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messrsrarchives · 29 days ago

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hi robyn!!

I just read your post about complacency in fandom and wanted to say that if you ever feel the need to leave this fandom, join a new one or just yap about fanculture and fan fiction as a whole, I'll still support you and your content just as much.

Because you are so correct. With the recent hype around the reboot, a large portion of this fandom seems to have shown its true colours. I joined this fandom a long, long time ago (like legit 15 years ago) and had to have a real reckoning with myself in the aftermath of jkr beginning her crusade against trans people. I decided to stay at the time, because the general tenor of fandom seemed to be ferociously anti-jkr and trans inclusive. I still felt that guilt for remaining, but I honestly think it would be bad if I didn't, it kept me reevaluating my place here and working to be as trans inclusive and ethical in my fandom participation as I possibly could.

There were always those few people who still went to the parks, bought merch etc but they seemed to be largely outside of the fanfiction community and just fans of the original books/films. The people who then dipped their toes into the fanfiction community were swiftly educated on how to ethically participate in fandom, enjoy fanfiction without profiting JKR and not engage with official hp content/ accounts.

However I think on platforms such as tiktok, the two groups have begun to merge, without people learning or respecting the culture of the fan fiction community as a whole. This also happens on booktok, with people recommending fanfiction as 'books', selling bound fanfics to people completely unaware even of what fanfiction is or that they can read it free on ao3, and just completely bypassing the fan fiction community and its etiquette. Now, when I engage with any account on (particularly) tiktok about hp content, I worry that they engage uncritically with hp and aren't above financially supporting jkr. Often now I find I'm right, and if that's not a damning indictment of the state of fandom, I don't know what is.

You and other similar content creators have played a large part in educating newcomers on how to ethically engage with hp fanfiction, which contributed to the safety I felt in fandom before, but I feel like the makeup and tenor of the fandom has changed significantly and has been changing for a while now. I feel like we are being outnumbered and our work undone by vast swathes of people, (who unapologetically engage with jkr's work and buy official HP content), joining the fan fiction community and completely ignoring the culture of the space that they have joined. And that new flood of people seems now to have given license to a more quiet group who were here before (and only performatively anti-jkr), to begin buying official merch and hyping the reboot more freely again. It's sad to know that the fandom I felt safe in might not have really been as safe as it purported to be.

Before, I also feel that just engaging with character tags and fandom specific content etc on Tumblr or tiktok wasn't so harmful as it's becoming, because the fandom stance as a whole was so anti-jkr that just by increasing the popularity of those tags you weren't necessarily putting money in jkr's pocket, but I'm not so sure about that now. If the fandom culture shifts as a whole to one that's complacent with financially profiting jkr, it's just the truth that increasing its visibility is harmful.

That's the issue I'm now grappling with myself. I can do everything I can to minimise my impact, not buy the books, not stream the movies, no merch, no studio tour etc, but just existing in this fandom now feels damaging. I now regularly donate as much as I can to trans charities, gofundmes and top-surgery funds just to minimise the impact of my engaging with this content, but unless the general culture of the fandom changes soon, I might also have to leave.

I feel that's kind of sad, because it's never going to stop those who support jkr or frankly don't care about the lives of trans people from being in this fandom, I'll just be conceding a little bit more of this space to those groups of people, but I'm just not sure what to do anymore.

So thank you, you've been such a true and honest light in this community and if you feel you have to leave, I'll follow you to whatever greener pastures lie ahead. <3

love,

a friend

i would say good morning but its 5pm and i've just woken up (we don't talk about it) but HI !

summed it up PERFECTLY. no notes. the way tiktok works compared to other fandom spaces is so broad and it leads to so much overlap between fandom and generic fans, and that can be such an issue when it comes to retaining fandom values.

and yes !! i don't know if i explained it too well but it's less *my* space, and more the act of posting? especially when i see people post about the reboot, check their account, and it says "follow back". i think it's the fancasts that did it. it's the fact people blow up the fandom in random comment sections and celebrities comment sections and draw people to the fandom that's like,,, hi. we don't do this. because when you go into a comment section that's not part of this fandom and talk about the marauders, people won't think "oh they hate jkr and engage ethically" they'll just think "hm there's a part of harry potter i missed!" and start engaging. (not to mention the fact andrew is literally pro-trans and now gets asked about this universe in interviews where he can't just say "fuck jkr", he HAS to act complacent and UGH)

idk it's tough. it's been extra hard for months for me and i've always felt that guilt, but as i watch more people i considered friends support her, or just watch tiktok lean that way, it's no longer guilt for being in that space and more guilt for *providing* for that space.

OH last point because i said no notes but i can't shut up:

tiktok is not a platform for long-form discussion like tumblr it. here i read and reblog so many intense discussions and see so many critical thoughts in reblogs and replies and i think "yeah, we know how to address things", but tiktok is built for short and snappy videos. it's not built for the discussions i've been having over there whether thats jkr or etiquette or discourse or hierarchies, it's not Built for it.

which has been fine because i talk because i enjoy it, but i stopped enjoying it when it felt like i was educating people on a platform that isn't built for that.

ANYWAY !!!! lots of big discussions here and i agree with alllll of this. fandom has been a lot less community-based for a while now and i think i'm going to have fun building a new one or just sitting down with my people <3

#asks #robyn is ranting sorry

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lovelynim · 2 years ago

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Maid Day ...at the Dawn Winery

Genshin Impact - Diluc x Tartaglia

A/N: Just a silly idea I came up with to feed my needs, don't mind me

Summary: The Dawn Winery comes up with a special event to celebrate the Maid Day

Word count: 1037 words

“Thanks for coming,” Childe said to the last couple of clients leaving the tavern, with a bright smile and a cheerful voice. When the door closed, however, it took him a mere second to drop the act, letting out a tired groan.

“Congratulations, you did it,” Diluc muttered, praising the ginger under a chuckle as he dried off another glass.

“Why don't I feel like you mean it?” Childe snapped, turning around to face the winery owner and allowing him to take another look at his outfit. A black maid uniform, with the skirt stopping barely over his knees. His chest seemed a little stuffed inside those clothes, but managed to fit in somehow. Completing his outfit, a fancy pair of shoes and black stockings, going all the way up to his thighs.

“I do, thought,” the redheaded continued, watching the other man with the corner of his eyes as a slight smile took place on his lips. “You did a good job in the end.”

“Of course I did!” The harbinger said proudly, taking a seat in the balcony next to Diluc. “And it would’ve been even better if it weren’t for those… ugh, accidents.”

“You mean ‘If you weren’t so ticklish?” Diluc teased, noticing how his comment managed to bring some redness to the man’s face.

The Dawn Winery was hosting some kind of charity event, offering a special service during the day and donating part of its profit. Among the special staff, there was Tartaglia, in his maid uniform. The harbinger wasn’t sure how he let himself get into that situation, but Diluc could be pretty convincing at times and, well, how could say no? It was for a good cause, after all…

Among the clients, Zhongli, Kaeya, Venti, Albedo and even the traveler decided to visit the winery and make their contributions to the event (two of them were simply making their regular visit, but let’s not focus on that). Once they got there, they couldn’t help but be surprised, but pleased, when the one serving their drinks was none other than Childe himself in such a special attire.

Having shared some intimacy with those men before, however, turned out to be Childe’s doom. As if shameless compliments and comments weren’t enough teasing for the harbinger, their clients - specially Kaeya and Venti - kept constantly messing him up with sudden pokes whenever he came into their reach, gently tracing the back of his legs whenever he was picking up the glasses at their table or even squeezing his sides just for the sake of their amusement.

If any other of his clients decided to treat his staff like that, Diluc would have already kicked them out for such disrespect. Truth to be told, he honestly considered kicking Venti and Kaeya out, but ended up allowing them to have fun with his recently hired maid as Childe seemed way too comfortable with their teasing, almost as if liking such attention.

Back to the present, now just with the two of them left, the fatui was being confronted by the owner, who quietly watched him constantly squeal and yelp under the ticklish teasing through his shift.

“Huh? Me? Come on, I know you are just jealous because you weren’t the one placing your hands on me ~”

“Oh, please,” Diluc said, shaking his head, “you are not going to try to deny it, are you? Besides…”

Placing the cloth and the glass in his hands down, Diluc walked around the balcony. Childe followed him with his eyes and, for some reason, he felt his heart starting to beat faster with every step Diluc took. Before he could think of his way out, the ginger was cornered, leaning into the balcony as the redhead towered over him.

“If anyone here is jealous, it’s you because I wasn’t the one giving you attention,” Diluc muttered, grinning down at his partner.

The rookie maid swallowed dry, biting his inner lip. “Y-you are scaring me, master Diluc…” Childe said, half jokingly, half nervously. His eyes kept switching between the redhead’s face and his hands.

Letting his words fall dead on silence, DIluc placed his leg between Childe’s, slightly lifting his skirt and revealing some more of his thighs. And without giving him a chance to protest, Diluc began to dig into his sides, pushing him to the point where he was almost laying down on the balcony.

“H-hehehey! T-that cheahating!!” Childe giggled, lowering both his arms as he tried to pry the redhead’s hands out of his body. With his legs intertwined with Diluc’s, he couldn’t squirm much or he would bring both of them to the ground.

“Is it, now? You seemed to like it when the clients messed up with you,” Diluc continued to tease the ginger, his words coming out a little muffled as his recently hired maid tried to push his face away.

“S-shuhuhut up! StahAHahap it! ~”

Using that opening, Diluc’s fingers trailed up higher, now tickling Childe’s ribs while focusing on his side with his other hand. The fatui’s laughter rose up a pitch, trying to bring his legs up and curl up to protect himself, but being easily held down by the winery owner. “What? You don’t like it now?”

Childe wished he could simply crawl out of his skin. His mouth cracked up in a smile as his teeth sank down into his lip, trying his best to stiff his laughter as Diluc tickled his torso with ease.

“Cohohome on..!” Childe whined, managing to form a clear speech again once Diluc slowed down, just fluttering his fingers over his waist.

“Sure… just because you did a good job today,” Diluc muttered, grinning as he finally lifted his hands. “You can change clothes in the room upstairs.”

“A-ah…” Childe gasped, slowly pushing himself up until he was standing on his own feet again, patting his skirt to fix it. “Hm, change myself?”

“Yes, you can take out the unifo-” and before he could finish, Childe took a step forward, now it was him cornering Diluc against a table.

“What do you mean, master Diluc? I’m not quite done with my work at the winery,” the harbinger smiled, winking at the owner.

“H-huh? Wait, Childe, noHOHOH!!”

#genshin impact #genshin impact tickling #maid day #diluc ragnvindr #childe #tartaglia #chiluc #lee!childe #ticklish!childe #ler!dliuc #childe in a maid dress #because i say so

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alexlwrites · 2 years ago

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𝑱𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒌𝒐𝒐𝒌'𝒔 𝑱𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒂𝒍

✿𝑷𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: Jungkook x Reader

✿ 𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: The one where Jungkook, a second year student in the Auror Academy, keeps a journal to vent about his unsuccessful attempts at wooing you.

✿ 𝑻𝒂𝒈𝒔: crack, humor, romance, Harry Potter Au

𝑨/𝑵: This is a Harry Potter AU but you don’t have to read Harry Potter to understand it. If you have any questions just let me know!

