#i am so going to rethink this post and delete it or make it private in like an hour tops

[vivalasthedas]

i hope when veilguard comes out people will like... let people dissect it and be critical and very 'the curtains were blue symbolized xyz' and not get shitty about that way of engaging with things you enjoy and claiming that any negative opinion is 'fandom drama'.

like for sure if you don't like talking about that shit, great, don't engage, leave it alone. But the amount of times you'll be having a perfectly fun talk about biowares Unfortunate Implications because of their constant statement of real world parallels and inspirations and their handling of shit in game and how that unintended outcome effects their intended story or something and someone comes along and like fandom high horses about how it's not that deep let people enjoy things why are you being so negative whine whine bitch bitch about it is wild.

Let people engage with fandom however they enjoy. For some that will be Big Think. It will be analyzing shit, no matter their skill level at doing so, and digging into it. If that's not it for you, that's awesome! I'm sure most people like both at different times, different moods, different media properties. Sometimes you want to get in the fandom place and go 'i bet this blorbo would cry if their tamagotchi died' and other times you want to talk about the accidental 'colonialism is good' narrative in the scifi movie you just watched or how xyz thing is part of a larger character motif about 123.

Respect whatever the fuck fandom means to other people, and just don't engage with shit you don't want to. Either direction. Don't go on posts of people being silly goofy and happy and be a jag, don't go on posts being negative or critical about something and get mad about people being negative. Grow up. Move on. None of it matters.

[bumblebee-moreno]

Awkward meetings (GN!reader)

Request: "Awkward first meeting for all the boys" and "Awkward first meeting and You lost something very important to you and they’re helping you look for it with Frankie Morales" for @luminescentlily

(Boys included are: Din, Javier Peña, Agent Whiskey, Frankie Morales, Max Phillips, Marcus P, and Marcus M.

Warnings: None?

A/N: Sorry this took so long to write. I had to leave a few boys out due to writer's block (Ezra, Tovar, and Zach Wellison), and I wanted to get this posted rather than continuing to stare at the screen in hopes of my brain miraculously functioning. To make up for my lack of inspiration at least a little bit, I added Marcus Moreno. Hope that's ok :)

Din Djarin

You feel a tug at your pant leg. Looking down, you are greeted by a pair of large watery eyes and big green ears. “Well hello there,” you smile, crouching down to be closer to the small child. “Where’s your family?”

He simply responds by lifting his arms towards you. You take that to mean he’d like to be lifted up. Scanning through over the crowded marketplace, you search for someone who the kid might belong to. You really have no idea what you’re looking for, having never seen anything like him, but you search nonetheless.

“Hey!” an angry voice calls out behind you. You whirl around, and before you know what’s happening, the child has been torn from your grasp and there’s a blaster to your head.

“I wasn’t going to hurt him I swear, I was just trying to find his family,” you blurt out, raising your hands in surrender.

The figure in front of you doesn’t respond at first, keeping his blaster pointed at you while he inspects the child for injury.

“Why did you have him?” The voice from under the helmet demands.

“I just found him by himself and I wanted to make sure he found his family,” you explain, voice shaking. “Are you his… Does he belong to you?”

“… yes.” He cautiously returns his blaster to its holster.

“I’m sorry,” you relax. “I didn’t mean to scare you. He’s just so… small. I didn’t want him to stay lost.”

The Mandalorian clutches the kid close to his chest as if he’s afraid they’ll be separated again. “Thank you.” He nods his head just enough for you to see the motion.

Javier Peña

“Shit, I’m going to be so fucking late,” you mutter to yourself, walking as fast as you can without sending the tall stack of papers in your arms flying.

On your way down the hall, you start going down your mental checklist.

‘Closed the window so the cat doesn’t escape? Check.’

‘Turned off the lights? Check.’

‘Locked the front door? Fuck.’

You stop in your tracks. How could you forget to lock your front door? You spin on your heel and run back towards your apartment, your one free hand switching between searching for your keys and adjusting the unstable tower balanced on your other arm.

In your haste to get your apartment locked so you can get to work on time, you fail to watch where you’re going.

Your body smacks into another. You fall backwards, losing your grip on the meticulously organised files. They scatter across the floor, completely losing the order you’d spent all night putting them in. The wind is knocked out of you for just long enough to hear the man you ran into grumping about how you should watch where you’re going.

“Shit, I’m so sorry, I’m running late, I should’ve been paying more attention.” You pull yourself to your knees and start gathering your work off the floor. You’d normally stand and make sure the man you ran into is okay, but things at work are tense as it is, and being even later than you already are isn’t going to reflect well on you. Especially now that all of last night’s hard work needs to be done over.

You expect him to get up and walk past you. After his reaction to being practically tackled, you wouldn’t expect him to give you more than a second thought. But then a stack of papers lands on top of the one you’re already holding.

Your eyes shoot up to meet his. “You okay? You hit the ground kind of hard there,” Your neighbour asks.

You swallow thickly. “y-yeah, I’m fine,” you give a shaky smile. “How about you?”

“I’m all right, just running a bit late,” He offers a hasty smile before helping you to your feet. “I gotta get to work, but um, I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah,” you breathe, momentarily forgetting how late you are.

Agent Whiskey

‘Ugh I really needed this day off,’ you type underneath the photo before pressing send.

You place your phone on the edge of the tub before relaxing back into the warm water.

It isn’t long before your phone buzzes. Your eyes widen in horror at the response:

‘I think you’ve got the wrong number, darlin’.’ It’s paired with a photo of a man you’ve never met.

He is kinda cute though. You’d never think the whole “unironically cowboy” thing could ever work but… No. No. You can’t be thinking that kind of stuff. You just texted a stranger a photo of you in the bath for fuck’s sakes, you can’t be attracted to him after that!

You frantically scroll up to examine the photo you sent, breathing a sigh of relief when you confirm that the photo you sent didn’t have anything too revealing in it; between the angle of the camera and the bubbles in your bath, nothing too embarrassing is visible.

‘Shit, I’m so sorry, that was meant for a friend ’

You pick up the shred of paper your best friend scribbled their new number on while you were at lunch with them yesterday, to figure out what happened.

‘not a problem, It’s a nice distraction from this god awful meeting I’m stuck in’

You frown. ‘You’re in a meeting and you’re texting a total stranger?’

You return your gaze to the phone number in your hand. “what in the fuck,” you say aloud to yourself. The second to last digit. It’s supposed to be a 4. Not a 9.

A shaky photo appears on your phone. It’s obviously taken from peeking just the camera of his phone over the edge of the table.

‘Damn, that looks like a serious meeting, shouldn’t you be paying attention?’ If you were texting at work, especially in a meeting, you’d have your ass handed to you unless someone was dying (and even then, it would depend on what kind of mood your boss is in that day). And this guy is just casually texting you, a stranger, during a meeting with people who look like they make more money weekly than what your whole car is worth.

‘I’m a bit more concerned that I don’t even know the name of the person who texted me such a lovely photo 😉’

‘It’s Y/N.’ you send. ‘And please delete that picture, that’s kinda private’ you ask, crossing your fingers that he respects that.

‘Already done. Mine’s Jack, since you obviously weren’t going to ask 🤠’

A soft smile appears on your face. Maybe it is kind of okay that you accidentally typed in the wrong number. Or… it will be after you (lovingly) cuss out your friend for having such bad handwriting.

Frankie Morales

“Shit.” You mutter to yourself, searching through your pockets. “shitshitshitshitshitshitshit” You swear you just had them. Or… maybe you left them on the counter back at the library?

You turn around to run back, rifling through your bag. You only make it a few steps before you’re knocked backwards to the ground.

“Shit, I’m so sorry,” you blurt the moment you catch your breath again. Barely sparing a glance towards the man you ran into, you start gathering your books.

“No, no. I’m sorry,” the man insists. “I wasn’t watching where I was going.” He helps to gather your books.

“You okay?” he finally asks.

