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demonscantgothere · 2 years

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An Argument for Sauron!Halbrand, Show Clues Or Red Herrings, Pt. 1

I went back and poured over what I could have been mistaking as red herrings, but couldn’t get past episode two without dozens of potential easter eggs, so I felt a little compendium was worth writing out. There are a few references and call backs to the original The Lord of the Rings trilogy, especially with the cinematography, and I’m going to include other snippets from Tolkien’s compendiums that they have cleverly weaved into the writing. Other things are more noticeable, like the directing and acting in certain scenes.

Some people seem really angry about it, but they mostly seem to be people who haven’t even watched the material and just read spoiler blogs, run around, and scoff at everything. But, to me as a longtime Tolkien fan, I love the adaptation. It’s rich with lore, phenomenal acting and directing, and set pieces to die for. Am I bitter about any changes so far? No. Most of what they have changed is a result of not having legal rights to the material. For example, they weren’t given rights to the material that states a definitive date on Galadriel’s marriage to Celeborn, which could explain why he has been absent so far. The rest of what they have changed is simply timelines, condensing a large span of time into a much smaller frame to show two huge stories where Sauron was a main character: The Forging of the Rings of Power and Akallabêth. He wasn’t a big eyeball during this time; he had a body, and he was still at that point capable of appearing fair and noble to both Elves and Men.

If you want Sauron to remain hidden and be a big reveal, you’re not going to give him the alias he used in Tolkien’s writings because a quick Google search would reveal it. I’m not understanding why people aren’t getting that. Did you really want to see a character named Annatar? Did you really? I would’ve been so disappointed in the writers if they had done that.

They obviously wanted to weave a big story using well-known key players: Galadriel and Elrond. Considering Galadriel’s expanded role in The Hobbit, I feel it’s safe to say they were adding onto that by saying ‘maybe her involvement with this Sauron business goes way back, let’s explore that some more’ because it was Galadriel that banished Sauron in The Hobbit, not Elrond or even Gandalf.

Making her, one of the very few women in Tolkien’s writings who take the forefront anyway, the main character was a great move. Everyone’s tired of hearing a man’s story, anyway. The Lord of the Rings was a whole company of nothing but men that spurned decades of m/m fanfiction nobody’s ever complained about, so does it really matter that Galadriel potentially has a love interest? Does it really? Potentially being the key word here as most of what has happened between them has been, well, verbal sparring and basic human kindness and maybe a handful of emotional overtures? The hypocrisy on that alone just because she’s a female character is astounding to me. I’ve seen so many men joking about ‘slut-shaming’ her. She is a fictional character, and I find her very in-character for a young, strong-willed woman. Er, Elf.

Anyway, this breakdown starts with episode one and two. Be warned, it’s image heavy.

Episode 1: A Shadow of the Past

We have the first clue/red herring in the scene with High King Gil-Galad and Elrond as they discuss the newly minted decision to send Galadriel away as a gift when, to her, if feels like a banishment. She has been searching for Sauron nonstop in vegeance for her brother Finrod’s death, but it’s been centuries and everyone really wants Galadriel to cool it. Then, we get this little gem:

We all know how looking into the future is Tricky Business™ for Elves, and well, anybody. In The Fellowship of the Ring when Frodo asks Galadriel, “What will I see?” if he looks into the mirror, she replies:

“Even the wisest cannot tell. For the mirror shows many things. Things that were, things that are, and some things . . . that have not yet come to pass.”

To drop this line: “We foresaw that if it had, she might have inadvertently kept alive the very evil she sought to defeat,” in your opening episode, you’re basically telling us that Galadriel, refusing to let this go, is what’s going to bring about Sauron’s evil once more. No one has seen Sauron for hundreds of years at this point, perhaps longer, so yeah, maybe they were right and she should’ve let this go.

But we wouldn’t have a story to tell if she did, so bag that up. “The road to hell is paved with good intentions,” as they say during times like these.

Next, when facing the curtains of Valinor opening before her, Galadriel recalls a conversation with her brother. It is a metaphor for good and evil, right and wrong, hope and despair. The part we see here is just her question of his metaphor, though: “But sometimes the lights shine just as brightly reflected in the water as they do in the sky. How am I to know which lights to follow?”

To me, this is showing us that Galadriel isn’t always going to know which lights are the “good people” and which lights are the “bad people” pretending to be good people. Because that’s the difference. Sometimes some people really convince you they’re good and you believe it — but it’s just a reflection of what you want to see. In reality, it’s a lie, a ruse, or a mask. I think this is going to be a huge part of her journey: figuring out the truth.

And in that fateful moment when she chooses to jump off the ship, we get our meteor man, who is most certainly a Maia, but which one? I don’t know. We have only so many Maiar with names, the most well-known being Gandalf, Saruman, Radagast, Sauron, and Melian. They are basically Tolkien’s renderings of angels from Christianity, with the fifteen Valar (yes, I said fifteen — Melkor/Morgoth still counts) being more like Arch Angels of higher power than them.

There is actually a reference to this meteor in The Adventures of Tom Bombadil by Tolkien:

“He twinkled his feet, as he thought of the meat,

of pepper, and punch galore;

And he tripped unaware on his slanting stair,

and like a meteor,

A star in flight, ere Yule one night

flickering down he fell

From his laddery path to a foaming bath

in the windy Bay of Bel.”

I think he could be any of the Maia above except for Sauron or Melian. In fact, he could be one we haven’t met yet. I think either possibility is a fun one, and I haven’t made up my mind on this one yet. If it’s Tom, I love it. They did cut him completely out of the original triology.

However, I don’t think he’s Sauron because Sauron was given a chance to go to Valinor and answer to the Valar after Morgoth’s defeat, but he didn’t want to face the humilation of having to earn his penance, so he fled and hid himself. Coming down out of the sky in a big ball of fiery flame is not congruent with his attitude at the time . . . and he would’ve needed permission from Ilúvatar to do it, which he most certainly did not have.

“Of old there was Sauron the Maia, whom the Sindar in Beleriand named Gorthaur. In the beginning of Arda Melkor seduced him to his allegiance, and he became the greatest and most trusted of the servants of the Enemy, and the most perilous, for he could assume many forms, and for long if he willed he could still appear noble and beautiful, so as to deceive all but the most wary. When Thangorodrim was broken and Morgoth overthrown, Sauron put on his fair hue again and did obeisance to Eönwë, the herald of Manwë, and abjured all his evil deeds. And some hold that this was not at first falsely done, but that Sauron in truth repented, if only out of fear, being dismayed by the fall of Morgoth and the great wrath of the Lords of the West. But it was not within the power of Eönwë to pardon those of his own order, and he commanded Sauron to return to Aman and there receive the judgement of Manwë. Then Sauron was ashamed, and he was unwilling to return in humiliation and receive from the Valar a sentence, it might be, of long servitude in proof of his good faith, for under Morgoth his power had been great. Therefore when Eönwë departed he hid himself in Middle-earth.”

– J.R.R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion, “Of the Rings of Power and the Third Age”

Sauron isn’t trying to draw attention to himself right now, so that is why I don’t believe meteor man is him.

Now, getting back to the show, we get an answer from Finrod at the very beginning of the episode to Galadriel’s childhood question: “But sometimes the lights shine just as brightly reflected in the water as they do in the sky. How am I to know which lights to follow?”

I feel like Galadriel is going to be at a crossroads with this before this show is over. She is going to have a hard time distinguishing friend from foe. Somebody close to her is likely not who she thinks they are, and it’s going to be a painful reveal for her when it happens. Given that Sauron was known to be deceptive and sweet-talking, it makes sense. I know Tolkien said Galadriel sensed Sauron’s evil, but he also said the One Ring corrupted everybody, and yet somehow little human Faramir wasn’t affected by it. Pffft.

Episode 2: Adrift

When we meet Halbrand, he says something we’ve heard before:

In The Fellowship of the Ring, Galadriel says "the tides of fate are flowing” to Frodo Baggins. It’s no coincidence. Why, thousands of years later, is this line still remembered and being repeated to Frodo as he goes on a quest to destroy Sauron?

Yeah, fondness doesn’t seem like a valid enough reason if you ask me.

When the sea monster attacks the raft, we get a scene of Halbrand purposefully undoing the ropes on the raft and pushing his part away from everybody else, and he . . .

. . . literally pushes them toward the monster’s mouth. I had to watch it a few times to be certain, but he most certainly fed his companions to the sea monster and saved himself. I don’t know some things, but I know kings in Tolkienverse don’t act like this guy. He is a Grade A Street Survivalist.

And after he’s fed everyone to the sea monster to appease it, he goes back to Galadriel. This is where things get really interesting.

When he throws down the oar, he smirks. Rewatch the episode if you didn’t see it, but he most certainly smirked.

And I don’t know about you, but that rescue scene was creepy as hell. Pay attention to Halbrand’s face. This is how he looked down at her, not extending his hand to help in any way, for nearly half a minute:

I mean, Jesus. That’s not the face you want to see on your rescuer, is it? Not only that, but the music score got darker and lower in that moment as if teasing whether or not he would actually help her. I’m going to be honest. Bad vibes. Bad vibes all around.

Arm Clasp #1

Yes, I’m keeping track of these because there are a lot of arm clasping moments with these two.

I snickered at the subtitles for that one, though, not gonna lie.

I mean, in all honesty, he really looks at her in uncomfortable ways during this episode. Take, for instance:

And um, yeah, he totally checked out her backside:

And liked what he saw.

And, for some reason, thinks this is great moment to smile:

No, Halbrand. No.

This is just not the behavior of a Tolkienverse king or lord. I’m going to say this many times before all this is through. He is no Aragorn by any stretch of the imagination, and a part of me is really skeptical that he is supposed to be a lord.

Later on, Galadriel sees his pendant and has thoughts about it.

Halbrand’s immediate response is to cover it up and conceal it within his shirt.

After concealing something in attempt to keep his distance from her, he has the audacity to tell her, “You needn’t keep your distance.” I . . . what? He’s encouraging her to get closer to him? When he won’t do the same? Sadly, it’s a classic manipulation tactic.

Galadriel already has her thoughts about this human, and they are not at first positive.

“The sort that knows how to survive. Why be part of the larger target?” I am reminded of how Sauron fled after refusing to face the Valar after Morgoth’s defeat. After all, back then, the real target was Morgoth, and . . . he made sure to get the hell out of dodge.

Not only that, but why would a Southron man be all the way out to sea, out west, west past Númenor, so close to the perils one faces when trying to seek access to Valinor and you’re not given a ticket in past the golden curtain? Was someone trying to . . . sneak into Valinor?

I have questions. There is no reason in all the world that a Southron man should be out here.

Sauron, on the other hand . . . I can understand an attempt from him to slip into Valinor unseen.

Personally, this sounded a little like a veiled threat from Halbrand.

Ah, fellow deserters. He pokes and prods at her a lot for information, and even says he thinks she is here by no accident. I don’t think he’s here by accident either. You two were both planning something, and that’s why you’re here.

I think he’s projecting here. But also, if you’re just a man, a human, do you think an Elf cares what you decide about them? I could almost laugh. It definitely makes Galadriel angry, which causes a very interesting vision to appear.

After Halbrand mentions his homeland, Galadriel gets a flash back to the Fortress of Angband, the last known stronghold of Sauron’s that he was forced to desert:

The image even blazes with fire, which never happened when Galadriel saw it in person. I almost think this is a vision she’s receiving. From who? Good question.

Maybe you’re . . . a little too close to the source?

This is perhaps a small turning point, but Haldbrand still doesn’t seem very moved by it.

His look at this question says no to me.

Why is this funny? Literally, no king or lord in all of Tolkienverse would scoff at eventually reclaiming their rightful lands. Who is this guy?

Oh boy, is he out here dodging questions and letting her draw her own conclusions.

When she says, “I chose to seek out the very enemy responsible for your suffering,” Halbrand takes that real personal. Real personal.

And there would be so much irony in the idea that she is finally face to face with that same foe and cannot recognize him.

There is something about the way he responds to that. He seems more sullen now. No smart quips. Just silence. Because you know what? This is personal for her, too.

I really find it funny that he wants to comment on honesty while not answering a damn thing about himself. This guy knows something about hiding, all right.

One particular line during this scene caught my eye more than others, too:

“If you want to murder Orcs and settle a score, that’s your affair. Don’t dress it up as heroism.”

First of all, who ever says ‘murder’ Orcs? Kill Orcs, sure, because no one thinks it’s a crime to kill Orcs. Murder implies it’s a crime. Why would he use that wording if Orcs took everything from him and slaughtered his people? ‘Don’t dress it up as heroism’ has got me confused as well because taking out Orcs is basically heroism as they are torturous, reviled, evil creatures. Look at Halbrand, standing up for Orc rights. Okay, buddy. Okay.

The casual look on his face. He knows she won’t stop, so he tells her what she wants to hear. He never explicitly states that’s his home either. The emblem on his pendant is from the Southlands, though, and we later discover Adar is down there, wrecking havoc, but . . . there’s more to this story with Halbrand and Adar.

As Halbrand states, “I’ve got my own plans, Elf,” a convenient storm rolls in:

Given where they are at sea, this is one of the perils and I feel like it was done on purpose. The moment Halbrand says he has ‘plans,’ we get a storm that could very well kill both of them and end those plans. My personal vote is the Valar sensed something wasn’t right, who was out there, and responded accordingly.

Lightning strikes immediately as she says, “Bind yourself to me!”

And lightning strikes again when she says, “Give me your hand!”

Next thing we know, the wooden pole Galadriel bound herself to gets a direct lightning hit. Man, she really pissed off the Valar if you ask me. Why didn’t they just strike Halbrand? We wouldn’t have a story if they did, that’s why.

Galadriel goes under, and Halbrand . . . seems to be in shock about it. He definitely waited for the whole rope to sink, though. Why save her if he’s Sauron? Well, she did just promise him an army. And to help him reclaim his former position of power. I don’t know about you, but I’d keep her around, too. This Elf could be very useful.

And we get this beautiful cinematography below. A really well constructed moment that heralds back to The Two Towers when Frodo saves Sam from drowning:

The Two Towers:

Below, we can argue the look of shock on his face was relief at having something sharp to just cut the rope with, but I think he recognizes Finrod’s dagger. It can go either way, but they highlighted his shock on purpose so we could see it.

Galadriel climbs aboard first once they’re back up.

Arm Clasp #2

Yes, I’m keeping count. I think there is clearly a pattern with the word ‘bind’ when it comes to their storyline as it shows up a lot.

The purposeful contrast of their clothing in the above shot on the raft. Him, dark. Her, light. Maybe I’m reading into it too much, but I don’t know. A good setup does stuff like this on purpose.

. . . And this is how they’re found. I’m going to be honest, I just threw this in here because it looks like Halbrand fell asleep while keeping an eye on Galadriel . . . she might stab him with that dagger, after all. Or maybe he just thinks she’s nice to look at. Given the way he’s eyeballed her all episode, I’m going to say he definitely thinks she’s nice to look at. But might also be capable of killing him. And I do like that vibe.

Did he even hand the dagger back? I know in the next episode Elendil has it, and Halbrand steals it from him to give it back to Galadriel. Hmmm. Questions. So many questions.

As an introductory episode, Halbrand raises more questions than his presence answers, and he isn’t readily painted as a good guy. Him rescuing her from drowning was really the only good deed he did. Or did he have an ulterior motive for that, too? Only time will tell.

#rings of power #halbrand #sauron #galadriel #sauron!halbrand #an argument for sauron!halbrand #an essay of sorts

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thelastspeecher · 3 years

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Stan Falls in Love With a Frog

We started talking about a new Scenario in the Discord, and it’s been making me very happy, especially since the Scenario takes place in a Mystery Trio-style AU, and I’m a big fan of the Mystery Trio AU. So, I whipped this up earlier. Enjoy.

——————————————————————————————

Stan sat on the edge of the dock, looking out over the water of Lake Gravity Falls. In the fading light, mist curled above the lake surface. He sighed and reeled his fishing line back in.

Dammit. I shoulda got here earlier if I wanted to catch anything. Stan wasn’t opposed to night fishing in general, but he was opposed to it in Gravity Falls. He had seen in person some of the weird things that came out when it got dark. Something surfaced in the lake, breaking the thin layer of fog. Speaking of… Stan idly watched it swim. Wonder what kinda spookum this one is. The creature pulled itself out of the lake and onto a large rock. Stan’s jaw dropped. That’s a chick!

It was rapidly getting darker, so he couldn’t make out many fine details. But the creature looked eerily like a human woman. With the exception of elongated, webbed feet and ears, what looked like a pair of antennae, and mottled skin. She pushed back her short hair with hands that also seemed to be webbed.

What the hell is that? Stan leaned, squinting, trying to get a better look. The movement knocked his tacklebox into the lake.

“Shit!” he swore. The woman looked over. Her eyes, glowing a soft blue, widened. She dove back into the lake. Stan sighed. “Great.” He got to his feet and trudged back to the Stanleymobile. Before he got in, he glanced back at the lake. The water was as smooth as glass.

It was like the woman had never been there.

-----

Stan returned to Lake Gravity Falls the next morning at the break of dawn. Normally, he wouldn’t wake up so early just to go fishing, but Ford and Fiddlenerd had a full day of traipsing around in the forest planned. If he wanted to actually have enough time to catch something, he needed to fish before, not after.

If Fiddlenerd’s weird little sister wasn’t visiting, this wouldn’t be a problem. Stan sat down at the edge of the dock and opened the tacklebox he’d “borrowed” from Fiddlenerd. But Fiddlenerd wants someone with actual muscles to be there to protect her from whatever’s in the woods today. There was a loud thunk to his left. Stan looked over. He gaped. The tacklebox he’d dropped in the lake yesterday sat next to him.

“What the hell?” Stan opened the tacklebox to inspect its contents. It was soaked through, which made sense, given it had been at the bottom of the lake the night before. But other than his fresh bait, nothing was missing. “How did-” There was a soft splash. Stan looked up. A creature was in front of him.

It’s that one lady from yesterday. She was mostly submerged, with only her eyes and the crown of her head above the water. Her hair was a black that, like her light green skin, blended in with the lake. She looks sorta like a frog.

“You brought me my tacklebox,” Stan said. The frog woman nodded. “Why?” She hesitated, then sunk underwater. Stan waited for a few minutes to see if she would come back up. When she didn’t return, he sighed and began to set things up to fish.

The missing bait makes sense now. Of course a frog would eat all my worms.

-----

“It’s about time!”

“Yeah, yeah, nice to see you too,” Stan groused, pushing past Ford and into the house. He’d spent more time than he meant to fishing. Naturally, the moment he came back home, Ford got on his case.

“We were supposed to leave an hour ago! Today’s plans are completely ruined!” Ford said. Stan rolled his eyes.