°•. ✿ .•°

(<<< part one)

November 5th, 10am

There are a few things I have previously done in my life that I believe could’ve added to the cosmic debt I am now paying, such as:

-Telling Jimin that “top me” is a muggle slang for “be my friend” and watching as he asked people to top him.

-Stealing leaves from Professor Sprout’s garden to figure out which ones were smokable and therefore profitable (up until I ended up with a third nipple from some hacky hocus-pocus weed).

-Jinxing Namjoon. Twice. But I stand by that. 10/10 would do it again.

All of the above and many countless other things are finally catching up to me. Maybe I should get my shit together, do charity work or something. Maybe if I had actually helped Taehyung with his Divination homework like I said I would instead of just making up all the shitty ways to die written in the stars, karma wouldn’t manifest itself in the shape of first years kicking my fucking ass in hand to hand combat without being allowed to fight back.

“Lovely demonstration on the effects of a throat punch, Jungkook” Coach Jin said, clapping his hands.

“I think the name is self-explanatory enough” I replied, voice cracking from the aforementioned punched throat.

“You never know”.

Coach Jin hates me. I am 100% sure of that. The reasoning is unclear and I’m honestly afraid to find out.

In the interest of maintaining myself less punched, I should invest some amount of energy to get him to like me.

November 5th, 11am

No energy was required to find out why that motherfucker didn’t like me. Now his dislike is fully reciprocated. I hope he chokes on his own pretty, juicy lips.

See, what happened was that one of the first years had gotten pretty carried away by the prospect of punching my pretty face and knocked me straight out, sending my karma-striken ass to the Infirmary, ears ringing and nose bleeding.

Now, I repeat that I am not the most romantic dude on earth (but I’m trying, okay? I even started reading Twilight to pick up some Hot Tips) but when all the signs are pointing towards that one person, who are we to go against fate? How can we spit on the forces of the universe like that? On Trelawney’s weed-filled legacy?

How can I not interpret Y/N doing an internship at the Academy Infirmary as the highest, clearest sign that we are meant to be? I am a student at the academy prone to causing and suffering accidents and she is a healer! The only way this could be more perfect was if she was a 100 years old vampire and I were a very pale high school student.

But alas, every great love story has its Jacob.

November 5th, 12pm

In retrospect, I do realize that my metaphor was flawed, cause if Jin was Jacob, he would’ve been into me, Bella - also why did I put myself as Bella and not Edward? - and if Jin was indeed into me he sure had a very weird way of showing it, completely ignoring me bleeding to probable death to flirt with the nurse, who I had claimed as my wife through the very legal power of “dibs”.

“Hi, Y/N” he said, leaning on my bed, hand resting on my bruised leg, making me whimper in pain embarrassingly, but also in a very manly way.

“Hello, Professor Kim” she said, professionally, not even bothering to look at him while tittering with her supplies.

“You can just call me Jin, you know. I’m only a couple years older than you.”

“That would hardly be appropriate” she answered, swatting his arm away from my bed. I think she said something else, but I honestly couldn’t hear shit when she cradled my face between her soft (so soft!) hands and for a split, dream-like second I thought she was going to kiss me.

“You shouldn’t let your students get so carried away.” she ended up saying “Poor Mr. Jeon. Look at him!”

Damn.

I guess I did look kind of pitiful, all sweaty, bloody and bruised.

Probably looked like I’ve been french kissed by a bludger.

Coach Jin shrugged “He doesn’t look any worse than usual to me.”

The disrespect?

Before I had the chance to tell him very maturely to bugger the fuck off, Y/N stepped in “Then maybe you should be my next patient so I could get your eyes checked” she snapped and maybe those punches hit me harder than I initially assumed or maybe there was just something fundamentally wrong with me (place your bets!) but I thought that was very hot of her. Specially when she then proceeded to completely ignore Coach Jin’s presence and turn to me “How are you feeling, Mr. Jeon?”

“You can call me Jungkook, you know.” I mumbled. At least there was no stutter this time, so I would count it as a successful interaction had she not proceeded to ignore what I said too.

“I’m going to give you an ointment for that bruise and it should disappear in a couple hours. Luckily nothing seems to be broken, but I would avoid any sort of exercises or tiring activities for the day.” she said as she ushered me out of the room with a funky looking jar thrusted into my hands “And hey” she called as I was about to leave the room with a very sour looking Coach Jin “take care of yourself, Jungkook.”

WELL.

WOULD YOU LOOK AT THAT.

Before I could fully express my happiness, Y/N closed the door to my face, but not even the hardwood hitting my bloody nose could wipe away my smile as I turned to my sullen coach.

“Whatever” he grumbled “Don’t think you’re off the hook. You’re still with me tomorrow, Jeon.”

Bugger.

I guess if worse comes to worst, at least Y/N can still look after me.

Actually, that’s not a bad idea at all…

°•. ✿ .•°

Jungkook's Journal taglist is open <3

[Permanent taglist: @imknewattis ; @dreamamubarak ; @onlythebest-106 ; @betysotelo18 ; @havetaeminforbreakfast ; @uno7 ; @chimchimmarie ; @anaya123world ; @namjooningelsewhere ]

#jungkook fanfic #jeon jungguk #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you #jeon jungkook #bts fanfic #bts x reader

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imaginesandbandfiction · 2 years ago

Text

Story of Our Life

A Harry Styles Imagine

Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: None

A/N: This is something a little different that was inspired by a dream I had where I was singing Story of My Life with 1D in a car... Also, I made some cover art on procreate plz don't judge my mediocre art skills lmao. Hope you like it!!!!!

Masterlist

Excerpts from

STORY OF OUR LIFE

Y/N Styles

To Louis, the best chauffeur I’ve ever had.

To Liam, who keeps us all sane. Steady on, mate.

To Zayn, who always offers a shoulder to cry on (and a cigarette).

To Niall, the king of late-night chats (and snacks).

To Harry, for everything, forever.

Introduction by Harry Styles

Before she was my wife, Y/N Styles was Y/N Y/L/N. We met in 2011, six months before we would be setting out on the Up All Night tour. Even though I had been on TV, in recording studios, and performed live on the X Factor Live Tour 2011, I was still just a shy kid from Holmes Chapel who couldn’t quite believe his luck. I think I spent that whole year in a state of disbelief, afraid that at any moment, someone would tell me that it was all a joke and I wasn’t very good at singing, actually. Every time I took a shower, I half-expected Ashton Kutcher to jump out at me from behind the shower curtain. Y/N, on the other hand, walked into the conference room at Columbia Records, sat down at the head of the table, folded her arms across her chest, and asked us each, individually, if we had read Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows and, if so, how did we feel about it? Immediately, I knew that this girl was going to be someone special.

Her dad, Greg Y/L/N, was going to be our tour manager. When it was time for the label to put a team together, he was at the top of the list: a goofy dad with a daughter around our age who had toured with some of the biggest musicians of the 90s. He was the perfect choice for a bunch of kids who didn’t really know what they were doing: industry experience to make sure the day-to-day operations went smoothly, and the paternal instinct to protect us as best he could (we called him Papa Bear, which he pretended to hate, but we all knew he secretly loved it).

We grew up together, spent months on end traveling the world, learning algebra on private planes and sneaking out of hotel rooms to wander foreign cities in the middle of the night. Fast forward to today. While Y/N was pregnant with Willa, our second child, she spent the whole third trimester on bed rest. Eventually, she got so bored that she scrolled all the way back on iCloud. Our older daughter, Hazel, was fascinated by the pictures of me and the band, and Y/N spent hours recounting our days on tour. I told her that she should write a book, but she refused at first. We have enough money, she said. People will think I’m making a cash grab. I told her that was bollocks, but if she really felt that way, she could donate all the profits to charity. It’s perfect, really, I said. The 20-year anniversary of One Direction is coming up, and it would be cool to give the fans a peek behind the scenes. Really, there’s no one better than you, darling, because you know the real us. She agreed, but only if all five of us were okay with it, and if all of the proceeds could go to The Trevor Project. So really, it’s actually me you should be thanking for convincing her to do this in the first place.

Anyways, here it is. The Story of Our Life: Growing Up With the World’s Biggest Boy Band, written by my amazing wife, Y/N Styles.

Chapter 5

Out of all the One Direction boys, Louis was the first one to get his driver's license in America. He spent the few months leading up to the Where We Are tour with his girlfriend in California, and wanted to buy a fancy car to drive her around in. Hence, the license. So, when the tour made its way to North America, he somehow managed to convince my dad and the security team to let him drive us from the hotel to the venue a few times. Of course, the windows were tinted (and we were not allowed to open them), we were surrounded by a security detail, and there was always a bodyguard in the backseat, but it didn’t matter.

On the night of the second show in Detroit, we all piled into a tricked-out Toyota Sienna, the best minivan on the market in 2011. Louis and Liam sat up front, I was squished between Harry and Niall in the middle, and Zayn and the bodyguard sat in the way back. We had the radio blasting and were singing along to some absolute bangers, like Party Rock Anthem and Super Bass, when the first few notes of Story of My Life started playing. Louis groaned and reached over to change the station, but I leaned forwards and slapped his hand out of the way before he could, turning the volume up a few notches.

“Written in these walls are the stories that I can’t explain,” I sang along with Harry’s voice, turning to look at him with a mischievous smirk. He was mouthing along but bit his lip as soon as I caught him. Liam piped up with his part and I shook my head, laughing.

“Do you guys seriously only ever sing your parts?” I asked. Next to me, I felt Niall shrug.

“Feels wrong to sing someone else’s, even off stage,” he said, before chiming in on the background vocals as Zayn jumped in on his part.

“Well, you should do it anyway, just for fun.” Liam turns around and lifts his eyebrows in a silent challenge. Harry and Niall jumped in, and soon we were all belting out the words to every part.

When the final chorus came up, I turned to rest my head on Harry’s shoulder, singing his part back to him. He was usually the shameless one, but his cheeks were tinted pink and he stopped singing for a few seconds. His green eyes were wide, but they never once left my own. I felt his chest rise and fall in a deep, steadying breath before he began singing again.

From that moment on, Story of My Life was our song. Every time they performed it, he turned towards the side of the stage during the last chorus, where I sang along. On the rare occasions that I sat in the audience, his eyes always managed to find mine. We sang lines to each other all the time. Our favorite thing to do, much to everyone else’s dismay, was yell Zayn’s pre-chorus to each other from across a room.

“And I’ll be gone, gone, tonight,” one of us would start.

“The ground beneath my feet is open wide,” the other would respond.

“The way that I’ve been holding on too tight,” the first person would say, before we both shouted, “With nothing in betweeeeeeeen!” That line was always the loudest, and we always dragged out the last syllable until we couldn’t breathe anymore.

Chapter 9

When Harry’s solo album dropped, I was in class, taking my Algebra 101 final. My test-taking nerves were multiplied tenfold by the fact that I knew people were listening to it right now, and I wasn’t. We had kept in touch after One Direction broke up, mostly over text but occasionally, when he was in LA, he came to my house to have dinner with me and my Grandma (and Dad, if he was home).

I listened to it all the way through on the drive back home to Pasadena after I finished my exam, and as soon as I pulled into the driveway, I texted him.