You look up at him and freeze. He’s really cute. In the ‘I give the best hugs in the world’ kind of way.

“Yeah,” you respond breathlessly. “I just think I lost my car keys at the library, and I’m running late for lunch with a friend.” You mentally kick yourself. You just ran over the only attractive man you’ve seen since moving here, and then the first thing you do is overshare?

“Oh, did you want some help looking?” he immediately offers.

“I wouldn’t want to be any trouble.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he shrugs. “I’ve got lunch plans I’m desperately trying to find an excuse to get out of, so you’re helping me, really.”

“Okay, um… sure,” you nod. “an extra set of eyes looking wouldn’t hurt.”

“Cool. I’m Frankie.”

You introduce yourself and shake his outstretched hand.

The two of you make your way back towards the library.

“so…” you break the uncomfortable silence. “Lousy lunch plans, huh?”

“…yeah,” Frankie falls silent for a moment. “A couple of guys I used to serve with invited me out and I didn’t really have an excuse to say no.”

“Don’t get along with them?”

“We used to be friends, but I’m kind of rethinking that lately.”

“Oh,” you debate asking more questions. But then again, he doesn’t have to answer if he doesn’t want to, right? “Did… did something happen?”

“Convinced me to go to South America a while back, which would’ve been fine, except we kind of got stuck there, and my wife was left alone with the baby.”

Your stomach dropped at this. You’re not even sure why; you just met the guy, you really have no reason to be disappointed he’s taken.

“Was she at least understanding?” You ask.

“huh?”

“Your wife.”

“Oh,” Frankie chew his lip for a moment. “no. When I got back, she was… possessive. Searching my phone, never letting me go out with friends, that kind of stuff. Separated a few months later.”

“Oh,” you try to ignore the fact that your heart skipped a beat; you can’t be excited—that’s insensitive. “I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t be.” Frankie pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry, actually. I was helping you find your keys, and here I am ranting about my whole tragic backstory as if you actually cared.”

“I don’t mind.” You actually like listening to him. But you keep that to yourself.

“You shouldn’t have to listen to all that though—”

“Shit!” you interrupt him. “I’m such an idiot.”

“What? What’s wrong?” Frankie looks like he’s assuming the worst.

“…I didn’t lose my car keys. I walked here. And lunch with my friend is next week.” You chuckle bitterly. “I was so lost in my head I completely forgot she rescheduled. Sorry I wasted your time.”

“It’s okay,” Frankie laughs. You can’t help but smile at his lopsided dimple. “Hey, since you don’t have lunch plans and I want to get out of mine… Can I take you out? You can tell me your life’s story since you already know mine?”

“Sure,” you smile, though half of you is screaming to just leave the country to escape the embarrassment.

Max Phillips

“Ew, no.” you scrunch your nose.

“Hey, you’re the one that lost the bet.” Eva insists.

“I am not kissing a random stranger.” You sweep your gaze across the crowded café.

“It was your idea.” Eva sips her tea.

“That was because I thought I was going to win.” You cross your arms across your chest.

“You don’t get to opt out just because you’re a sore loser.”

“Yeah, but I don’t know them, what if they have a disease or something? Gross.” Your stomach turns at the idea.

“Okay, fine.” Eva sighs. And, for a fleeting moment, you have hope that she’s given in. “Kiss that guy then,” she points.

You turn. “Oh my god, Eva. No.”

“What? He doesn’t look like he has a disease,” Eva shrugs.

“He looks like a frat boy.”

“He’s cute though.” Eva leans in a not-at-all-subtle way to get a clearer view of him.

“I hate you.” You stand up. “And when I’m done, you’re buying me an entire bottle of vodka to wash my mouth with.”

“Yes!” Eva cheers triumphantly. A few people shoot her expressions of annoyance at the outburst.

You storm over to the man and pull him in by the collar. His lips barely brush against yours before you’re stomping back to your friend. Though, for a moment, you actually consider staying to talk to him. Eva was right, he definitely isn’t hard on the eyes.

You push the thought from your mind and collapse back into your seat, scowling at your friend.

“You’re literally the worst human being on the planet,” you huff.

“You’re just being dramatic,” Eva laughs.

“Am not.” Okay… maybe you are, but Eva can’t know that.

“Fine. We’ll go get you a drink once I’m back from the bathroom.” Eva skips off, still laughing about your reaction.

She’s barely out of sight before her seat is filled by the stranger you just kissed.

“Don’t flatter yourself, I lost a bet,” you don’t look up at him, instead choosing the glare at a stain on the wooden table.

“I figured as much.” You can practically hear the smirk in his voice. “I also figured I have the right to at least know the name of the person who just kissed me.”

You reluctantly introduce yourself, still refusing to make eye contact with the man.

“I’m Max. And, if you want to apologise for kissing me without my consent,” he throws a napkin with a phone number scribbled in red sharpie onto the table in front of you, “You can call me.”

Marcus Pike

You hum quietly to yourself, unable to stop smiling. It’s been so long since you’ve gone on a real date. You turn on your shower, but instead of water coming from the showerhead, it starts leaking from the base of the hose.

That can’t be good. You turn off the water and fiddle with the shower. Maybe it just came loose.

You reach for the handle to try the water again. But before your hand can even touch the cool metal, the entire shower head disconnects from the wall and clatters to the shower floor.

Letting out an exasperated groan, you start gathering your clothes into a bag. You really don’t have time for this today. Crossing your fingers your neighbour is home, you head next door.

You’ve never actually talked to him, but you figure he’s probably a safer bet than the crazy old neighbour on your other side; the way he looks at you whenever you run into him gives you the jitters. And not the “he’s a creep” kind of feeling you get when anyone else stares for too long. More like the “he’s probably got a taxidermy cat in his living room and a human body in his closet” kind of feeling. So the neighbour you’ve never even introduced yourself to will have to do.

Your knock echoes through the quiet air. Shifting from foot to foot, you wait impatiently for an answer.

The door clicks open, leaving you face-to-face with your neighbour, who is way cuter up close than you expected him to be.

“…hi,” He greets you as if he’s startled by your presence.

“…hi…” you bite your lip and tear your gaze away from his face to examine your shoe. “I… Well, I live next door, and well—”

“I know,” he interrupts.

“I-What?”

“I’ve seen you… around. We get home from work at the same time, so…”

“Oh.” You chew on your lip for a moment. “Look, my shower broke, and I have a date I have to get to, and well…” you drift off. Are you really asking your irresistibly adorable neighbour who you’ve never met if you can use his shower?

“Oh. Okay, did you want to use mine then?” You pretend not to notice how pink his face has turned.

“Would you mind? I just—I’m running late and I don’t have time to figure out what’s wrong with mine before I leave and still have time to get ready to go.”

“Sure, Come on in,” He shuffles out of the way to allow you space to enter. “Down the hall, second door to the right.”

“Thank you so much,” you smile awkwardly. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

You walk as quickly as you can without breaking into a run to get to the bathroom, leaving Marcus frozen in the doorway.

This is not how he imagined meeting you. Not that he imagined that at all. And he definitely hadn’t spent hours trying to figure out how to ask you out. Because that would be weird.

And he just let you use his shower to go on a date with someone else.

Fuck.

Marcus Moreno

“Excuse me,” a voice speaks up from behind you, just barely audible over your music. You turn around to find that the voice belongs to a young girl.

“Hello,” you greet taking out your headphones.

“Do you see that guy over there?” she asks, pointing across the cluttered bookstore to a man struggling to balance a tower of books while skimming the shelves for more.

“The one in the glasses?” you confirm.

“That’s my dad,” the girl nods. “He thinks you’re cute, but he’s too afraid to talk to you.”

“Oh,” you say, unsure whether you should be flattered or amused.

“He says it’s ‘cause he doesn’t want to weird you out,” she elaborates, “but I think he’s scared you won’t like him back.”

The man glances up, and, upon seeing his daughter talking to you, rushes over. He pauses only briefly when he trips over a box of books placed in the middle of the walkway.