“Walking around in the woods isn’t something that takes all day, Poindexter.”

“The specific location Fiddleford and I were going to take his sister to is quite some distance away.”

“It’s fine, Stanford,” said the aforementioned sister of Fiddlenerd. She was laying on the living room couch, reading a guidebook on amphibians of the Pacific Northwest. “I was hopin’ to check out some of the cute places in town, anyways.” She smiled at Ford. “The forest can wait fer tomorrow.”

“I- but-” Ford started.

“Before you short-circuit, Sixer, I’ve got a question,” Stan interrupted. Ford glared at him. “So, I saw this frog-lady at the lake-”

“Frog-lady?” Ford scoffed. Out of the corner of his eye, Stan saw Fiddlenerd’s sister still. “Are you mocking me?”

“What? No! I thought you liked weird shit. I mean, you came up here to study it and dragged me along to be your muscle.”

“I like magical creatures, Stanley,” Ford said, crossing his arms. “Not regular humans who have features you might think resemble an amphibian.”

“She wasn’t a regular human!”

“There are no humanoid amphibious creatures around here,” Ford said firmly. “There is, however, a woman in town who was born with webbing between her fingers and couldn’t afford the surgery to get it removed. I think it’s rather cruel of you to make fun of her.”

“No, I wasn’t-” Stan sighed. “Whatever.”

“Go upstairs and change,” Ford instructed. “You smell of fish.”

“Like you’re one to talk, Mr. Doesn’t Shower For a Week,” Stan muttered. Fiddlenerd’s sister snickered softly. He began to walk upstairs. “At least someone around here’s got a sense of humor.”

-----

Though he had returned to the lake at dusk that day, Stan hadn’t seen the frog-lady. He came back the next morning at dawn, hoping to spot her again. As he sat at the end of the dock, he found himself dozing off, lulled into sleep by the early hour and peaceful surroundings. He was jolted back to wakefulness by a splash nearby.

“You came back,” a voice said. Stan looked up. It was the frog-lady. Her head was now fully emerged from the water. She looked at him with intelligent blue eyes. Though her face was one shade of pale green, the rest of her head was mottled with darker greens. Her nose was thin and flat, evidently nonhuman.

“Well, yeah,” Stan said with a shrug. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest. “I’ve gotta thank you for giving me back my stuff.”

“It’s yours. Why would I keep it?” the frog-lady asked. Her voice was lilting and musical, sounding almost like raindrops hitting leaves. And yet, there was something about it that seemed familiar. Like he’d heard her talk before.

“I dunno. ‘Cause you could?”

“Heh.” The frog-lady smiled. “I don’t really have a need for human things.”

“What are you?” Stan blurted out. The frog-lady froze. “Wait, shit, was that racist of me or something?” The frog-lady nodded silently. “I take it back.” He cleared his throat. “My name’s Stan. What’s yours?”

I don’t wanna scare her off. She might be a frog, but she’s pretty cute.

“…Rana,” the frog-lady said after a moment.

“That’s pretty.”

“Thanks.” Rana chewed on her lip for a moment. “Why do you want to talk to me?”

“What do you mean?”

“I know what your brother does.” Rana’s eyes bored into Stan. “I know he likes to study critters like me, with or without their consent. Are you collecting data for him?”

“Please.” Stan waved a hand airily. “Even if he and Fiddlenerd were both in full-body casts, he wouldn’t want me to collect data for him.” Rana managed a small smile. “He’d probably hire some weirdo from town to do it instead.” Rana snickered softly. Like her voice, it sounded familiar. A car engine roared to life, the sound echoing across the lake. Stan looked over. Someone had pulled into the parking lot. He looked back at Rana.

She was gone, only a few ripples remaining on the surface where she’d been.

-----

Stan paced in the living room. It had been a week since he learned Rana’s name, and many more meetings with her at dawn. And to his shock, he was beginning to fall for her.

Sure, she’s not human. Sure, she hasn’t come out of the water all the way yet. But she’s nice and funny and teases me when I say something racist against frogs. Stan smiled fondly, remembering how he had brought her worms yesterday, only for her to throw them at him. I like a lady who doesn’t take any shit. He frowned. She doesn’t like worms…what does she like? I’ve gotta impress her if I’m gonna make a move on her. She gets spooked so easily.

“Stanley,” Fiddlenerd said wearily. Stan stopped. He looked over at the card table in the corner, where Fiddlenerd was working on some sort of machine. “Yer goin’ to wear a hole in the wood if ya don’t stop pacin’!”

“Nah, let him keep goin’,” Fiddlenerd’s sister said. Once again, she was on the couch reading a book about amphibians. “Maybe he’ll pick up the pace and start a fire.” She smirked at Stan, who merely rolled his eyes in response.

“What are you still doing here?” he asked. Fiddlenerd’s sister shrugged.

“I like it here. I’ll stay until Fidds kicks me out.”

“So, you’re never gonna leave,” Stan said flatly. Fiddlenerd’s sister snorted in amusement. Stan sighed. He looked back at Fiddlenerd. “Do you know anything about frogs?” Bringing up frogs to Ford only resulted in him scolding Stan, no matter how Stan phrased his questions. Fiddlenerd shook his head.

“No. But Angie does.”

“Who’s Angie?”

“Wh-” Fiddlenerd set down his wrench, staring at Stan. “My sister!” Stan looked at Fiddlenerd’s sister, apparently named Angie. She waved at him cheerfully. “She’s been here fer over a week and ya haven’t even learned her name yet?”

“It didn’t come up,” Stan said with a shrug. Ignoring Fiddlenerd’s sputtering, he sat down next to Angie. “So. Your name is Angie.”

“Yes. It is.”

“It’s a lot more normal than Fiddlenerd’s name,” Stan remarked. Fiddlenerd let out a squawk of protest. Angie sighed.

“Spit it out. What do ya want?”

“Do you know about frogs?”

“I certainly hope I do, since my doctorate is in herpetology,” Angie said tartly. Stan frowned at her. “The study of reptiles and amphibians.”

“Ah. Okay.” Stan scooted a bit closer. His nose picked up on a faint pondwater smell coming from Angie. She eyed him warily. “What do frogs like?”

“What do-” Angie stared at him. “What?”

“You heard me. What do frogs like?”

“I mean, it depends on the frog.” Angie rubbed the back of her neck. “What do ya need to know this for?”

“There’s this frog-lady that I met-”

“Oh, pish posh,” Angie scoffed. “I’ve heard ‘bout yer frog-lady from Stanford. He says that she don’t exist.”

“And you’re just gonna believe him?”

“I ain’t an expert in the wildlife ‘round here. Stanford is. I don’t really have a choice but to take him at his word.”

“Where’s that famous herpetology skepticism?” Stan asked. Angie rolled her eyes and got up, setting her book on the nearby end table.

“I’m goin’ fer a walk,” she said. “If I see any frog-ladies, I’ll let ya know.”

Great. She was my best shot at advice for Rana. I mean, she knows frogs and she’s a woman! Stan’s eyes landed on Angie’s book. Hmm… He picked it up. There was a bookmark. He thumbed to the bookmarked page. It was the beginning of a chapter on a specific genus called Rana. Huh.

“That’s weird,” Stan muttered out loud.

“What?” Fiddlenerd asked.

“None of your business,” Stan shot at him. Fiddlenerd rolled his eyes and went back to working on his machine.

My frog-lady has the same name as a kind of frog. Makes sense. Stan looked over at Angie, who was putting her shoes on by the front door. But why was Angie looking up that kind of frog?

-----

Rana giggled at Stan’s latest terrible joke. Stan beamed.

“Glad you’ve got a sense of humor,” he said. Rana smiled. Car tires crunched on gravel. Stan didn’t have to look to know that it was the arrival of the early fishermen. After two weeks talking to Rana, he’d developed a routine. He would sit at the edge of the dock and wait for her to emerge, then the two would chat until the first fishermen showed up. Stan sighed. “Same time tomorrow?” he asked Rana. Rana nodded. She dipped underwater.

Stan got up and made his way down the dock, ignoring the fishermen who clearly thought he was insane to be at the lake so early for no apparent reason. He walked over to where he normally parked the Stanleymobile, only to remember he’d parked by the edge of the forest that day.

“Great decision-making, past Stan,” he mumbled idly. “Parking where the gnomes could bite through your brake lines again.” He went to the Stanleymobile. Before he opened the door, however, he heard a large splash and leaves rustling nearby. A voice swore softly.

That sounded like Rana. Stan tucked his car keys back into his pocket and went into the woods, following the sound of Rana’s voice. He arrived at a small clearing at the edge of the lake. Rana had pulled herself onto shore. Stan stared at her. It was the first time he was seeing below her neck up close; he’d only seen her full body once before, back when he knocked his tacklebox into the lake. Her front was the same pale green as her face, with darker greens mottling around her sides and back. The texture of her skin looked soft and slimy. Despite her hourglass figure, she was fairly flat-chested.

I mean. She is a frog. Why would she have boobs? Rana pulled herself up into a seated position, leaning against a tree trunk. Stan stared at her long, flipper-like feet. No wonder she swims so fast. Suddenly, her feet began to shrink. Stan’s eyes widened, watching Rana’s flippers change to pale, human feet. His eyes widened further as he realized that her feet weren’t the only thing changing. Before his eyes, Rana was transforming from a frog-lady into a naked human woman. One that Stan recognized.

Rana got up and grabbed a pile of clothing from behind the tree, mumbling to herself. A twig snapped under Stan’s foot. Rana’s head shot up. She stared at Stan in horror.

“Stan?!” she squeaked. Stan swallowed.

Damn, her nose gets flat when she’s a frog.

“Hey, Angie.”

#I based Stan's frog-lady off of the nixies from the Spiderwick Chronicles #so if you want a frame of reference I would google image search that. they are v cool looking #anyways this Scenario is fun and I love it v v v much #Mystery Trio AU #Stanley Pines #Stanford Pines #Fiddleford McGucket #Angie McGucket #ficlet #my writing #my stuff #speecher speaks #Nixie AU

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esmecarmona · 2 years

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hello! i absolutely adore your gifsets and you've honestly inspired me to start gifmaking. may i ask for any tips you may for gifmaking or what programs to use for a beginner gifmaker?

ty so much that’s so sweet 😭 but honestly i'm just winging it skjfnkj i open photoshop and simply hope for the best! there's a few good tutorials floating around tumblr (this one has some good basic information, including how to sharpen, etc)

(if you have no experience with photoshop at all i would highly recommend going to youtube and watching a couple of videos covering the basics/explaining what every tool in order to familiarize yourself! it can be overwhelming (or it was for me, at least) in the beginning, and until you find your rhythm, it will really help to have a reference.)

my personal process is using potplayer to get screencaps to make gifs. this is how i first learned and i started doing it again at the end of last year because my other method (cutting clips from videos then importing into photoshop that way) always felt a little dull/fuzzy and personally i think screencaps provide a clearer image! but! you can work with straight video if you're patient + good at ps. i am neither

my steps:

open potplayer (download here)

get to the part of the video you want to cap. pause it, then hit control + g on your keyboard to bring up the screencapture menu. i have a folder just called "potplayer" where my caps go. my settings:

("10,000" is just so i make sure i get all the caps i want. i hit stop once it's moved past what i want to gif on screen.)

open photoshop

file > scripts > load files into stack. this can take a while depending on how many frames you're loading in at once. when it's done, go to window > timeline > create frame animation. in the corner of the timeline box will be four horizontal bars; click on it, and use make frames from layers, then hit reverse.

this is where i start editing. first, i crop; make sure you're cropping to tumblr dimensions, i.e. 540px for a single column, 268px for two. (i never put three gifs side by side, and i can’t seem to find an up-to-date post that confirms the size for it, but i think it’s 178px, if you’re curious). my most common ratios are 540x540, 540x500, 540x338, 540x304. depends on the scene, what i'm giffing, if there's dialogue, etc. for a lot of my dialogue sets, like here, i use 540x338; for these john-117 gifs, i used 540x540. it’s all about what looks best to you, what you want to achieve, etc. i never use 540x540 for dialogue, i reserve it for movie sets or just “x as y” sets.

next comes coloring, which is the most painful part of the process. most of the time i really just spam color balance because i’m a mess, but it’s what works for me since i prefer vibrancy for gifs. it can help you change colors and create nice sets like these when used alongside selective color; you can either enhance what’s already there, or change the colors entirely. take, for example, this john set: there were some nice colors to work with already:

i didn’t have to add too many adjustment layers to make it vibrant!

the purple john set required a little more work (and the purple adjustment layer was gifted to me by @aldensutton because i suck at making purple in ps, it always turns pink)

it really just comes down to practice and finding what works for you/what you’re giffing. here and here are two tutorials you can use as starting places from people who seem to know a lot more than me. googling “giffing coloring tutorials for photoshop tumblr” will bring up more. you can also find premade psds across various photoshop blogs on tumblr; i make all of mine myself these days, but i used to use a lot from this creator as bases. searching any kind of “free psd” “gif psd” should yield some good results in the tumblr search - just remember you will need to manipulate them regardless for what you’re giffing. no two shows are alike. no two scenes from a single show are alike. this is where it can become really frustrating.

once you’re satisfied with your coloring, though, it’s time to sharpen. the first tutorial i linked goes a little bit into the basics of how to sharpen, but it’s not my method, which is inconsistent and different for every gif. i don’t know about other people, but i just sharpen the frames, not the adjustment layers, which is probably dumb but <3 to sharpen, you go to the same menu you used when creating frames from layers. choose “convert to video timeline”, then select all the frames of the gif, group them using ctrl+g, then convert to smart object, then go to filter > sharpen > smart sharpen. my base sharpening is always 500 for amount, 0.3 for radius, and 0 for reduce noise. sometimes i double up on 500, sometimes i sharpen again at just 200 or 150, depending on what looks best. there’s also this method that i like for certain gifs. sharpening is very important for giffing.

for some gifs i will add noise, but that depends on my personal preference and isn’t something i’ll get into since it’s not standard/is just a personal aesthetic i enjoy.

i suppose i should mention that for dialogue, you select text tool then click in the left-hand corner, then drag to create a box that your text will show up in. it’s the easiest way to center/ensure text aligns on all frames. all you have to do is lower it to the bottom half of the gif. my font preference is arial rounded mt bold; font size depends on the size of the gif.

once everything is cropped, colored, and sharpen, you save by going to file > export > save for web. my export settings change somewhat from from gif to gif:

and that’s pretty much it! at least for what i can offer. i learned just by doing, trying things out, getting frustrated, etc... sknfkj i also get a LOT of help from @aldensutton as i mentioned before, she provides a lot of insight and opinions for me, and has really helped me to where i am now <3 it just takes a lot of trial and error to find what works best for you. it took me a while to get to where i am now; i feel like the gifs i was making just a year ago are so terrible, honestly. i can try to help further if you need it, there’s undoubtedly some things i missed, and there’s tons of blogs on tumblr that provide photoshop help, run by people far more knowledgeable than me! once again ty so much for the compliment <33 i hope you have fun gifmaking! it really is fun for me

#hope this is in any way readable i am simply so bad at explaining things #ref

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thewritershelpers · 4 years

Text

Improving Your Writing when English Isn’t Your First Language (mega-ask)

As you can see above, we've gotten more than one question about writing, improving your writing, and even publishing in English when it's not your native language. First off: that's awesome. To anyone writing or even consuming in a language that's not your first, kudos to you.

You can google any variation of this question and get different articles with a ton of the same advice, and some with conflicting advice. Not only have I compiled the most commonly repeated information, but I've also reached out to people on our Discord server and others for their personal experiences.

I'll start off by listing concise versions of the advice and then expound on them further on in the article. Remember that we are not experts on your writing and that everyone learns in different ways and at different paces. These are in no particular order.

-be patient

-practice

-get feedback from native sources

-don't undermine yourself to your audience

-Grammarly

-research

-don't get discouraged

Be patient

That's first because, well, duh. Patience is so important for both yourself and your writing. Writing is hard enough of a passion without the added difficulty of doing it in a language that doesn't come naturally. In the world of literature, writing/publishing in your non-native language isn't just a matter of translating words. It requires translating of ideas, concepts, and even cultural norms, which is why just slapping it into Google translate won't work.

Part of the reason for the advice of having patience, too, is that writing in your native language needs to take time. It doesn't really matter how fast you can whip out 20 pages of a first draft--it'll still be a simple first draft. Writing is a craft that requires not just love and passion but time. So what if you need a little bit of extra time--or a lot of extra time--because you're accomplishing a feat most don't even think about attempting?

Next is to practice.

That goes hand in hand with what I said about being patient. Again, writing in and of itself is all about practice and doing it daily (not that I'm an expert on getting that done, but you know). But when it comes to practice another language, there are different ways you can do that. You can reach out to native speakers (for English, there are going to be so many people willing to help, even just in our community! you just need to ask) and practice having conversations or ask them to look over your work. Practice by turning on your favorite movie or TV show in English with subtitles in your native language. Watch videos on YouTube, find a Spotify playlist/podcast, in your target language. There's also plenty of people who have done what you're trying to do who have shared their experiences and what helped them on those same platforms.

Get feedback from native speakers

This is a bit of an expansion on what I mentioned in the previous paragraph. In my experience, and from what others have shared, writing in a non-native language can be pretty clinical. Writing with figurative language or in metaphors won't be as easy or come as naturally as it does in your own language. Things like idioms and even pop cultures reference aren't always going to translate even if you have the exact words. That's where native speakers come into play. If they're willing to look over your work, whether as a friend or in an editorial position, they can give you advice about whether the wording in one spot sounds clunky or if a phrase doesn't make sense or if there're synonyms for what you already used to help convey your message even stronger.

Don't undermine yourself

This is something that I personally am saying. It's not mentioned on any of the linked sites, and no one I talked to said it. But as someone who is a native English speaker (and even has a degree in it) I think this is super important. This point goes towards native English speakers/writers, too. Don't undersell yourself and undermine your work to the audience before they have even picked it up. Disclaimers are different, and it all comes down to the words you use and how you use them. Let your readers know, whether it's people on AO3 or a literary agent, that English isn't your first language. Let them know concisely that they may find some basic errors--but stop there. Don't grovel. You have nothing to apologize for, especially once you've given that warning (those is it really a warning? what's so dangerous or scary about a few mistakes?). You're writing is not going to be any less of an accomplishment for a few grammatical errors, or mistranslated phrases, or even typos. I've seen so many mistakes in published works that it's kind of ridiculous. But if you put something out there for someone to read and in the same breath say "I don't know that this is worth reading" I'm going to need extra convincing to pick it up. *kicks soapbox away*

Grammarly

*NOT sponsored*

Grammarly is a wonderful tool that you can use, for FREE. It not only (with the free version) helps correct spelling and grammar, but can also help point out the tone you're writing with. For example, right now, Grammarly is telling me that this writing sounds mostly informative--which it's meant to be--and a little appreciative and friendly. When sending emails I've had it tell me that it sounds formal (which I was going for), and I've also had it not say anything because the text was a different kind of writing (like when I'm proof-reading something being posting it on AO3...). I honestly don't know what else it helps with once you've paid because I've been happily using the free version for about 3 years now.