I signed up for a presale code, and refreshed my laptop continuously for five straight minutes in order to get tickets for his LA show. Harry was furious with me. When I texted him that I was officially coming to the show, he called me in the middle of a meeting with his tour team to yell at me. Something along the lines of, “I put you on the VIP list, you dumbass! And invites to the afterparty were just sent out yesterday!”

To be fair, I just wanted to support my friend, and to this day I still feel uncomfortable asking for free tickets from anyone when I have the means to pay for them. I think it’s all the guilt from five years of attending One Direction concerts for free. But anyways, that next fall, I found myself backstage at the Greek Theater with a VIP badge around my neck, feeling intense deja vu as security led me to Harry’s dressing room.

“Y/N!” He yelled as soon as the door opened. I had no time to react; I was nearly knocked over by the force of his hug. His mom and sister were there, too, and I was passed around for more hugs before settling next to Harry on the couch.

“So, how’s it going? How’s school?” he asked, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. That’s one of the things I love most about Harry; no matter how long it’s been since he’s seen someone, he always picks back up like no time has passed. He is scary good at keeping up with what everyone else is doing, even when his own life

“Kicking my ass already and it’s only been three weeks,” I said with a chuckle. “But better than last year, that’s for sure!” Harry’s brows furrowed and he waited expectantly. “Did I not tell you that my original roommate was psycho?”

“No, I don’t think that’s come up before.” I pulled up a photo on my phone and handed it over to him without a word, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen his eyes wider than they were in that moment.

“Holy shit,” she said.

“I wanna see!” Gemma whined, leaning across the coffee table to snatch the phone from him. “Oh my god, Mum, look!” She handed the phone to Anne, who frowned down at it.

“This was your dorm?”

“For all of three days, yes,” you answered. “I’m not sure what creeped me out more, the life-sized cardboard cutout of Harry watching my every move, or the fact that she threatened to blackmail me if I didn’t introduce her to you.” Harry was doubled over with laughter with tears welling up in the corners of his eyes.

“What are the chances of you, of all people, rooming with a crazy One Direction fan in college?” he asked, struggling to breathe enough to support his vocal chords.

“The school investigated and they found an invoice for a private investigator on her computer in a folder with a bunch of my personal information and photos of me that looked like they were taken from behind bushes and trash cans. Apparently, she gave him that paparazzi photo from the week we were in London during On the Road Again and he was able to track me down.”

“He was able to figure out your identity from that photo?” I nodded, and Harry looked impressed, yet mildly disturbed. “She must’ve paid a fortune.” The photo in question features all five members of One Direction on their way into the O2 arena, and in the background, you can see the blurry back of my head as I slipped into the back door ahead of them.

When it was time for Harry to get ready, a security guard led Anne, Gemma, and I to the VIP section and we settled in for the show. He killed it on stage, and it was great to see him back in his element, joking with the fans between songs and waving to everyone he made eye contact with. He performed What Makes You Beautiful and the cheers were so loud, even in the small-theater setting, that I knew I would probably have trouble hearing tomorrow.

“Alright, now normally I’d go straight into Kiwi, but there’s someone special in the audience today and this next song means a lot to the both of us, and she was the one who told me to sing all of the parts even though it feels weird, I hope you’ll forgive me for making you wait a few more minutes,” he said with a smirk, knowing that no one was going to complain about an extra song. My smile widened and Anne wrapped an arm around me, squeezing my shoulder, to acknowledge how special this moment was about to be. Just like old times, Harry looked straight at me as the intro music started to play.

“Written in these walls are the stories that I can’t explain,” he began, and immediately tears started welling up behind my eyes. I joined in, leaning my head on Anne’s shoulder for support. When he got to the second pre-chorus, he yelled out “And I’ll be gone, gone, tonight!” and held out his mic for the audience to sing the next line, but I caught an almost-imperceptible wink as he smiled up at me and I knew that he could care less if anyone else chimed in.

“The fire beneath my feet is burning bright,” Anne, Gemma, and I screamed, hoping that we were loud enough for him to pick our voices out of the crowd.

He sang the next line, and so did the audience, but I kept my mouth shut and joined in on the last line. He dragged out “between” so long that he had to jump back in on “I take her home.” I was the only one still singing along with him at that point, and the audience let out confused laughter, looking back and forth trying to figure out why he wasn’t moving on yet.

Chapter 11

We’ve never talked about how we got together, and once the gossip magazines found out that I was the daughter of One Direction’s former tour manager, they just filled in the blanks themselves. I try not to read those things, but I do remember seeing a few headlines like “CHILDHOOD SWEETHEARTS RECONNECTED!” over that grainy paparazzi photo of us in Holmes Chapel before the Manchester Love on Tour stops. Others spun the fact that I was doing PR on the tour into a fake “HARRY STYLES KISSES EMPLOYEE” scandal, and it just spiraled out of control from there. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

When the pandemic hit, I was at home in Pasadena with my dad and grandma. We had no other “bubble” because my grandma was immunocompromised. Needless to say, I got very bored very quickly. It got to the point that I would cycle through the contacts on my phone, Facetiming everyone in alphabetical order by last name until someone picked up. Harry was one of the only people who answered every single time. We ended up calling each other almost every day, sometimes to chat, or just to have someone there, in the background, while we went about our days. He was with his band, working on what would eventually become Harry’s House, and I spent many days listening to them work through different lyric and melody combinations while curled up in my childhood bedroom with my work laptop. He even interrupted a Zoom meeting I was in, once, excited to play part of “Music for a Sushi Restaurant” for me.

I was working remotely for a PR firm, after graduating college in 2020, my options were limited and, in the end, the place only gave me an offer because they worked with Columbia Records and knew my dad. I mostly wrote copy about movies to be put on Wikipedia or IMDB, which was super boring, so Harry seriously saved my life by letting me listen in on his studio sessions, or to the audio of whatever show he was watching and his commentary.

By the time he was able to start prepping for Love on Tour, I was working at the firm’s office building on Sunset, just about ready to quit my job and sell foot pics online.

“Come on tour with me,” he said, (seemingly) impulsively, during one of our Facetime sessions in which he patiently listened to me complain about how Mark from accounting wouldn’t stop coming over to my desk to “chat” every hour on the hour.

“What?” I answered, laughing a little.

“Seriously, Y/N, it’ll be just like old times! We can race on the dolleys they use to bring the speakers in, and I’ll even let you win this time.” I rolled my eyes.

“It’s not really winning, then, is it?”

“Okay, fine, I won’t let you win. But I am serious, Y/N. You should join me on tour.”

“What am I supposed to do, just follow you around the world like some sad, desperate groupie?”

“I mean, you are a bit sad and desperate.” I flipped him off, to which he responded by cackling with laughter.

“I’m sad because my job sucks, and desperate to get away from Mark, not to get into your pants.”

“Well, you wouldn’t be my mistress, you’d be doing PR for the tour, obviously.” Harry’s cheeks flushed with the slightest hint of pink,

“Well, maybe you should have led with that!” I started laughing, too, and it took a while for either of us to be able to speak again.

“Okay, sorry, I’ll start over.” He took a deep breath to calm his giggles, but still couldn’t manage to keep a straight face. “Y/N Y/L/N, I would like to formally request that you join me as my PR Manager for Love on Tour. My publicist is about to give birth, like, any day now so she obviously can’t go gallivanting around the world. Really, you’d be doing me a favor, and who better than someone who already has my dressing room requests memorized since half of them are actually yours.”

“You still have the same dressing room requests?” I gave him a skeptical look.

“Old habits die hard.” He shrugged. “And even though I don’t drink Diet Coke, having it in the fridge makes it feel like you’re there with me.” The pink was now red and I bit my lip to keep myself from smiling too wide.

“Alright, Mr. Styles, you have a deal.”

Like he said, old habits die hard, so even though we were now adults and my dad wasn’t on tour with us, we still fell into our old routines. Back in the day, I was never allowed to be alone in a room with one of the boys, but we had our ways around it. Usually by walking through the hallways of the floor of the hotel everyone was staying on, checking in with the guards stationed at either side on every loop. So while we could have hung out in our rooms, more often than not, we walked through the hotel hallways in circles just like we used to.

The night before the Pittsburgh show, Harry showed up at my door at 10pm with a bag of sour gummy worms.

“It’s not Haribo, but it’s close enough,” he said with a shrug, flashing me his trademark “Harry Styles” grin. And just like that, we were off to wear a hole in the carpet, or so I thought. We hadn’t even made it through one full loop before he pulled me through a random door marked “Employees Only” and dragged me up three flights of stairs.

“Are you taking me somewhere private so you can murder me?” I asked as we trudged through the dirty stairwell.

“Something like that,” he answered. But when we reached the top, he opened another door and we were on the roof.

The view was gorgeous, the moon was bright and cast a cool glow on the Pittsburgh skyline. I turned to Harry with wide eyes.

“Scoped it out earlier,” he said with a sheepish smile on his lips. “Just thought we could use a change of scenery.”

“It’s perfect,” I said, reaching out to squeeze his hand in thanks. “As much as I love hotel hallways, this is better.”

We sat on the edge of the roof, dangling our legs over the top of the building next door, and passed the bag of gummy worms back and forth as we talked. We were out there for so long that my eyelids started to get heavy and our conversation slowed down. I leaned my head on his shoulder and he wrapped his arm around me, huddling closer for warmth (or so I thought).

“Wanna listen to some music?” He asked. I nodded and he pulled his Airpods out, sticking one in my ear and the other in his own.

Story of My Life started playing and my heart rate sped up, pulsing adrenaline through my body. Suddenly, I was wide awake and hyper aware of every place our bodies were touching (thighs, hips, my shoulder to his chest, his shoulder to my head, his arm on my bicep).

I lifted my head up and turned to look at him.

“Do you ever get sick of this song?” I asked. My voice was quiet because I wasn’t sure I actually wanted to know the answer.

“No,” he replied. His voice was low and raspy and it made my stomach flutter. I felt myself leaning in, unconsciously, as he continued. “It reminds me of you, and I could never get sick of you.”

He brought his free hand up to my face and rubbed his thumb in soft circles on my cheekbone, and his eyes flickered down to my lips. The distance between us closed as if we were replaying something that had already happened in slow motion. Eventually, I could just barely feel the soft brush of his lips against mine. My mouth fell open just a bit in anticipation of what was to come, but Harry paused.

“It’s you, Y/N,” he whispered.”It’s always been you.”

Feel free to cross my name out and write in your own, I won’t be mad. I get it; what really happened was better than any self-insert fanfiction.

Chapter 17

I’m going to keep most of the details of our wedding private, but I will tell you about our first dance, because it ties into a lot of the other stories that I’ve written about. If you haven’t noticed by now, Story of My Life is sort of the underlying theme of this book, and that’s because it’s been the underlying theme of my life, the soundtrack to my relationship with Harry.

After dinner, and some absolutely mental toasts, Harry and I were eager to get the party started. Even though he’s not the best dancer, I have never met anyone who dances with as much joy as Harry does, and I love getting pulled into his wild, spontaneous routines. But our first dance was different. The fairy lights surrounding the garden were twinkling in the moonlight, and Niall, Liam, Louis, and Zayn stood on the sidelines to sing, you guessed it, Story of My Life. We swayed in circles, gently, without trying to put on a show or impress anyone else. It was a beautiful, full circle moment, and the boys even dragged out “between” just a little bit to tease us.