“Oh, here he comes, act natural,” the girl whisper-yells just before her father arrives. “Oh, hey dad,” she greets him nonchalantly.

“Missy, what did we just talk about?” he scolds.

“I know, I know,” she rolls her eyes. “I shouldn’t go up to strangers and tell them my dad thinks they’re cute even when he totally does.”

Missy’s dad freezes, a look of horrified embarrassment washing over his face. “You… You told them what?”

“I’m going to shop some more,” she walks away, winking at you.

“Hey, you get back here, young lady,” he calls after her, struggling not to raise his voice above a murmur in the middle of the peaceful book shop. His daughter ignores him.

He groans under his breath. “I’m sorry about her,” he turns back to you.

“It’s okay,” you laugh. “I’m Y/N,”

“Marcus.” He looks down at his armful of books. “I’d uh… I’d offer a handshake but…”

“Don’t worry about it,” you smile. Marcus smiles back. You allow a moment of uncomfortable silence before speaking up again. “So… you think I’m cute?”

“What? No! I mean, Yes. I mean…” Marcus’ face scrunches up in embarrassment. “Yes? But not… not in a weird way. I wasn’t like… admiring you or anything. That’d be… weird.” Marcus hangs his head with an exasperated sigh. “I’m sorry. I’ll just shut up now.”

You smile again at the flustered man in front of you. After a moment, you pull a pen from your sweatshirt pocket.

“Well, here’s my number,” you say, writing as clearly as you can across his forearm. “You can text me if you decide you do think I’m cute… In a weird way.”

You walk to the counter to pay for your books, sincerely hoping he decides to text.

---

Taglist:

@pascalisthepunkest @trashbin2 @anatanotegami @beesting77 @northernpunk @pumpkin-stars

[ilovechristopheralexandershaw]

What would your ideal drarry fic be? Like, how would they get together, what tropes would be involved, what would be your ideal story line? Any squicks or triggers or things you aren't interested in? Any HC's with the two of them? :D

THIS IS THREE THOUSAND TWO HUNDRED AND SIXTY SEVEN WORDS OR SOMETHING HELP ME

Whoo boi, honey, lemme tell you, this answer gave me some s t r e s s. Tumblr, can you just...idk, have a save drafts option for asks? No?

Anyways, back to the point. Snuggle down into your blankets y’all, ‘cause this is gonna be one long post.

What would my ideal drarry fic be? Okay, siriusly, legit anything with angst. Copious amounts of angst. Drown me in the angst. I’m always willing to read an angsty fic, almost always as willing to read a fluffy fic and occasionally have an urge for smut but that’s like…every three months or so lmao. I prefer a story that isn’t based on the size of one’s cock. (Sorry if that’s a little crude). I’m fine with any length of fic, as long as it has a good story behind it and if it hopefully has some heart-wrenching moments that make me feel like I might have a soul after all. I love fics that keep their character – not too much, though – and have them arguing with each other all the time – its more real to me, and makes me laugh. I love drarry because of that, because it’s that ship that will keep their relationship, unlike idk shrek and Fiona who fall for each other and lose their old self completely. Drarry is that ship that stays intact and old and new at the same time, and that’s why I love it. 

How would they get together? I have this vision of the two getting together slowly. First it’s banter, insults, hexing, all the while having miscommunication and some serious pining because I’m an absolute sucker for that shit. As I said, angst. Hate turns to like and death threats to exasperated, witty little replies, private jokes between the two of them – a Malfoy Stinks embroidered on his robes in place of Healer Malfoy.

I love fics where there’s just that one, final leap of – I have to do it, otherwise I’ll never get another chance, I don’t care about the consequences. If it’s a kiss that gets them together, in that ‘final chance’ way, I love it when the other is too shocked, and the first person just loses all hope (I mean until like two seconds later when they’re snogging the life out of each other lmao). Basically just a slow build and all the sass 😊 

Tropes? Okay, I’m gonna admit that even though I’ve been in the fandom for a few months, I still can’t define so much, but I hope most of what I write here is legible.

I love coffeeshop Aus, I find them really cute and sweet, and a blushing Malfoy is always a bonus. Eighth year is my absolute jam, unless it’s a drinking fic in which case no thanks. I love friends to lovers or enemies to lovers – the slow build, especially if the author has timed it perfectly, is just argh, I love it. Pining has been mentioned like a hundred times already but I’m going to say it again just because. Roommates are okay, I guess, but not exactly my go-to. I do like muggle Aus, and even though I think Potter should be a teacher, I enjoy the action in an Auror Partners fic, too. Also uh..oops? This was supposed to be tropes that were involved not the tropes you like you dumb butt. That’s not what Nonny asked.

My ideal storyline for a drarry fic? Not sure if this is what you’re asking but I’m gonna go with it and if I’m wrong then I’m wrong y’know?

As I said, I like fics with pining. I love a number of storylines, but I’m just gonna choose one for this thing since it’s already almost if not over two thousand words (is anyone even reading this? Who cares, I’m having fun) okay I checked its like over 2600 help me. Also this turned out into a fic not an ideal storyline hhhhhhhh

I guess I like fics with slow-building pining, going from meeting together at work or having to work together for some reason in eighth year, or just seeing each other in eighth year. PTSD gets them together, but so does the (admittedly weaker) banter, since nobody understands either of them – the Saviour and the Ex Death Eater. The press is still going off about the war, and everyone has their own ways of coping. Soon enough, they’re friends – (ok let’s pretend this is eight year) and helping each other through the bad days. And soon enough, the insults that hit closer to home for others but not them, the inside jokes, the love of Quidditch, the homework assistance – all this time around each other turns to pining. Malf-Draco, with his white-blond hair and black turtlenecks that he kept even though that was what he wore as a Death Eater. With his now self-deprecating jokes instead of hurtful insults. With his smile, that shows his sneer lines of the past. With his blue-gray eyes. With his knowing smirk when they’ve done one of their own eighth year pranks. Even with his wonky Charms and obsession with stroking the Dark Mark and the way he stops in front of the Room of Requirement every time they pass. And Harry, with his mop of untidy hair and glasses that have had Reparo used on them who knows how many times by now? With his bright green eyes, with his surprisingly pale skin, with the way he disappears into the forest every now and then, staring at the clearing where Voldemort once thought him dead. They pine, they’re oblivious, and finally, Pansy spills it to draco, an exasperated ‘will you kiss him or not’ just as Harry rounds the corner in his invisibility cloak. ‘are you stupid. Pans? We’re just friends.’ (wow ideal storyline this is a mini fic by now what am I doing with life my math sheet is like right in front of me I should be doing that). The questions, that night, in their respective beds. And the finale, with Harry rethinking ‘we’re just friends’ in his head in the final Seeker-to-seeker game, Draco leaning in.

Finally. 

Okay, squicks. Here we go. First of all, I don’t really like fics where they speak really…I don’t know, childishly? To each other eg. too many cheesy pet names (‘Hi hun,’ he giggled, taking the offered plate), since my idea of drarry is a couple that banters all the time, not one that sits around squealing at each other. That’s the main reason I ship them, after all.

Another squick, although this just annoys me more than makes me uncomfortable, is when there’s a fic involving children where the author makes their speech like that of a baby. Five year olds and younger can make legible sentences, so it’s sometimes irritating when eight-year-old Scorpius is saying ‘dada give h-h-hoog’ if you get my drift.

Daddy kink is another thing. If you like it, good for you but personally, I- *shudders* no thanks. It’s just – okay, my dad’s like over fifty, and that’s what I imagine if I think of that. Sex with my dad? I’ll pass. Calling your boyfriend your ‘daddy’? I- no no no just no I’m sorry but no.

Okay, I’ll rephrase. Most, if not all kinks make me uncomfortable – I’ve said daddy already, Parseltongue (just any other language) is just weird to me (it’s not disgusting, I just find it kind of dubious I guess.), any sort of pet play is similar if not worse than daddy kink, choking or breath play sounds more like rape (I’m crude, handle it), lingerie is just hella weird and I don’t even want to know what tentacles are, thank you very much. I’ll stick to my vanilla sex.