Research

Don't be afraid to pick up a book, or head to the library, or pull up Google. Research is paramount to writing anyway, let alone once you're doing it in another language. Your research options are limitless and can include your mutuals on social media as well as those dictionaries that translate from one language into another. Research can also include (in my humble opinion) binge-watching/reading your favorite things...in English. In four years of university, one of the most frequently said things was to improve your writing 1) write every day and 2) read every day. You're never going to learn from worrying or overthinking, and you're also never going to learn from just doing DuoLingo (that's more conversational than literary anyway).

Something a member of Discord specifically said in relation to research was to look at morphology, at the roots of words (and root words). Morphology is, in linguistics, looking at how words are formed. For example, let's look at "biology". There are parts to this word that each has a different meaning, that formed together created a new/elevated meaning. "ology" means the study of something, and bio means life. So biology is, simply, the study of life. Once you've got those basics of things like "ology" under your belt it'll become easier to not just translate words but the concepts (if this works with your learning style).

Last but not least, don't get discouraged.

Writers of all kinds get discouraged when writing in their native language. Even those of us who speak English as our first language make mistakes worth discouragement (you will never know how many typos were corrected by Grammarly as I wrote this all out the first time). English is not an easy language. It's not the hardest, but it's far from easy (learning another language isn't easy regardless of what languages are involved). This is a post from someone who is a non-native English speaker but you would never know unless they told us.

While researching for this, I found some articles/blog posts that said mostly the same thing, and are where I got some of the information

This one is from a native English speaker giving advice

This one is for writing for non-native English readers, but still has good advice

And finally this one is a blog post (I think) from someone who is a non-native English speaker!

In specific response to some of the asks:

English, like any other language, changes. It's a very dynamic language, actually, and from region to region, there will not only be different accents but different frames of reference. 1950 isn't so far back in time for the English to be drastically different from what is spoken today, but I'm in the USA and you're asking about Oxford. English in England has very different nuances, even more so than you would get between California and Texas and New York. This is a link to the Oxford English Dictionary list of words that became more common in the 50s. However, this is a generalized list, not specific to any English-speaking country let alone region or city. If you're wanting to look at how to convey the accent of people from/in Oxford, there are videos on YouTube of people speaking in different accents so that you can have an idea, a comparison, at least in your own mind. With the 50s it's going to be more just thinking really of what words and lifestyles and things weren't around yet; cell phones didn't exist yet. Here's another link to some stock images of Oxford in the 50s. Remember, this time was very close to WWII so there'll be lingering effects of that, especially in England.

About fight scenes and curses, there's a ton of resources on that. If you just search "fight" on our page, you'll get a ton of posts answering that question. Also, here's a link to a superb and excellent source on writing fight scenes. When it comes to curses...just watch Rage Quit on YouTube, or spend a while on TikTok. If you want to dive right in just Google "English curses" and there'll be YouTube videos, entries on Urban Dictionary, you name it.

When it comes to publishing, once you've gotten your manuscript is a perfect time to have a native-speaking friend look it over. Whether editing is their thing or not, they'll be able to help with the things that are really obvious. I don't have any experience publishing in a different language, though, so there might be other resources along the different stages to help you. Some general publishing advice I've gotten: when wanting to publish fiction, literature, start small. Start with short stories in literary journals, online and in print. You really can't make much headway with large publishing houses without a literary agent and it'll be easier to attract one if you have evidence that you can write, and write well enough people want to read it. When it comes to poetry, just start submitting. Get familiar with the process, and educate yourself on things like simultaneous submissions and a good rejection. Publishing is an ever-changing game that isn't cut and dry in any language or country. We can't tell you what's best, but my advice is to go with your gut and try your best. Don't be afraid to try again, too.

Everyone overthinks their writing. Or at least, everyone I know who writes does. Honestly, in my opinion, if you're not overthinking at least a little bit, you're not worried enough. You will never be able to fully know whether you've explained or described enough. A good chunk of the experience is up to the readers, so you have to leave them some wiggle room for imagination. But that doesn't mean you have to cheapen your story or short-change your characters. You mention specifically that you're POC, which I'm gonna guess also means that your characters will be POC. It's never too much to specify the race/ethnicity of your characters, even in a fantasy work. How you go about writing those descriptions might need to change but it's kind of like chocolate chips, in my mind: you decide those things with your soul.

So, there you have it. A ridiculously long way to say: you're awesome, you do you, practice, love yourself and your writing, and don't be afraid to put yourself out there (in any way).

(images read:

Anonymous said: Im writing a book based in Oxford in 1950s. how was the language different from now. I am not from an English speaking country at all. Never been outside my country either. And Im going to write a book based in England in English

Anonymous said: Hi there, I’m a writer for almost 3 years now but since English isn’t my first language I get discouraged easily if things I write come off strange to myself. Do you maybe have any advice for me, on how to motivate myself and not comparing myself with native English speakers? Thank you in advance!

Anonymous said: Hello! I starting to work on this shortfic but it’s been really hard. It’s like I’m trying to building a house alone and with my bare hands. Even though I’m already used to write in mother tongue. Any advice for non-english speaker trying to write their first story in English?

Yaelburstine said: Hi. Do you have any tips about how to write a good fight scene and curses that people speak English get cus’ it’s not my first language

gyger said: I am not a native english speaker, but most of the books I read are in english and I generally prefer writing in english as well. However, I am worried about making mistakes that I can’t recognize myself. I have no idea how good my english is to a native english speaker, plus some things are easier to write in my native tongue (such as dialogue). I’m also worried about publishing, since that definitely would be easier in my country than abroad. How do I decide what language to choose?

Anonymous said: As a POC writer and English as their second language, I overthink all the writing I do. I feel like I don’t describe my ideas thoroughly or my character descriptions are vague or not good enough. I’m currently working on a YA novel but I plan on writing a YA fantasy novel but I feel like my lack of vocabulary and grammar structure makes me give up on finishing my book. Is this normal for native English speaking authors or is this considered a language barrier thing? Thanks! Love your blog!

Thank you for your questions, and for your patience as we do our best to answer them.

-S

#TWH Respond #ESL #writing in a second language #mega ask #improving English #resources

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96harmony96 · 3 years

Text

Chapter 2

Just before I exited the elevator into the vestibule of Waters Field & Leaman, the advertising firm I worked for on the twentieth floor, Lauren whispered in my ear, “Think about me all day.”

I squeezed her hand surreptitiously in the crowded car. “Always do.”

She continued the ride up to the top floor, which housed the headquarters of Jauregui Industries. The Crossfire was her, one of many properties she owned throughout the city, including the apartment complex I lived in.

I tried not to pay attention to that. My mom was a career trophy wife. She’d given up my father’s love for an affluent lifestyle, which I couldn’t relate to at all. I’d prefer love over wealth any day, but I suppose that was easy for me to say because I had money—a sizable investment portfolio—of my own. Not that I ever touched it. I wouldn’t. I’d paid too high a price and couldn’t imagine anything worth the cost.

Megumi, the receptionist, buzzed me through the glass security door and greeted me with a big smile. She was a pretty woman, young like me, with a stylish bob of glossy black hair framing stunning Asian features.

“Hey,” I said, stopping by her desk. “Got any plans for lunch?”

“I do now.”

“Awesome.” My grin was wide and genuine. As much as I loved Cary and enjoyed spending time with him, I needed girlfriends, too. Cary had already started building a network of acquaintances and friends in our adopted city, but I’d been sucked into the Lauren vortex almost from the outset. As much as I’d prefer to spend every moment with her, I knew it wasn’t healthy. Female friends would give it to me straight when I needed it, and I was going to have to cultivate those friendships if I wanted them.

Setting off, I headed down the long hallway to my cubicle. When I reached my desk, I put my bag and purse in the bottom drawer, keeping my smartphone out so I could silence it. I found a text from Cary: I’m sorry, baby girl.

“Cary Taylor,” I sighed. “I love you . . . even when you’re pissing me off.”

And he’d pissed me off royally. No woman wanted to come home to a sexual clusterfuck in progress on her living room floor. Especially not while in the middle of a fight with her new girlfriend.

I texted back, Block off the wknd 4 me if u can.

There was a long pause and I imagined him absorbing my request. Damn, he texted back finally. Must be some ass kicking u have planned.

“Maybe a little,” I muttered, shuddering as I remembered the . . . orgy I’d walked in on. But mostly I thought Cary and I needed to spend some quality downtime together. We hadn’t been living in Manhattan long. It was a new town for us, new apartment, new jobs and experiences, new partners for both of us. We were out of our element and struggling, and since we both had barge loads of baggage from our pasts, we didn’t handle struggling well. Usually we leaned on each other for balance, but we hadn’t had much time for that lately. We really needed to make the time. Up for a trip to Vegas? Just u and me?

Fuck yeah!

K . . . more later. As I silenced my phone and put it away, my gaze passed briefly over the two collage photo frames next to my monitor—one filled with photos of both of my parents and one of Cary, and the other filled with photos of me and Lauren. Lauren had put the latter collection together herself, wanting me to have a reminder of her just like the reminder she had of me on her desk. As if I needed it . . .

I loved having those images of the people I loved close by: my mom with her golden cap of curls and her bombshell smile, her curvy body scarcely covered by a tiny bikini as she enjoyed the French Riviera on my stepdad’s yacht; my stepfather, Richard Stanton, looking regal and distinguished, his silver hair oddly complementing the looks of his much younger wife; and Cary, who was captured in all his photogenic glory, with his lustrous brown hair and sparkling green eyes, his smile wide and mischievous. That million-dollar face was starting to pop up in magazines everywhere and soon would grace billboards and bus stops advertising Grey Isles clothing.

I looked across the strip of hallway and through the glass wall that encased Mark Garrity’s very small office and saw his jacket hung over the back of his Aeron chair, even though the man himself wasn’t in sight. I wasn’t surprised to find him in the break room scowling into his coffee mug; he and I shared a java dependency.

“I thought you had the hang of it,” I said, referring to his trouble with the one-cup coffee maker.

“I do, thanks to you.” Mark lifted his head and offering a charmingly crooked smile. He had gleaming dark skin, a trim goatee, and soft brown eyes. In addition to being easy on the eyes, he was a great boss—very open to educating me about the ad business and quick to trust that he didn’t have to show me how to do something twice. We worked well together, and I hoped that would be the case for a long time to come.

“Try this,” he said, reaching for a second steaming cup waiting on the counter. He handed it to me and I accepted it gratefully, appreciating that he’d been thoughtful about adding cream and sweetener, which was how I liked it.

I took a cautious sip, since it was hot, then coughed over the unexpected—and unwelcome—flavor. “What is this?”

“Blueberry-flavored coffee.”

Abruptly, I was the one scowling. “Who the hell wants to drink that?”

“Ah, see . . . it’s our job to figure out who, then sell this to them.” He lifted his mug in a toast. “Here’s to our latest account!”

Wincing, I straightened my spine and took another sip.

* * *

I was pretty sure the sickly sweet taste of artificial blueberries was still coating my tongue two hours later. Since it was time for my break, I started an Internet search for Dr. Terrence Lucas, a man who’d clearly rubbed Lauren the wrong way when I’d seen the two men together at dinner the night before. I hadn’t gotten any further than typing the doctor’s name in the search box when my desk phone rang.

“Mark Garrity’s office,” I answered. “Camila Cabello speaking.”

“Are you serious about Vegas?” Cary asked without preamble.

“Totally.”

There was a pause. “Is this when you tell me you’re moving in with your billionaire girlfriend and I’ve got to go?”

“What? No. Are you nuts?” I squeezed my eyes shut, understanding how insecure Cary was but thinking we were too far along in our friendship for those kinds of doubts. “You’re stuck with me for life, you know that.”

“And you just up and decided we should go to Vegas?”

“Pretty much. Figured we could sip mojitos by the pool and live off room service for a couple days.”

“I’m not sure how much I can pitch in for that.”

“Don’t worry, it’s on Lauren. her plane, her hotel. We’ll just cover our food and drinks.” A lie, since I planned on covering everything except the airfare, but Cary didn’t need to know that.

“And she’s not coming with us?”

I leaned back in my chair and stared at one of the photos of Lauren. I missed her already and it’d been only a couple of hours since we’d been together. “she’s got business in Arizona, so she’ll share the flights back and forth, but it’ll be just you and me in Vegas. I think we need it.”

“Yeah.” He exhaled harshly. “I could do with a change of scenery and some quality time with my best girl.”

“Okay, then. She wants to fly out by eight tomorrow night.”

“I’ll start packing. Want me to put a bag together for you, too?”

“Would you? That’d be great!” Cary could’ve been a stylist or personal shopper. He had serious talent when it came to clothes.

“camila?”

“Yeah?”

He sighed. “Thank you for putting up with my shit.”

“Shut up.”

After we hung up, I stared at the phone for a long minute, hating that Cary was so unhappy when everything in his life was going so well. He was an expert at self-sabotage, never truly believing he was worthy of happiness.

As I returned my attention to work, the Google search on my monitor reminded me of my interest in Dr. Terry Lucas. A few articles about her had been posted on the Web, complete with pictures that cemented the verification.

Pediatrician. Forty-five years of age. Married for twenty years. Nervously, I searched for “Dr. Terrence Lucas and wife,” inwardly cringing at the thought of seeing a golden-skinned, long-haired blonde. I exhaled my relief when I saw that Mrs. Lucas was a pale-skinned woman with short, bright red hair.

But that left me with more questions. I’d figured it would be a woman who’d caused the trouble between the two men.

The fact was, Lauren and I really didn’t know that much about each other. We knew the ugly stuff—at least she knew mine; I’d mostly guessed her from some pretty obvious clues. We knew some of the basic cohabitation stuff about each other after spending so many nights sleeping over at our respective apartments. she’d met half of my family and I’d met all of her. But we hadn’t been together long enough to touch on a whole lot of the periphery stuff. And frankly, I think we weren’t as forthcoming or inquisitive as we could’ve been, as if we were afraid to pile any more crap onto an already struggling relationship.

We were together because we were addicted to each other. I was never as intoxicated as I was when we were happy together, and I knew it was the same for her. We were putting ourselves through the wringer for those moments of perfection between us, but they were so tenuous that only our stubbornness, determination, and love kept us fighting for them.

Enough with making yourself crazy.

I checked my e-mail, and found my daily Google alert on “Lauren Jauregui.” The day’s digest of links led mostly to photos of Lauren, in black tie sans tie, and me at the charity dinner at the Waldorf Astoria the night before.

“God.” I couldn’t help but be reminded of my mother when looking at the pictures of me in a champagne Vera Wang cocktail dress. Not just because of how closely my looks mirrored my mom’s—aside from my hair being brown, long and straight—but also because of the mega-mogul whose arm I graced.

sinu Cabello Barker Mitchell Stanton was very, very good at being a trophy wife. She knew precisely what was expected of her and delivered without fail. Although she’d been divorced twice, both times had been by her choice and both divorces had left her exes despondent over losing her. I didn’t think less of my mother, because she gave as good as she got and didn’t take anyone for granted, but I’d grown up striving for independence. My right to say no was my most valued possession.

Minimizing my e-mail window, I pushed my personal life aside and went back to searching for market comparisons on fruity coffee. I coordinated some initial meetings between the strategists and Mark and helped Mark with brainstorming a campaign for a gluten-free restaurant. Noon approached and I was starting to feel seriously hungry when my phone rang. I answered with my usual greeting.

“camila?” an accented female voice greeted me. “It’s Magdalene. Do you have a minute?”

I leaned back in my chair, alert. Magdalene and I had once shared a moment of sympathy over Corinne’s unexpected and unwanted reappearance in Lauren’s life, but I’d never forget how vicious Magdalene had been to me the first time we’d met. “Just. What’s up?”

She sighed, then spoke quickly, her words flowing in a rush. “I was sitting at the table behind Corinne last night. I could hear a bit of what was being said between her and Lauren during dinner.”

My stomach tensed, preparing for an emotional blow. Magdalene knew just how to exploit my insecurities about Lauren. “Stirring up crap while I’m at work is a new low,” I said coldly. “I don’t—”

“she wasn’t ignoring you.”

My mouth hung open a second, and she quickly filled the silence.

“she was managing her, camila. She was making suggestions for where to take you around New York since you’re new in town, but she was doing it by playing the old remember-when-you-and-I-went-there game.”

“A walk down memory lane,” I muttered, grateful now that I hadn’t been able to hear much of Lauren’s low-voiced conversation with her ex.

“Yes.” Magdalene took a deep breath. “You left because you thought she was ignoring you for her. I just want you to know that she seemed to be thinking about you, trying to keep Corinne from upsetting you.”

“Why do you care?”

“Who says I do? I owe you one, Camila, for the way I introduced myself.”

I thought about that. Yeah, she owed me for when she ambushed me in the bathroom with her catty jealous bullshit. Not that I bought it as her sole motivation. Maybe I was just the lesser of two evils. Maybe she was keeping her enemies close. “All right. Thank you.”

No denying I felt better. A weight I hadn’t realized I was carrying around was suddenly relieved.

“Something else,” Magdalene went on. “she went after you.”

My grip tightened on the phone receiver. Lauren always came after me . . . because I was always running. My recovery was so fragile that I’d learned to protect it at all costs. When something threatened my stability, I ditched it.

“There have been other women in her life who’ve tried ultimatums like that, camila. They got bored or they wanted her attention or some kind of grand gesture . . . So they walked away and expected her to come after them. You know what she did?”

“Nothing,” I said softly, knowing my man. A man who never spent social time with women she slept with and never slept with women she associated with socially. Corinne and I were the sole exceptions to that rule, which was yet another reason why her ex sent me into fits of jealousy.

“Nothing more than making sure Angus dropped them off safely,” she confirmed, making me think it’d been a tactic she’d tried at some point. “But when you left, she couldn’t chase after you fast enough. And she wasn’t herself when she said good-bye. she seemed . . . off.”

Because she’d felt fear. My eyes closed as I mentally kicked myself. Hard.

Lauren had told me more than once that it terrified her when I ran, because she couldn’t handle the thought that I might not come back. What good did it do to say that I couldn’t imagine living without her when I so often showed her otherwise with my actions? Was it any wonder she hadn’t opened up to me about her past?