Life is funny. One minute, you’re sixteen and screaming “The fire beneath my feet is burning bright,” at your best friend and you think that this is it, you will be touring the world with your friends forever, and the next you’re twenty-seven and in a wedding dress, leaving mascara stains on the shoulder of his suit. But I wouldn’t change a thing, because I think it was written in the walls all along.

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verdantcrimson · 8 months ago

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Heaven and Earth / Creation of Heaven and Earth - 6

(Unproofread)

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[A few days after the meeting with Ieyasu-sensei. A memory of a hard-earned meeting with Nobunaga-sensei, who was traveling overseas]

Nobunaga: — That old geezer is such a geriatric pain in the ass, why don't you just give him the axe already?

Nobunaga: He's nothing but dead weight, seriously.

Keito: Erm—

Nobunaga: Of course, that playboy that dares to call himself a scholar, when all that comes out of his mouth is talk of money and a foul-smelling breath, ought to be axed too.¹

Nobunaga: Just looking at them brings misfortune.

Nobunaga: The other two might’ve said something similar already, but I don't want to be lumped in together with those guys.

Nobunaga: As long as you agree to my conditions, I'll cooperate.

Keito: No, uh, those are quite difficult to, I mean—

Nobunaga: Then, end of story. Bye-bye.

Keito: P-Please wait, Nobunaga-sensei!

Nobunaga: Don't call me that name. You have some nerve, seriously. I like Nobunaga a lot, but that's exactly why I feel totally unworthy of that title.

Nobunaga: Though in the end, the rest of the world views history as nothing more than a hobby or a plaything.

Nobunaga: I despised seeing what I loved being brought down to such a level, so in a moment of youthful impulsiveness, I cooperated with ‘Rumbling Heaven and Earth’, but—

Nobunaga: The more I tried, the more I despaired. That's why I'll have to pass on this.

Nobunaga: I don't want any part in this, so find someone else. If you insist on having me, get rid of the geezer and that playboy like I said earlier.

Nobunaga: I won't compromise any more than this. I do feel sorry that you guys have been handed a landmine of a job, but I don't do charity cases, ‘kay?

[End of flashback. Back in the Yumenosaki Garden space]

Souma: … And that is how it went.

Souma: Every single one of the ‘Three Sages’ were idiosyncratic individuals, who seemed to be beyond the scope of our control.

Koga: Speakin’ from the perspective of someone just casually listenin’ to a story, it feels like all of ‘em are pretty interestin’ characters.

Koga: If ya can use that to your advantage, you’d probably end up with a real entertainin’ show.

Souma: You really are speaking from the perspective of a casual…

Souma: In fact, what had made ‘Rumbling Heaven and Earth’ such an interesting show was the unique ways each scholar would research, interpret, and discuss various historical events.

Souma: However, in reality, when in a position wherein one has to direct and mobilize these characters, one can do naught but clutch their head.

Koga: All three of ‘em are makin’ completely contradictory demands. Even if ya tried to satisfy them all, it probably just wouldn’t work.

Souma: Indeed. Suppose we did simply comply with all of their demands. First, we would have to remove both Hideyoshi-sensei and Ieyasu-sensei.

Souma: In addition to this, we would have to create a version of the show that would generate a large profit without altering the contents of ‘Rumbling Heaven and Earth’ in the slightest.

Souma: However, by removing two of the renowned scholars from the show, its contents have already been altered beyond repair.

Souma: Enthusiasts of the show are likely to stop watching, and thus, it will yield no profit.

Koga: Even if ya forced it to happen, if Hideyoshi and Ieyasu participate, Nobunaga’d probably up and go— That’s how it feels.

Souma: Yes. If one were to attempt to fulfill the conditions of one, they would not be able to fulfill that of another.

Souma: In order to satisfy a single demand, we would essentially be sacrificing something else, so it seems as though meeting them all at the same time may prove to be a rather tenuous undertaking. So we haven’t a clue what to do.

Souma: That is why we have concluded that this is beyond our capacity and are currently requesting aid from Anzu-dono so that we may work together to concoct stratagems.

Koga: Oh, Anzu’s comin’ over for a business trip? I’m sure it’d feel better with her handling things.

Koga: But it makes ya think, coordinating the demands of everyone involved and stuff is probably a producer’s job anyways. Why are they makin’ the idols do the negotiatin’?

Souma: All I can say is that this may be a poor practice that has carried over from our days under Yumenosaki… Though it would not be a falsity to say that the members of the ‘Three Sages’ are comrades who once worked together to create this show, so to speak.

Souma: Therefore, I believe directly meeting and communicating ideas with them to be a necessity.

Souma: We would not want to incur their wrath or to have them stir up trouble once the show begins to air, after all.

Souma: To have each participant on the same page before show production begins is not a poor idea in the slightest.

Koga: Ya say all that, but d’ya think they’ll ever agree on anythin’?

Koga: I felt my head spinnin’ just listenin’ to that story. They’re all facin’ completely different directions, aren’t they?

Souma: In that regard, one can only hope that the leadership of Hasumi-dono and Anzu-dono will guide us.

Souma: Naturally, both Kiryu-dono and I shall each do our utmost, in order to improve our position, however slightly.

Souma: Fufu. It feels as though I have been tossed right into the midst of the Sengoku Era, my future uncertain. Though truthfully, I am unexpectedly excited. Ah God, bestow trial and tribulation unto me—²

Souma: Until now, our AKATSUKI has remained solid and stable with Hasumi-dono at our center. That is why there have been no major developments.

Souma: It is for this reason that I eagerly await to see how we shall grow after such a large undertaking.

Souma: The moon is that which waxes and wanes with the seasons. And so, we who bear the name of AKATSUKI ought to change to suit the times.

Souma: Though at this time, I am unsure if this change is a sign of good fortune or ill omen—

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Translation Notes

In Japanese, the colloquial term for 'firing someone' literally translates to something like 'to decapitate them'. Given her namesake's grisly penchant for turning the skulls of his enemies into sake cups (Though this tale is largely anecdotal) I tried to retain the brutality of the phrase. Nobunaga-sensei has a very sharp way of speaking.

Souma is quoting Yamanaki Yukimori, who famously prayed to the crescent moon when the clan his lord was in was declining. He wished to be given hardship rather than witness his lord's clan fall into ruin.

#Heaven and Earth #Keito Hasumi #Souma Kanzaki #Koga Oogami #Nobunaga

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doodlegirl1998 · 1 year ago

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Why people have merch in mha? I know in theory it sounds a dumb questions as if heroes are celebrities in this au...then sure it would have merch about them.

Cool.

My point is why? Do they get a fair share of the money? Do they donate the money? Could they even deny having a merch?

But this could be chuckled up as non important...except Izu has merch of AM, the #1 hero...smth Hori loves to shit on.

Why Izu has merch? Not saying that he couldnt have merch or should be smart with his money....but why he wanted to have am's merch?

Its not as if make bk stop abusing him. Not like it made his life easier...and after having contact with the real AM...he could look at his merch differently.

But Hori🙄

Its just...why merch exists in mha?

Hi @mikeellee 👋,

I think heroes have merch mainly to tie into the 'Celebrity' aspect of heroes that Hori pretends to talk about sometimes.

As for the money side of things, I think it depends in general on the hero and on the merch being sold (some celebrities sell a particular type of merch for the donations to go to a charity - I could see heroes doing the same thing.) Most of the time celebrities get a cut of whatever merch they have made therefore I feel like a lot of the time heroes have this route.

As for the bootleg merch, that's going to always exist but I see it occurring more so for Villians since opportunists want their cash grab and are betting on no villain coming forward to claim "their cut" of the profits. (See all the 'Stain' merch.) Nor will they be slapped with a lawsuit like a hero would do if they were caught selling likenesses of a hero without permission.

As for why Izu has merch, I think the answer is actually quite simple. He likes him. He's a fan and wants to support him so he avidly gets any piece of merch he can get his hands on. (This has nothing to do with Bkg or Bkg's fandom of AM, this seems to be independent of him which is neat.)

Also yeah, that could be interesting to have Izu think differently of his AM merch, AM isn't an idol now he's a mentor and father figure, so he could think of things differently. But I also think it's sweet that Izu remains a fan of AM, they're each others biggest supporters and I find that really sweet. (Also would have loved to see AM in Izu merch when Izu becomes an official hero, it would have been very sweet.)

Anyway, this could have been an interesting topic for Hori to tie into MHA but it seems like he drops it like he dropped a lot of the things he set up at the start of the series.

#mha critical #bnha critical #all might #midoriya izuku #Anti Bakugou #anti bakugou katsuki

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mariacallous · 2 years ago

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We now live in a time when energy firms talk like celebrities who’ve just lamped someone at the Oscars, or been covertly filmed making racist remarks. On being confronted with the fact that debt collectors in its pay are breaking into the homes of vulnerable customers to forcibly install prepayment meters, British Gas yesterday summoned the full force of theatrical contrition to wail: “This is not who we are.”

You’ll note that statement conforms to the ironclad rule of the this-is-not-who-I-am apology, in that its precise opposite is true. This is, demonstrably, precisely who British Gas are, given that this is what they do. “It’s not how we do business,” explained the firm, faced with an overwhelming stack of evidence that this is indeed how they do business.

As one debt collector trainer cheerily enlightened a new recruit during the Times investigation into the practice: “That person could tell you that their entire family of 50 were in a horrific aeroplane crash and were the sole survivor, and we’d still be saying: that’s a shame, but we are changing your meter.” The bailiff workforce seems to have absorbed this central ethical message. “If every single mum that starts getting a bit teary you’re going to walk away from,” reasoned one, “you won’t be earning any bonus.” How can it not be the way you do business, if doing it is literally incentivised?

Admittedly, it’s not how British Gas present the way they do business to the outside world. The firm’s website and social channels confront users with a perky message: “We’re tooled up to help bring bills down.” For whatever reason, they omit to mention that the tools are a mortise pick, a mass-issued warrant, and a guy who prefaced setting a locksmith on the door of a single father-of-three by telling the undercover reporter: “I love this bit.” (Whether this man is the biggest tool in the British Gas shed is a matter of debate. I imagine the field is hotly contested.)

The chief executive of the energy regulator, Ofgem, yesterday condemned the practice of forcibly entering people’s homes and switching them to prepayment. He also opened an investigation into British Gas, warning: “No energy CEO can shirk their legal and moral responsibilities to protect their own customers, especially the most vulnerable.”

And yet they can, as everyone from charities to Citizens Advice to a select committee inquiry has been highlighting for a long time now. Perhaps in their submissions to this inquiry, British Gas-contracted bailiffs will claim they are in fact engaged in divinely appointed “moral” work, much in the same way a serial killer argues they are simply cleansing the streets of sex workers once they’ve used them. Surprisingly, that’s not currently the line the firm is going with. If warm words could heat homes, British Gas could do itself out of business.

As for who else is looking busy, the business and energy secretary, Grant Shapps, last week wrote a letter to energy companies ordering them to stop the practice. Ironically, for firms that deplore their own demands being ignored, they seem not to have opened it. Maybe companies that decline to engage with the secretary of state’s envelopes could be forced to prepay their taxes? British Gas expects to increase its earnings eightfold this year.

