs - something not all of us have. 
(5) encoding and posting the video:
this step takes the least effort but it still needs So Much Time - converting the aegisubs or premiere pro file into an .mp4 requires a media encoder, and adobe media encoder more or less takes three hours to encode a three hour episode. sometimes, it exports as an .mov and you have to handbrake it to get it to an .mp4 file, which takes extra time. 
uploading it on youtube also takes time - it takes an hour to get a two-hour video uploaded, and it takes another few hours for it to process so that you can publish it in 1080p. 
some of our laptops don’t have enough processing power to go through a three hour video - even encoding a half-hour episode can slow down our laptops so much they’re pretty much useless until it’s done. some of us even don’t have a media encoder on our laptops and have to run to computer labs to get it encoded. and if the closest one is on campus twenty minutes away and it’s snowing outside? good luck. 
people who gif casually or translate in blocks of text on twitter don’t have to deal with steps (2), (4) and (5), and that’s where the difference lies - even if they’re capable of translating things, the sheer amount of effort and time it takes can deter people from trying. 
in addition, most of the time, the content we sub is copyrighted so we can’t even monetise the eng subs - we get nothing out of subbing. 
the reason why we do it anyway is because we love the show or the people on the show and want to share that with an international audience. we’re fans and for some of us, that’s justification enough to put in the time and effort needed to get more love and attention for our faves. 
and that’s why we appreciate it when people ask us, “hi, would you be interested in subbing this show?” most of these requests are polite and include an “only if you want to” add-on (which frees us from the obligation to agree), and it lets us know that you’re following our faves and lets us know what kind of content you’re interested in. most of the time, most of us don’t even need a ‘thank you’ in the comments (although they are very much appreciated), because if we see comments laughing over a certain member’s actions, it means someone else is loving our faves too and to me, it makes the effort worth it. 
i understand people asking, “why does it take so long to sub?” out of curiosity, because before i joined my subbing teams, i knew nothing about the process. but going, “why is it taking so long to sub?” is different, and demanding that a show be subbed when it takes us ten hours of work to let you enjoy a twenty minute video? that’s not fair. 
tl;dr: don’t underestimate the amount of effort it takes to sub a show. subbers have their own lives and are not obligated to work on your schedule. 
if you’re still thinking about demanding subs faster, consider joining the subs team. otherwise, shut up and enjoy the fact that fans are putting in time and effort for your entertainment for free. 
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Day 10 - Black Mirror [Series]
Do you ever feel fabulously grateful for something crappy that happened to you, because it eventually led to something good? This is one of my favourite things in the world. I had one of these moments a few weeks ago. A co-worker had been motivating us all week to spend a crazy Friday night out. For totally work-unrelated reasons, I had been feeling pretty depressed lately and most of my evenings were spent alone in my apartment (mostly re-watching bad Youtube videos, probably in order to make sure that I still didn’t like them), so I looked forward to this night out. Getting anywhere close to drunk was off the table because I had made some damn good resolutions, but I was kind of hoping that we’d meet wonderfully weird people, and find a place where the decoration would make me laugh even more than the huge portrait of Angela Merkel that took up all the space of the ladies’ restroom door in a Germany-themed bar I once went to. Enjoying the city lights and probably dancing - to some terrible 2000’s music that would remind me of the awkward teenage parties I usually wasn’t invited to anyway – sounded like a nice sequel to this.
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In case you wonder: The weird Angela Merkel bar is actually called the Black Forest Society, and it’s located in Lyon, France. They have nice, original, good-resolutions-incompatible cocktails made with Black Forest Gin and fancy liquors and cocoa, sometimes served in kitschy recipients. A bit expensive, but still a nice experience. Oh, and they have bretzels as well.