Any sort of sex toy/tool use is also a squick (including painful BDSM stuff), but I’m not sure if that’s kink so I’ll just add it here.

I don’t mind OOC fics, but, again, if they’re too soft (unless it’s some sort of caring angsty oneshot e.g. most of @rose-grangerweasleyisbae ‘s ones) then they most likely don’t work with me either. 

Triggers? No, I haven’t read any fics that have triggered me in any way and I’m not sure if I have any. Most are squicks.

Fics, or tropes, I guess, that I’m not interested in would include either one being some sort of Magical Creature (although there are some exceptions – some writers make really good fics with these tropes), and by that I mean any humanoid creature such as a werewolf, vampire etc. Veela especially. Also, anything with mates. (Fun fact, in my first answer that got deleted, I wrote a headcanon fic thing with draco as a bowtruckle since I said I don’t know if that’s a squick bc I’ve never read it and decided to do it for fun)      

Dunno what this is, but I’m gonna include it as well – I also don’t like fics where their entire supposedly ‘loving’ relationship is completely based on sex. I’m okay with it if they’re supposed to be fuckbuddies at that point in the relationship, but if this is what the author is calling their ‘established relationship’, I don’t really like it. 

Any fic that loses the banter after their getting together, where their world and source of happiness is completely revolving around the other – that is also one of my disinterests. As I said, I ship drarry for the sass and banter (and angst). Not the sappy love. 

I don’t really like unhealthy relationships – I read a fic where the whole reason Draco allowed Potter to date him was because he complimented his flying skills, not because he liked him. That’s a really minor example, but basically any fic without actually liking each other or as I said, an unhealthy relationship, doesn’t take my fancy. Unless, of course, they’re fixing it. 

A fic that starts somewhere in the books, eg. third year or something, don’t normally take my fancy, but, again, there is the occasional exception that I turn out to love.

Not exactly Drarry but any poly relationships with the two of them are also a disinterest – I feel like they’re the ones for each other. Dunno if this sounds polyphobic or whatever it’s called, and it probably does, but that’s not it. I just personally don’t think Drarry need another person. Other ships, maybe. Drarry? Not for me. 

Eighth year fics that are based on drinking and drinking games also aren’t my thing (omg there’s like eight million alsos here what am i doing don’t shoot me please (ok i fixed it)). I just don’t like them. 

And fics with any sort of bonding lose my interest pretty quickly, especially sexual magic bonds. Mpreg, as well, again, I’ll read the occasional fic but most of the time I don’t really like it. 

Age difference, again, are something I find strange, and I can go on for hours but this is now around three thousand words and I should stop so y’all can go read your fics lmao.

 And um I’ll give you two headcanons as my way of apologising for the unbelievably late reply

 Harry, lying on the ground, blood dripping from a massive slash in his stomach, chest barely moving, lips slightly parted, tinged red with drying blood

Malfoy, now just a colleague, they’ve lost the schoolboy animosity, hovering over him, wand casting diagnostic spells even though he knows they’re no use – he knows the curse but he doesn’t know the exact variation – and the wrong healing spell will kill the Saviour – he can’t take that chance.

‘Scared, Malfoy?’

His head jerks up, pale eyes widening at the old question thrown back at him. Shoulders slump, his lungs heaving from all he spells he’s cast

‘Yes’ 

Idk just the idea of that final admittance – yes. Idk, just, my heart, man.

Okay headcanon 2 which is more of a fic by this point (someone help me im so bad at headcanons. Like this is all fleshed out in my head but ugh)

Eighth year holidays, Draco is sitting alone at the blazing fire in the common-room, strangely enough knitting, as he talks, friendly but quiet to a surprisingly happy Moaning Myrtle (the common room is where the old bathroom was)

Hermione Jean Granger sits down next to him and he flinches, almost expecting a slap like third year – he’s had hexes from Muggleborns who had nothing to do with the war, and here’s the Saviour’s friend – of course she’s gonna –

She pulls out a massive textbook, quill, inkpot, blotting paper and three rolls of parchmment from her bag, tucks her bushy hair behind one ear, and starts scratching away

He’s surprised, but still too nervous to ask why

It becomes a habit, her sitting there there, him as well, talking to Myrtle, doing Potions work, knitting as well

They start talking to each other, he finds out she Obliviated her parents and doesn’t want to come back just yet, even though she knows the Dark Lord’s gone

She finds out he’s too scared to go home, with all the memories

They become friends of sorts, helping each other when they can

When the holidays end, there are a few double takes, but nobody really questions it. After all, it’s Hermione, she never was too against Malfoy (nobody really saw that slap) and she’s always been a rule-follower. They assume its part of Mcgonagall’s asking for peace between Slytherins and Gryffindors

I mean, Ron does complain about her hanging about the ferret nowadays and not around her boyfriend, but he gets it. Besides, their ‘sessions’, if you will, are always when there’s Quidditch practice for Harry and Ron (they help train the younger years)

So yeah, it’s not too bad (and this isn’t Dramione I promise although I do ship it occasionally)

One day, though, she brings out a bundle of knitting herself. To his surprise, she knits a single sock and puts it in a box

He asks her why

‘For Dobby’

And he remembers. He remembers the strange little house elf, the one he loved as a kid but had no way of showing it. He remembers his father’s hatred of that elf in particular He remembers scowling at the poor thing, ranting to it – it was a way of venting, but in true Malfoy-raised fashion, he’d been so cruel to it as well, laughing as it jammed its fingers in doors, encouraging its pain.

He leaves the common room early that night

Next day, the Golden Trio isn’t there. Hermione (no longer Granger) isn’t there

He knitted a single sock that morning himself. He’d heard the story from their talks. He wanted to contribute. A way of apology, if you will. If it even counted. Today’s the day the elf passed away, and Hermione had said she put a sock in there for everyone

It’s pretty obvious where they’ve gone. He Apparates there after class, and finds the grave easily. It’s got a bundle of Conjured flowers, stems wrapped around the rock that serves as a headstone, and the box of socks is right there too. (what am I doing this is meant to be a short drarry hc and I haven’t even brought potter in yet help)

He starts crying

He spent last night remembering. Remembering how even through all the pain he caused that elf, a single smile, a single ‘thanks for listening, Dobby’ would make the elf bow and weep at his feet. He remembers how cruel he was, how the elf just…took it in his stride. He remembers losing the house elf, realising Potter had stolen something else of his. He remembers

And he lets it go. He spills all of it to a gravestone, apologies and ‘I know it won’t mean anything’ and ‘I didn’t know but that’s no excuse’ and ‘you always listened, how did you always listen?’ and ‘thank you’ and most of all ‘I’m so so sorry’ stumbling over each other as he tries to explain, to finally let it out

He’s crying and sniffling and that’s making it even harder to speak but he needs to say this, even though Dobby is dead, even though he’s apologised to so many people – this is one of the few that listened to him, and he’s treated the elf like garbage.

Tears drip onto the single sock in his hands

It’s hours later when he finishes. Well, not exactly finished, but he’s said enough that he thinks he’s explained himself and said sorry – even though it’ll never be enough. He’s cast a Light Charm (not a lumos ok it’s bigger don’t correct me) and he leans over to put the now-damp sock into the box too. A final ‘I’m so sorry’ and he stands up, turns around

And comes face to face with the Golden Trio

Hermione stares at him, then grabs him in a massive hug

Ron looks at him, slightly awkwardly but at her glare, he offers a tight smile

 And Harry? (wow how long has it taken for me to get here god) is just staring. Openmouthed. Who knew Malfoy had felt this much about a house elf?

And yeah that’s the point where he realises Malfoy isn’t that bad and then they go back to Bill and Fleur’s (Hermione explains along the way that they went back to the grave bc they saw the Charm and were in shock – was Dobby back?)

‘did you hear all of it?’