I had to stop running. Lauren and I were both going to have to stand and fight for this, for us, if we were going to have any hope of making our relationship work.

“Do I owe you now?” I asked neutrally, returning Mark’s wave as he left for lunch.

Magdalene exhaled in a rush. “Lauren and I have known each other a long time. Our mothers are best friends. You and I will see each other around, Camila, and I’m hoping we can find a way to avoid any awkwardness.”

The woman had come up to me and told me that the minute Lauren “shoved her dick” in me, I was “done.” And she’d hit me with that at a moment when I was especially vulnerable.

“Listen, Magdalene, if you don’t cause drama, we’ll get by.” And since she was being so forthright . . . “I can screw up my relationship with Lauren all by myself, trust me. I don’t need any help.”

She laughed softly. “That was my mistake, I think—I was too careful and too accommodating. she has to work at it with you. Anyway . . . I’ve taken up my minute. I’ll let you go.”

“Enjoy your weekend,” I said, in lieu of thanks. I still couldn’t trust her motivation.

“You, too.”

As I returned the receiver to its cradle, my gaze went to the photos of me and Lauren. I was abruptly overwhelmed by feelings of greed and possession. she was mine, yet I couldn’t be sure from one day to the next whether she’d stay mine. And the thought of any other woman having her made me insane.

I pulled open my bottom drawer and dug my smartphone out of my purse. Driven by the need to have her thinking as fiercely about me, I texted her about my sudden desperate hunger to devour her whole: I’d give anything to be sucking your cock right now.

Just thinking about how she looked when I took her in my mouth . . . the feral sounds she made when she was about to come . . .

Standing, I deleted the text the moment I saw it’d been delivered, then dropped my phone back in my purse. Since it was noon, I closed all the windows on my computer and headed out to reception to find Megumi.

“You hungry for anything in particular?” she asked, pushing to her feet and giving me a chance to admire her belted, sleeveless lavender dress.

I coughed because her question came so soon after my text. “No. Your choice. I’m not picky.”

We pushed out through the glass doors to reach the elevators.

“I am so ready for the weekend,” Megumi said with a groan as she stabbed the call button with an acrylic-tipped finger. “A day and a half left to go.”

“Got something fun planned?”

“That remains to be seen.” She sighed and tucked her hair behind her ear. “Blind date,” she explained ruefully.

“Ah. Do you trust the person setting you up?”

“My roommate. I expect the guy will at least be physically attractive, because I know where she sleeps at night and paybacks are a bitch.”

I was smiling as an elevator car reached our floor and we stepped inside. “Well, that ups your odds for a good time.”

“Not really, since she found him by going on a blind date with him first. She swears he’s great, just more my type than hers.”

“Hmm.”

“I know, right?” Megumi shook her head and looked up at the decorative, old-fashioned needle above the car doors that marked the passing floors.

“You’ll have to let me know how it goes.”

“Oh, yeah. Wish me luck.”

“Absolutely.” We’d just stepped out into the lobby when I felt my purse vibrate beneath my arm. As we passed through the turnstiles, I dug for my phone and felt my stomach tighten at the sight of Lauren’s name. she was calling, not sexting me back.

“Excuse me,” I said to Megumi before answering.

She waved it off nonchalantly. “Go for it.”

“Hey,” I greeted her playfully.

“camila.”

I missed a step hearing the way she growled my name. There was a wealth of promise in the roughness of her voice.

Slowing, I found I was speechless, just from hearing her say my name with that edginess I craved—the sharp bite that told me she wanted to be inside me more than she wanted anything else in the world.

While people flowed around me, entering and exiting the building, I was halted by the weighted silence on my phone. The unspoken and nearly irresistible demand. she made no sound at all—I couldn’t even hear her breathing—but I felt her hunger. If I didn’t have Megumi waiting patiently for me, I’d be riding an elevator to the top floor to satisfy her unvoiced command to make good on my offer.

The memory of the time I’d sucked her off in her office simmered through me, making my mouth water. I swallowed. “Lauren . . .”

“You wanted my attention—now you have it. I want to hear you say those words.”

I felt my face flush. “I can’t. Not here. Let me call you later.”

“Step over by the column and out of the way.”

Startled, I looked around for her. Then I remembered that the Caller ID put her in her office. My gaze lifted, searching for the security cameras. Immediately, I felt her eyes on me, hot and wanting. Arousal surged through me, spurred by her desire.

“Hurry along, angel. Your friend’s waiting.”

I moved to the column, my breathing fast and audible.

“Now tell me. Your text made me hard, camila. What are you going to do about it?”

My hand went to my throat, my gaze sliding helplessly to Megumi, who watched me with raised brows. I lifted one finger up, asking for another minute, then turned my back to her and whispered, “I want you in my mouth.”

“Why? To play with me? To tease me like you’re doing now?” There was no heat in her voice, just calm severity.

I knew to pay careful attention when Lauren got serious about sex.

“No.” I lifted my face to the tinted dome in the ceiling that concealed the nearest security camera. “To make you come. I love making you come, Lauren.”

she exhaled harshly. “A gift, then.”

Only I knew what it meant for Lauren to view a sexual act as a gift. For her, sex had previously been about pain and degradation or lust and necessity. Now, with me, it was about pleasure and love. “Always.”

“Good. Because I treasure you, Camila, and what we have. Even our driving urge to fuck each other constantly is precious to me, because it matters.”

I sagged into the column, admitting to myself that I’d fallen into an old destructive habit—I’d exploited sexual attraction to ease my insecurities. If Lauren was lusting after me, she couldn’t be lusting after anyone else. How did she always know what was going on in my mind?

“Yes,” I breathed, closing my eyes. “It matters.”

There’d been a time when I’d turned to sex to feel affection, confusing momentary desire with genuine caring. Which was why I now insisted on having some sort of friendly framework in place before I went to bed with a man. I never again wanted to roll out of a lover’s bed feeling worthless and dirty.

And I sure as hell didn’t want to cheapen what I shared with Lauren just because I was irrationally scared of losing her.

It hit me then that I was off balance. I had this sick feeling in my gut, like something awful was going to happen.

“You can have what you want after work, angel.” her voice deepened, grew raspier. “In the meantime, enjoy lunch with your co-worker. I’ll be thinking about you. And your mouth.”

“I love you, Lauren.”

It took a couple of deep breaths after I hung up to compose myself enough to join Megumi again. “I’m sorry about that.”

“Everything all right?”

“Yes. Everything’s fine.”

“Things still hot and heavy with you and Lauren Jauregui?” She glanced at me with a slight smile.

“Umm . . .” Oh yes. “Yes, that’s fine, too.” And I wished desperately that I could talk about it. I wished I could just open the valve and gush about my overwhelming feelings for her. How thoughts of her consumed me, how the feel of her beneath my hands drove me wild, how the passion of her tortured soul cut into me like the sharpest blade.

But I couldn’t. Not ever. She was too visible, too well known. Private tidbits about her life were worth a small fortune. I couldn’t risk it.

“she sure is,” Megumi agreed. “Damn fine. Did you know her before you started working here?”

“No. Although I suppose we would have met eventually.” Because of our pasts. My mother gave generously to many abused children’s charities, as did Lauren. It was inevitable that Lauren and I would’ve crossed paths at some point. I wondered what that meeting would have been like—her with a gorgeous blonde on her arm and me with Cary. Would we have had the same visceral reaction to each other from a distance as we’d had up close in the Crossfire lobby?

she’d wanted me the moment she saw me on the street.

“I wondered.” Megumi pushed through the revolving lobby door. “I read that it was serious between you two,” she went on when I joined her outside on the sidewalk. “So I thought maybe you’d known her before.”

“Don’t believe everything you read on those gossip blogs.”

“So it’s not serious?”

“I didn’t say that.” It was too serious at times. Painfully, brutally so.

She shook her head. “God . . . listen to me pry. Sorry. Gossip is one of my vices. So are extremely hot women like Lauren Jauregui. I can’t help but wonder what it’d be like to hook up with a gir whose body screams sex like that. Tell me she’s awesome in bed.”

I smiled. It was good to hang out with another girl. Not that Cary couldn’t also be appreciative of a hot guy, but nothing beat girl talk. “You won’t hear me complaining.”

“Lucky bitch.” Bumping shoulders with me to show she was teasing, she said, “How about that roommate of yours? From the photos I saw, she’s gorgeous, too. Is she single? Wanna hook me up?”

Turning my head quickly, I hid a wince. I’d learned the hard way never to set up an acquaintance or friend with Cary. He was so easy to love, which led to a lot of broken hearts because he couldn’t love back the same way. The moment things started going too well, Cary sabotaged them. “I don’t know if he’s single or not. Things are . . . complicated in his life at the moment.”

“Well, if the opportunity presents itself, I’m certainly not opposed. Just sayin’. You like tacos?”

“Love ’em.”

“I know a great place a couple blocks up. Come on.”

* * *

Things were going well in my world as Megumi and I headed back from lunch. Forty minutes of gossip, guy-ogling, and three awesome carne asada tacos later, I was feeling pretty good. And we were returning to work a little over ten minutes early, which I was glad for since I hadn’t been the most punctual employee lately, even though Mark never complained.

The city was thrumming around us, taxis and people surging through the growing heat and humidity as they crammed what they could into the insufficient hours of the day. I people-watched shamelessly, my eyes skimming over everyone and everything.

Men in business suits walked alongside women in flowing skirts and flip-flops. Ladies in haute couture and five-hundred-dollar shoes teetered past steaming hot dog vendor carts and shouting hawkers. The eclectic mix of New York was heaven to me, stirring an excitement that made me feel more vibrant here than anyplace else I’d ever lived.

We were stopped by a traffic light directly across from the Crossfire, and my gaze was immediately drawn to the black Bentley sitting in front of it. Lauren must’ve just gotten back from lunch. I couldn’t help but think about her sitting in her car on the day we’d met, watching me as I took in the imposing beauty of her Crossfire Building. It made me tingly just thinking about it—

Suddenly, I went cold.

Because a striking blonde breezed out of the revolving doors just then and paused, giving me a good, long look at her—Lauren’s ideal, whether she’d been aware of it or not. A woman I’d witnessed her fixate on the moment she’d seen her in the Waldorf Astoria ballroom. A woman whose poise and hold over Lauren brought out all my worst insecurities.

Corinne Giroux looked like a breath of fresh air in a cream-colored sheath dress and cherry red heels. She ran a hand over her waist-length hair, which wasn’t quite as sleek as it’d appeared last night when I’d met her. In fact, it looked a little disheveled. And her fingers were rubbing at her mouth, wiping along the outline of her lips.

I pulled my smartphone out, activated the camera, and snapped a picture. With the proximity of the zoom, I could see why she was fussing with her lipstick—it was smeared. No, more like mashed. As if from a passionate kiss.

The light changed. Megumi and I moved with the flow, closing the distance between me and the woman who’d once had Lauren’s promise to marry her. Angus stepped out of the Bentley and came around, speaking to her briefly before opening the back door for her. The feeling of betrayal—Angus’s and Lauren’s—was so fierce, I couldn’t catch my breath. I swayed on my feet.

“Hey.” Megumi caught my arm to steady me. “And we only had virgin margaritas, lightweight!”

I watched Corinne’s willowy body slide into the back of Lauren’s car with practiced grace. My fists clenched as fury surged through me. Through the haze of my angry tears, the Bentley pulled away from the curb and disappeared.

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sukunussy · 4 years

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y’all i truly do not do drama but i’m tired of the rpc in many ways and last night i decided to speak up in a small capacity. i sent an ask, off anon, to an rp set in new orleans, louisiana asking them why there were so few black people (not poc, but specifically black people) in their graphics (referring to ads, aesthetics, and site previews posted during their site buzz).

this is the response i received from @uhxrp.

i will break it down bit by bit.

“recently, we got an ask that felt very hostile in wording and tone and it felt like the person who sent it in was actively trying to start discourse instead of have a discussion..” wow! i’m a white passing latina but this is 100% tone policing at work if i ever saw it. for anyone unfamiliar with tone policing, check out this medium article. it states that “By laser focusing on the emotions behind what the person of color is saying, the white person is able to move the conversation away from her own inappropriate conduct and back onto the POC. In this way, the problem ceases to be the racist comment and instead becomes the POC’s reaction to it.” another helpful post about why this is hurtful and misguided. mind you, the quote above was the very first reaction to my ask. i don’t have record of the ask because they didn’t answer it publicly, instead responding in a post, but if i’m not mistaken i said something very close to: is there a reason why you have so few black people in your graphics when your site is set in new orleans? for this to be considered hostile during the public and open site buzz for an rp is extremely defensive on the part of the staff and, later on in the post, assumes that i came to them with a “lack of respect.” i do not apologize if calling out racism is disrespectful. if that’s your perception of an ask like that, perhaps you need to take a step back and think about what you’re really saying: call out racism... nicely. (though i do not think that the ask, however it’s framed, can really be seen as mean, hostile, or disrespectful if taken at face value. i merely wanted to know the logic behind the lack of visible representation.) their response continued, “honestly, if the ask was simply misread and the hostility and, to be truthful, lack of respect was misinterpreted somehow, then that’s our mistake. but i very much do not think this to be the case. if you’d be willing to have a conversation instead of a confrontation, we’d be more than willing to discuss it and hear concerns and, as we’ve stated from the beginning, take suggestions.” if you wanted to have a conversation rather than go on the defensive, you could have directly reached out to me, as i asked off anon. you not only assumed my intentions but belittled my concerns by making them out to be a way to gratify myself by arguing. in fact, asking in the way that i did is a tactic to make people self-reflect rather than go on the offensive when engaging in difficult conversations. i did not call you racist. i did not say i was angry. i just wanted to know if there was a process in place to make sure the site wouldn’t whitewash its setting. let’s talk about why i asked about that! a simple google search of “new orleans demographics” pulls up, “According to the most recent ACS, the racial composition of New Orleans was: Black or African American: 59.74% White: 33.99% Asian: 2.90%...” 60% black! this was the first point of rebuttal in the statement: “truth be told, we have around 40 different ad images that were all queued at random to post once a day and go past the time our site buzz will end. these have a diverse range of models in them, something we looked for specifically. we also have a pretty diverse list of face claims, and we are making characters that are well researched and representative, to be inclusive of all diversities and differences.“ they added images to their post to demonstrate that they did have black people in their ad images. every black person in these photos was light-skinned and fit a eurocentric standard of beauty, so i wouldn’t claim that that’s very diverse, but at least there are some black people. as of today, there are two black people on the reserves list out of thirty-five faces. only one is dark skinned. (if i misidentified any of the faces on the reserves list, i apologize -- i googled names i was unfamiliar with but this is fallible.) i don’t expect the demographics of a site to be the same as the real life city, but you have to admit that is a HUGE disparity. how diverse is it when the models are all light-skinned? thin? abled? words like “diverse” lose their meaning when we rest on our laurels so easily. i know rp isn’t real life, and settings are flexible when it comes to how much they share in common with their real life inspirations. however, when you take a black city and do not prioritize Black stories, characters, and history -- african american and caribbean and african in the mix that exists in a place like new orleans -- that’s more than fantasy. it’s whitewashing. in this moment in history, i felt moved to speak up about that. if you “...also aren’t going to be a site that only features poc in our graphics to be performative either. our site is for all types, and we want to encourage diversity truly,” then my asking about black representation should strengthen your approach to that challenge, not threaten you. my ask was not about diversity. it wasn’t about wokeness. it was about lack of black representation that i could see for a site set in a predominantly black city with a huge and important role in black history and culture. your site is stunning. you’ve put a lot of work in! i don’t dispute that. you are clearly thinking about community and social justice, given your mission statement (which i read before i sent my message). in fact, seeing a message like that encouraged me to speak out where many sites honestly... don’t even look like they would spare a second glance. having this conversation publicly, i also hope other people see it and think more critically about how real world settings can’t exist in an rp bubble. that being said, how much can you claim to welcome “suggestions” or “conversation” when you can’t even handle a potential member questioning the racial breakdown of your site? (before you say i’m being aggressive, i really truly mean this in a productive way. think about it. live with the discomfort.) i would ask you to take a hard look before pointing fingers with statements like this: “however, when coming at someone with a closed mind via the way the message we received was sent, it is not conductive for anyone and we will not participate in it.”

#unhxlyrp #rpc #jcink rp #rp #jcink #supernatural rp #text #andy speaks #important

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chelsfic · 5 years

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Trustfall Part 2 - August Walker/Reader - Mission: Impossible Fallout fanfic

Image: Stock image of multiple locks on a door beside an image of Henry Cavill with scruff and mustache and a curly lock of hair falling over his forehead. The Henry pic came up in a Google image search, but I think it should be credited to: @kinghenryviii-i-am

A/N: You’ll notice from some details (references to dollars, stores, elementary school) that this fic is set in the U.S., not in London. I felt it would be more authentic for me to write within my own frame of reference rather than try to manhandle English colloquialisms and such. You can think of it as AU. Or, I can just admit that I’m a bit lazy. Either way I really hope it doesn’t take you out of the plot.

P.S. I’ve never had a plan in my entire life. Somehow, this is the Home Depot episode of Trustfall. Enjoy!

Part One

***

You make up the guest room because that’s what you do when you have a guest. Never mind that the guest is a (former?) terrorist...a double agent and a traitor. Never mind that you don’t strictly want him here and he’s less of a guest and more of a...passive captor. Never mind all that. Making the bed with fresh sheets and putting out clean towels is what you do when you have...a guest.

“So...,” you gesture to the open doorway. The same doorway where you stood frozen, three weeks ago, while he pointed a gun at you. The memory rises like an unwanted specter before your eyes and you need to take a steadying breath before you can go on. “This will be your room. Th-there’s a bathroom attached. The linen closet is just across from you if you need more towels or blankets. I had an extra toothbrush so I put that on the sink for you….a-and the kitchen is downstairs just across from the living room if you g-get hungry…”

You’re rambling and this really is absurd. The bastard may be paying you but there is no reason you have to be nice to him. It’s like your brain is short-circuiting. You hate him for what he did to you and for making you feel scared in your own home. But you’ve never had it in you to seek out conflict when you find it so much simpler to take the high road and be able to live with yourself as a “nice person.” It’s a dysfunction. You should probably see a therapist about it. Or hit him. Maybe you should hit him.

In an effort to assert yourself you add, “And keep out of my room. And my office downstairs. I’m not agreeing to you having access to every inch of my personal space.”

The effort is somewhat diminished when you spy the unreadable, hard expression on his face and tack on a “please” to the end of your demand. Damn it.

“Of course,” Walker smiles and how can it be allowed for him to look so boyish and charming? He’s a criminal! “This is still your home, Y/N.”

You don’t know what to say to that. It sure doesn’t feel that way.

