#or that would appear thanks to the algorithm or whatever

[ishikawayukis]

idols stop being obsessed with the wizard boy challenge fucking failed

[aethelwyneleigh27]

Our Throne of Ruin

Chapter One: Blood-Stained Hand of a Royal

Plus-size/Chubby afab! fem! Princess!Reader x Villain!Simon

Warnings and Disclaimers: Violence, Assault, and Attempted Sexual Assault?? (Not by Simon, it is disgusting and uncomfortable so please do not continue if you have a faint heart), Gore, Severed Body Parts, Decapitation.

Genres: Romance, x Reader Insert, Alternate Universe, Dark Fantasy, Fantasy AU, Royalty AU, Villain AU, Arranged Marriage, Dark Romance??

Throne Of Blood and Ruin Playlist <3

My CoD Masterlist and Series Masterlist <3

If you prefer to read it in Wattpad's format (Please leave comments) <3

A/n: A repost of this in hopes that the Tumblr algorithm is just fucking with me because I'm so heartbroken about the lack of interaction. Unfairly odd for you guys to ignore sum like this. I'm sorry to those expecting a new chapter. Whichever one does better will be included in the Masterlist. If this and the first one doesn't work then I'm quitting writing and Tumblr istg.

"My lady, these appear to be exceedingly valuable," Leticia, your young handmaiden, exclaimed breathlessly as she held up the ruby-encrusted silver earrings against your ears to see how they would look on you.

"I'm certain the lord who dispatched it desires a royal womb for their heirs," you said with a scoff, rolling your eyes, as you favored jewelry received as genuine gifts over bribes.

Leticia offered a simple smile, setting aside the jewelry she held into the untouched box, and instead, she searched for the ones you favored most… gold, diamonds, and pearls.

Earrings that match the pearls and gold details on the bodice of your dress perfectly, complemented by a crown crafted from the same materials as the jewels dangling from your ears.

Your senior handmaiden, Agatha, attempted to kneel and place your walking jewelry on your feet.

"Agatha! What are you doing?" you exclaimed, though the answer was clear to you. Before she could reply, you interjected, "No, please. I appreciate your willingness to serve, but don't kneel; it could injure you."

With a sigh, you stood from your vanity seat and helped her to her feet. She responded with a smile brimming with thankfulness.

"As kind and caring as ever, Your Highness," she said, lifting the small basin filled with rosewater to wash your hands, then gently wiping them with a white cloth dampened in the scented water.

The gods are aware that the woman has aged gracefully, yet there's concern she may injure herself with the relentless demanding tasks handmaidens endure. You slip on your shoes while Leticia unravels your hair from the curling cloths.

"What would you like done with your hair, my lady?"

"Pearls, Leticia…" you murmured, gazing into the mirror.

Once your handmaidens had finished preparing you, Leticia suggested a leisurely walk. She knew you might use this as the perfect opportunity to have an encounter with those vying for affection.

With a light melody on your lips, you wandered the castle's ramparts with an air of freedom.

You turn to a corner to find a man, only you could assume was a contender as well. Dressed in whatever garb their nation was to consider fashion, he had two knights along either side of him. The way he held himself, you could already tell. How arrogant.

You walked past him without much care to greet him, a test to see how he'd take rejection. He commands his knights to leave him be, striding next to you.

"I must admit I wasn't expecting to be graced with your presence so soon." He said you didn't respond verbally. Instead choosing to raise a brow at his statement, clearly not realizing that he's talking to you far too casually for your liking.

He scoffs, trying to wrap his arm around your shoulder to which you shrugged his hand off. "You reek of ale and brothels" you whispered to yourself as you subtly waved off the smell of his breath from your face.

You felt an almost cracking pain on your wrist as you were yanked back, your eyes widened, he had heard you.

You tried to free yourself but instead, he pulled the clasp and chain of your necklace, effectively choking you with the decorative metal against your skin. You pried your hands between it and your neck, desperately trying to claw his grip off.

The pain was unlike anything you had ever experienced, burning intensely. Your breaths were shallow and frantic. Tears welled up uncontrollably, spilling over.