‘we heard enough, Draco’

 And when they get back to Hogwarts, well, it’s slow building at first. Potions help when Hermione’s out on a date with Ron, a butterbeer in the school kitchens on a Hogsmeade weekend when they want to hide from the public but enjoy the drink

But over time, the pining and the miscommunication and Draco getting back to his (albeit weak) banter with Potter leads to one thing. You know what it is.

Drarry

You know what I’m having fun writing trashy hcs so here’s a third (although it ain’t drarry. It ain’t any ship)

Alright so there is no hairdresser at Hogwarts or Hogsmeade or anywhere near the castle (I mean it was never mentioned in the books was it so this is possibly canon)

Therefore, most kids have to use spells

But we all know that each of us probably has a haircut that is somehow slightly different to one another, and there aren’t that many hair care spells in the world let alone known by a few teachers in Hogwarts

While some kids know exact spells, others, for example, Muggleborns, just use Diffindio

I mean, it gets their hair cut, yeah? That’s pretty much all they need

Of course, Hermione knows each and every spell but let’s not get to that

And Malfoy uses his own spell and a litre of Sleekeazy every morning

But since everyone else cuts their own hair, it looks as bad as each other

And that’s why Harry wasn’t teased too much about his hair (yes, also bc he’s the Saviour bUT STILL)

That’s why Sirius had long hair and etc.

Basically none of the kids at Hogwarts really had good hair and they all looked like Halt from Ranger’s apprentice (also this one is long as heck I could’ve just said everyone uses diffindio and there’s no hairdresser why am I like this)

[comicalbunnessa]

I need to address some stuff.

I think at one point I had this in my DA bio.

But, I have severe anxiety. I often have to rethink about things ive done or drawn. I make mistakes like normal humans do and they break me down like water does to cotton candy.

I often either over explain (which makes it seem like im lying) out of fear i wont be believed or i over share. Once i start talking It’s hard to stop and then i end up feeling like im not liked or im being annoying. I love being to be nurturing to my friends but i feel like shit if i hurt them whether it be by accidental doing or unintentional. I always just wanted to fit in and over the years my life has not been easy. I have unspoken trauma that only close friends know and I will not share them here for personal reasons.

I try my best to keep my hardships out of my art and sometimes i try to convey messages through my comic that are relatable for some people and not just about my troubles.

BlackOut and my art are what mean the world to me and I’ve lost friends because of oversharing when i didn’t mean to push or be pushy. I’m trying my best through therapy (thank god) to stitch up my problems so that these things don’t keep happening cause it hurts me when people are hurt and I dont understand all the time. It bothers me when i can’t understand. It bothers me when no reason is given. It bothers me when i feel like someone is lying to me that something is not my fault when very clearly it probably or most likely is.

I delete things that are too personal but i will share them on tumblr because i feel like its less populated unless i openly share the link to it.

I think towards the middle of 2021 i deleted a small handful of comics of someones characters and my own because they were gifts and i thought we had become close. No matter how long it was we had been talking. I like to check up on people and make sure theyre ok and i get attached to people so easily. It makes it hard to let go in the end. I still struggle letting go. I deleted the pictures aside from one from the art trade we did that sort of sparked my interest in a friendship. I was just so sick of looking at them and it hurt me to look at them. Sometimes when their art pops up i crumble on the inside and it sucks it had to end this way. It makes me wish i wasnt a shitty person and that i had done better. But i know i cant change the past and can only move forward at this point.

I hold no offense to them or any one else that have stopped being my friend or paused the friendship between the two of us. I will not go into detail and i will not tell those who werent there what happened as it was private and it would be rude of me to talk on it. I don’t want anyone to be harrassed either for anything that could possibly be misinterpreted.

I am not going to say that all this is an excuse for my actions and if i could i would take them back and whole heartedly apologize any way i could/can. I hope that one day i can resalvage some of the friendships i probably destroyed. I understand that the world does not revolve around myself and people have conditions like me that could be worst or similar. I just try my best to hold back on things that could potentially hurt people.

I even scrapped a funny character idea i made on a whim because i had gotten attached and babbled way too much on it. Im not sure if it was a coping mechanism or something else but I refuse outside of private sketches to draw them or show them off anymore.

I’m sorry for the long post but this needed to be said. If this is rebloged please tag this appropriatly with a vent tag or important tag.

Have a good day/night everyone. I’m probably going to post some type of art to boost my motivation and mood.

-CB

[imagine-loki]

The Powers That Be

TITLE: The Powers That Be CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter Five AUTHOR: wolfpawn ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki discovering a hidden mutant, when he realises they are at risk of being found by S.H.I.E.L.D. who experiments on mutants, he is the one to help them.

RATING: Teen and Up

NOTES: Honestly thought no one was interested so I stopped posting it, but since I was asked for more, here it is.

Alexia found it difficult to get time with Loki to help her with her training. She also found it hard to describe how the power felt in her. It was almost a fortnight before the tower was empty enough for them to really practise again, but she had gotten better and the incidences were getting less frequent, but both she and Loki realised the more she tried to control it, the greater is seemed to grow.

“I can feel it most of the time now, I feel like it is flooding me.” She stated as she tried to express herself to him as she paced the common area floor.

“Sit, you are making me dizzy.” He ordered as he ceased looking at her.

“What am I to do if it becomes stronger, I will have to hide, but there is no way to hide, Pepper would have SHIELD look for me. There is nothing I can do.” She was not speaking to Loki in particular as she paced faster, causing the light bulbs to flicker.

“Stop!” Loki ordered getting to his feet suddenly. It gave the desired effect and Alexia got sidetracked enough for him to calm her. “There is nothing to be gained by worrying about that, you are only causing it to show more.”

“I cannot hide this forever.”

“I think if it is growing as you think it is, I fear you may be right, but you still need to try.”

“What if I cannot?”

“Then we get JARVIS to explain to Thor what your fate would be, he has a fondness for you, he will protect you.”

“He cannot protect me. Not from them.”

“We have fought against the most dangerous creatures in the Nine Realms, a few SHIELD mortals is nothing. He will take you to Asgard no doubt.”

“I…” Alexia was about to say she did not want to go, but Loki seemed to realise what it was she was going to say and raised a brow, as though telling her to rethink her predicament. “I guess.”

“Just keep on top of it and you will be fine for now. Remember, when you feel the pulses, excuse yourself and deal with getting it under control. Try and focus on crushing it in to ensure it does not grow.” Alexia nodded.

“Forgive my interrupting the lesson, however one Doctor Selvig is on his way up now with Agent Coulson.”

Alexia’s face paled. “I think we best be leaving.” Loki walked out the door and towards the stairwell.

“They are aware of your presence Mr Loki, from what I have gathered it is you they wish to see regarding that sceptre from your previous time on Earth.”

Loki swore. “Go down the stairs, the last thing we need is the Coulson interfering,” Loki instructed.

“You have no idea,” Alexia added, going down the stairwell as fast as she could go.

She rounded the corner when Loki heard the elevator door ping to state it was opening. He quickly stood in front of it, looking as though he was to go somewhere. When the doors opened, he looked boredly at the two men staring at him. “None of them are here.” He stated in an uninterested tone. “Excuse me.” His manner was not a polite one.

“Actually it is you we are here to see,” Coulson stated nonchalantly, as though the man in front of him was not the same one that stabbed the sceptre through his chest, almost killing him.

“I am not interested in anything you have to say.”

“Considering neither of us could ever be accused of being fans of one another, how about I ask you what I am required to ask, you answer accordingly and hopefully we never see one another again?” The agent suggested.

“I would not be so lucky.” Loki hissed back.

“Nor I, but let’s try, just on the off chance.”

“Dr Selvig, so good to see you again.” Loki smiled menacingly.

The scientist looked anywhere but at the God. “I thought you dead.”

“So many did, I am sorry to disappoint you, but I do not tend to die easily.”

“We figured.” Coulson retorted. “Shall we?” he indicated to the common room again. When they entered, he noted a second mug and a scarf but said nothing.