***

It’s amazing how quickly you can become accustomed to the most bizarre changes. Before you know it a week has passed. Walker...August...keeps to himself in his room. He’s gone out a few times, always at odd hours. Sometimes he’s not back yet when you wake up in the morning. But for the most part he’s just...there. All the time.

You’ve spent every night since he came here laying in bed with your hands fisted in the blankets and your eyes locked on your door. His room is just on the other side of your bedroom wall and you can sometimes hear the muffled noises of him moving around at night. So far he’s respected your request that he not invade your space more than necessary but that can’t last, can it? You find yourself mentally reliving those terrible moments. The cold apathy in his eyes as he stood over you. The false concern in his words before he pulled the trigger. Why would he say he was sorry? If he was sorry...if he’d cared he wouldn’t have done what he did.

In the mornings, you feel tired, wrung out. This can’t go on. You’re due back at work on Monday and you can’t teach a class of second graders on no sleep. Friday afternoon you drive to the hardware store and purchase a sliding lock kit for your bedroom door. August is in the kitchen when you get home. He watches you set your bag on the kitchen table and remove the contents.

You look up at him feeling absurdly guilty. You force yourself to square your jaw and look him in the eyes, “It’s for my bedroom...I can’t...I can’t sleep at night.”

August’s eyes flash with emotion before he carefully schools his features. He’s been trying to remain as unobtrusive as possible. For all he manipulated you into this situation he isn’t a sadist--he doesn’t want you to feel afraid. He just doesn’t know what he can possibly do to reassure you.

He nods sensibly and comes over to inspect your purchase. It’s a simple sliding lock like the kind you’d see on a public restroom stall. He picks up the package turning it over in his hands. He’s standing right next to you, looming, and you’re aware again of his massive presence. You can feel the heat of his body and you can smell the scent of him. He smells like fresh soap and gun oil. You’re suddenly aware that he’s wearing casual clothes, a t-shirt and jeans and thick, white socks. The outfit makes him seem so normal, so human. Without your permission you feel your body sway toward him like a mosquito flying toward an electrified lamp. Why are you attracted to something that can hurt you?

“Smart,” he remarks, setting down the package, “but this type of lock won’t do much to keep out someone who’s determined.”

“What?” you ask sharply with a look of suspicion. Surely he must realize the lock is meant to keep out *him.* From the apologetic look he flashes you, you can tell that he does know. So why is he telling you this?

“Why don’t we head back to the store and find something more heavy duty?” he suggests.

***

Walking through Home Depot with August Walker at your side pushing a big, orange shopping cart is surreal. There’s no way you can forget who you’re with either because he draws attention. He’s tall, muscled and striking; people’s eyes are drawn to him like magnets. You wonder how he ever got by working under cover.

He swings down aisle after aisle with a purposeful stride that leaves you nearly tripping over your crutches to keep up. When you reach the aisle with locks, doorknobs and other odds and ends he selects a heavy metal deadbolt from the wall display and tosses it into the cart.

He turns to you, looking doubtful, “Do you have a power drill at home?”

“Err...no,” you reply sheepishly.

He moves on: screws, drill, drill bits, a hole saw. Then he’s leading you to the back of the store and down an aisle lined with different style doors. You hook your hand into the crook of his elbow to slow him down.

“August!” you exclaim, practically out of breath trying to keep up with him. “I don’t need a new door.”

“Yes, you do,” he says simply and turns back to display. He selects a heavy steel door that looks more suitable for a jail cell than your bedroom.

“That’s hideous!” you snort, forgetting your anxiety and nerves.

August huffs out a laugh and shakes his head, “It’s secure.”

When the cashier rings everything up the total comes to over six hundred dollars. You widen your eyes and reach into your pocketbook with trepidation. You just don’t have that kind of extra money. August pulls out his wallet and hands over a stack of hundreds without batting an eye. You stare at him in shock and he just shakes his head as if it’s nothing. You are going to have a talk about household expenses.

***

You watch him hang the new door, greasing the hinges and testing the swing of it opening and closing. You’re perched on the end of your bed and he’s standing in the doorway wearing a tool belt and changing out the bit in his drill to start making the hole for the deadbolt. You let yourself enjoy this bizarre, peaceful moment. Watching him do home repair is so...oddly calming. August could be your handyman or...your husband.

But...he’s not, you remind yourself. No, this man is the reason you need a steel door installed in your bedroom in the first place. The reason you can’t sleep at night, the reason you have nightmares that cause you to wake up with tears in your eyes and a sob in your throat. You can’t--you cannot forget that.

August finishes up installing the lock and the doorknobs. He takes his time tightening the final screws and checking that the lock slides effortlessly into position. As he fiddles with these adjustments he watches you from the corner of his eyes. You’re seated on the bed with your good leg tucked underneath you, chin resting on your palm and paying attention to everything he’s doing. Your posture is looser than he’s seen it since his arrival and he feels a rush of warmth in his chest that he can’t identify.

All he knows is he hates seeing the flash of fear in your eyes every time he catches you unaware. He hates seeing how tired you are in the mornings. And he really, really hates the muffled sounds of sobs that come from your bedroom late at night. He wants you to feel safe again. He knows he robbed you of that feeling. When he came here a week ago it was with the calculating intention of taking advantage of the damage he’d done and forcing you into a position of being at his mercy. But since he’s been living with you and witnessing the consequences of everything he’s done all he feels is an unfamiliar guilt eating away at his stomach and making him feel like worse than vermin.

He swings the door closed and twists the lock into place with a satisfying click. He turns to you with a smile and a feeling of accomplishment that he hasn’t felt in a long time.

“There,” he says, twisting the lock again and opening the door so that you don’t feel trapped with him in your bedroom. “Now you’re safe.”

Tag List:

@thorins-queen-of-erebor @viking-raider @onceuponathreetwoone @angelic-kisses13 @afangirldaydreams

#august walker x reader #august walker imagine #henry cavill imagine #mission: impossible fanfic #chelsfic #henry cavill

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boratanical · 5 years

Text

graphics guide

a guide filled with basic info, tips, and answers to common questions that i hope helps people who want to start making graphics

*this was made based on my experiences of making graphics and is what i thought was important to cover but everyone has different ways and approaches so dont feel the need to follow everything on here

what is a graphic?

a graphic (also known as ‘gfx’) is a image edit that incorporates various elements (textures, filters, text, etc) in order to visualize a idea or to create a aesthetic composition

unlike making gifs, there is no right or proper way to make a graphic so dont get too caught up in the idea that a graphic should look a certain way - just stick with your style and what you think looks good

anatomy

image/subject

usually the main focus of the whole graphic

you should always try to use a sharp hd picture - getting it from the original source is always the best option

make sure the source of the picture allows editing - pictures from public sources like a company or the news can be edited while fansite pics and scans need to have permission asked (and if they give you permission make sure you link them when you post your graphic!)

coloring

often referred as ‘psd’ because that is the format they are in (i.e. pink psd pack)

comprise of multiple layers that can alter the images look

a lot of people make their own colorings since the outcome of the look also depends on the image’s original coloring

textures

smaller cut out images that are often used to decorate the graphic

can also refer to a image that can be use as a background of a graphic

can be found in the form of a png (copy + paste into graphic) or a brush (”painted” on to the graphic)

avoid using any textures that does not state the original poster made them - you could unintentionally be using someone’s work that was not made to be used [read more about it here + resources that you can actually use]

text

text can be used to tell information or just for decoration

try to choose fonts and colors that are legible

faq

what software can i use to make graphics

most people use some version of photoshop (i currently use photoshop cc 2018) and a lot people have it cracked but if you cant afford photoshop, find a cracked version or a patcher (i used adobe zii 3.0.4 for mac), or are uncomfortable with getting a cracked version then there are other softwares that are just as good!

i can only vouch for gimp since i used it when i first started making gfxs. it is very similar to photoshop and shares most of the same tools and has a similar look to photoshop. it is also probably the most popular photoshop alternative and would totally recommend it if you cant get photoshop!

[visit + download gimp here]

where do you get your pictures from

official sources such as teasers companies release, photos released by press, photos from idol’s instagram - basically photos that are made for the public to see are whats best to use for a gfx. you should download the photos straight from the source so you get it at its highest quality

some phrases you can use to search for pictures on google: - [group name] photoshoot - [idol name] press - [group name] showcase - [idol name] teaser

remember the more specific you are in your search the better! also when you search through google make sure you check your source!

avoid getting photos from reposting websites like we heart it and pinterest avoid using fansite pictures and scans unless you are granted permission

i don’t know where to start/i’m overwhelmed and i don’t know what to do/ where should i begin

figure out what you want to make or a theme you want to follow - do you want to make a simple graphic or a infographic? do you want it to center around a certain theme like a comeback or a photoshoot? once you determine what you want to do it becomes easier getting ideas and finding stuff you will need for the gfx

example thought process: “i want to make a loona graphic” → do you want it to be the whole group or a certain member or unit? will it just be a simple gfx or a AU gfx or based on a event that the group is doing? “i’ve decided on doing a kim lip one” → do you want it to have a certain theme like kim lip smiling or kim lip with blonde hair? is there a certain frame of time in which you want the graphic to represent like during eclipse era or hi high era? “i want it to be from max and match era with her teasers” → from here you can start finding pictures to use and thinking of colors and textures that would fit your theme

where do you get ideas/inspiration from

i mean it’s different for everyone but for me i literally just think of stuff and i’m like wow i want to make that happen asdfsdfj but mostly when i see pictures or watch something thats where i suddenly get a idea

but tumblr is full of graphic makers!!! ive seen so many amazing graphics from various fandoms like kpop, anime, marvel, etc.

some amazing graphic editors i know myself include: primirene, ireone, nctjaemin, celo-mar, 1hyungseo, jeongahn, haechxnie, sonxiumin, syua, lulumelody, dinomite, lovelyeo, joohys, whatchatalkabout, yveu, maerinah, mihyon, lorbits, cherryjennie, thatporcelain, monoka, ifbin, 7ww

some other places you can look at are behance (dont go on behance if you have a cracked ver of ps - it might trigger a ingenue software alert that is a huge pain to deal with), pinterest, deviantart, dribble, and probably any social media platform if you just look up #graphicdesign

remember if you take inspiration from someone’s work then you should cite them in your caption - if you are afraid that you might’ve accidentally copied someone when you were trying to take inspiration from them its best to either try to remake the gfx again or just to ask the creator permission if its fine if certain details are similar/same

my stuff sucks how do i get better

literally just keep on making stuff aka practice. you can’t improve if you don’t bother putting effort.

ways i’ve forced myself into practicing making gfxs is by: 1) starting a gfxs series - its self paced and is based on what you want to make (i.e. introducing my biases gfx series, my favorite outfits gfx series, etc) 2) taking in requests - people who would request from you probably like your stuff so its a win win situation (i.e. send me a idol + era, send me your bias + palette, send me a group and i’ll make a gfx of my fav member, etc)

tips

only sharpen your pictures after you are done resizing them, if you sharpen and then resize it might result in a more blurry or grainy picture

always save your graphic every 5-10 mins in case photoshop crashes

have two copies of your image cutout: one will be the original and the other one will be the one you edit with - in case you mess up like over erasing or over sharpening your image you have a back up you can use

stick with a color palette so you don’t get overwhelmed when having to color everything and it makes all the graphic panels you have look more cohesive

on photoshop you can favorite fonts!!! take advantage of it!!! your computer has a lot of fonts saved on it and it takes forever to look through a whole list of fonts so by favoring fonts you can see all of the fonts that you like to use for graphics

combine a png pack to one psd → when you open a png pack you will probably get a lot of png files and it gets annoying having a lot of tabs open in photoshop when most of them are just textures so by putting all of those pngs into one psd you can cut down the files you open and can easily see all of your options

make folders dedicated to colorings and textures that way you can easily access them instead of looking through your computer for a certain file

name your layers... i dont do it because its easy for me to tell what layer is what but when you are working with a lot of layers its best just to name them it’ll make life easier

lock your main image/subject so that when you play with texts’ and textures’ location you don’t accidentally move your main image

use curves to help get a photo back to its original coloring! like if you have a photo that has a weird filter on it just use curves and it’ll help the picture look more natural! [tutorial]

try warping your text to make it stand out more! you can access it by pressing the icon on the top text bar that has a T with a curved line under it. i use flag and wave the most

alter a particular color by using a selective color layer

rather than changing the actual color of an image/texture you can: create new layer → select the image/texture and color it on the new layer instead of on top of the image/texture → change the opacity or the mode of the layer so that the color is put on the image/texture while keeping its detailing and not affecting the actual image/texture

resources

colorings: can be found on deviantart or tumblr just look up ‘psd coloring’ or ‘[color] psd’

textures: can be found on deviantart (check to see if its og content or stolen) simply just search what you are trying to find or ‘png pack’ or ‘texture pack’ common textures you can try to find: vintage flowers, memphis shapes, organic shapes, doodles other wesbites: pngtree, creative market, lost and taken, spoongraphics

fonts: if you are looking for a certain font then you can just do a google search but if you are browsing then dafont and font squirrel are really good websites too some of my favorite fonts: abril fatface, agfatumc, antonellie calligraphy, arcadeclassic, bebas neue, century gothic, couture, daily news 1915, dark larch, hondurhas, kotori rose, krinkles, risingstar, sant joan despi, studly, zing rust

color palettes: i made one myself which you can find here, color hunt, and honestly a quick google search will give you tons of options

if you have any questions, other stuff you want me to cover, or want to add more resources and tips then please dm or send an ask! i hope this helps!

#i really hope this helps someone and that it makes sense #i literally woudlve been so happy if i saw this when i first started it took me so long to figure things out and im still learning #also i basically told where i got everything so like please dont take advantage of this and end up copying my gfxs... its happened to me a #lot #idk what to properly tag this alfkjasd #ps help

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blackfreethinkers · 4 years

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By Elie Mystal

This Saturday, September 12, 2020, still image taken from video released by the Los Angeles County Sheriff's Department shows Los Angeles Sheriff Alex Villanueva taking questions at a late-night news conference about the condition of two sheriff's deputies in Compton, Calif. (Los Angeles County Sheriff's Department via AP)

Video released over the weekend captures an unknown assailant firing indiscriminately into a police cruiser in an attempt to murder the two Los Angeles County sheriff’s deputies sitting inside. Thankfully, the officers appear to have survived the attempt on their lives. A manhunt is underway for the suspect, and police have offered a $100,000 reward for information leading to his capture.

As I sit down to write this, it is tempting to give in to my complete disgust with how the police usually frame and the media then cover a more common situation—police shootings of unarmed Black people—by offering some of my own “just presenting both sides” coverage. When a cop fires indiscriminately into a car, killing a man as his girlfriend sits beside him and her baby in the back seat—which is precisely what happened to Philando Castile—the media bends over backward to present the murderer’s side of the story. There’s no manhunt; the killer is allowed to turn himself in peacefully, at his convenience. Later, he gets cleared of all charges. The cops who kill us almost always go free.

I could write that piece, but I’m not going to, because, while such a piece would be righteous and justified, it would also be wrong. I hope they catch the guy seen in the video shooting those cops, I really do. I hope they take him alive and that he stands trial for his suspected crimes. I’d rather not use the attempted murder of two police officers as a Matthew McConaughey opportunity to say, “Now imagine the shooter was white.”

I just wish that the rest of the media could restrain itself from turning the attempted murder of police officers into an indictment of the protests against the police who murder Black people. As it is, the police stenographers employed by many mainstream media outlets are falling into that trap. Reporters are already republishing police narratives about why the shooting happened, without verifying the police stories or calling police speculation about why the shooting took place just that: speculation, in the absence of any evidence.

In the immediate aftermath of the shooting, the official Los Angeles County Sheriff’s Department Twitter account tweeted out the following: “To the protesters blocking the entrance & exit of the HOSPITAL EMERGENCY ROOM yelling ‘We hope they die’ referring to 2 LA Sheriff’s ambushed today in #Compton: DO NOT BLOCK EMERGENCY ENTRIES & EXITS TO THE HOSPITAL. People’s lives are at stake when ambulances can’t get through.”

That tweet gave the impression that some kind of street uprising had sprung up at the hospital, and that the many people clearly involved had attempted in some way to deny injured police officers medical care. The narrative that protesters “blocked” the hospital entrance was then picked up by the press, so I heard MSNBC’s Hallie Jackson repeating it on her show when I turned on the television Monday morning.

After hearing the charge, I went to the Internet to look for the video of this alleged protest. Here is what the LA County sheriffs were apparently talking about. As you can see in the video, the “protest” appears to be about four guys hovering around the emergency entrance, shouting invectives. It wasn’t a protest, and they weren’t preventing any medical vehicles from entering or exiting the hospital. It was a few people who gave into the justified-yet-wrong anger I myself overcame this morning through the grace of coffee and the backspace key.

To call this group of individuals “protesters who blocked the entrance,” as the police did, is misleading at best. To repeat the disinformation, as journalists did, simply because it was on a police Twitter account, is bad journalism.

As the police were arresting one of the men shouting at the cops, an NPR radio reporter, Josie Huang, stepped forward to get a better look. Police tackled and injured her. Police claimed that Huang didn’t identify herself as a reporter and refused to leave the area when asked. Over the weekend, the media again reflexively reprinted this police narrative.

Then Huang released her own video of the event. It shows that she immediately “backed up” when told to do so and identified herself as a reporter even as police were throwing her to the ground.

Reporters who reprint or rebroadcast the official story for why police tackled a reporter, without first talking to the reporter tackled, deserve to be tackled by other, better reporters.

As nearly every Black person has been trying to tell the media since the invention of “police”: Cops lie. They lie, mislead, or issue untruthful statements all the time. White journalists must stop repeating police lies, uncritically, without demanding evidence to back up police claims or even doing a bare-minimum Google search to see if there is video that directly contradicts police statements.

Skepticism of police statements should be a basic requirement of competent journalism, but it is particularly critical in times like this, when police have a reason to lie. The police are angry at the attempted murder of two officers, and they want other people to be angry, so they are not even trying to provide an accurate account of events. Instead, they are trying to build a case against Black Lives Matter.

Los Angeles County Sheriff Alex Villanueva (whose office tweeted out the misleading story about “protesters” at the hospital) could barely contain his contempt for BLM protesters in his statement about the shooting. “This is just a somber reminder that this is a dangerous job, and actions and words have consequences. Our job does not get any easier because people do not like law enforcement,” Villanueva said. “It pisses me off. It dismays me at the same time.”

In this statement, Villanueva is trying to draw a direct line between the “actions and words” of protesters to the attempted murder of police officers. He seems less interested in drawing a line from police brutality and the murder of Black people to the attempted murder of police officers.