Naturally, those unopened ministerial demands are not the only irony in town. Yesterday, Shell reported global profits of $40bn (£32.2bn), the highest in its 115-year history. The announcement served as a reminder that our government’s longtime refusal to consider extending the windfall tax was opposed, among others, by Shell itself. Last October the firm’s then chief executive Ben van Beurden told the Energy Intelligence Forum that governments needed to tax firms such as his to protect the poorest. “You cannot have a market that behaves in such a way … that is going to damage a significant part of society … I think we just have to accept as a society – it can be done smartly and not so smartly. There is a discussion to be had about it, but I think it’s inevitable.” The then chancellor, Jeremy Hunt, finally took not-especially-smart action in the autumn statement; the government always being the last to know.

Before we conclude, it must be said that British Gas is far from the only firm forcibly fitting prepayment meters, often while people are out at work, and shockingly often in the case of disabled customers who rely on electrically operated equipment to manage their lives. Many firms are driving these already vulnerable people on to prepayment meters, where the rate is disgracefully and unjustifiably higher. This is simply inhumane. The fact that it has continued despite the resultant anguish being highlighted is a sign that something much bigger than the bond between a company and an individual customer is broken.

This week the US president, Joe Biden, called for a “junk fee” prevention act, reasoning: “You shouldn’t have to pay an extra $50 to sit next to your child on the plane, pay a surprise ‘resort fee’ for a hotel stay, pay $200 to terminate your cable plan, or pay huge service fees to buy concert tickets”.

I know it involves taking a vague interest in how people actually live, but you’d think it was even more of a priority for someone in our own government to say that poor people really, really shouldn’t have to pay more for electricity via prepayment meters. If they can’t even get a grip on that part of the problem, let alone the iceberg it’s the tip of, then mounting evidence suggests it might be time for a number of parties in this story to concede: “This actually is who we are.”

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saintmeghanmarkle · 1 year ago

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Networking by u/UnderArmAussie

Networking I've worked in a hugely charged charity, Healthcare and government scheme where my actual job was to network with high power and high profile peopleNetworking is about mutual benefits. Whilst there are a lot of people H&M are desperate to network with to grow their brand, they offer nothing in return.The royal connection used to be a selling point, but they sold out fast for quick cash. If anything is true, keeping royal connections would have made them more over the next 40 years than selling out in 5 minutes ever could. They're untrustworthy, unreliable and unskilled. Heady plans of successful enterprise aren't ever successful plans until the money comes in. Many celebrities have failed ventures behind them. They don't stick to their one trick pony. They know if you keep doing the same thing, you'll keep getting the same result.The interest in them was their royal link. And they cut it off to gain the maximum possible as soon as they could. If they hadn't, the link would still be seeing them getting deals and being paid. They have no new royal story. They can only rehash over and over and over again.They are accused of not doing the work. Spotify stepping in to produce, Meghan's voice being spliced in after someone else actually asked the questions, one hour working for archewell, setting up a charity where they can take 95% of the profits. Let's also not pass over her humanitarian work is to speak for a charity - one young world - that seeks others to actually carry out the work. Whether they are workshops or egotistical you'll get the same result. Nothing much.Inserting yourself, buying awards, without doing the work. Accepting awards for something you later claim didn't happen. Getting kicked out of the UN. Getting kicked out of frogmore. Plagiarizing everyone else.Networking might help them. But how does it help those they look to network with? It doesn't. They'd run to the media or copy your plans without credit. And then play the victim. They have NOTHING to network with. It's no surprise they aren't getting party invites and Hollywood is turning its back. And they don't even have the talent to play victimihood well.You can't sit on your laurels and think you made it and that's enough. Especially when making it just boils down to marrying in. You have to work at it.Even if they were the most lovely couple on the planet, they have nothing to offer. Nothing to network, nothing of benefit to others. Their entire fan group is based on a perceived offering or representation they don't ever do any work on, or for.There's still money in them. Click bait. Entertainment news. We're still talking so they'll still get clicks. But it's not about them claiming $6 million for an hour's speaking engagement. They're worth nothing on their own merit. They have nothing to network.But they still have the kids. I'm sure some money will be in it. But having their British father make a point of bringing them out in public every 4th July is not going to gain British support.They're the equivalent of expecting someone to build you a house because you cooked them a "roast chicken" dinner.Networking is for mutual advantage. At the risk of being markled, who would benefit from networking with them?And for Meghan: to paraphrase Eleanor Roosevelt:It isn’t enough to talk about celebrity. One must believe in it. And it isn’t enough to believe in it. One must work at it post link: https://ift.tt/z3ih4gt author: UnderArmAussie submitted: July 08, 2023 at 12:48PM via SaintMeghanMarkle on Reddit

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usafphantom2 · 24 days ago

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Blackbird pilot recalls the mission where a Soviet MiG-25 Foxbat fired a missile at his SR-71

Soviet MiG-25 pilot tells why Foxbats were not able to fire a single missile at SR-71 Blackbird Mach 3 spy planes

The Soviet MiG-25

The “holy grail” of the soviet air defense system: shooting down a Blackbird

Missile fired at an SR-71

MiG-25 at risk of being shot down by its missile

What happened to the missile fired by the MiG-25 at the SR-71?

The Soviet MiG-25

The Soviet MiG-25 (NATO code-name “Foxbat”) was a high-speed interceptor and reconnaissance aircraft. The aircraft entered service in 1970 and has a top speed of Mach 2.83, powerful radar, and could carry up to four air-to-air missiles.

The MiG-25’s capabilities were not discovered until 1976 when Viktor Belenko, a Soviet MiG-25 pilot, defected to Japan. Subsequent analysis revealed a simple-yet-functional design with vacuum-tube electronics, two massive turbojet engines, and sparing use of advanced materials such as titanium.

CLICK HERE to see The Aviation Geek Club contributor Linda Sheffield’s T-shirt designs! Linda has a personal relationship with the SR-71 because her father Butch Sheffield flew the Blackbird from test flight in 1965 until 1973. Butch’s Granddaughter’s Lisa Burroughs and Susan Miller are graphic designers. They designed most of the merchandise that is for sale on Threadless. A percentage of the profits go to Flight Test Museum at Edwards Air Force Base. This nonprofit charity is personal to the Sheffield family because they are raising money to house SR-71, #955. This was the first Blackbird that Butch Sheffield flew on Oct. 4, 1965.

A capable interceptor, the MiG-25 was widely exported by the Soviet Union. This aircraft could outrun any fighter in the air, and indeed any military aircraft other than the SR-71 Blackbird.

Loaded with two R-40 missiles (NATO reporting name AA-6 ‘Acrid’), the Foxbat could reach 78,000 feet, but with its full complement of four missiles, it was limited to 68,900 feet. By contrast the Habu flew at cruise speeds above Mach 3 at over 80,000 feet.

The “holy grail” of the soviet air defense system: shooting down a Blackbird

Nevertheless, once an SR-71 Blackbird flown by Col. Darrel Cobb was fired on by a MiG-25, as Cobb himself recalls in this interview given to his son Chris;

Col. Cobb’s SR-71 Blackbird fired on by a MiG-25.

‘Operational missions.

‘First let me assure you; we never broke President Eisenhower’s promise to cease overflying the Soviet Union. We remained over international water – 12 mi offshore.

‘All of my operational flying was from Kadena, Okinawa. Area of interest was Vietnam; Korea; Vladivostok, USSR; China. Later, we flew transatlantic & return from Seymour Johnson, NC supporting the Israel Arab war. After I left the program, the SR flew from Mildenhall, England & Bodo, Norway.

‘We already touched on missions against Vietnam & the only night mission.

‘Today let’s cover “north missions.”

This print is available in multiple sizes from AircraftProfilePrints.com – CLICK HERE TO GET YOURS. Dawn at 80.000ft – SR-71 Blackbird

‘Take off, refuel & head into the Sea of Japan; between Japan & south Korea. Accelerated to operational speed – 3.20. Head directly at Vladivostok. headquarters of USSR air defense; and test/r & d of new radar & intercept development. 2200 mph guaranteed to light up all the radar & intercept systems they had.

‘A MiG-25 interceptor squadron was based just outside of Vladivostok. The “holy grail” of the soviet air defense system was to shoot down an SR-71.

‘Turn north up the Sea of Japan & make a U-turn back down the USSR coast (12 mi offshore) with ELINT & SIGINT recorders going full bore. Photo cameras looking oblique into the USSR, updating the interceptor air order of battle. Head south east till past Vladivostok then turn slightly left then right to cross Korea at the DMZ. Photo cameras updating N. Korea force readiness to resume hostilities against S. Korea.

Missile fired at an SR-71

‘Continue down the yellow sea coast of China. All sensors evaluating China’s threat to Taiwan. Turn left- decel & land at Kadena. I flew this profile several times during the 4 years I flew ops missions. One of these got very, very thrilling. Southbound, passing Vladivostok, Reg (my RSO) announced;

‘”We’ve got a fighter locked on – it’s gotta be a MiG-25″

‘”Our DEF [Defensive Electronic Gear, DEF. It Provided ground-to-air and air-to-air missile protection. Still Classified. Def systems were labeled DEF A,B,C,E and G. Later modifications to the DEF Systems resulted in DEF A2, C2, H and M systems. Nearing retirement of the SR-71, a programmable DEF labeled A2C could defeat all known threats to the Blackbirds] is blanketing all beautifully.”

‘”Oops – he just fired – – we’ve got a missile locked on”

‘”Our def has shifted to its missile magic”

‘”There – lock’s broken. Missile’s back in search”

‘”That’s weird – sounds like the missile’s locked on – but not locked on us”

‘”He’s gone – coming up on the “s” turn to the DMZ.”’

Fast forward to late 1976 Col. Cobb retired from the Air Force.

MiG-25 at risk of being shot down by its missile

Cobb continues;

‘I’m retired! Learning that retirement means no days off; no vacation; no holidays; big pay cut.

‘I find the aircraft TV channel & history channel. Lots & lots of SR-71 films. I avidly watch at every opportunity. In my den, glued to the TV & today’s SR-71 show, & who do I see comparing the MiG-25 with the SR-71??

‘You’re right – – Lt Victor Belenko!

‘He was totally gobsmacked; his MiG-25 burned up the engines getting to Mach 3 yet the SR’s cruise speed was greater than 3.0.

‘Belenko is the one who said that the Holy Grail of soviet air defense was to shoot down an SR.

‘He told of how they would pre-position ahead of the SR’s radar track and had to zoom up to get a lock on & fire their missile.

‘Belenko stressed how quickly & precisely they had to perform because the window of opportunity was so very short.

‘Their target was traveling at 3600 ft/sec. Faster than a speeding bullet.

‘He described in detail how precise the post firing breakaway had to be executed to avoid getting shot down by their own missile; talking as though they found this out the “hard way.”’

Cobb Concludes;

‘Man talk about intense attention – – I’m quickly mentally replaying that tape from the inter-phone – –

‘”We’ve got a fighter locked on – it’s gotta be a Mig-25″

‘”Our DEF is blanketing all beautifully.”

‘”Oops – he just fired – – we’ve got a missile locked on”

‘”Our def has shifted to its missile magic”

‘”There – lock’s broken. Missile’s back in search.

‘”That’s weird – sounds like the missile’s locked on – but not locked on us.”’

What happened to the missile fired by the MiG-25 at the SR-71?

What happened to the missile fired by the MiG-25? Could it have locked onto the Foxbat itself? Could the SR-71 DEF have deceived it? We’ll never know.