X X X X X X

Alexia was snowed under with work as Stark Industries began a buyout of another firm. She and Pepper were pulling all-nighters for near a week, though that was nothing new to them. Exhausted, she was relieved when finally the takeover was completed and she was permitted an afternoon and night to catch up on some lost sleep.

“You sure you can finish without me?” She smiled as she grabbed her jacket.

“I think I will manage. I got two nights sleep in the last week, you got how many?”

“What is this sleep you speak of?” She laughed as she walked out the door. “See you in the morning Pepper.” Pepper waved and got back to collecting her own things together so that she could join Tony for dinner.

With her head stuck in her phone to see what to order for a quick dinner before crashing on her bed to sleep, Alexia collided with a wall of muscle. “Lady Alex, my apologies.” Thor smiled down at her. “I actually was in search of you.”

“Really?” As tired as she was, Alexia was intrigued as to why Thor was looking for her.

“Yes, Loki stated I should speak with you with regards a matter he stated was quite urgent. I was not aware you and my brother were even on speaking terms.” He looked to Alexia for an explanation after clearly being told nothing by Loki.

“We have spoken less than a handful of times in the past month, I am not sure if I even know what this is supposed to be with regards to.”

“He mentioned you having to hide something, and that it was imperative that I knew about it for your safety. Is everything alright? Lady Alex, you are beginning to look pale.”

“I’m fine, I just…I need some rest. Business takeovers. I have not slept for the bones of a week.” She rambled dismissively.

“So, what is the urgent matter with regards your safety?” Thor queried.

Alexia’s eyes darted side to side in panic. “I…uh-Thor.”

“It is of a sensitive nature; very well, we can go somewhere more private and discuss it.”

“There is nothing to discuss,” Alexia stated bluntly.

Thor frowned. “You reactions beg to differ. Lady Alex, please, if Loki stated that your life is at risk, I am very much insistent that you tell me. I want to help you.” Thor pleaded.

Alexia turned to walk off, scared of anyone hearing their conversation. “I can’t.”

Thor walked behind her and went to take hold of her arm. “Please…”

Alexia was about to retort again when she felt something on her arm and became scared. She turned to face Thor, only for him to be shot across the hallway into the opposite wall with a loud thud. “Shit. I’m sorry.”

Thor stared up for a moment in shock at the force he hit the wall. “I can see what Loki was implying. Though I am confused as to how this is life threatening.” He stated as he rose to his feet once more.

“Midgardians don’t tend to have such…let’s call them abilities.” She explained. Thor continued to look at her blankly, waiting for her to expand further. “From what Loki and I could find, any other Midgardians to have such abilities were captured by S.H.I.E.L.D. and experimented on, resulting in their deaths, or indeed killed as S.H.I.E.L.D. attempted to capture them.” She explained nervously.

Thor took a moment to process what she was saying. “So how does Loki know of this?”

“I may have been the reason for the elevator malfunctioning that time we were in it. He also noticed another time before that too.”

“And he has been aiding you?” She nodded. “I wonder why? He is not one to care for Midgardian’s.”

“I think the whole being tied to a metal table and used as a lab rat thing struck a chord with him.”

“Well, that is one for the books, Loki showing empathy. Who else knows?”

“You and JARVIS.”

“JARVIS?” He looked up to the ceiling.

“He’s been doing research for us, keeping an eye out for people who may interrupt my training, deleting video evidence, everything.”

“And S.H.I.E.L.D. do these things to people like you?” Alexia nodded. “Your father will not allow it.”

“He may not have a choice.”

“Do not fret Lady Alex; I will assist in protecting you.”

“Thank you, Thor.” She smiled weakly. “I better go; I am so tired I don’t know if I can control it fully. I need to rest.”

“Then go rest. I shall arrange to speak with both you and Loki with regards the matter again when we are all in New York once more.”

With a nod and a wave, Alexia walked off in search of a place to rest her head.

X X X X X X X

“You told Thor!” Alexia snapped when she finally was able to speak with Loki alone again.

“No, technically I only told him to speak with you.”

“You as good as told him.”

“But I did not.” The trickster grinned.

Alexia groaned in frustration. “Why am I even bothering?”

“That is a common utterance for me I can assure you.” The prince stated.

“Ms Alex, I’m so sorry.” JARVIS apologised.

“JARVIS?”

“He overrode my system.”

Alexia felt her stomach drop. “Who did JARVIS?”

“I did.” A man stepped into the room from the outside lobby.

“Dad, I…I…” Alex shook in fear.

Loki stared between the two Midgardians. “Odd, I though with your fashion sense, your closeness to Ms Potts and other almost similarities that Stark was your father.”

“How did you…?” She asked.

“When I came with Selvig, you had left your scarf on the couch.” Coulson pulled out the evidentiary garment and let it dangle from a finger. “There is a car outside, get into it. You are being reassigned, I hear from Pepper that you like London.”

“What, no, I don’t work for S.H.I.E.L.D.?”

“You do now, effective immediately. Pepper has been notified and everything.”

“No, it’s a trap.” Alexia shook her head frantically from side to side.

“Lexi, don’t, you have to calm yourself,” Loki warned, keeping his eye on the confusion on Coulson’s face as he looked at his daughter.

“Don’t you dare call her that.” Coulson began to become infuriated. “Alexia, you know what he did here in New York, what he did to Hawkeye, to me!” He shouted, losing his cool, something he was renowned for not doing, regardless of the situation. “And here you are acting like B.F.F.’s with an inter-realm scumbag.”

“Dad please,” Alexia begged, her hands wrapped tight around her torso as she slumped to the ground and curled up as small as she could make herself.

“Is this some sort of revenge for not being there when you were a child, I apologised for that before.”

“Please stop.” She pleaded. Her hands going to her ears to block them.

“Listen to her,” Loki stated firmly, realising that Alexia was on the verge of losing control.

“I should have you locked up for this, poisoning her.” Coulson pulled out a weapon that caused Loki to take a step back.

“No, no, no, no, no, please.” Alexia implored as she did everything she could to try and control her now growing power.

Her eyes were firmly shut as the lights around the room began to glow brightly. The water in the water cooler began to bubble and the glass in the large windows began to crack.

“What are you doing? Thor stated you have no power.” Coulson focused on Loki.

“Stop, please STOP!” Alexia screamed as the glass shattered, the electrics blew and both Coulson and Loki were blasted to opposite sides of the room.

As Coulson rose from the ground to try and right himself, he stared at the shattered glass on the floor, Loki just as stunned on the far side of the room, and in the middle, Alexia looking at him with terror in her eyes. “Lexi, no.”

“I’m sorry dad.”

[rt-fan-trash-blog]

Private Messages.

Pairing :: Kyle Taylor x Fem!Reader

Warnings :: Sexting (well-slaking per say), smut, complete text form, swearing, the usual.

Word Count :: 760

Summary :: You and Kyle get into an erotic conversation at work.

A/N :: Thought it would be interesting to do a whole story in text form.

[Invite accepted. Kyle has joined the chat]

Kyle:: Hey princess, I got something for you.

YN :: What is it?

Kyle :: [Picture of his erection thru his briefs which are shown by his pants pulled down slightly]

YN :: What am I supposed to do with that? [Innocent Kitty Emoji]

Kyle :: I thought you would be open to….talk some things thru.

YN :: Hmm...like what?

Kyle :: Like exactly how I am gonna take you when we get home.

YN :: Please Kyle, we both know it's the other way around. [Winking Kiss Emoticon]

Kyle :: Oh Princess you wish.

Kyle :: We both know you give in easily. Especially when I sink my teeth into that little sweet spot on your neck.

YN :: Well Sir I must admit, you do know of my weaknesses.

Kyle :: Oh course I do Princess.

YN :: You know, I'm supposed to go do some audio takes with Miles but I could stay and chat a while if my block is pushed back a bit, ya know?

Kyle :: Just sent him a text. Now you better keep your word.

YN :: My sweet Knight saves me again!