Unfortunately, they had all lost their motivation sparkle by the time Friday came. Some of them wanted to get up early tomorrow, some had other plans, some were tired. I ended up being the only one who actually wanted to go. I had booked my train tickets to my parents’ for the next morning, so it became clear that this would be another lonely night in my flat. I soon found myself texting my co-worker, whining about how bored I was and asking her if she could think of something nice for me to read or watch.  She suggested me to try Black Mirror if I wanted food for thought about modern society. Black Mirror is a series of one-hour standalone episodes. That, my friends, is already a pretty great point for people like me who try to watch a zillion series at once - and inevitably end up forgetting what the hell the hot smart gay intern’s name is because 1) all these character names adding up can be rather confusing 2) they find time for an episode of the show every two months or so. Standalone episodes have that great habit of rightly assuming that, just like Jon Snow, the viewer knows nothing. Each one has its own cast, setting, and reality, which basically makes them short movies. What they all have in common in Black Mirror is the theme of new technologies and their unexpected consequences.
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By the way: Connor Walsh. The hot smart gay intern from How to get away with murder is Connor Walsh. He’s one of the main characters for the Seven’s sake, how could you even forget?
As you may have noticed, the theme is pretty broad, which allows for a number of variations. Some episodes are built around a specific fictional technology – what would happen, for instance, if everyone had a chimp implant that recorded everything they did, saw or heard, and allowed them to replay the entire memory, either in front of their eyes or on a screen? The Entire History of You is centered around that possibility. In an alternative reality where this technology allows personal data storage to go even further than it currently does – and anyone who once cringed in front of an n-th attempt from Facebook to revive awkward 8-year-old memories to celebrate a virtual friendship birthday will probably argue that this has already gone way too far – memories are never faded, let alone erased. Every recording is potentially an evidence to the jealous protagonist, who suspects his wife to have cheated on him with her ex and gets more and more paranoid as he keeps replaying potentially incriminating memories. The chilling Be right back, on the other hand, introduces us to realistic androids simulating the deceased using their previous communication data. Martha, a grieving young woman whose husband died in a car crash, reluctantly begins to communicate with an artificial intelligence accurately imitating her late partner – humour, interests, reactions, everything is calculated to sound like him. The digital ghost is convincing and Martha soon finds herself in love with him, until she gets frustrated with his inability to express emotions accurately, and his lack of the traits that were not expressed by her deceased husband in his digital life. The resulting story is truly haunting – no pun intended -, and is both a heart-wrenching exploration of grief and a starting point to an authentic riot of questions in the viewer’s mind, the most interesting probably being “What spares the human from a thinking machine anticipating its reaction to every situation, and able to be loved by the ones who knew the person behind?”.
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The Entire History of You - Nah, you told me your relationship had lasted one week, not one month, LOOK, I HAVE PROOF. *Memory replays*
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Hi digital ghost, I guess.
My favourite episodes, however, are those set in dehumanized, acerbic, cynical dystopias, built and revealed slowly over the course of the episode. In the thought-provoking Fifteen million merits, citizens only go out of their confined sleeping boxes to cycle endlessly on exercise bikes to power their screen-covered surroundings and generate Merits, a currency that allows them to skip the untimely, inopportune, sometimes obscene advertisements that keep interrupting their activities to sell them nothing but virtual items such as accessories for their avatars. Sleep. Cycle. Skip ad – if you can afford it. Interact briefly with one or two avatars. Repeat. The protagonist progressively becomes aware of the vacuity of this existence and craves realness since he got a glimpse of it in the singing voice of one of his co-cyclers, but even the only perceived escapes usually turn out to be smoking mirrors. Another great episode, Nosedive, is set in a colourful, alternative reality where people rate one another using their phones. Ratings determine their employability, access to services and overall value in society – some neighbourhoods are exclusively reserved to people with high ratings, and a low rating will make you lose your job. This leads people to obsess over their ratings and calculate every single social interaction, hoping to get the favours of high-rated people in order to raise their score and finally be able to get the discount they need to rent a house. Satires about social media society probably aren’t uncommon, but this one has that cynical feel created by the sharp contrast between the pink-and-pastel visuals and the hypocritical, chained social interactions that take place under a social media eye constantly ready to pull people under if they dare speak their minds or complain about anything. Nosedive gets even scarier when you think back about it and realise that the terrifying society described over the episode already exists, although in a less visible way. Social media does play a huge role in our personal and professional lives – who never thought of posting something on the social media just to impress someone? Who never heard a story of someone who got in trouble at work, or didn’t get hired, because of social media material? Who never got stuck into a conversation about what a common acquaintance posted on social media the day before? Who never paid at least a little attention to the number of likes they got on their Facebook post? And about the whole rating thing – I’m pretty sure you’re already familiar with “We’ll go to that restaurant, it’s really well-rated on Tripadvisor” or “If you liked it, please don’t forget to rate us”. And actually, apps that rate people are already a thing.