However, we can assume that given that SR-71 had a cruise speed faster than the top speed of the MiG-25’s Acrid missiles, the Blackbird simply outran the AA-6. There was no chance a Foxbat could conduct a tail-chase interception of an SR-71 (the MiG-25 couldn’t carry out a head-on intercept of a Blackbird too: in fact, the Foxbat’s radar and fire control system was not sophisticated enough to solve the problems of a head-on intercept at closing speeds that would exceed Mach 5).

Be sure to check out Linda Sheffield Miller (Col Richard (Butch) Sheffield’s daughter, Col. Sheffield was an SR-71 Reconnaissance Systems Officer) Twitter X Page Habubrats SR-71, Instagram Page SR71Habubrats and Facebook Page Born into the Wilde Blue Yonder Habubrats for awesome Blackbird’s photos and stories.

@Habubrats71 via X

#sr71 #sr 71 #sr 71 blackbird #blackbird #aircraft #usaf #lockheed aviation #skunkworks #mach3+#habu #aviation #reconnaissance #cold war aircraft

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thessalian · 2 years ago

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Thess vs Boxing Day

Huh. You learn some really interesting historical shit, and a fair bit about how low your country of residence has stooped, when you look up a simple little thing like “How did Boxing Day start?” to add a little historical sidebar to a Tumblr post.

Well, for starters, I always kind of wondered which were the twelve days of Christmas, specifically. Well, apparently we should be getting or giving turtle doves today, because it is the second day of what is liturgically known as Christmastide.

Anyway, Boxing Day started here in the UK, and mostly you’ll find Commonwealth countries ceiebrating it today, and some other parts of what were considered part of the British Empire (except for the US, who apparently yeeted that into the harbour along with the tea or something, I dunno). In Europe, it’s St Stephen’s Day. Now, here in its country of origin, Boxing Day is a Bank Holiday, which means reduced shop opening hours, reduced bus service, and everybody stays home and eats leftovers, basically. Most of the countries I know about, though ... whether or not they call it Boxing Day specifically, it’s a shopping holiday; kind of like Black Friday, just with a different sort of historical revisionism attached. I mean, when I was a kid, my father told me that we called it “Boxing Day” because we boxed up all the gifts we didn’t want, picked up the gift receipts, and headed out to exchange them. That never quite rang right to me - I was pretty sure that Boxing Day existed before gift receipts, at least - but I never bothered to look up what it actually meant. Until today.

Boxing Day is supposed to be a day about giving to the poor, servants, or any less fortunate. It’s a day where people gave a parcel to their household staff, postal worker, errand boy, people like that. But before that ... aaaaaaaand now I know what the Christmas carol Good King Wenceslas is all about. The church would give alms to the poor on St Stephen’s Day (or the Feast of Stephen), and the ‘Good King Wenceslas’ of the carol is based on an actual person - Saint Wenceslaus 1, Duke of Bohemia, who was canonised for his generosity and charity after his death. According to legend, he was assassinated by his brother, Boselaus the Cruel. Apparently Wenceslaus is some kind of Arthur figure, complete with myth about his resurrection and discovery of Very Important Sword (under a stone, though, sensibly enough). Gotta love the Czechs.

Anyway, point is that today’s supposed to be a day of giving to the less fortunate, and in this country at least, to those who worked so hard for you all year, for far less than you make. And what’s happening today? Massive queues outside Selfridge’s as people hunt for bargains, and strike action by public transport workers who don’t want their jobs downsized to oblivion and maybe to be paid enough to live on. Honestly, I don’t blame anyone for wanting to get the things they need as cheaply as possible at this point, and insane Boxing Day sale prices are probably the only way a lot of people can afford some things. But while Boxing Day hasn’t been about giving for a long time, the fact that it’s currently a day to claw just anything needful away from those who have been taking from us all year just to add to their hoard of money so large that it’s functionally meaningless ... it makes me really sad.

So there you have it: another historical snippet and piece of socioeconomic commentary by everybody’s favourite tick in the “Other” box crammed into human form, Thess. Happy Boxing Day, or St Stephen’s Day, or whatever you celebrate. I may not be able to give you all a parcel or meaningfully provide a tangible gift, this is supposed to be a time for appreciating those who work hard with little or no reward for the ultimate benefit of others. So I’m going to appreciate you guys; everybody on this hellsite. You don’t do this for profit. You don’t do this for fame. Yet you provide stories and songs and artwork and fun trivia facts and tutorials on everything from science to history and way, way beyond. You provide support of the emotional variety so often. You give what’s so often taken for granted - enjoyment, comfort, carefully-researched facts, and ... I guess hope? Hope that not everyone in the world is a complete shitbird. So thank you, Tumblr and those who lurk within. For being you.

#Thess has opinions

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worldweaverofmediocrity · 2 years ago

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Krillin Isekai.

Warning: some stuff (like Goku children and the twin cyborgs turning good) are railroaded. Just so I can have a safety net. Otherwise (I hope at least) prepare for some BUTTERFLIES!

-just under 5 years before Raditiz arrives-

At exactly 6 am a short bald monk jerked out of bed. Krillin yawned and stretched in his orange pajamas as two sets of memories stirred together in his subconscious. Krillin put on his slippers and reached for the doorknob before stopping in confusion.

“The hell is a Raditz?” Krillin thought of his other set of memories. Krillin clutched his head as a bullet point list of the future? Events started playing in his mind. “Wait, I will get a Girlfriend AND a Wife in the future? What do I have to do to secure those?”

Krillin then paled as the deadliness of the future threats registered. He started shuffling the new memories for various training methods as he scrambled for a notebook. Krillin started cursing as the notebook filled with the future leaving no space for any planning or observations. Krillin thanked his lucky stars that there were more in his dresser.

“Okay. Weighted Clothing. Gravity Chambers. Senzu Beans. Cyborgification. Healing Pods. Ki Healing. Magic Healing.” Krillin rubbed his chin as he pondered. “How do I get the most training in the shortest amount of time without dipping into the ‘twice a life’ version of the Hyperbolic Time Chamber. “

Krillin then heard Roshi walking around the house. “Perhaps the shrinking band? I mean the original didn’t do the whole mass conservation thing when Roshi wore it. As evidenced when he didn’t crack the toilet. But that shouldn’t be that hard for Bulma to change. Hm. What if I combined that with weighted clothes and/or gravity training? Probably a whole lot of damage which can hopefully be fixed by senzu beans, but just in case lets not combine the two until way later.”

Krillin’s stomach then announced its displeasure causing him to blush and stop theorizing. After treading down the stairs and eating a bowl of fruit loops, Krillin pondered on where he would actually train/alert the Z force. Krillin facepalmed as he remembered Bulma’s connections.

“Hey Bulma,” Krillin asked over the phone. “Are there any construction sites that need dirt to be removed and don’t care where it ends up?”

“What do you need it for?” Krillin heard paper flipping on Bulma’s end.

“Oh I’m just going to create an artificial island specifically so I (and our mutual friends) can train without pinging off into the depths of no cell signal.” Bulma snorted at Krillin’s flippant tone. “Also whenever you aren’t revolutionizing the car bizz, you might want to revolutionize micro machinery, electronics, and surgery at the very least by making a more durable/’protective’ shrinking band. Also perhaps mining if you can create a version that keeps the density/weight of the person and their clothes. If the stripmining doesn’t work out then at the very least our group will use them as training aids. Or at least I will. No clue on Goku or V- Tien.” Krillin stumbled upon remembering that no one had a clue about Saiyans just yet and their vast bullshittery.

Krillin didn’t interrupt Bulma as she started scribbling down notes and muttering to herself equations. “Assuming you want something near Roshi's Island without being in damage range and roughly a square mile of flat land you’ll have to go to several sites…” Krillin noted down the locations. “If your Idea works I will give you 10% of the profits. The rest of your 40% will go to charities, as usual.”

“Only If the bands aren’t priced at a few hundred million a pop.” Krillin said. “Damn no wonder OG!Krillin never moved out of Roshi’s house If 90% of his income goes to charities. Maybe that's why Maroon ditched him for that other guy. Can’t gold dig (or Insurance Protect) if it's all elsewhere in the world. Also Bulma, not everyone’s a corporate mongol like you.”

“I would be able to potentially sell them for a Million if I could have the original Band back.” Bulma snarked.

“Yo! Master, do you know where you placed the Shrinking Band from a few years ago?” Krillin asked Roshi who just walked into the kitchen/great room thing and poured prune juice on his bowl of fruit loops.

Roshi placed his bowl down on the table and rubbed his chin. Roshi disappeared up the staircase and returned a minute later with (the thankfully still functioning) shrink band. Krillin ignored Roshi’s wagging eyebrows as he finalized the deal with Bulma. Krillin then waved goodbye to a crackling Roshi watching the TV and sailed to capsule corp.

-a few hours later-

Krillin smiled at the case full of Dirt Capsules and mentally flipped a coin to decide on using the scuba gear he brought. Krillin’s smile widened at the extra bit of training as he put away the Scuba Capsule.

The salt water stinged Krillin’s eyes before the pain receded showing a nice coral reef. Krillin’s eye twitched as he swam down to stand on the reef. Finding a nice flat featureless (or as featureless as the ocean floor could be) Krillin tossed a dirt capsule and swam down after it settled.

-3 days later. I assume you don’t want me to copy paste “toss. Settle. Pat down. Repeat”-

Krillin wiped the sweat off his brow and smiled at the small hut with refreshments and a small pier for docking. On the left side was a soundproof room full of general homework/study supplies (hopefully enough for Chi Chi.). On the right was a bar and grill with no alcoholics, hopefully stocked enough for a Post-Training Saiyan (and normal friends). In the middle were yoga mats for stretching and extra shorter seats for the bar. Around the perimeter of the island were distance markers for jogging.

“Yeah I doubt this will help with a super saiyan (or twenty) around. But Luckily for me, those won’t appear until I die! Again!” Krillin facepalmed to abort the existential train before it could start.

As Krillin got into the standard I’ma Poop power up stance, Krillin then pictured his fellow fighters' reactions to him suddenly powering up out of nowhere. Krillin’s body twitched as phone numbers returned to the front of his mind. And then stared at the satellite dishless hut letting out a very deep sigh. The perfectionist in the nameless memories reared its ugly ass head.

“Oh wait we can use just our satellite phones until I can save up for an actual dish.” Krillin’s wallet sadly couldn’t handle the purchase right now.

Krillin crossed his arms sitting down pondering who to call first. “Gohan’s what 5? 4? Years old when Raditiz arrives? So Chichi should be pregnant with him by now.” Krillin flopped onto his back. “Let’s not chance it and perhaps call Tien or Yamcha first? No wait then Goku would be offended if I didn’t call him first.” Krillin rubbed his temples.”So I have to call him first but I can’t because I have no Idea the age of Gohan. It's not like I can call and ask ‘hey Goku did you have sex and made Gohan yet?’ without it being TMI.” Krillin’s head bobbed to his mental snark. The sunset’s gleam did its best to cuddle Krillin in its warmth.

The next morning. “Good Morning Goku. I’ve made an Island near Roshi’s to spar at. Do you wanna swing some time soon?”

“Sure. How about this weekend?” Goku replied.