It felt as though the muffled choking sounds were yours alone as your body convulsed. Your windpipe seemed to be caving under an unyielding grip, with every attempt to breathe met by an impenetrable barrier.

A wet, sloppy tongue dragged across your cheek, leaving a slimy trail that made your skin crawl. The unexpected touch was cold and clammy, like the lick of a serpent, and the stench of sour mixed with the pungent smell of fermented bitterness in his breath lingered in the air.

Your stomach churned with disgust as your body flinched away from his chest which he forcibly pressed against your back. Disgusting bastard, his chuckling fueled your nerves with more anger and fear.

"Pretty, defenseless little princess.." You attempted to protest, but it emerged as nothing more than a feeble whimper.

Someone, help me. Please...

You prayed for the air, for someone...

It wasn't until he was yanked away that you heard a thud, and you began to violently cough, the pressure on your throat finally easing. Collapsing to your knees, you groaned from the sudden pain, crawling away before turning to see what had transpired.

The man who just attempted to assault you on the ground and unconscious as an unrecognizable but broad figure retreated to the shadows out of the corner of your eye, just observing.

All your life, you've felt like s prey to the disgusting eyes of men older than your father, this wasn't new.

"My lady!" The scream of your handmaiden, Leticia, echoed as she rounded the corner in search of you. Panic etched her features, tears brimming at the sight of the redness on your neck.

You deemed it unwise to inform your king of the incident, especially since he was the one attempting to auction you off to a man who fancied himself a god among men.

You dusted your gown off as you instructed Leticia to ask for a tonic at the castle's apothecary, your throat nearly giving out at the soreness.

You had opted to seek solace at your place of worship before continuing through the not-so-exciting festivities your father arranged, despite your attempts to distract yourself, you cannot shake off the feeling of being watched.

Something waiting to pounce at you from within the shadows..

Prayer beads, it wasn't in your pockets.

You continue to pat around your body. "My lady, you seem troubled. Is something amiss?" Leticia asked, concern never leaving her tone since the events that transpired.

"My prayer beads, I must've misplaced or dropped them earlier," You mumbled.

"Oh.." was all she could respond, she knew how cherished that item was to you, being passed down from your mother.

"I'll make sure to find them later on, I swear that on my own mother," she lifted her palm, and a small smile broke from your lips at the promise.

You get up from your knees to set the candle you've lit down on the foot of the monument of the goddess of marriage and fertility, payers inclined to help you find a husband, unlike your father. Hoping your mother will also hear your prayers in the afterlife.

"Leticia, my shawl please" You sighed. She slipped the thin fabric over your exposed shoulders and replaced your colored veil with your earlier embellishments.

...

You composed yourself as well as possible, attempting to breathe steadily and keep your eyes open to avoid flashes of the experience from just a few hours before by picking the skin next to your nails.

Gripping your aching neck, you felt the imprints of the recent assault. As your gaze shifted to the entrance, the massive doors groaned, pushed open by the servants outside.

From the comfort of your cushioned throne, you surveyed the assembly, noting how the sound redirected their attention to the entrance, just as your eyes had done moments before.

The usual commotion and conversation that overlapped one another at such an event died out faster than poison could kill a rat, all sounds replaced by the clanking of metal... most can recognize the hollow sound of armor and the sharp end of a sword scratching the stone floor.

There a familiar broad man stood. You can't quite put your finger on it, but his face is like something out of your dreams, masked with a knight's great helm.

The silence was defending as he left the people speechless or much rather afraid to speak of anything, covered in blood and some flesh stood a stranger.

He made his way in, the crowds of nobles making a path for him as he did. The carpet beneath him somehow cushioning his heavily metal-cladded steps.

Your eyes widened at the sight of the stranger as he got closer, only now seeing what he had by his side while he hastily threw his great helm on the ground to pay his respect in court.

The severed head of the noble who tried to lay a hand on you, holding it by the fistful of hair as the blood from the neck stained the fur carpet below it.

You hear the king beside you as he chokes. He could not control his breathing, seeming to be on the verge of a heart attack.

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?! YOU INSOLENT BASTARD, YOU'LL PAY FOR THIS!" One of the nobles in the crowd screamed with much anger, must be his father or a figure of some sort.