Kyle :: Princess, as much as I love small talk my body's kinda in need here.

YN :: Sorry Sir [Smiley Face]

YN :: Tell me what it is you wish to do to me. I want to know every detail of your sinful fantasies.

Kyle :: I will throw you on my bed and demand that you take all of your clothes off. I would then leave and if I returned to my chambers and you still had even one article of clothing on I would begin to punish you, my dear.

YN :: What would the punishment be? Surely not something that bad for a simple piece of cloth.

Kyle :: Oh incorrect my love. If I would you still clothed I will tie you to the bedroom, legs spread open to my view. I would then stimulate that beautiful clit of your until your about to climax, I would start and stop until your body is aching for my touch, then I will leave you there. You will writhe there as long as I please and until I feel satisfied in that you have taken enough.

YN :: Wow Sir, I might just mess with you so I can have you do that to me.

Kyle :: You like that thought huh? It must make your pretty little pussy wet, doesn't it? You always have been a kinky little one, haven't you?

YN :: [Picture of your legs spread and underwearless, showing your wet heat] Does this answer your question?

Kyle :: Jesus Christ Princess. Always such a good girl.

YN :: What about you Sir? Are you enjoying yourself?

Kyle :: Indeed I am Princess, indeed.

YN :: Are you touching yourself?

Kyle :: How would you react if the answer was yes?

YN :: I would ache for you more than I already am now.

Kyle :: That is good because I am.

Kyle :: Would you like to see?

YN :: Yes, please. Please, Sir.

Kyle :: [Video Attachment]

Miles :: Damn KT, somebody’s well endowed.

Brandon :: I didn't need to see this shit you know…

Chris :: Yet I'm still the weird sexual one...you rethinking that yet Miles?

Kyle :: WHAT THE FUCK HOW ARE YOU SEEING THIS VIDEO

Brandon :: You posted it in the group chat you dipshit.

Miles :: Man I am taking you home tonight!

Chris :: You know I didn't plan on seeing a cock today.

Aaron :: Somebody say cock?

Blaine :: You summoned us HOLY SHIT THAT KYLES DICK

Kyle :: Fuck. My. Life. Delete this forever, Miles I'm not going home with you. NOT A WORD TO ANYONE.

[Kyle has left the group chat]

Kyle :: Hey Princess were done for now.

YN :: Sir where have you been? You haven't even shown me what you promised.

Kyle :: Look I posted a video of my jerking off in a group chat with the guys. There never gonna forget this….

YN :: HOLY SHIT THAT'S HILARIOUS I MEAN Oh no babe that's horrible!

Mica :: You shouldn't be talking YN.

Lindsay :: I am mentally ruined.

Ryan :: YN just letting you know I DID NOT look at the file attachment to the picture you sent.

Andy :: I did, I thought I was bad as the Jizz Wall Wiper, even I need some eye bleach.

YN :: What the fuck. BTW FUCK YOU ANDY MY LABIA IS PERFECTLY NORMAL!

Gavin :: YN, love, you just sexted in the Achievement Hunter slack group.

Geoff :: By the way Kyle, nice cock.

[Kyle has left the chat]

[YN has left the chat]

[lrambling]

I’m so, so fascinated by the original post here from srslycris. It reflects something that I imagine all Larries cling to desperately: the idea that you are only responsible for the precise content of the things you say, and that no one should ever be held responsible for the indirect impact of your words. This is important to tumblr Larries because it lets them encourage hatred, harassment, and stalking, but deny all responsibility for the impact of the theories and attitude they promote because every so often they say “I wish people wouldn’t post about this on twitter.”

Cris says, “But Amy did not go to that person directly in any way, did not pass along their private information, or otherwise harass them,” and “You want to talk shit, go talk shit, but when you’re crossing the line into intentionally trying to cause harm, or defending those that do, you need to step back and look at who you think you are and who you want to be.”

Cris is, in that very fucking post, “defending those who cause harm.” Nevermind what the person she’s defending has said about Freddie, Briana, and Danielle. The behavior Cris is so eager to absolve was accusing a blogger of lying about her mother’s death.

 Amy has 15,000 followers. She is responsible for the things she says on her blog. She is an adult who is able to consider what impact her words have on her followers. People who give violent speeches are responsible when violence is committed in their name. People who preach hatred are responsible when they encourage hate. And people with 15,000 followers are responsible when they publish and agree with messages that accuse someone she wants to discredit of lying about something so painful. They are responsible when they spread lies. And yes, they are responsible when they are manipulative, because people are impacted by their community and they trust people who are in positions of authority, and it doesn’t make them idiots, as Larries claim whenever they’re accused of manipulation.

Adults with thousands of followers are also responsible for what they do when they are messaged that a 16 year old is questioning, shit-talking, or insulting them in any way (or, in this case, expressing discomfort). Speaking personally, it was this more than anything else Amy has done or said that made me feel uncomfortable with her and her prominence in fandom. She knew this person was 16, she published the ask, and she mockingly disregarded the bloggers’ concerns because of her age. Not only was the blogger attacked, but some of the people who defended her were attacked. The blogs are deleted now so we can just see the aftermath, like this post where Amy’s response to people committing harassment in her name is “ok whatever don’t send hate i guess but maybe she shouldn’t have started anything,” or the discussion of people running to Amy’s defense, her attempts to deny responsibility for any influence she might have, or any responsibility that adults might have to look out for young people on the internet (see also this excellent response as well as this one).

I have a “responsibility” tag with a number of posts discussing the impact of these big Larrie blogs, how the things they say encourage the harassment that they pretend to disavow. But here’s a summary, from this post:

The people who said “when will jay delete” or called her an “attention-seeking weirdo,” who insisted that her grandson didn’t exist and told god knows how many followers that they should ignore any doubts they might feel, they don’t get to act innocent when Jay is harassed on twitter. They don’t get to complain about people discussing their blogs until they stop spreading lies. They don’t get to act like there’s no reason for anyone to object to their behavior, or like they can’t possibly have anything to do with Briana being sent hate constantly when they’re saying shit like this all the fucking time, especially when they make it clear how much they approve of this harassment no matter how often they try to pretend they don’t.

Amy telling her followers that mags was lying is harassment. Amy publishing that message, especially the way she did, directly encouraged the harassment of a 16 year old. And the way Amy and all the other big Larries blog about their theories, leaving off information, pretending to their followers that they know things they don’t, telling their followers to be confident in their lies, making false accusations, and encouraging hatred, all this directly leads to harassment. And it’s made worse by their perpetual refusal to accept any responsibility or ever, in any way, rethink the way they discuss these issues.

And for the record, I know that I, too, am responsible for the impact of my blog, even though I have about 3% as many followers as Amy. But I still try to focus on what people have actually done and said, to avoid personal comments, and to be careful not to target people who don’t already have a large audience.

[a-for-anne-blog-blog]

Privacy Policy Articles Review Pt. I

So the way I am going to review the safety articles is breaking them down in chronological order. Some of them I will break down in the same section for instance article 1 and 11 and you will see why but over all just going right down the line and making a few quick comments. 

I. Not Found or invalid 

 Number 1 and 11 were both invalid so not much I can say about either. 