Krillin’s other phone calls that morning went just as well. Yamcha and Bulma would arrive with the Shrink Bands on that day as well. That left Krillin 2 days to train on his own before the others arrived. On his to-do list was creating the destructo Disk way before canon. But first off he might do something more controllable. Sitting down on the training field Krillin closed his eyes and searched within himself for a pool of warmth/ki.

Krillin drew out the warmth or at least tried to, it felt like he was pulling an entire nuclear bunker through a straw with the strength of a teacup poodle. ...or a human in this world. The only saving grace was that it didn’t cause any pain.

“The memories caused everything to change, didn’t it?” Krillin mumbled. “I’m going to have to relearn everything.”

Krillin looked up towards the stars, towards Frieza, Beerus, and all those outside of his Universe. Before looking towards Sasebo, where Doctor Gero and 19 made their debut. Krillin looked towards where he thought Buu’s egg laid. And finally looked towards where Raditiz would land before shifting towards Vegata and Nappa’s landing.

Krillin walked over to the edge of the island and sat down mentally preparing himself to shout at the ocean for hours.

-Mysteries abound, made up of a deep energy. Energy-

Krillin timed his mental singing to the waves and saw the next one come in just a tiny bit slower.

-Foes all around. We will live careless and free-

Over the course of the next few hours Krillin was able to see water droplets freeze in the air for a few seconds. The next morning Krillin copied all of his notebooks for redundancy and so that the other Z-fighters would have their own copies.

-2 days later-

Krillin waved as Goku hopped off the flying nimbus and looked around the island. “Nice place you’ve built Krillin. Never thought of making my own training grounds. Say did the change in your Ki happen before you created this or after?”

“Before I made this. I'll tell you what prompted the change once everyone arrives.” Krillin replied.

“I’ve got a surprise to share as well, so that’ll be fun.” Goku said as he got into a sparing pose. “Let’s work out those wrinkles in your Ki while we wait.”

Krillin adopted a sparing pose and unleashed three quick jabs to Goku’s Abdomen which were blocked. “Have you thought about what you’ll do to support yourself and Chichi?”

Goku retaliates with a low sweeping kick which Krillin jumped over. “I was thinking about opening a dojo but Chichi wants me to become a farmer. Because there isn’t a constant supply of tournaments for me to win.”

Krillin punched at Goku’s Head now that he was level with it, but Goku merely moved his head to the side and Krillin’s fist merely grazed his ear. “Why not combine the two? Train your dojo disciples to infuse their Ki into whatever you will farm. Surely that will increase the quality of your products in all senses of the word. And your disciples will give extra hands for the harvest and provide guards for the guards. Make the dojo complex far away enough from your house and you’ll keep your current privacy too.”

Goku punched Krillin's torso, tossing him back far enough for some breathing room. “Hmm. Ki infused food. That sounds so delicious and will definitely convince Chichi. Thanks Krillin!” Goku gave a thumbs up. “Let’s get serious now.”

-----

“First Order of business, Chichi’s pregnant with a boy. We’re going to name him Gohan.” Goku announced.

“Congrats!” Bulma spoke for everyone else.

Everyone on the island finished their books at the same time, the synchronized closing of the books sounded like a metaphorical thunder clap.

“Well, I’ll get to work on something to prevent the Shadow Dragons, better medical tech, and Gravity Chambers.” Bulma said. “And tracking down those scientists, to recruit or detain them.” Bulma said while jotting down notes in a notepad.

-Raditz Arrival-

Raditiz blinked as his scouter detected a whole bunch of beings with ...Acceptable power levels on the planet. Ignoring the farmer with a primitive physical weapon, Raditz took flight directly for the cluster.

-Android Saga, 18 POV-

The woman known as Lazuli to few and Android/Cyborg 18 to many more awoke inside a pod.

#dragon ball #dbz au #story prototype #May get rewritten #scheduled #my writing

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theology101 · 8 months ago

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We DO pay them on YouTube, with ads. We’re giving our time and maybe money (if we buy the products with their codes) in exchange for them making a few hundred thousand dollars. Thats the game. They’re trying to compete for my interest and time on the platform, im trying to spend my time as best as I can. They’re artists but they’re also business owners and they need to recognize the reality of their business and the model they’re in - appeal to your audience.

That’s it. Literally its not that difficult with modern analytics. You look at Ghost/Mystery Files, Puppet History, Too Many Spirits, and you see that they all routinely get views in the millions. For a channel with less then three million subscribers, that is a HUGE engagement rate that other content creators would kill for.

Then you look at the Food videos and they average around 300k. And that’s being GENEROUS. So the fact that they’re going behind a paywall and citing expenses while they’re hiring two more Talent for a food show is kind of a hugely stupid move. They may really like making those food videos but they have a buissness where they need to make responsible decisions. So invest in whats making you money!

And shit, while you’re here, why aren’t they tapping into YouTube shorts? Thats like, what half of the current algorithm is based around - long form content being edited into short funny moments/no context clips encouraging redirects. For a lot of channels I watch and have mentioned shorts (DougDoug, Corey Loses, MattPat), they claim that they easily make up a third to half of their revenue from youtube. With a staff of 25 people, they don’t have anyone who can spend two hours doing that a week?

Also, telling a company “you hired more people then you can support and you have to let people go if you want to stay profitable” isn’t anti-socialist and shows a huge lack of understanding of political theory on your part. Is being left ‘being nice’ to you because charity to a private buisness venture isnt part of any leftist ideology im familiar with. It’s just like… they messed up. Sometimes people lose their jobs and its not their fault but they just never should’ve been hired from the beginning. Watcher went beyond their means and instead of fixing themselves, they begged us to fix it for them while they refused every possible solution.

And more fans are paying them on Patreon - Of which there are three tiers for creators where patreon will take either 5%, 8%, 12%, and only 15.3% tax rate, so they’re getting the majority of that money no matter how you count it - and they got shafted. They’ve been unshafted now, but they were fully justified in being pissed off

“artists wanting a measure of comfort in their lives” stop sucking their dicks and look at their instagrams. They’re fine. They’re living well. They’re not billionaires by any means, but in a country where Middle Class doesnt exist anymore, they’re all rich. Obviously they can’t afford super yachts or to buy apartments for everyone in LA, but right now when I only have to budget out my pantry for one meal a day because i can’t afford more, Six Dollars is a big fucking deal

That being said - chill it on the Stevn talk. I believe he came up with it, just cause he talks like a finance bro and this is one of those moves, but these are three grown men who made this decision collectively. They all looked at the video they made and thought “yeah this is good - and in fact, deserves a count down!”

It was a dumb idea from the get go that, if released in its original form, would have killed their brand permanently

and you know i gotta say. the vast majority of the people losing their shit this weekend made it very clear that they do not understand the difference between "artists who want a measure of comfort in their lives" and "the billionaires actually being targeted by phrases like eat the rich." that is such a weird thing to be so proud to announce to the whole entire internet.

it's also extremely weird to behave as though any individual is entitled to an artist's work for free. or that the audience should be the final say in determining what an artist creates. there is a major difference between the betrayal of an artist who produces art and then banks on their social capital to engage in harmful, violent, bigoted behavior (like jk rowling) and the "betrayal" of an artist who decides that they should be or need to be compensated for their work. the latter isn't actually a betrayal at all. it's just a shift.

the thing is that the watcher boys didn't invent capitalism, they didn't invent the streaming model, they didn't invent youtube or patreon. they aren't getting 100% of the money from either. their merch doesn't magically appear as if made by elves while they sleep. their videos don't happen out of nowhere and without incurring bills. they have a business which employs people, and sure, you can say they employ too many people, but do they actually? a bunch of randos on the internet don't actually know that. they don't know these job titles, or how necessary it is to have everyone there. it's pure speculation. the entire company exists within a system they did not invent and are trying to stay afloat in said system while a bunch of assholes on the internet berate them for not acquiescing to their every whim at the expense of their artistic integrity, their ability to compensate their staff fairly, and their ability to keep making art.

and jumping from "i want to continue enjoying this artist's work for free" to "i think people should be fired and the remaining employees should be given greater responsibilities and more tasks to complete" is wild to me. there's nothing leftist in that and so trying to leverage leftist jargon to prove some sort of moral superiority is fucking wild, it's disingenuous, and it's sketchy as hell. you're allowed to be disappointed. you're not magically exempt from being told you're being an asshole if you decide your disappointment entitles you to take part in asshole behavior.

"but we don't want something heavily produced and we don't want these shows" then don't watch! that's it! don't watch! you are not being held hostage and forced to engage with this content. you have the choice not to. throwing a tantrum and launching racist vitriol at steven lim and demanding he step down as CEO shows a level of entitlement and childishness that, frankly, i wish they could have ignored, but they're both kinder & more patient than i am.

anyway congratulations to watcher on their new streaming service and their gorgeous new website, congratulations to the boys on a new step in their careers and on achieving something they've made clear they've wanted for ages, thank you to the boys for all their hard work and for sharing their creativity with us. thank you too for taking such a big and genuinely brave step to no longer be beholden to major corporations and advertisers so you can make the art you want to make. thank you to steven lim for taking so many steps back to keep the company running and for doing your best in a shit economy and while being targeted by this kind of nastiness online. and thank you to the entire team at @wearewatcher for continuing to do amazing work despite being treated like shit by the fan community at large on the internet while you're trying to make a living and create art. you all deserve better than you've been shown of late and i hate that such an exciting moment got overshadowed by so many temper tantrums.

because the whole fucking point, the dream, is getting to make the art that matters to them, without being held back. i'm sorry y'all don't want the heavily produced and high quality shit but your preferences as a member of an audience are not the law by which artists should abide. they are artists and they are free to, and deserve to, make the art they want to make.

#watcher #watcher entertainment #how people treat steven is insane #but also so is dick riding them still #the parasocial relationship has got ya hard #they’re not our friends they make a product for us #and they keep making expensive bad ones #so i cant get the expensive good ones i like #also the whole concept of youtube like ripping them off is so silly #literally us watching the ads is telling that conpany ‘give this person money’

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the-almighty-gob-john-langley · 10 months ago

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They're Escaping the Asylum, and Running Things!

Here I go again, repeating myself, I know. As potentially boring as it may be, something tells me that you, my friend, may well be as exasperated as me by now. So, here we go. Let's share a common vent as we continue to highlight the sheer idiocy of others nowadays.

Where shall we begin? I know, how about The image of a dead lion being swarmed by bees to be dropped from some of Lyle's Golden Syrup packaging. Question one: who actually cares enough about a graphic on a tin can no one even notices anyway? Question two: What relevance, if any does an insignificant graphic have on a buying decision if someone wants a tin of golden syrup? Not me, for sure, and finally, Question three: who is the marketing numpty who considered this a good idea, and did it cause them to lose any sleep due to the graphic which has been in place for somewhere around 150 years without any bother whatsoever? Actually, I have just thought of one further question. Does this person not have a hobby, because clearly he/she/it has far too much time on their hands.

In a similar vein, I was asked by a news channel to participate in a live broadcast about the statue of Bristol's Edward Colston, earlier this week, as later on that day Bristol city council would be having a meeting regarding its future. My point is that the Colston statue has been in place since seventeen hundred and something, with millions of people passing it by since then on their way to and from work, to schools, universities, for business meetings and conferences, and tourists and shoppers alike, all going about whatever they had to do at the time.