The man attempts to lunge at the man in armor but is held back by three of the palace knights. Loud clanking as the lord hit the armored men over and over.

Oddly enough, you weren't terrified after the initial shock. The man that stood before you severed the head of the same man who tried to commit an unforgivable act on you, it was almost poetic in its own way... satisfying even.

He knelt before you instead of your father, much to your surprise. Gasps and murmurs emulated from the nobles and royals present, apart from the screaming guardian of the beheaded suitor.

He had no respect for the head he held as he threw it on the side, having it roll to the king's feet who had no words of offense as he was too shocked to utter anything but silent stuttering.

On one knee the man with blood-soaked presumably light hair remained, his head down, eyes still on the floor. You stood up from your throne, head held high as you walked towards the armored fellow.

The intricate precious metal encrusted with priceless jewels hung on your ears and swayed along with the ones in your hair. The train of your silk gown flows effortlessly behind you.

Your eyes on him at every step, he lifted his gaze from down below onto you, his hand shifting. Uncertain of what to anticipate, you watched as he extended his hand toward you, palm open, the callouses on his fingers beckoning you closer.

You care not for the blood that stained his hand and caked under his nails, so you hesitantly slipped your fingers in his, heart pounding out of your chest as the stranger bathed in blood grinned at seeing your hand in his.

He gripped your hand in the most gentle way you've ever had anyone touch you. He lightly tugged on your arm and let you naturally step closer with his guidance as he brought the back of your hand up to his lips.

You felt his dry yet warm lips on your knuckles, eyes up on you as he looked for approval. You blinked, and for a moment your eyes drifted to the severed head.. its own open but soulless before you reverted your gaze back to the man who has your hand.

With another kiss on your ring, he releases your hand. You gaze at it, noticing how the blood has stained it in an effortlessly abstract pattern.

Breathlessly staring at your hand, now tainted with the filthy blood of one of the bastards who hurt and wronged you. Staring back at you, presenting an opportunity on a silver platter, all just for you...

Series Taglist: @wishesforyou @puff0o0 @simping4konig @simp4konig @blingblong55 @azereus @rustic-guitar-notes @callsignsnowpunisher @anonymuslydumb @skeletalgoats @icarustypicalfall @connorsui @capuccino192 @miss-gms-and-the-rotten-womb @celestialhole @the-second-sage @starryylies @duck-a-doodle @everlastingmoonlightsworld @keiva1000 @drewsmusee @sommii @sleep101 @blueladys-world @myspaceisra @bumblebeesfromvenus @penumbrie @nicolebarnes

[unsoldd]

TADC Prompt

AU: Escaped, as well as Human Caine + Bubble

Relationships: Bunnydoll, Showtime, Gangle x Zooble, and Kinger x Queenie

<•>

In this alternate universe Caine was actually the first human trapped in the digital circus game by his own brother, Able, because he wanted their company all to himself. But Caine figured out that if you twist the ear piece of the headset then you could leave the game. But to make sure Caine would not try to escape they trapped his six year old daughter Bethany (Bubble) in the game as well. They manipulated Caine and Bethany’s minds to make them believe they were AI, and so when new victims were trapped and were confused why Caine was an AI but could not do anything they gave him admin commands. They also made sure Bethany (Bubble) had no arms so IF Caine did end up remembering he would not leave because he would be leaving his daughter behind.

Caine and Bubble do end up remembering that they are real people and not AI thanks to all the members of the circus glitching into what we see Pomni enter in episode two with Gummigoo. They then leave thanks to Caine and enter the human world…

That’s when we learn that when one day passes in the digital world it is only an hour in the real world, so they haven’t missed much… if you don’t count Caine, Bethany and Kinger, as well as the rest which have been abstracted (and we also learn that when a human is abstracted they actually leave the digital world). That’s when we get everyone’s real names:

• Caine the Ringleader is actually Caine Eden, co-founder and head game designer for C&A, as well as a single father to his now (whatever age) year old daughter Bethany.

• Bubble the Assistant(?) is actually Bethany Eden, only daughter to Caine Eden.