II. Facebook Selfies

 In the past I have partaken in the selfie culture. When I was younger people used to tell me I could be a model. My mom never wanted me to do that with my life she used to tell me to go into something better like design. When I went through middle school and high school years I struggled with esteem , confidence and security.  I was the black sheep of my family and I fell short in being thought of as intellectual as well as being a social butterfly. So high school, like for most people in different ways, proved to be a challenging time for me. However I always felt good about how I looked. With Facebook being a growing big deal I found a platform. I would do what I called photoshoots, and I should say now that NONE of my photos where inappropriate!! I would pick out my best dresses or jeans and a t-shirt do my hair and makeup and think of different themes or places and angles I could take a photo. I would play with photo editors and their effects and would sort out good photos from bad ones. I would post them as profile pictures or in an album as art. Whenever I would show my mother or family they would say that they were beautiful photographs but too much that I looked like a model on the cover of a magazine and not like a friendly normal a 16 year old. This trend of “the album” fluxed over the course of middle, high school and college. Until one day I just got sick of all the photos of myself and I cleaned out my hard drive and can estimate that from the start of doing this till now that I had over 5,000 pictures of myself ! That is completely narcissistic and disgusting! I got “the album” down to 100 selfies just last year or the year before. I used to have these photos on Facebook until I thought of the same points that this article shared and was finding odd people trying to follow/ friend me and so I removed all my selfies from Facebook and the very few I had on Instagram. It used to be a thing for me to post a yearly album on Facebook (Christmas, holidays events etc)  but I don’t do this either. In fact I have delete over 50% of the photos I had on Facebook and only have my tagged album, road trip, and one random year I never deleted with few pictures in it. These last photos from Facebook are still on my memory stick but off my computer and social media. Although its hard to say whether Facebook still has record or what have you of all those photos, I can say that from my side of things, they are gone and that Facebook or any other social media platform will be getting very few of them in the future.  My point of bring my own perspective in this is although it was cool to play and learn about editors and do these “shoots” they in themselves were empty, an unhealthy seeking for attention or competition or justification of my worth and ultimately annoying to people around me who didn’t relate to them. And who only knows what effect that they have had on my character! Pictures should be reflection on moments, time spent with people , in new places or at home at the holidays. We shouldn’t always be the subject. And people like myself shouldn’t look to a photograph to feel beautiful or good enough or empowered but rather learn that these things grow naturally from within a person and who each of us are individually, where we come from (God). So not only is the selfie culture real, but in my opinion I see it as unhealthy, narcissistic , annoying, empty and as this article points out dangerous. It is important to really think about what we are trying to say with a photograph and likewise where we post them.

III. Video Sharing 

I thought this one raised an interesting alternative with using Shutterfly or creating more private settings but my rule of thumb is once its out there no matter where it is its out there. So if you feel in your gut nervous about putting something online you probably shouldn’t put it online. Either have a party and showcase the video at your house or if you have family that lives far away you could send it by mail but in doing so you are just as much at risk for someone opening up and stealing your mail. So if it is a matter of international viewing you have to weight the pros and cons and maybe look into shutter fly or more secure settings as the article suggests. In general its seems especially with my generation you get to your teens and 20s and all the sudden film becomes interesting to experiment with so most do and some of us post about stupid things or not in a savvy way as described in the articles I mean I can relate to this somewhat having two years ago done a challenge on youtube where I posted a video everyday for 365 days and a lot of them I was hanging out in a few I was waking up from a nap or falling asleep (which seems like no big deal to me but sickly something else to someone else) only to find in the analytics that this is why some people where watching my videos and even though it was generally speaking innocent thats when  I realized that somethings are better left unfilmed or unsaid and innocence can be turned into something else quickly. So need less to say I wound up deleting half of that challenge and lost like 2 or 3 subscribers which I was like good haha. However I also kept half of the videos that my family says are heartwarming to watch when they are away. Needless to say one way or another the videos are out there and now a year of my life is owned by google/ youtube so really thinking about that makes you rethink film , its purpose, your own decisions and what you post in general! In the future I do think about playing with film again but being little more logical in my posting for sure! 

IV.  US News post 

This one gave some good advice ! Due to the last technology class I took, I have been more aware of checking my privacy settings, where I am and my surroundings, activity, and friends. I also deactivated to my knowledge my phone’s GPS but if I haven’t that will be one thing I will do when I am not traveling (90% of the time) because I think it is creepy that people track you and that is actually one of my biggest complaints about the iPhone and new technology like this is that this is a thing! If I don’t like a photo posted I am also pretty assertive about asking …demanding it to be taken down. I thought that watermarking was interesting I never heard of that before so that was cool to learn about and I would try to do that if called for. 

[digitalmark18-blog]

Social media managers in newsrooms face extreme stress

New Post has been published on https://britishdigitalmarketingnews.com/social-media-managers-in-newsrooms-face-extreme-stress/

Social media managers in newsrooms face extreme stress

Like many people in society today, we know we spend too much time online – but as social media managers it is our job to be there. Social media managers, a position that was unheard of a decade ago, experience tremendous stress.

Social media can be a toxic place – especially for those of us who work in that space. Angry users on social media seem to forget that a human being is behind the brand’s account they are screaming at or the story they are criticising.

At the most recent Online News Association conference in Austin, Texas, the United States, I asked social media editors, “How do you manage your mental health while managing social media?”

The universal response was, “Wow. That’s a really good question.” I quickly realised that we share experiences, anxieties and coping mechanisms, up to and including check-ins with mental health professionals.

We spend countless hours online not just scheduling tweets, but also sharing and reading comments, crunching the analytics and creating reports on audience reach and growth.

We relish seeing our stories go viral, prompting lots of discussion and increasing our followers. But it’s a lonely place – and often frightening. Our professional profiles, either public or private, often lead to harassment and abusive online attacks.

Best and worst of the Internet

Social media managers see the best and the worst of the Internet. It is hard not to feel it personally. “It is designed to hurt,” said Tracey Spencer, a psychologist in Washington, DC, whom I called for advice. “That’s what bullies do. These people are projecting their own feelings and insecurities, and likely don’t know how to be empathetic. What they are saying has nothing to do with you.”

So how do those of us in this small but growing profession keep our balance and sanity, while still doing our work?

Erica Williams Simon, head of the Creator’s Lab at Snapchat, told me she gets “hate mail and hate tweets just because I am a black woman. People will attack you.” Walks, prayer or meditation and art help her cope, she said. She also mentioned that Snapchat offers great benefits for its employees, including generous time off and free mental health services.

Simon does not engage on hot topics, is careful about what she retweets and does not allow herself to get drawn in to toxic debates. “The Internet isn’t my life. I’m responsible with how I use my voice online. It’s just like real life. You don’t join every discussion or say everything that you think in real life.”

She also suggested that colleagues feed themselves good content after a particularly gruelling day online, adding: “Remember that you’re seeing the worst of people, and look for the good ones.”

Time off to recuperate

When faced with a tough day, Bobby Blanchard, social media editor at The Texas Tribune, said his managers support taking time off for mental health. One of his tips was setting all notifications on his cellphone to “Do Not Disturb” after leaving work – a tip Gene Park, social media editor at The Washington Post, also shared.

“My colleagues are watching me, and I have to set a good example for self-care and healthy work habits. I don’t want them to feel like they have to always be on, because they see me doing it,” he said. The Texas Tribune social media team also uses Slack messenger and has a channel devoted to reporting, discussing and blocking trolls from their accounts.

“Moving to London was a wake-up call,” said Sari Zeidler, editorial director of growth at Quartz, a site that specialises in news from Africa and India. Her manager was upset when she emailed ideas to employees after hours, she said. “It’s so different from the American way, and it helped me to create efficiency at my job here,” Zeidler said.

“I realised I was working too much and not unplugging.” Her advice: Set daily, manageable goals and block people who post hate speech or any kind of harassment.

Still, even if you block offenders and delete comments, you can’t unread their words. The insults and occasional racial slurs linger long after you log off. Spencer reminded me to “try to stop internalising offensive comments” and to make sure to focus on “real” life. She recommends setting parameters around when you work and when you sign off. “In any job you have, you have to make time for yourself.”

I admit that when it comes to social media, I sometimes operate on autopilot. I don’t have my notifications set for “Do Not Disturb” after work. I often check comments, retweet things and check what’s trending on Twitter when I can’t sleep. Maybe I have to rethink that balance.

“There is only so much creative juice that you have,” said Blanchard of The Texas Tribune. “Part of being good at my job means logging off.” For those of us in (and out of) the profession, I think that’s the best advice. – Tribune News Service/Kaiser Health News/Chaseedaw Giles

Source: https://www.star2.com/health/2018/11/04/mental-health-newsroom-social-media/