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Fifteen million merits and Nosedive - Different atmospheres, different alternate realities, same feeling of suffocating fakeness.
This is where Black Mirror generally gets brilliant: Although the alternate realities depicted in the show are usually noticeably different from ours, the viewer always ends up seeing a reflection of their own society. The scenarios X-ray aspects of our modern world and disguise them in a satirical, clever, accurate way that makes you think back about Black Mirror episodes long after you watched them. The questions raised by the series go way beyond the usual “You should all turn off your phones, get real again and go for a walk in the forest with your neighbour, social media turned you into narcissist brainless zombies” rhetoric. The variety of scenarios, from political satire to intimate drama, make sure you keep being surprised and never get bored. However, you will probably get uneasy pretty often – and I’m not saying that because the first episode revolves around the Prime Minister being ordered to have sex with a pig in order to save a princess from being killed. A cuddly blanket, a nice cup of tea, your favourite biscuits and a pair of arms/loving cat/soft toy (depending on what you have in store) are probably advised during, or after, a Black Mirror episode. Not providing yourself with that equipment and watching it right before going to bed will be at your own risk – I promise you don’t want your nightmares to turn into technologically advanced dystopias. Old school monsters are easier to run from.
And also: This is the tenth post of this Tumblr, which definitely deserves to be celebrated with the song that kind of inspired it. As hinted in the Crypt of the Necrodancer post, it’s the famous standard “My favorite things” (except I usually write it, like everything on that Tumblr, with the British spelling – I’m neither British nor American, and I’m trying hard to avoid cliché-ridden justifications such as “because it makes my blog posts smell like my beloved Twinings tea”). Just like that enthusiastic blog of mine, it’s an enumeration of amazing things. Let’s face it, “whiskers on kittens, bright copper kettles and warm woollen mittens” probably sound much better than “sad novels, weird computer games, robot exhibits and sci-fi-ish series”, but I promise I love kittens and soft mittens as well. I just don’t have enough material to write about them. Anyway, I thought you may enjoy this cover by Pomplamoose as much as I do.
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Social Media Projects, a Rope of Sand
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Coming at you from an irrelevant social media site, best known for the proliferation of soft-core porn and outdated Reddit memes. I will deliver in a sub-optimal fashion, the results of what can only be described as a woefully inadequate survey with only 7 participants. But I digress, this is an Arts degree, it’s basically what I signed up for. This brings us to the the actual meat of this assignment. I went to the /r/India subreddit late one night and asked a series of questions (available here if you want to verify that I did the bare minimum of social interaction), the actual questions are available below if clicking on a hyperlink bores you... But also to bolster my word count, mind you I’m planning on ignoring it anyway as Tumblr doesn’t have a convenient word count button and if it was intended that I first produce this in Word, I’d like to know why it couldn’t just be submitted as a word document in a first place. Instead you get to be showered in bad memes and terrible rambling sentences that go on for far too long and don’t end where they should.
Consider this my protest segment. Multimedia and Social Media projects do not have a place in every single goddamn subject even if it is current year. Technology is the future, but that isn’t the same as social media. Going to social media to source some (albeit limited) data from some statistically 15-35 year old men on Reddit was a good and interesting part of this assignment. Then telling us to go to Storify (shut down as of the 10th May 2018 and therefore irrelevant for an assignment due on the 13th), Tumblr (where I’ve chosen to not post porn to the disappointment of the wider userbase should they somehow stumble upon this), or Wordpress (which would require far effort than I’m prepared to give) is a waste of time when a perfectly serviceable report can be produced in a word doc. It’d also come with far less snark from me.
If I have to make an excuse, I’m embracing the medium. If you wanted a proper academic paper, you’d have asked for one.
On /r/India I asked the following questions
(1) Do you practice a religion (if yes, which one)?
(2) How important is religion to you?
(3) How does this vary between generations?
(4) How is religion treated within your community?