The reality is that we don’t know why the suspect tried to kill those two officers, but we can see with our own eyes that his actions were wrong and dangerously misguided. Speculation into his motives is irresponsible absent evidence. It’s wrong for journalists to speculate, and it’s wrong for journalists to repeat the unverified, potentially unhinged speculations of the LA County sheriff without any evidence whatsoever.

It’s not like the social justice organization ambushed two police officers in a parked car. It’s not like social justice organizations have a history of targeting police officers for murder. But the person who did target and ambush police officers appears to be Black and thus, apparently, it’s all our faults. That’s how racial profiling works, don’t you know.

So the police already have their villain, and they are enacting their retribution. On Sunday, LA County sheriff’s deputies shut down a “protest encampment” across from LA City Hall. The holdouts had been there for months, living peacefully, but cops cleared it mere hours after the shooting. Cops claim it was taken down because of “deteriorating conditions,” but nobody is required to be addled enough to believe them.

The inability and unwillingness of the media to accurately report on police lies and sensationalism will have the effect of excusing additional acts of police brutality. The police will point to the one guy who shot police officers (for reasons not yet known) and the one dude who shouted “I hope y’all die” as justification for cops to go out on the street tonight and violate the constitutional rights of Black people, or beat Black people, or kill Black people. And by refusing to call out police hysteria, the media will make that hysteria seem reasonable.

Given the stakes, it’s not too much to ask the media to do its job. It’s not too much to ask journalists to act like journalists instead of stenographers. If I can restrain myself from being a snarky, irresponsible axe-grinder when it comes to “blue lives,” it’s not too much to ask mainstream sources to think before retweeting or republishing the latest round of blue lies.

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38sr · 6 years

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can you explain how to do animations on csp? or do you know any good tutorials on how it works? im a bit confused

Animation in CSP can be a bit confusing (and daunting) since it’s nothing like Animate CC, Photoshop or ToonBoom. It’s pretty much has it’s own interface and quirks so it’s gonna take a while before you get use to it and start customizing it to your liking.

I don’t really know much about tutorials since I’ve learned everything on my own as well as finding very few books explaining CSP animation. Unfortunately, those books are only in Japanese and my skills aren’t at a level where I could fully translate everything. Though, I’m sure you can easily find some tutorials by a simple Google search.

Since you asked, I’ll just show you how I go about animating in CSP and set up my files such (if that’s okay and helps you).

Document Setup

So, when you open CSP you go to the Animation section and plug-in what dimensions and resolution you want. I normally use 1920x1080 (that’s standard for most video and TV) with 1200dpi. You don’t have these specific numbers though.

Once the document is set and ready you have your canvas and all that jazz. This is my workspace setup for both illustration and animation.

Red - Canvas

Pink - Timeline

Blue - Color Set

Green - Auto Actions

Orange - Layers

Color sets and auto actions are great to cut down on time for coloring and clean-up. However, I’m still learning Auto Actions myself so I can’t give a full explanation on how to use them. But really, you don’t really need Auto Actions unless you’re doing some serious clean-up and color work. Color Sets can be downloaded ) for free through CLIP Assets. If you search animation on Assets, it should pop up with no issue.

CSP actually updated today, so, the timeline tool bar has changed quite a bit.

Red (from left to right) - New Animation Folder, New Animation Cel, Specify Cel, Delete Specified Cel

Blue - Onion Skin (allows you to see previous and next frame simultaneously while animating)

Green (from left to right) - Edit Timeline, New Timeline

Pink - Brand new Camera feature (I’m learning this one too)

Making Cels in Layers Window

When you create an animation folder (through the Timeline tool bar), you can also add cels by pressing the new layer icon (highlighted in red above). Make sure you’ve selected the animation folder beforehand or else it won’t some up on the timeline.

Animating on the Timeline

One long rectangular box on the timeline represents 1 frame of animation. So, 2 boxes equals 2 frames of animation, 3 boxes equal 3 frames, etc, etc. Personally, I always make my key animation frames on 4s (4 frames) since it just has a steady movement. Once I finish the key frame animation, that’s when I start messing around with the timing like above.

Blue - 3s

Green - 4s

Pink - 2s

Red - 1s

This part comes with a lot of tests, meaning I export a ton of gifs to see which timing I like best. Once you get the hang of it, it’ll start to feel like secondhand nature.

Layering Key Frame Animation

I love layers. I love to abuse layers so much. It’s just much easier to organize everything when using layers. In fact, the technique is regularly used in anime to cut production cost and time. You ever wonder how anime characters can talk but only their jaw moves while everything stays? Layers. There’s one layer where they only animate the jaw moving while there’s a secondary layer that’s essentially a still image. For this section, we’ll use my She-Ra animation as reference.

If you look at the upper left corner, you’ll see a bunch a circles with scribbles like A1, A2, B5, C3, etc written. These are different layers I made for the animation. A is drawn in black for She-Ra’s body, B is drawn in yellow for her hair and C is drawn in red for the lighting effect of her sword (another Japanese animation technique). By working in layers, I can make edits faster and easier. Also, this method is really helpful for overlapping action (i.e. She-Ra’s hair). It would be such a pain to have it all on one layer and trying to avoid finished line work (or worse having to redo it all). Below is how this animation is layer:

Red - A (Body)

Blue - B (Hair)

Green - C (Lighting Effect)

Pink - Blue shadow (this is a guide for if I ever wanted to bring this piece into color)

Another application of this layered animation is my recent Owl House piece below.

Within the animation folder, you can create a sub folder that can contain multiple layers at once. The cool thing about this is that the sub folder ends up acting like an animation key frame. Take note below how the sub folder has layers that break up the characters into its essential parts (C folder was Eda so it was one for her body, one for hair, one for earrings and one for her skirt). Again, super helpful when you have stationary animation (like a lip sync or eye blink). Or, for looped animations like this where you can reuse frames.

Camera

So as I’ve stated before, this camera feature is new so I don’t have much information or notes on it yet. To create a camera in CSP you go to the Animation tab > New Animation Folder > 2D Camera Layer.

To enable the camera function, you need to select the animation folders that you’re going to use and press this icon (highlighted in red) on the Timeline toolbar.

Once that’s done, those animation folders will have a lock icon appear next to them (highlighted in blue). Make sure to put the desired animation folders into the Camera folder (highlighted in red) or else the effect won’t show up. Here’s the same She-Ra animation but with the camera effect applied:

There’s so much I still need to learn about this function but overall it’s pretty cool so far. Maybe in the future I’ll do a more in depth tutorial about CSP animation since the program is up and coming in the animation industry. But until then, I hope you found this helpful!

#animation #digital animation #csp animation #clip studio paint #ask #send me asks #send me anons #txt

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spnfanficpond · 5 years

Text

October 2019 Pond LiveChat Recap

We had a great time chatting with @evansrogerskitten tonight! Thank you so much for joining us and sharing your wisdom!

Today, we got together and talked about writing smut! We discussed the legalities around sharing smut on the internet, vocabulary choices, created a spreadsheet of terms we can all share and use, and encouraged each other to not be afraid to just write. A rundown of the chat, as well as general Pond news, is below the cut. Due to the nature of the chat, there may be some parts of this recap that might be considered NSFW.

To start us off, @mrswhozeewhatsiswrites shared some research into the legalities of posting erotica on the internet as it relates to minors. (We are not legal experts. This information was obtained through Google searches. If anyone can provide links to sources that contradict these, we will add them to this post to ensure the most correct information is provided here.)

Michelle: To try and keep it short and sweet, from everything I read, if a minor reads smut online, it's not the writer's, poster's, or web site's responsibility to keep it from them. It is the parent's, or the school's/library's responsibility. (Basically, whoever is providing the internet connection to the minor is responsible for filtering out content that might be harmful to that minor, not the parties creating or disseminating that content online.) Schools and libraries and other institutions that get government funds are usually required to have some sort of filter in place to prevent minors from accessing porn and erotica.

What makes this so difficult to research is that written erotica is not mentioned very often in obscenity laws. Most laws focus on images or videos, not the written word.

No matter what it is, though, to be prosecuted under obscenity laws, the material must first be ruled to be obscene. Legally, there is a difference between obscenity and erotica. Obscenity is generally illegal, and erotica is protected speech. There are many different sets of rules and guidelines that have been used to determine if something is considered obscene or not. The most widely used current set of guidelines is the Miller test. From my research, most (if not all) erotic fan fiction would not be considered obscene because of its ‘literary, artistic, political, or scientific value’.

Some interesting links in relation to this subject that go into detail:

Wikipedia - US Obscenity Law - About halfway down, there is a section on non image-based obscenity cases in the US. The first part of this section, which deals with the written word, is very enlightening about the differences between obscenity and erotica. Further down is a section about criticism of the laws which shows some of the gaps in the law where free speech lives. Continuing on, the section about censorship in schools and libraries explains the part CIPA (Children’s Internet Protection Act) plays in protecting minors from material that could be considered harmful to them.

Online Art Rights - Sexual Content - This site details the many attempts at limiting indecent material on the internet through the years. (Scroll down and click on the plus signs in the black bars to expand each section.) In each case cited, the court ruled that to ban all objectionable material would interfere with free speech because it would reduce all content to a level appropriate for children. They also concluded that since less restrictive means exist, such as user-controlled filters and the like, those tools can be used without reducing all discourse on the internet. The section on Child Pornography at the bottom might be of interest to anyone who writes Weecest smut, though.

The only possible exception that I think would affect the SPN fandom would be those who write Weecest smut. Child pornography seems to be the exception to every rule that protects free speech. Where every other depiction of a sex act might have a ‘but’ that makes it erotica (and therefore legal) instead of obscenity, child pornography in any medium is considered obscenity. Anything that even just looks like child porn is considered child porn, even if no children were a part of the making of it. This includes cartoons and CGI and adults made up to look like kids. If it’s advertised as children in a sexual situation, it’s child porn. So, I imagine it could extend to written erotica IF someone were to decide to push it.

Now, that’s a huge if. Someone would have to read it, object to it, and insist on prosecution for it. I think if that were going to happen, given 15 years of SPN fan fiction, it would have happened by now. But I would still keep my Weecest smut-free, or implied, or at least over the age of consent (which varies, so 18 is just easiest to use).

Also, AO3 complies with the laws regarding filtering for minors. If you do not have an account, you are required to click through a step that tells you that you are about to view something explicit. That's really all that sites and such are required to do. Hence, Tumblr making you click through and view on dash blogs they mark as explicit.

@emilyshurley I think there might also be a sorta solution just to play it safe. I saw that people who make mods for games like Sims 4 and stuff have a page for terms of download. What that is is that if you click their masterlist it will take you to a post where they list their conditions and have the words "I agree" and link the actual masterlist to that. Now this might take a little effort but we could add something similar before our masterlists.

This is all legal stuff, not site-specific rules. Each site can implement their own decency rules and enforce them how they see fit. For example, Tumblr, as a company, can decide to delete your blog. (They’ve stopped doing this since The Purge, now just marking each blog explicit and making you click on a couple things to get to those blogs they deem explicit.) Should they choose to do this, it does not mean that you’re in trouble with the law.

Now, onto the fun stuff!

Q: What is the first thing you think of when someone asks you for advice about writing smut?

Ash: Word choice- don't make the reader cringe. It's easy to fall into that because smut can be graceful and tasteful if it's done right. And that starts with thinking through word choice and how the scene is flowing. It's not easy to write smut! I think a lot of non-writer readers do not realize that.

Note: During the chat, we created a Google Sheets spreadsheet, with two sheets in it, with lists of words to use to refer to different things when you’re writing smut. The first sheet is Good Words, and the second sheet is Bad Words. Everyone can enter words they like and don’t like on both sheets, and we’ll crowd-source this problem! Check it out and add your favorites!

Michelle: A smut scene takes ten times as long for me to write as anything else. Just keeping track of limbs is difficult! And clothing....sometimes, I just make them dry hump so I don't have to deal with removing all the clothing! Other times, it's just, "Somehow, you suddenly found yourself naked." Like, there's a million great ways to get characters naked, but if I'm tired, angels snap.

@fictionalabyss (Mel): I've read stuff where a position makes no sense and it ruins the whole thing for me. Michelle: I actually bought a couple of those posable dolls from IKEA. (IKEA - GESTALTA, Artist’s figure) @babypieandwhiskey (Cam): I’ll have to use my daughter’s old Barbie dolls! I can keep track of both limbs and clothing!

Q: Ash, what are a few of the words that turn you off when you're reading smut?

Ash: It's usually words that sound so "romance novel"-ish to me. So "turgid member" is a good example. Please no one ever write that. Mel: Sometimes, keeping it simple is the safest and best bet. Ash: Absolutely, Mel! Sometimes we don't need all the extra words if we're showing the heat that's already there between them.

[What followed was a long discussion of various terms you definitely should not use in serious smut. They’ve all been added to the spreadsheet linked above, so fee free to check it out.]

Michelle: EVERYONE has those words that squick them, and it's damn near impossible to write a smut scene that doesn't include a word that will squick someone out there. So, don't stress about what words you do or don't use, cuz there's always gonna be someone out there who doesn't like something. Just make sure YOU think what you're writing is hot. If you don't get warm under the collar from it, no one else will, either. Ash: I highly recommend everyone is reading their fics out loud to see how it all flows. You'll catch errors and weird words there too.

Q: Ash, how do you get in the frame of mind to write something you personally have never experienced? For example, certain kinks.

Ash: Whiskey? LOL No, I do a lot of research- google, porn, erotica. Trying something out in person helps too! But we're writing fiction. You can make a kink work for your scenario too.I mean, I've written a reader squirting after 5 minutes to move things along but we all know it takes longer usually. And that's the fun! I've never actually been with 2 dudes but I f-ing love writing it. @atc74 (Angelina): I've always said I don't need to kill someone to write a murder scene. Ash: Smut is all about having an open mind. It lets us and the readers be someone else.

Question submitted earlier by @erins-culinary-service: I've wanted to try writing smut but never known exactly how to start and what words to use to describe everything. I've had sex so I know the sensations, positions, etc I'm just not sure how to write it all down any advice?

Ash: So sometimes I can't just start from "they kissed..." I start wherever I can see it best. So is it oral sex, or already doing it, I just jump in. And then I come back and fill it in. And I just write, no stopping once I get going. So the "cock into her hole" can be fixed later on my next edit. I just gotta get the idea out and then go back and make it hot. My smut is never hot in my first draft. Michelle: I think that's what stops a lot of writers, is thinking they have to publish their first draft. Editing is totally a thing. Just get the ideas on paper, and then make them hot later. Ash: Oh yeah, I go through at least 3 drafts per fic. Plus my beta version. Yeah, no one is ever going to see your drafts so don't worry about starting somewhere, anywhere. Michelle: And remember, practice practice practice - As with any writing, the more you write it, the easier it becomes. I wrote Third Wheel as a way to challenge myself with writing smut. Do a kink bingo or alphabet challenge. Just remember, you’re gonna write crap at the start, but crap makes good compost. Ash: Taking some time between edits is important too. It'll help you see different ways, AND you'll start having breakthroughs during the time away. Bingos are a great challenge that will help a writer grow. Cam: Writing smut is like sex, you're first time is going to be awkward and things won't be perfect, but with practice it gets better. Mel: I have a series that shows even the millionth time having sex isn't perfect and can be all laughs 🤣. But yeah.

Question submitted earlier by @focusonspn: i wanted to know about ways and words to describe orgasms and how to approach the moment after it without being awkward or forced. some people say those are the easiest things to write, but somehow i always have a hard moment trying to write them.

Ash: Hmmmm, as for the moments after- that's understandable, it is hard because its a transition. I think it's doesn't have to be an extended part of it- unless they're about to have a talk or aftercare needs a scene, it can be as simple as "we drifted off to sleep." Michelle: As always, my advice is to read smut that other people write that you like, and take note of what they do. Mel: Someone can get up and get dressed and leave. They can play in the fluids. They can lay there catching their breaths for a moment. It can be simple. Sometimes it doesn't need a flourish and that flourish can make it seem forced. Michelle: I think it depends on what type of smut fic you're writing. Is it fluffy smut where they're all in LOVE and kissy and stuff? Or is it Soulless Sam and Demon Dean just getting down and dirty and claiming you for themselves? Or, Soulless Sam or Demon Dean just getting their rocks off and they don't give a shit? @emilyshurley (Emily): Also this might be my f*cked up brain but I think if someone is not comfortable with a lot of fluffy buildup to smut trying soulless!Sam or Demon!Dean could be a great start. You also have a little room to do a little out of character. Michelle: We are blessed with a world that includes all types of characters and all types of situations, from curses (sex pollen, love potions, etc) to supernatural beings, to inspire and give us chances to write all kinds of smut. There are no limits to what you can do in Supernatural, so there are no limits to what we can write. Ash: Yeah we can really make most kinks work in some way in the SPN worlds. Emily: Also again with going out of character I read a captain America fic where it could have been a little out of character how he jumped straight to sex (someone commented that) but sex pollen made it work. So basically these tropes/kinks can also be good devices for writing NSFW fics to if you struggle to get the characters write in the beginning.

Other links mentioned:

Emily: I saw this advice list on Tumblr, so thought I should share it: List of Smut Writing Guides

Ash: This one, too: @smut-101′s Smut Tips Masterlist

And last, but definitely not least...

Ash: Always, always, always write for you. Readers come and go but you have to be satisfied and proud of what you've written. And everyone should get so much credit for trying to write smut. It's difficult but its does get easier and more fun with practice!

General Pond Updates and Reminders

What we’ve got cooking up next: Not much, at the moment, since everyone is busy, so we’re just trying to keep up with the day-to-day at the moment! Our to do list is still long, though, and will not be neglected forever!

Reminders:

Angel Fish Award nominations are accepted all month long! No need to wait to tell us how much you liked a fellow Fish’s work! IF YOU HAVE SENT IN A NOMINATION, BUT HAVE NOT RECEIVED A PRIVATE MESSAGE CONFIRMING WE RECEIVED IT, WE DIDN’T GET IT. Be sure to use Submit instead of Ask!

Don’t forget to submit your stories to be posted to the blog! When your stories are on the blog, then they are easier to nominate for Angel Fish Awards!

Say hi to September’s New Members!

Check the Pond CALENDAR to see when Big Fish will be in the Skype chat room/discord general channel and other Pond and SPN events are happening! Know of something that’s not on the calendar, send us an ask or submission with the deets info details! The calendar offers a lot of features, such as showing you when things are in your own timezone! Since we’re an international group, that’s a definite plus!!

We don’t have a topic or speaker set up for November’s event, yet, so if there’s something you want to talk about, or someone you want to talk to, LET US KNOW!