• Kinger the Chess Piece is actually Kenneth King, AI specialist for C&A (thanks to the 7 years of computing science in episode 3), husband to Quinn King and father to Paige King.

• Queenie the Other Chess Piece is actually Quinn King, curator of insects (because she likes bugs), wife to Kenneth King and mother to Paige King.

• Pomni the Jester is actually Paige King, algorithm developer for C&A, daughter to Kenneth and Quinn King.

• Ragatha the Rag Doll is actually Ruth Ann, solutions architect for C&A, younger sister to Arthur Ann and Randy Ann.

• Jax the Rabbit is actually Jackson Burrow, app developer for C&A, older brother to Jane Burrow.

• Gangle the Mask is actually Gabriella Satin, team behind the design in making for games characters at C&A, twin sister to Gabriel Satin and girlfriend to Zara Parts

• Zooble the Rubix Cube is actually Zara Parts, games developer for C&A, partner to Gabriella Satin.

• Kaufmo the Clown is actually Kyle Smiles, machine learning engineer for C&A.

<•>

Appearances can be all up to you and you do not need to keep the names or jobs I have listed on top.

Of course like my other prompts this is free to use and credit is not need. I was just bored and thought this was a good idea. And I’ll gladly take in suggestions that you think will be a good story and expand upon it.

[catherinetheprincessofwales]

The Guardian view on the Princess of Wales: she has the right to heal privately- Editorial

A cancer diagnosis is shocking for anyone, but particularly for younger people, in whom cancer is much rarer. In the UK, adults aged 25 to 49 account for 9% of new cases. For people with dependent children, this dreadful news can be even harder to manage; sometimes the person most upset by bad news is not the patient. It was clear from Friday’s video recording of the Princess of Wales that the impact of her illness on her three children – aged 10, eight and five – was foremost among the reasons why the news was kept from the public until then. Her explanation resonated with millions of people, whatever their opinions about the royal family. The sharing of more details about the future queen’s health was inevitable. Her three-month absence, after a 13-day hospital stay and abdominal surgery in January, led to an information vacuum. The coincidence of the king’s cancer diagnosis – and the fact that the pair were in the same private London hospital at the same time – served to magnify interest in the royal family’s health. The issuing of a digitally altered photograph of Catherine with her children to mark Mother’s Day (10 March in the UK this year) was a disastrous misstep. Far from cooling the rumours about her absence, the furore surrounding the image’s withdrawal by picture agencies – on the grounds that it had been manipulated – poured fuel on the fire. However, one former adviser said at the weekend that while the choreography of Friday’s announcement might have changed as a result, the timing did not. The family was determined not to tell the public until the children broke up from school. By appearing on camera, and making the announcement herself, Catherine has done what she can to calm the media frenzy. In a two-minute message, filmed by the BBC, she thanked people for their support and understanding – a message echoed at the weekend by Kensington Palace. But she was also very clear in her appeal for “time, space and privacy” while she undergoes chemotherapy. This is an appeal that must be granted. Even for holders of high-profile public roles, illness is a deeply private matter, unfolding as it does inside the body. Catherine, who is 42, made a point of being positive in her statement, saying she is “well and getting stronger”. But cancer is a serious illness and chemotherapy is a challenging treatment. Curiosity about her condition comes with the territory. She is the wife of the future head of state, not an ordinary citizen. Netflix’s The Crown, Harry and Meghan’s move to the US and Prince Andrew’s disgrace have all fed the global appetite for royal drama – and blurred the line between fact and fiction. In our social media age, anyone with an account has a platform to share their fantasies, however cranky – indeed the algorithms of some platforms seem to positively encourage it. But in recent weeks the rumours swirling around Catherine have become prurient and unpleasant, as gossip has shaded into conspiracy theories. No single politician or media organisation has the power to end such speculation. But journalists and public figures can set an example. Those who treated Catherine’s illness as a voyeuristic guessing game should be ashamed – as some have already admitted. Most of us have no idea what it would be like to have such personal information so widely shared. Despite her global celebrity, Catherine is entitled to privacy regarding her health. Once the apologies are out of the way, some reticence is called for.