(5) Is there anything else you think I might find interesting but didn't ask?
(6) do you want your name blurred out in the final report (only 2 or 3 people will see it, but thought I'd ask)
before the 126,387 readers knocked me off the front page of /new and condemned my page to obscurity I had no chance of trending on the subreddit when there are teenage girls being raped and set ablaze. No levity, that's disgusting.
The first response I received came from an Atheist (or so I assume). weeping_peacock does not practice any religion, however they claimed that it was important to understand why religion exists and compared it to a virus (hence my assumption of atheism). I also got the impression that they were the black sheep of the family in that regard as  the majority of their family are Brahmins, and their community considers religion important (especially when it comes to marriage). Within his interesting tidbits to (lets be honest) educate my ignorant arse, they mentioned the conflict between religious and national identity which, when you consider that his family is from the dominant religious group comprising of roughly 80% of the population (as of 2011) feels a little odd, their national identity and religious identity are basically one and the same. Perhaps more interesting is the question of whether globalization has led to a tendency towards religion as a reactionary embracing of the familiar (that feels like some super awkward wording). I find this interesting because if it is the case, it would draw a parallel to China where religion is growing in opposition to a recent (here meaning a good 70 years) of government control.
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The second response came from someone who deleted their account in the 10 or so days since, this is either a coincidence or they created (and subsequently deleted) an account just to respond. [deleted] is a Muslim, and considers religion to be very important. They kept their answers very short and to the point so there isn’t much to analyze, it’s more a less what I expected from Islamic teachings, however they do point out that Muslims do not see the majority Hindu population as “others” despite what I may have been led to believe. This is interesting in that if anything I have been led to believe that the Hindu population sees the Muslims as being “others”
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The third response (that didn’t request I make a google survey form, a trend worth investigating in it’s own rright) took the quick and nasty yes/no format was not religious, was less religious than the older generation, didn’t really care about religion and observed conflict between different religious groups. A trend almost as old as time where religion is concerned.
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Response four wanted you to know his name, so here it is... lonerwithaboner is another non-religious youth, he notes that his mother’s generation is significantly more religious than him (as he doesn’t care). He did however bring up the distinction between religion as religion, and religion as philosophy. While according to the 2011 census,  99.12% of the population are religious, it ignores the portion of the population that may identify as Hindu, but view its teachings as more of a philosophy than a religion and thus ticked the box on the census but don’t really follow Hinduism in the religious sense.
I’ve run out of meme motivation...
Response five!
Another Muslim respondent (using the handle owaman), and in keeping with the vague theme provided by the aforementioned limited response rate, highly religious.  They note that between generations there isn’t a huge difference, sometimes the younger generation is more conservative, sometimes the older generation is, however they claim that the younger generation is more likely to research religion instead of blindly following what has been taught to them. owaman also says that in their experience, there is some Muslim/Hindu tensions, however in their experience, the most volatile comments are coming from the Hindu population.
In the sixth response we find another non-religious person. They believe that while their parents and grandparents are highly religious, it is not necessarily a generational shift. This is a sentiment I agree with to an extent, it is entirely possible that (as bigfatasura says) “people were always irreligious same as how religious they are.“ The difference now being that it is more socially acceptable to openly not follow a religion, while in the past people may have gone through with the motions in order to avoid being ostracized. Much like weeping_peacock, bigfatsura believes that religion plays an important role when it comes to marriage, either from a community perspective or purely for religious reasons is unclear as they did not elaborate.
In the seventh and final response I received before falling off the front page, Boob_Preski is spiritual but not religious which is similar to lonerwithaboner’s views as a philosophical Hindu rather than a religious one. On that same note, a portion of their family has embraced Buddhism, a religion known for its spiritual and philosophical emphasis. They also believe that religion is detrimental to society echoing weeping_peacocks sentiments.
Closing thoughts.
With very limited data, it would seem that the Indian Reddit population is likely to be either Muslim or a non-practicing Hindu. My survey basically confirmed my suspicions, religion is still somewhat important, especially for the Muslim population and older generations, however the younger generation is increasingly turning away from religion, or selectively following aspects that they deem important or worth keeping. This post will self destruct along with this Tumblr account and the Reddit post on the 1st of August 2018.
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