To all intents and purposes, no one gave so much as a flying fig about it because it was just there, and pretty much invisible to all except a self-entitled minority over the past few years who suddenly felt oh, so offended by its presence - poor dears, pulled it down, and then returned home to, I presume, watch children's television following their petulant outburst without even the satisfaction of receiving so much as a Blue Peter badge for their efforts. Awww. Still, as long as it served to feed their oversized egos they were happy, bless them. Meanwhile, of course, the majority of Bristol 'adult's did the adult thing and averted their gaze to the Colston statue, as similarly, the same can be said for those who bought golden syrup over the years.

What next then? Aha, yes, here's another among the loonies who, newly born, deserved to have been baptised in a font of sulphuric acid to save the rest of us from their later life moronisitis (yes, I just made that word up). The prize pillock here is whichever employee of the National Multiple Sclerosis Society (MS) decided to sack pensioner Fran Itkoff from her volunteer position with the charity because she "asked what pronouns meant". Fran Itkoff had served the non-profit for multiple sclerosis patients for 60 years, with her late husband running the Long Beach Lakewood chapter before his death.

She was left stunned when her bosses forced her to step down on January 19 following an exchange with a colleague who asked her to use her pronouns in email signatures. Well now, isn't this "colleague" just full of her own self-importance, or what? I'm surprised her ego doesn't get in the way of her entering whatever building doorway gives her access to her work. Aren't you? Pronouns, my arse, get over yourself woman before you fall off your high horse and injure yourself. These people aren't even worth the satire. Hence, as soon as people begin thrusting their inane pronouns at me in any communication I go incommunicado with immediate effect until they've got over themselves, or, penguins takeover Parliament. Whichever is sooner. I'm not fussed.

Shall we all now deep-breathe for a couple of minutes before I move on? Very well.

Ready for the next assault on your common sense, are you? Good. So, how about this one? Charity umbrella group Wildlife and Countryside Link claim that the British countryside is a "racist colonial" white space. You see, lunatics like this would be enough to drive the sane of our population on the phone to the Samaritans helpline 24/7, wouldn't they? I feel a headache coming on just from writing about it! Which, of course, leads me towards some smartarse saying, "Well, the majority of 'adults would avert their gaze," I suppose. Yeah, yeah, there's always one! Except, like most, I hope, normal, common-sense people with even a modicum of intelligence would recognise blatant, and quite unnecessary stupidity when they see it.

Whoever dreamed this idea up is clearly scraping whatever barrels of employment they can find that enables them to keep their, no doubt, high-paid job. Simply finding problems where none exist to justify their status and salary by stating the countryside as "'racist space dominated by white people' as well as, and wait for it. Yes, grip on to something firm now, "The UK’s role in the European colonial project has also driven the current climate and nature crises."

"European colonial project"? What the hell is that supposed to be? Do you know the worst part about this? Someone has probably been to university for three, or four years, to learn this tripe. It continues, "People of colour in the UK are significantly less likely to visit natural spaces." Give me a break! I'm surprised whoever didn't go further in stating that whenever a black person is seen in the countryside the locals assume it's an African missionary come to convert them all to Christianity because they are such a rare sight out in the sticks. I can just picture it now, loads of white people hurriedly retreating back to their homes, scared out of their wits at the sight of a black face.

Look, lighthearted humour aside, I don't know about you, but I've seen skin of all colours meandering around the countryside and enjoying it. Some people of ethnic minorities have even discovered we have things called buses, coaches, and even trains here in England. How cool is that! If people search hard enough they'll even find out how to use our buses, coaches, and trains too. Wow, twenty-first Britain, who'd have thought it? However, sometimes I do wonder for myself. So, despite this person's claims, and the transport systems we have in place, I'd say it's more a case of lack of interest combined with laziness that fewer people of colour are seen in the countryside, wouldn't you agree?

Finally, because I simply cannot continue with more of this lunacy without an entire month of Valium to calm my increasingly shredding nerves, I arrive at Pillock Central as the final destination on this particular journey, and Labour MP (seems about right so far - no pun intended) Charlotte Nichols, who was either taking the proverbial, or awaiting psychiatric intervention perhaps, and wanted to change the law to let dead people switch their gender. Hey hun, as much as I hate to state the bleeding obvious. Once you're dead, you're dead. It's a terminal thing, you know? No one is going to rise up out of their grave and complain. Trust me, and move on.

I'm done!

#john langley blog #bristol #john langley bristol writer #john langley author #john langley tumblr #google #bristol live #Golden Syrup #Tate and Lyle lion #edward colston #National Multiple Sclerosis Society #multiple sclerosis #Wildlife and Countryside Link #racism #discrimination #Charlotte Nichols MP #Trans #transgender

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chortu · 9 months ago

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I would push back on a few of the things here. I'm sure no one intends to create strawmen to tear down or propose a bad faith argument, but I feel some of the statements here get close.

The argument hinges on the anecdote of the volunteer who had a prolonged, public, heated discussion with others in a channel devoted to talking about the conflict between Israel and Palestine (the fact this channel existed in the first place in any semi-professional environment is the real wild part. Free Palestine, for sure, but this channel is an HR nightmare boiling pot).

All volunteers were addressed after the argument, which was again, heated on all sides. The story that a volunteer was let go or run out for a slack status boils it down to a bad faith argument. Any and every volunteer involved in that argument would be brought up to HR in the US, and most probably terminated. Every individual was derogatory and demeaning to one another.

Regarding political statements, saying that a non-profit in the US is allowed to make political statements as long as it does not reference a specific political candidate is such a significant oversimplification as to be a strawman. The political activity restraints and the legislative activity restraints are two separate topics from the IRS.

I would recommend this seminar from the IRS, which goes into the details of what lobbying is allowed or not. About halfway through the seminar, under the tab issue advocacy: "On the other hand, it may advocate for or against a particular issue, as long as that advocacy furthers its mission." It continues on to say that you don't need to mention a candidate, a platform, or even a certain political stance. When the IRS determines the mission of your nonprofit, they are looking at the utilitarian function of the org:

"A clearly articulated mission, adopted by the board of directors, serves to explain and popularize the charity’s purpose and guide its work. It also addresses why the charity exists, what it hopes to accomplish, and what activities it will undertake, where, and for whom."

For those linking other issue advocacy OTW has done in the past, the OTW is able to argue to the IRS that the topics they advocated are directly prescient to the org's very specific goal regarding transformative works. I suppose they could make the argument that protecting a Palestinian's right to exist would also protect their right to create transformative works, but I don't think the IRS would buy that.

More importantly, no lawyer would advise that OTW come out with a stance on this topic. One might think the IRS wouldn't consider a stance against genocide a political argument, but uhh. Actually look back at that sentence. Does anyone really think the IRS would not consider a stance against genocide to be political? The OTW response about comment moderation addresses the user's concern about pile-ons in a professional way.

In conclusion,

the OTW is not zionist for having some HR volunteer censure all parties involved in a public argument about an armed conflict.

The OTW is not zionist for not taking a stance on the armed conflict -- those who argue this would fall under protected issue advocacy on OTW's part have the right to this opinion, but very few lawyers would agree with them.

This doesn't mean I agree with the OTW handling of these issues. Zixin Z. issue handling was egregious. Their HR "department" needs an immediate dressing down from whatever cultural org investigation they contracted.

But let's not boil down these long internal discussions into strawmen arguments for us to deconstruct at our pleasure. It wasn't just about a slack status. IRS rules for nonprofits aren't just about political campaigns. Constructive criticism requires all parties to examine their own language for logical fallacies.

on ao3's current fundraiser

apparently it’s time for ao3’s biannual donation drive, which means it’s time for me to remind you all, that regardless of how much you love ao3, you shouldn’t donate to them because they HAVE TOO MUCH MONEY AND NO IDEA WHAT TO DO WITH IT.

we’ve known for years that ao3 – or, more specifically, the organization for transformative works (@transformativeworks on tumblr), or otw, who runs ao3 and other fandom projects – has a lot of money in their “reserves” that they had no plans for. but in 2023, @manogirl and i did some research on this, and now, after looking at their more recent financial statements, i’ve determined that at the beginning of 2024, they had almost $2.8 MILLION US DOLLARS IN SURPLUS.

our full post last year goes over the principles of how we determined this, even though the numbers are for 2023, but the key points still stand (with the updated numbers):

when we say “surplus”, we are not including money that they estimate they need to spend in 2024 for their regular expenses. just the extra that they have no plan for

yes, nonprofits do need to keep some money in reserves for emergencies; typically, nonprofits registered in the u.s. tend to keep enough to cover between six months and two years of their regular operating expenses (meaning, the rough amount they need each month to keep their services going). $2.8 million USD is enough to keep otw running for almost FIVE YEARS WITHOUT NEW DONATIONS

they always overshoot their fundraisers: as i’m posting this, they’ve already raised $104,751.62 USD from their current donation drive, which is over double what they’ve asked for! on day two of the fundraiser!!

no, we are not trying to claim they are embezzling this money or that it is a scam. we believe they are just super incompetent with their money. case in point: that surplus that they have? only earned them $146 USD in interest in 2022, because only about $10,000 USD of their money invested in an interest-bearing account. that’s the interest they earn off of MILLIONS. at the very least they should be using this extra money to generate new revenue – which would also help with their long-term financial security – but they can’t even do that

no, they do not need this money to use if they are sued. you can read more about this in the full post, but essentially, they get most of their legal services donated, and they have not, themselves, said this money is for that purpose

i'm not going to go through my process for determining the updated 2024 numbers because i want to get this post out quickly, and otw actually had not updated the sources i needed to get these numbers until the last couple days (seriously, i've been checking), but you can easily recreate the process that @manogirl and i outlined last year with these documents:

otw’s 2022 audited financial statement, to determine how much money they had at the end of 2022

otw’s 2024 budget spreadsheet, to determine their net income in 2023 and how much they transferred to and from reserves at the beginning of 2024

otw’s 2022 form 990 (also available on propublica), which is a tax document, and shows how much interest they earned in 2022 (search “interest” and you’ll find it in several places)

also, otw has not been accountable to answering questions about their surplus. typically, they hold a public meeting with their finance committee every year in september or october so people can ask questions directly to their treasurer and other committee members; as you can imagine, after doing this deep dive last summer, i was looking forward to getting some answers at that meeting!

but they cancelled that meeting in 2023, and instead asked people to write to the finance committee through their contact us form online. fun fact: i wrote a one-line message to the finance committee on may 11, 2023 through that form, when @manogirl and i were doing this research, asking them for clarification on how much they have in their reserves. i have still not received a response.

so yeah. please spend your money on people who actually need it, like on mutual aid requests! anyone who wants to share their mutual aid requests, please do so in the replies and i’ll share them out – i didn’t want to link directly to individual requests without permission in case this leads to anyone getting harassed, but i would love to share your requests. to start with, here's operation olive branch and their ongoing spreadsheet sharing palestinian folks who need money to escape genocide.

oh, and if you want to write to otw and tell them why you are not donating, i'm not sure it’ll get any results, but it can’t hurt lol. here's their contact us form – just don’t expect a response! ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

#feel free to examine mine!#OTW HR “department” does suck #But when we argue why they suck #We will have a cogent argument made better by disussion #and not glib gotcha phrases #anyhow free palestine

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