[fruitgummies01]

Just a question out of curiosity.....That you said you became BTS's fan after jhope was already Enlisted which probably means after 18th April 2023 and initially you were kinda in tkkrs space as in u saw more of their content cause of algorithms or wtv So how did you become jikook's fan? What i mean is in 2023 there isn't much of jikook seen together like in all previous years, because previous yrs it's like jikook were attached at the hip compared to that they weren't really seen together much and i guess even after April 2023 there's Taekook appearances here and there too so without having much of jikook content at hand how did you thought that they were probably closer than others?

This is just a question out of curiosity cause honestly i thought that most of the people who would join around 2022-23 will always have this impression of jikook that they're just co-workers who work for the same band and nothing else lol. Not like antis don't try to spread that agenda everywhere since forever.

Hmmmm. I'm deciding whether to make this a long or short post haha, because I really have so much to say about this. When I first started getting into BTS there was just soooo much content, but one of the things that would constantly and consistently come up with be tkk content. And I don't even mean in the shipping sense (at least not at first). Large update accounts would post about them frequently, and almost all if not most posts would be about them under any content. It was like BTS as a group and then tkk, those were the two things that I was seeing on a regular basis. Being a new person to the fandom, you take what you see at face value, especially if so many big accounts seem to be cosigning what is being said (and again based on what you said, because there was a lack of any jikook content, a lot of people just weren't pushing back on a lot of things that were being pushed). . And because the algorithim is what it is, I started getting recommended tkk videos. And again because I didn't know any better, I would watch them and that again would shape my opinions of the other members without fully knowing it. I started to believe that tkk was the foundational friendship/rs/whatever you wanna call it ship within the group that everything pretty much revolved around if that makes.

Looking back on it, a lot of the videos that I would watch to get myself acquainted with the group painted Jimin as the one being all over Jungkook and not respecting his personal space and wanting attention, and they used (what I would find out later) to be manipulated videos or videos taken out of context. So I began to form these somewhat negative opinions of Jimin (which is ironic because he is now my bias).

But to answer your question, how did I become a fan of jikook, it sorta happened in stages. I already had in the back of my mind when I would watch compilation videos of BTS, that I really wasn't seeing any um, emotional chemistry between tkk (that's another story), but I over looked it because I just figured it was because I was new. I think I mentioned this before, but Tae being seen with Jennie in Paris was a HUGE eye opener. And honestly, I might still be wrapped up in that side of the fandom had that moment not happened. But I'm so thankful it did, because it allowed me to see with my own eyes, in real time just how they lied and gaslighted fans into believing that the whole thing never happened by making up these wild theories. That people just believed without any pushback, and how that information was just parroted back to other people in this sort of weird circle. My brain just isn't wired like that, so I stopped watching those compilation videos and edits because I realized none of those people were reliable (no offense), and went back to watch all official content (that actually painted a completely different picture).

Watching Jungkook's weverse lives played a big part in changing my opinion on Jikook and Jimin. That man would bring him up without fans having to say anything, and be happy to talk about him. And what's apparent about Jungkook in getting to know him, is he never fakes anything, so if he's talking about him, it means something to him. Both Jimin and Jungkook would also say things insinuating that they had watched the other's weverse lives, which I thought was interesting. That weverse live with JK in bed trying to entice Jimin to do a live was also another turning point. I still laugh thinking about JK saying he would take his stuff to wash up AT Jimin's house, when he could've just done so BEFORE leaving. JK was on a mission that morning haha.

I should say after all this lol, that I am still not 100% sold that they are in an actual romantic relationship. I see A LOT of signs that point in that direction, but with cultural differences anything could be possible. I do see a beautiful and deep bond, especially with these AYS episodes and them enlisting together right afterwards. Even though they were planning to spend every day together for 18 months, they still carved out time in their insanely busy schedules to spend even more time together filming AYS. Regardless of what their labels are, it's clear that they are both priorities in each others lives. I think they both need each other in real ways that are very different from the ways they need the other members. I wrote a lot so I'll stop here, but I could go on, but won't haha.