#spnfanficpond live chat #chat room #let's chat #pond chat #THE CHAT ROOM #chat recap #smut #vocabulary

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crystalninjaphoenix · 5 years

Text

Chaos Theory

Part Four

(One boy has been found! Now what about the others? More puzzles to solve.)

If anyone was walking through the streets of the historic section of the city at 1:40am, they would’ve been surprised to see the two men sitting on the curb, staring intently at the blue screen of a laptop. Jackie had the computer carefully balanced on his knees, JJ leaning on his shoulder as he watched. “And add to the list of things this guy knows about me,” Jackie muttered. “My freaking email! Yaaaay.”

That is a bit disturbing, JJ signed, frowning. How could he know all this?

“Look, as someone who’s hacked before, I can tell you that very little on the Internet is entirely secure.” Jackie opened his email, immediately noticing a message from an email address: [email protected]. “But still, this guy must have some crazy skills. I’m starting to think he supplemented any cyber stalking with regular stalking. You know, following us around. Maybe placing spy cameras in hidden locations.” He clicked on the email he’d received, opening it to see it was completely blank, except for an attached zip folder called “Set 2.”

That seems a tad excessive, doesn’t it? JJ asked, but he stopped, reconsidering. Well, actually, this entire idea is excessive. If he wanted to go after you, he didn’t need to invent this entire twisted game.

“That’s true. But some people just like to fuck with others.” Jackie downloaded the zip file, then found it in the laptop’s Downloads folder and unzipped it. “What worries me is that I’ve never even heard of this guy...”

The “Set 2″ zip folder had just one file inside: 2.png. Frowning, Jackie clicked on it. What popped up was a black-and-white image of a staff, with wings sprouting from the top, two snakes twining around its length. “Oh! This, this! That’s a...uh..” Jackie bit his nails a bit, thinking.

JJ looked at him, then finger-spelled a word. C-A-D-U-C-E-U-S.

“Yes! Caduceus!” Jackie shook his head. “Man, my brain is all over tonight. More than usual.” He took a deep breath. “You know what this is? It’s a medical symbol. Henrik has a sweater with a caduceus on it, Jack got him it for his birthday one year.” Guess they now knew who the second set of puzzles was for.

Focus, Jackie, JJ implored. But is this all there is? I don’t understand what this could be pointing to, other than...who’s next.

“Well, with your puzzle I had to play around with editing an audio file.” Jackie closed the image and opened the laptop’s photo editor. “Might as well start doing the same for this picture. I mean, obviously not audio editing, but you know.”

The very first thing Jackie did when opening up the editor was click on the brightness slider and slide it all the way to the brightest setting. And words immediately appeared in the previously black area of the caduceus’s staff. Jackie leaned closer, tilting his head to the side. “ ‘Follow the skulls’...” he read out loud. His brows furrowed. “Well that means nothing.”

JJ waved his hand in front of Jackie’s face to get his attention, then signed, Perhaps it relates to some clues in the city around us?

“Maybe. But I don’t have any idea what that could be referring to.” Jackie tapped his fingers against the laptop’s edge. After a moment, he started playing around with more sliders on the editing program. After turning up the contrast, something else appeared. “Whoa, hey, what are these?”

A string of figures were now wrapping around the edges of the picture. Small words in the top left corner said “Start here.”

It must be some kind of code, right? JJ asked. They’re numbers, but they go too high to be a simple alphabet substitution.

“Yeah, but there are letters too.” Jackie began reading the string out loud. “68 74 74 70 73 3a 2f 2f...I have no idea what this is. But I guess that’s what Google is for.” He opened up the website, plugging ‘cipher decoder’ into the search bar. An overwhelming amount of results popped up. He blinked. “I...I don’t even know where to start.”

Trial and error? JJ suggested.

Jackie’s face fell, a gray cloud falling over his expression. His eyes darted to the small clock in the corner of the laptop.

Perhaps there is one that could identify the cipher when you type it in? JJ suggested. But other than that, we don’t really have much of an option.

“...you’re right. You’re right.” Jackie took a deep breath. And another. “Okay, let’s start.”

It took five minutes to find a decoder that gave them something recognizable after plugging in the code from the picture. It turned out to be a url for a YouTube video, which Jackie immediately typed into a new tab.

“Oh! Uh, there’s earbuds.” Jackie handed one of the buds to JJ. “We can listen together. I know we could just take out the earbuds and listen with the laptop speakers, but just in case...” Just in case of what? He wasn’t sure. But JJ took the earbud anyway, awkwardly putting it in.

Jackie didn’t know what he was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t...this. He physically leaned backwards at the sound of the intro: “Yo, what’s up guys? I’m Chase, and welcome to Bro Average!” He had to pause it for a moment, just to bask in the confusion. “I-I thought...” he said slowly. “Was...was I wrong about who...?”

JJ looked confused as well. Perhaps it’s both of them?

“But there are four sets? I-I don’t...?” Jackie shook his head. “Nevermind, it’ll make sense later, once we actually get to them. Because we’re going to. In time.” Jackie laughed. JJ gave him a concerned look that he waved away. “I-I’m fine, let’s just...see if there are any clues here." He pressed play.

It looked like any other video by Chase. In fact, Jackie thought he’d seen it before. It followed the same format at first. The music, the shots of Chase hanging out, the attempts at trickshots that always failed at first. Chase once said he liked to include the fails so the viewers would know he’s no better at these than anyone else, and that anyone could do the tricks if they tried. But then—

What was that? JJ signed quickly.

“I don’t know.” Jackie paused the video. He used the arrow keys to go back, but when that failed to pick anything up, he resorted to using the comma and period keys on the keyboard to go frame by frame. Until he finally managed to capture the image that had popped up for a split second: A hollow red circle, divided into fourths, with a red skull in the center. There were also a few strange dots and dashes along the bottom.

Am I correct in assuming Chase didn’t originally have those in his video? JJ asked. But then, how did that get there? Is it possible to put images in a video on the web?

“No, but...” Jackie tapped the screen. “This is on a different channel.” Indeed, instead of Chase’s BroAverage channel at the bottom of the video, the channel name was a string of numbers with a few letters that looked similar to the encoded url that had been hidden in the .png of the caduceus. “That means the video could’ve been downloaded, then edited and reuploaded. There could be more of these...actually, there probably are. The image said ‘follow the skulls,’ I bet it meant ones in here.” He frowned. “What are these dashes? Morse code?”

JJ nodded in agreement.

“Well, great, guess we’re going to have to write these down and find another decoder—”

Jackie. JJ raised an eyebrow. I know Morse code.

“You do?” Jackie blinked. “I didn’t know that. Since when?”

Since... JJ paused. 1923, I believe.

“Oh. Okay. Well, that saves us some time. Here, I’ll just open up Notepad and write down the code on this image, then we can see if there are more images sneaked into the video.”

There were. Five more times, the image of the red skull appeared, each time accompanied by more Morse code. Jackie copied the code into a page on Notepad, and once he was sure there was nothing else hidden in the video, he passed the laptop to JJ. JJ glared at the code, then slowly began the process of translating. Jackie looked around the dark city while he worked, legs bouncing. The city was always empty at night, but it seemed even quieter than normal. He didn’t like it.

What if the gamemaster was somewhere in the darkness right now? He said he’d be watching. How? What if he was following them? Or were there cameras, invisible eyes, dangling in the shadows? Making sure they didn’t break the rules and get help? What time was it? How much was left? Though he didn’t want to, Jackie began wondering what would happen if he failed. He knew the basics, of course, he’d never see the others again. But what would happen to them? Would it end with something as simple as a gunshot? Or would it last longer? Maybe they wouldn’t be killed at all, maybe they’d vanish into a worse fate—

JJ tapped Jackie’s arm, and Jackie yelped. JJ sharply withdrew his hand, then asked, Are you alright?

“Y-yeah, I-I just was, um...thinking. You startled me. Are you done?”

JJ clearly didn’t think Jackie was actually alright, but he nodded. I’ve finished. I believe it’s an address.

“Here, lemme see.” Jackie scooted closer. It was indeed a simple address. “Spiralnest Street...that’s in the north part of the city. It...it’s dangerous there.”

Well, we don’t have much of a choice, do we? JJ signed, sighing.

“No. No, we don’t. We’re going to have to be quick, and hope we don’t attract any attention.” Jackie closed his eyes, preparing himself, then opened them again. “We can’t take public transportation, nothing runs this late at night. Neither of us can drive, and even if we could, we don’t have a car. How fast can you run?”

JJ bit his lip. Not as fast as I would like.

Jackie looked at the time on the laptop. He watched the numbers change from 1:56 to 1:57. His stomach twisted sharply. “Okay. Okay. We have time. We’ll be quick.” He shut the laptop, putting it back in the box. “Let’s go.”

He stood up, and JJ did as well. He grabbed his hand and the two of them started running.

And somewhere else in the city, a man sitting at a desk leaned back in his chair, staring at a screen on a bank of monitors. Three hours left. They were still ahead of schedule, but now only slightly.

He reached over and switched cameras, checking first on a room with two people behind a sheet of plexiglass, then another with a single man lying unconscious on the floor. Good. Nothing had changed.

He stood up. By his calculations, it would take them anywhere from thirty minutes to an hour and a half to reach their destination. Enough time to drive over there and set up the final puzzle of Set 2. He chuckled.

He couldn’t wait for this part. It was a classic, one of his favorites. Though he had a feeling Jackieboy and his friends wouldn’t appreciate it as much.

#jacksepticeye #jacksepticeye fanfiction #jacksepticegos #septic egos #jackieboy man #jameson jackson #brigid writes fanfiction #chaostheoryfic

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allatariel · 5 years

Text

Beth and Saint Catherine of Alexandria

I wrote this nearly three years ago and it has been languishing in my google docs waiting to be made tumblr-ready ever since. I have not updated the content appreciably, so it may very well contain outdated theories or speculations long since proven false or at the very least ill-timed, but it feels like unfinished business. I'd rather realease it into the wild than delete all this work. To my knowledge, no one else has yet touched on at least the visual connections herein, but I have been out of touch with TWD and the fandom for a few years now, for various reasons. Thank you for your indulgence.

Apologies if I'm rehashing old information; I looked and couldn't find anything like this, but maybe I ain't looking right.

Special thanks to @bethgreenewarriorprincess and @bethgreeneishopeunseen for listening to me ramble about this and all your help!

The image below of Beth waking up in the hospital never appeared in the show, but has been used often promotionally (here, here, and here for a start), even years later (on August 7, 2016) with the tweet of the Beth's Journey video originally posted to YouTube on November 30, 2014 after 5x08 Coda aired.

She looks altogether more beatific than Rick did in roughly the same situation. See how the light, almost heavenly in nature, illuminates her clean face, smooth brow, and shiny hair and reflects in her eyes, giving them a diffused look, as though she’s looking at something no one else can see, like an apparition. Contrast this with Rick bathed in wan light, sweaty and unkempt, his brow furrowed in confusion and dawning alarm, as he takes in the evidence of neglect in the room around him that is plain for us to see in the ensuing shots.

I knew I'd seen this image somewhere before, and I know it's a very typical depiction of beatific passion, many examples of which can be found in religious art and throughout art history (e.g., here, here, here, and here). But it specifically looks, to me, most like Raphael's Saint Catherine of Alexandria. (for an additional analysis of Beth's saintly framing supported by connections to another saint, St. Mary Frances, see here)

This is a cropped screenshot of the full image found on Wikipedia. Note that another depiction by Caravaggio, whose The Denial of Saint Peter figures very prominently in 5x04 Slabtown (for an analysis of the use of this painting in 5x04, see here), is linked from that page and vice versa, but not any other artist's versions, of which there are many (see here, here, and here for a few). (It is also interesting to note that Caravaggio's The Denial of Saint Peter is housed at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City, and though it has toured, it has never been exhibited at the High Museum of Art in Atlanta, Georgia. The High does have another painting titled The Denial of St. Peter in its collection, which was painted some twenty years later by Nicolas Tournier who was influenced by Caravaggio's work.)

Saint Catherine of Alexandria is a bit of a mythic figure; the following summary of her life is quoted from the Wikipedia page for her, with citations included linked within.

Legend

According to the traditional narrative, Catherine was the daughter of Constus, the governor of Alexandrian Egypt during the reign of the emperor Maximian (286–305).[6] From a young age she had devoted herself to study. A vision of the Madonna and Child persuaded her to become a Christian. When the persecutions began under Maxentius, she went to the emperor and rebuked him for his cruelty. The emperor summoned fifty of the best pagan philosophers and orators to dispute with her, hoping that they would refute her pro-Christian arguments, but Catherine won the debate. Several of her adversaries, conquered by her eloquence, declared themselves Christians and were at once put to death.[7]

Torture and martyrdom Catherine was then scourged and imprisoned, during which time over 200 people came to see her, including Maxentius' wife, Valeria Maximilla; all converted to Christianity and were subsequently martyred.[8] Upon the failure of Maxentius to make Catherine yield by way of torture, he tried to win the beautiful and wise princess over by proposing marriage. The saint refused, declaring that her spouse was Jesus Christ, to whom she had consecrated her virginity. The furious emperor condemned Catherine to death on a spiked breaking wheel, but, at her touch, it shattered.[7] Maxentius finally had her beheaded.

Burial A tradition dating to about 800 states that angels carried her corpse to Mount Sinai. Her body was discovered around the year 800 at Mount Sinai, with hair still growing and a constant stream of healing oil issuing from her body.[9] In the 6th century, the Eastern Emperor Justinian had established what is now Saint Catherine's Monastery in Egypt (which is in fact dedicated to the Transfiguration of Christ).

She is generally believed to have been eighteen at the time of her death. Her feast day is November 25, and in celebration of this day in France, unmarried women pray for her intercession to find them husbands. These unmarried women are referred to as “Catherinettes” and their friends make elaborate hats, or bonnets, for them, using the colors yellow for faith and green for wisdom. The Catherinettes are crowned with these bonnets and make pilgrimages to St. Catherine’s statue in their local churches. Also of note and pertaining to France, she is believed to have appeared to Joan of Arc.

Saint Catherine has patronage over many things; because of her chastity, she is the patroness of unmarried women; because of her scholarship and skill in debate, she is the patroness of apologists, archivists, educators, female students, jurists, lawyers, librarians, libraries, philosophers, preachers, scholars, schoolchildren, scribes, secretaries, stenographers, and theologians; because of her association with the breaking wheel and wheels in general, she is the patroness of craftsmen who work with a wheel (potters, spinners), mechanics, millers, and wheelwrights; because of her beheading, she is patroness of knife sharpeners; because of her martyrdom, she is the patroness of dying people and nurses; because of a tradition in France on her feast day relating to her patronage of unmarried women, she is patroness of milliners, hat-makers, tanners, and haberdashers.

She is associated with a number of items, or attributes, and when depicted in art these items are often shown with her. A crown, either atop her head or at her feet, denoting her royal birth; a book, held open or closed in her hands, and perhaps her arguing with the pagan philosophers denoting her eloquence and wisdom; a bridal veil and ring denoting her mystical marriage to Jesus Christ; a dove as one legend states she was fed by a dove while imprisoned; a scourge, the breaking wheel, either whole or itself broken at her touch, and the sword that finally ended her life by decapitation; (hailstones are also listed in places, I got nothing). The type of firework known as the Catherine wheel is named for her.

Additional references for information about Saint Catherine of Alexandria can be found here, here, here, and here.

And now for the parallels, the reason I’m boring you all (all two of you) with these details about a long dead, and likely entirely legendary figure.

Like Saint Catherine, Beth is the daughter of a leader. Hershel Greene, initially of the Greene family farm and later of the prison. Before the fall of civilization, Beth was a student and after she doesn’t start out understanding what’s really going on in the apocalypse. When faced with it, she thinks she wants to die, but when she tries to kill herself she has an epiphany and chooses to live; this is rather like Saint Catherine’s path to conversion, in how she devotes her life to learning, then experiences a vision and becomes Christian.

Beth was “imprisoned” in Grady Memorial Hospital, was beaten, but never broken. Carol and the others "visited her" in her prison and she converted people, like Noah and Dr. Edwards, to another way of thinking. She broke their system by challenging it and getting Dawn killed after having killed the biggest offenders, Gorman and O'Donnell. She was shot, but didn’t die. Saint Catherine was imprisoned and tortured, many came to visit her and were converted. They tried to execute her and she not only survived, she broke the tool of her execution, symbolically breaking their system. Both were eighteen at the time of their imprisonment and attempted execution.

Beth was carried out of the hospital by Daryl, who wears angel wings, and left in a trunk after running from 800 walkers. She wasn't dead so her body would not corrupt. Additionally, she is immune to the infection and incorruptible by it (another way she “breaks the wheel” by breaking the infection). Her immunity will be the source of the cure and thus heal others. Saint Catherine's body was carried to Mount Sinai by angels and was found incorrupt and issuing healing oil in the year 800.

The mystical marriage of Saint Catherine is interesting; one variation on her conversion involves her search for a husband that matched her in intellect, nobility, and beauty and a hermit in the desert who, after a vision of Jesus Christ and the Virgin Mary, went to Saint Catherine and told her of the spouse she desired. This hermit eventually baptised her, preparing her for her mystical marriage to Jesus. C@rol, who was a hermit for a while, brought Beth’s knife (an attribute of Saint Catherine, a small sword) to Daryl, giving him his lady’s favor, essentially marrying them (more here).

Saint Catherine’s reason for her refusal of the offer of marriage from the man who was trying to have her executed makes me think of the metas about 4x12 Still and the blood splatter on the white sweater foreshadowing Beth losing her virginity with Daryl (here and here, though there are more). I can just imagine Negan asking her to join his harem and Beth refusing by saying she's already promised to someone.

Bonus connections!

Beth’s father, Hershel, was beheaded with a sword like Saint Catherine; I know this isn’t a direct parallel as this happened to her father and not her, but I think the connection is solid enough with him being her father and her having watched it happen.

The spoked breaking wheel rather resembles a clock, which is heavily connected with Beth.

Saint Catherine appeared to Joan of Arc and counseled her; in 5x04 Slabtown Beth brought some small comfort to Joan during her confinement after her amputation.

Coda aired on November 30, the Sunday following Saint Catherine’s feast day of November 25.

Saint Catherine is a patroness of mechanics, and Daryl, Beth’s apocalypse husband, is the mechanic of the group (bonus bonus, he rides motorcycles which have spoked wheels like the breaking wheel).

The blond walker in the yellow wheelchair (mentioned here, here, and here, towards the bottom in all three) with the wounded left foot in 4x06 Live Bait is connected with Beth through her signature yellow color and wounded left foot in 5x13 Alone, and the spoked wheels of the wheelchair resemble the breaking wheel, symbolically representing the hospital and foreshadowing her breaking of it.

In Raphael’s Saint Catherine of Alexandria, there is a braid in Catherine's hair that starts at her left temple; Beth often wore a braid on the left side in her ponytail.