[4getfulimaginator2022]

A big thank you

Prelude: I never wanted to watch Game of Thrones. I never planned to invest in any of the characters from the show, and I had zero interest in the story. Some years ago, I was a devoted Once Upon a Time (ABC) fan. I enthusiastically watched every episode, and I belonged to a fandom for the first time in my life. It was an eye-opening experience, and then my newfound shipper heart grew tenfold with Captain Swan, the pairing between Emma (main character) and Killian (Captain Hook). We only hoped at first they would become a couple, and then our greatest dream eventually came true: they were a canon ship. I was so proud and thrilled. I never dreamed I could write anything longer than a short story, but here I was, penning over 500,000 words of fanfic for them. They were a shining light guiding me through storytelling, and I will never forget that they inspired me to write novel-length fics.

Sadly, all good things must come to an end. The fire died out. I had 3 unfinished fics left. And my original writing - the novels I wanted to create myself, apart from fanfic - was in shambles. My writing spark was disappearing. At some point these past several years, I wondered if I was actually meant to be a writer at all, or if I was just fooling myself. Was it all just a happy coincidence? My writer's block grew. I haven't written anything for the past 2 years.

Suddenly and quite unexpectedly, Jorah and Daenerys from Game of Thrones appeared in my YouTube recommendations just a few weeks ago. Only them, mind you. Maybe the algorithm had somehow figured out my previous obsession with Anastasia and Iskender from Magnificent Century: Kosem, a Turkish TV show with a doomed, unrequited love between a knight and the girl who would someday become his queen (beautiful score, by the way). Or maybe it wasn't that at all. My interest was piqued. Who was Jorah, and why was he so loyal to Daenerys? Loyalty intrigues me. It's one of the traits I treasure most in characters, so of course I went "down the rabbit hole" and found out everything there was to know about Jorah's relationship with Daenerys. Of course it had to be unrequited. Of course it never became canon. But I love it. It's a wonderful story of devotion, growth, caring. I get that people saw the age difference as an obstacle, but I think that Jorah's love was so rare in this world of selfish desires. It was refreshing - and very romantic. Cynic though I am in reality, I am at heart a romantic, and I always will be.

Continuing from YouTube and whatever I could glean, I found myself looking here on Tumblr for gifsets, fanfiction...and I visited AO3 after a prolonged absence to find every Jorleesi fanfic in existence. I laughed and smiled like I hadn't in such a long time.

Anyway, I'm so sorry to put this in the tags when I have nothing to offer but my sincere thanks. Thank you to all of you who love this ship. You helped a weary would-be writer get back on her feet and start typing again. Bless you! 💖 I'm so happy to be part of this lovely fandom.

[therealslimshakespeare]

What I don’t get is how you keep getting censored. I mean there’s plenty of blogs that post similar things without issue and it’s not like the TikTok algorithm which picks up on certain words and that 🤔🤔 just seems like tumblrs picking on you 😂

Anyway hope your transition to your new blog is as smooth as possible 💕

I know?! Last case was an accidental deletion but at least I knew how it happened, this time around it appears I’ve been anonymously reported as explicit. Which puzzles me as I’ve tried to keep to the guidelines and whatever mature stuff I have reblogged I’ve tried to meticulously tag as such and kept my mature fics under a 18+ cut. So, must've been some report, at this point I’m just tired of the hassle and would like to be able to navigate and communicate without interference. Thank you for the well wishes and for seeking me out on this new site! Xoxo Marina 💋

[skylarmoon71]

Eobard Thawne - (Flash) AU Chapter 16

He’s content with how well the situation concluded.

His team is safe.

You were with them.

As he sat in the cortex running through the updates, he placed his cheek in his palm, letting out a content sigh. Godspeed is locked up, no longer causing havoc.

Life literally could not get any better than this.

The very object of his affections comes waltzing into the room and he straightens.

“You’re always working, aren't you boss?”

Eobard grins.

“I am the leader after all. I’m just doing a sweep on our program. Caitlin does her best to provide new algorithms that assist us with stopping metas before they cause damage. The tech is more her field, so I’ve been trying to get more acquainted with it. It doesn’t hurt to be prepared.”

That is smart.

When you send him a little smile, he lets out a chuckle.