The traditional colors of the bonnets made for the Catherinettes celebrating Saint Catherine’s day in France were yellow for faith and green for wisdom; Beth has been strongly associated with yellow and faith and her last name is Greene. Also both she and her father have been associated with wisdom.

Not to mention the St. Catherine of ALEXANDRIA thing.

The final parallel I would like to highlight is the breaking of the wheel as the breaking of the cycle the show is currently stuck in, like a pair of millstones, the runner stone circling on the bedstone seemingly endlessly. The official synopsis for season 7 says “This half season is about these characters starting over. The overall theme of the season is beginning again.” The first episode of season 6 was called First Time Again. In season 5 after Terminus they begin again together. The Governor destroys the prison and they are forced to begin again, scattered. How many times will we take it once again from the top, everyone? (Washington D.C. = D.C. = da Capo, anyone? “Da Capo” is Italian for “from the head” and shares the same Latin root with “decapitate.”)

I mean, that's what the comic has done, over and over and over again; the war with the governor, All Out War, The Whisperer War—same shit different day. Abraham references this in his speech in 5x02 Strangers, “Wake up in the morning, fight the undead pricks, forage for food, go to sleep at night with two eyes open, rinse and repeat?” as encouragement to get them to join his mission to D.C.

Beth’s return is a way to break that cycle for the show—in the endless string of deaths and losses, finally they get someone back.

Morgan says, “People can come back, Rick.” in 6x15 East. Morgan says it to Rick just like Rick said it to the governor when he came to take the prison. Rick says, "Everyone who's alive right now. Everyone who's made it this far. We've all done the worst kinds of things just to stay alive. But we can still come back. We're not too far gone. We get to come back. I know... we all can change." in 4x08 Too Far Gone.

In 6x15 East, Morgan also says, "It—it's all a circle. Everything gets a return." Everything comes full circle with Beth’s survival, she’s not just “another dead girl” as she says in 4x12 Still.

The circle, the cycle, the wheel—Beth will break the wheel just like St. Catherine of Alexandria. Once more from the beginning, but skip to a different ending (da Capo al Coda).

#team delusional #team defiance #meta #beth greene #st. catherine of alexandria #religious symbolism #parallels #long post #i hope the read more works #i made this #this draft is nearly three years old #better late than never #I don't even watch this show anymore but this draft was taunting me

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falseroar · 5 years

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Dark Laughter Part 10: You Look Like Me

((Here’s the link to the previous part, Part 9: Storm Warning. This is definitely the darkest part of the series, with physical violence, suggested choking/stabbing, and suggested major character death. No gore and limited details, but still important to know going in.))

“Dark?” Wilford’s voice boomed out as he roamed the empty halls of the ego house. “Come on out, you silly goose!”

He opened a door at random and frowned at the darkened study. No one there.

The slam of the door met the rumble of thunder in the distance.

Wilford blinked, pink slipping in around the brown of his eyes as he went to the next door.

Another study, this one smaller with a single desk covered with notes and books. Newspaper clippings and photos were pinned all over the walls alongside post-it notes covered in erratic scribbles. In the typewriter, closely typed lines filled the page, some of the words merging together in the writer’s haste to type the same sentence over and over again.

“Well that doesn’t seem right,” Wilford said, his tone overly cheery as he shut the door.

He paused and opened the same door again to find a bedroom on the other side. Probably Ed Edgar’s, judging by the number of cowboy hats, but Wilford wasn’t one to judge.

Rain pelted the window on the far side of the room and a streak of lightning flashed outside. It briefly lit up a mess of covers and clothes strewn around a massive bed, a broken picture frame lying on the floor where a man in a uniform stared back at the camera. And then the room was back to normal, from the industrial-size tub of mustache wax at the foot of the bed to the posters of Buffalo Bill and Billy Mays on the walls.

The crash of thunder this time completely covered the sound of the door shutting and rumbled on as Wilford went through the house, his path becoming increasingly erratic with every roll of thunder, every flash of lightning. He moved from door to door and floor to floor without passing any of the space in between, but the longer he searched, the more what he saw just stopped making any sense.

Then again, when did anything here make any sense?

Wilford kept searching but, funnily enough, it was getting harder to remember exactly who he was looking for.

Well, whoever they were, he’d find where they were hiding eventually.

He had to.

Another burst of thunder shook the house and he laughed, but for some reason it sounded more like a broken, cracked sob.

---

“How?”

Dark moved closer to the mirror, staring intently at the District Attorney standing on the other side.

“How are you here, like this?”

They spoke, but after a few words Dark had to shake his head.

“I can’t hear a word you’re saying.” He moved closer to the glass, aware that he did not seem to have a reflection. It gave the impression that he was looking into a window which just so happened to have an identical version of your room on the other side than an actual mirror. They did not back away, but their eyes narrowed as he approached. “You…you’re the one who remembers.”

They nodded, once.

“Y/N—The other Y/N, do they know you’re in here?”

They shook their head.

“How long have you been in here?

One shoulder up and then down again in a half shrug.

Dark paused, letting this information sink in. He knew how you referred to the District Attorney, to the one who remembered as if they were a separate person. He’d thought you were just trying to blank out those memories, that with the right…incentive you would remember more than just the random flashes. That is, until he “borrowed” your body in the events leading up to his eviction. In that short time, he’d felt a second presence hiding in the back, stirring up memories and…other things best left forgotten, the same presence that had tried to fight him before he left them in the mirror all those years ago.

“Can I assume you just didn’t want to go back to where you felt more…at home?” he asked, rapping a knuckle on the glass of the mirror.

They scowled and made a gesture that Dark had no trouble identifying.

“Rude. And foolish, considering your situation.” Dark spoke with practiced confidence, but he couldn’t take his eyes off of them. This was…well, more than unexpected. It was interesting. He only managed to meet their eyes, the decades of pain and anger there, for just a few seconds before he looked away. “Then explain or stop wasting my time.”

They shook their head and sighed. After taking a moment to look past Dark, they turned and walked toward the back wall of the bedroom reflected behind him, where your board with its pictures hung above your dresser. They studied the pictures and took two down before returning to their place in the mirror opposite Dark, where they held up two different pictures of you, one from the beach and one from a project you had helped Mark on recently.

“Not the best pictures,” Dark answered and they sighed again. Remembering everything seemed to have done a number on their supply of patience. That, or they grudged every minute of this “conversation” with him. “I get it, you and Y/N.”

They shook their head and pointed at the first picture.

“Y/N.”

They nodded and pointed at themselves and the picture again, then held it possessively to their chest. It took a few more variations on the gesture before Dark said, “Your Y/N?”

The District Attorney nodded and their glare quickly made the smirk forming on Dark’s lips disappear.

“Fine, your Y/N. Then who is that supposed to be?” Dark asked, gesturing toward the second picture.

They looked around before giving up and taking their own fingernail to the picture. By the time they finished scraping away at the image and held it up for Dark to see, the you in that picture’s eyes had been completely marked out and a smiled scratched above the lower half of your face.

Any breath Dark had he lost as he stared at the image. With more vivid detail than he ever wanted, he saw you again, bloody and smiling in the mirror downstairs. He remembered the split second when he woke up in his office and saw “you” leaning over him, but your eyes…

There was nothing there.

“The Mask,” he whispered and the District Attorney nodded. “No, it…Why…If you knew it was here, why didn’t you do something?!”

The District Attorney gestured helplessly at the mirror.

“Don’t give me that! You and Y/N, you’ve warned them before, you’ve stopped me before, you should’ve been able to—”

They shook their head and help up the damaged picture of you, of the Mask, and laid it over the normal picture of you before pantomiming it pulling the normal picture away from their outstretched hand.

“It’s keeping you from them.” Dark stared at their reflection as this sank in. The District Attorney, locked away again, not even able to warn you of what was coming. How many times had they tried to reach out to the others, and he was the first to notice? “I didn’t even know that was possible.”

The District Attorney’s eyes went down to the pictures in their hands and he watched as their anger and impatience with him turned into worry and sadness.

“It isn’t, is it?” Dark asked, but the District Attorney didn’t look up. Two sets of memories, but one existed before the mirror, while the second was created inside of it, inside of that house, in another place entirely based on what you had said before. You weren’t made to walk around this reality, at least not alone.

“Y/N, where are they now?”

The District Attorney went back to the pictures and returned with one of several of the egos posing in front of a sandcastle, but their finger pointed out one in particular.

“Dr. Iplier. The infirmary?” When they nodded, Dark realized he needed to go, but thought he should point out one possible solution to their problem. “Y/N, you don’t have to stay trapped in this mirror. The…’other’ you may be unavailable at the moment, but there is an alternative.”

They took it about as well as Dark expected them to, which is to say that if any stare could turn him to stone, theirs came extraordinarily close. He didn’t need to be able to read lips to guess what they said in response, but he could practically feel the venom coming through the glass.

“Well, it’s your choice, of course,” Dark said and turned to leave but stopped short when he heard another knock on the mirror.

The District Attorney had moved to the back of the reflection and now stood next to the dresser. As Dark watched, they pointed at the bizarre stuffed animal sitting on top of it, the one Wilford gave you.

“This?” Dark asked as he picked it up. “You can’t seriously expect me to take this with me.”

The District Attorney nodded solemnly, their eyes meeting his with every ounce of sincerity.

“Fine,” Dark said, if only because he didn’t have time to argue. He tucked the rabbit or bear or whatever the thing was under his arm and pretended like he couldn’t see the smile on the District Attorney’s face. “But once I’m done fixing this, you owe me.”

At the door, he glanced over his shoulder again, but the District Attorney was gone. Holding on to the ridiculous stuffed animal, Dark disappeared into his aura and took the more direct route to the infirmary.

He stepped out of the darkness and, with perfect dramatic timing he could have done without, the thunder outside roared as he took in the sight of you, shivering in your sleep on one of the infirmary beds. There was no sign of the doctor anywhere, and the only other person in the room was the broken Google android that lay just outside the storage room door, the ‘G’ on its green shirt faded and dark.

He could hardly count the other you sitting perched on the foot of the bed as a person, with its blank eyes focused on the door and a smile on its face as if it had been expecting him.

“You certainly took your time, didn’t you? Not like there’s anything important on the line for you though, so…” The Mask swung its legs back and forth a couple of times before jumping up to its feet. “I can’t blame you too much. Still was really looking forward to seeing you again after our last little meeting, do you remember that?”

Dark stood his ground as the thing approached but felt his aura swirl protectively around him. Did he remember? Even just looking at those empty eyes and the complete and total nothing behind them he felt the pain in his arm again where it had carelessly broken it over a year ago. That, when he had come at it with everything he had. He’d learned then that whatever this thing was, he couldn’t fight or manipulate it. He knew of creatures like this, demons or manifestations or whatever the human word for it might be, but that was just the point: it wasn’t human. It wasn’t even on the same level as that glitch, because at least he could pretend to reason with Anti or at the very least steer that homicidal rage into something beneficial, but Dark had no idea what this thing actually wanted. Well, beyond spreading like a virus to possess and make everyone “look like” it.

But he wasn’t here to fight it, or talk to it. Right now, he just had to get close enough to you that his aura could get both of you out of this room and away from that thing’s influence. If that meant playing along and distracting it, then fine.

“I seem to recall an…incident,” Dark said, careful not to take his eyes off of it. “But you were wearing a different mask at the time.”

“Maybe I thought it was time for a change?” The Mask shrugged and appeared next to your bed, where it looked down at you and smiled. The color had faded from your lips, which pressed together with another shiver. Aside from that small movement you were still, chest barely rising with each breath. Beside your body, the Mask looked like a faded version of you but not by much. Less “real” in comparison, like it wasn’t fully here yet, but at this rate that wouldn’t last for much longer. It was growing stronger for every moment you grew weaker.

The Mask turned its head toward Dark, the same stagnant smile in place. “No, maybe it’s because of the way you all look at this mask. Even your dear blind ‘favorite’ hesitated, and he knew in an instant what he was looking at.”

“The Host?” Dark asked, stopping short in his attempt to move closer to the bed. If anything, that smile grew wider as he measured his reaction. At least one casualty already then, not including a Google, but Dark knew he had just left some of the egos minutes ago. They couldn’t all be infected, not yet. And it could all be undone, if they could just get rid of this thing again. Priorities, then: keep talking. “You’ve been busy, although I suppose you would need to make up for lost time. You said I took my time, but it took you over a year to even show any kind of face around here.”

“I…Was curious, of the one who sent me back after so much time together in the place beyond the mirror, of the man with all the masks and all these parts to get to play, of all these lovely puppets and fans and of so much potential to consider. Of the curious little house who became a voice and offered a choice and became…something else.” The Mask was back in front of Dark again, this time its version of your face far too close to his own. “Now isn’t that interesting?”

“Your rhymes could use some work,” Dark replied.

He immediately regretted it when the Mask laughed. It sounded nothing like your own laugh, or like any sound a living creature would want to make in any state of mind, and it continued for far too long.

Dark’s eye twitched as his aura began to ring, the darkness gathering in around him as the lights overhead flickered. “Your interest is…flattering, but my condition is old news at this point. I’m more curious about what you are. Why are you here? What could you possibly want from these idiots and bleeding hearts that you couldn’t find somewhere else?”

“See, you’re missing the point here, just how simple it is. Me—no no no, the question is, what do you want?” The Mask giggled and began to pace around the infirmary, fiddling with the corner of your blanket or the curtains as it passed by, but always, always keeping that smile and those hollow eyes on Dark. “I learned so much watching you, saw how…alike we are. Let’s be honest, nothing would make me happier than to see the Entity smile one last time.”

Dark turned as if to keep the Mask in sight, but the movement brought him closer and closer to your bed. Just a little closer, but at those words he stilled and his aura took on a violent hue, with a split-second afterimage snarling at the figure across the room.

“We are nothing alike—You are just a pathetic creature playing at being someone else. Without that “mask” of yours, you are nothing.”

The mask in question tilted its head without responding, but that smile on the image of your face twitched slightly.

“And you do not get to call me the Entity, or Celine, or Damien. I am them and so much more. I am certainly more than a pointless, messed-up reflection like you.”

“You don’t like my mask? Oh, yes, you did throw this face away when you had the chance, but maybe you’ll…Understand the desire to have a body of your own, a face of your own, even if you have to take it from someone else first.” It picked up a scalpel from among a line of Dr. Iplier’s instruments and twirled it between its fingers as it spoke, and Dark swore one of those blank, hollow eyes closed for a split second in a wink.

“…You might be projecting a little,” Dark said, and the smile grew just that much wider.

“Look at you, how far you’ve come, it’s…inspired me. Only you let all of these ‘idiots and bleeding hearts’ you called them hold you back, treat you like you’re nothing again? One has to wonder if you just want to go back to being a whisper in the darkness, a…suggestion in the mind. Knowing how fun that can be after my own experimentation, it’s still…disappointing.”

Experimentation? Dark briefly wondered what this thing had been doing besides haunting him but brushed the thought away. He feigned walking closer to the Mask, the path just so happening to bring him closer to your bed. It moved like Wilford, often skipping the space in between it and where it wanted to go, but Dark just had to get you in his aura and it wouldn’t matter.

“I, unlike you, understand the value of patience. I don’t need to possess everyone to make them do what I want when a word here and a word there is so much easier. And, you’ll notice that they chose to bring me back while you are just going to be thrown back to whatever crack you slithered out of. They know, and they will always remember, how much they need me.”

“Lovely speech,” the Mask said in the same cheery voice as always. “Is that what you tell yourself? Knowing that, you certainly don’t need some loose end getting in the way after you thought you took care of it so long ago. Easy enough to take care of that for you.”

Dark blinked and the Mask was gone from its spot on the other side of the room beside the instrument tray. Behind him, he heard a giggle and turned in time to see it balance the scalpel still in hand as it stood next to the head of your bed.

“No!”

It laughed as the word escaped from Dark’s lips.

“Maybe not then, maybe there’s something that could be done to make…Everyone so much happier, so much more ready to smile for me.”

Dark moved at the same time as the Mask, aura lashing out to keep it from getting any closer to you, but he was not prepared for it to lunge toward him instead. It reached for him with its mask of you, your hand gripping Dark’s throat as it bore him down toward the ground.

Dark’s voice and breath couldn’t escape as his aura lashed out wildly, tearing into the false form of you, unable to look away from your face that wasn’t made to smile that way, your eyes that lacked any spark of anything beyond that cold emptiness and, somewhere in the void, something else looked out.

But the Mask continued to smile as if it could not feel the cuts while its other hand, the one holding the scalpel, moved and Dark gasped. His aura reacted to the pain, splintering into multiple afterimages as the Mask added its weight to the point.

“Beneath it all, beneath that face you stole…You look like me.” It shouldn’t have been able to smile any wider or tilt its head that way as it saw the darkness of his aura begin to split and flicker between red, and blue, and, because it was looking for it, an echo of green. “Even after all this time, you just can’t let them go. But don’t worry, this will help. You’ll have all the time you need to realize where you went wrong, where you lost control, and who knows, maybe we’ll meet again…Entity.”

It watched, and smiled, as the last of Dark’s aura faded away until he stopped struggling.

((End of Part 10. Thank you for reading. Just a random question, but have you ever noticed anything about the way Maskiplier talks?

Link to Part 11: Heartbeat here!

Tagging: @silver-owl413 @skyewardlight @withjust-a-bite @blackaquokat @catgirlwarrior @neverisadork @luna1350 @oh-so-creepy @purpstraw @weirdfoxalley @95fangirl @lilalovesinternet-l @thepoolofthedead @a-bit-dapper @randomartdudette @geekymushroom @cactipresident @hotcocoachia @purple-anxiety-blog @shyinspiredartist @avispate ))

#markiplier #fanfic #wkm district attorney #wkm y/n #darkiplier #wkm colonel #maskiplier #everything's fine #dark laughter #This is not the end #A secret hidden within a friend #The Smile never seems to learn #The Darkness can always return

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mark3tingcpa-blog · 5 years

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Major 5 CPA Marketing Approaches

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marketing cpa CPA STRATEGIES (Cost-Per-Action) Marketing is actually an affiliate marketing income prospect that's akin to affiliate advertising and marketing. The difference between affiliate internet marketing and CPA marketing is because CPA networks pay anyone every time a person clicks on your website link along with takes an motion - just like fills available their email address contact info, register about the landing internet site or perhaps download and install the software package on their mobile phone.

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#3 - Use Document Directories

Document sharing sites make it possible for you to reveal EBOOK documents with other individuals -- they put your docs individual site and everyone viewing their site are generally able to see as well as read your documents.

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If you have a tendency have this much to enjoy right now, don't fret. Discover still an potential to that!

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