“What’s with the look?”

You shrug.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Don’t play coy, you just gave me a look.” He’s still wearing that smile.

“Completely in the dark.” You respond. He just shakes his head. It’s still a bit strange how normal this is.

This man used to be the biggest enemy of Team Flash, but as you look at him, you can’t help but be thankful. Whatever higher power did this helped not just Eobard, but also you. You’ve been through quite a lot in the last few years. But even after all of that, there is still an opportunity for an ending where you can actually be happy.

It’s all because of him.

You take a step, placing your hand on his cheek, and words seem to have fallen from his lips. His gaze is now fully fixed on you. You’re not sure what exactly that you’ve done to deserve the level of love that is displayed on this man’s face when he looks at you. He wears the badge of a leader, and he does his best to appear strong in every aspect. But when he looks at you, his feelings are always written all over his face.

It’s actually very adorable.

Although you both know how you feel, nothing has truly been said about your relationship. Especially after those countless kisses that seem to just occur at such a bad time.

Yet, right now, there’s no enemy attacking.

Nor is there some word changing event.

It’s just the two of you right now.

You can be honest.

“Eobard, would you..would you like to have dinner with me tomorrow?”

You can see the surprise so easily written on his face.

“A..A date?”

“Yes.”

You need to be extremely clear, because you don’t want any more misunderstandings. Nor do you intend to waste any more time beating around the bush.

“I’d love to.” Eobard replies.

Your smile is difficult to hide. He lifts his hand, placing it gently over yours. When he stands, you anticipate his next move. Eobard takes a step and as he’s about to lean in, the alarm goes off. Both of you turn to the computer, and Eobard lowers his head with a little laugh.

“I swear our biggest enemy is poor timing.”

You can’t help but agree with a giggle.

“You might be right.”

He’s still fairly close. Eobard leaves a kiss on your cheek.

“Let’s go stop some bad guys.”

You nod, as you both take off in a rush of sparks. 

[brightwanderer]

Hi helen, thanks for the explanations. Sorry for bothering you but can I ask,

Does locking fic next time I publish really help? Don't they have a way to breach Ao3's data since it's an AI? I also assume this isn't just sudowrites. Other AI writing services are probably doing so too, right? Like NovelAI

I'm afraid we're at about the limit of my knowledge here - I'm neither an industry expert on AI learning nor do I have the spoons for more research than I've done.

With that caveat, my understanding of the situation is this.

There is a "natural language" algorithm called GPT-3, which can be used by anyone to power their own apps (via subscription model) and has been trained on data from Common Crawl.

Common Crawl is a non-profit dedicated to archiving data from the internet and making it freely available to anyone. GPT-3 is the work of OpenAI, which also created the DALL-E visual art generator.

Sudowrite and other "novel generator" sites like it are using the GPT-3 base to generate "natural sounding" text. The stated goal of Sudowrite is to assist writers with their own work, by generating a couple more sentences when they're stuck, or new brainstorming ideas, or names for people and places.

One thing I do want to stress: this is NOT really an AI. There is no intelligence, decision-making, or independent action going on here. To explain it as simply as possible, what it does is a) look at what it's learned from ALL OF THE INTERNET, then b) look at a sentence you have given it (e.g. "it was a dark and stormy night"), then c) spit back out some content that, statistically, fits the patterns it has observed in all the other times someone has written "it was a dark and stormy night".

Given that you have to "train" GPT-3 towards whatever you specifically want it to do (fiction, news, chat bots, etc), and given that Sudowrite produces so much fandom-specific content so easily, I would guess that the Sudowrite version of GPT-3 has been given additional training using freely-available fanfiction, from AO3 or otherwise - but I do not know enough about the nuances of this technology to be sure.

So to answer your questions as best I can:

Locking your works on AO3 should protect them from being included in Common Crawl and similar datasets, I believe. This means they will also not be archived by the Internet Archive or appear on the Wayback Machine, will not appear in searches etc going forward, although anything that has already been archived will still be in those sets of data.

This may or may not do anything to keep them out of the pool for future generative algorithms.

This may or may not do anything to stop people specifically using fanfiction as additional training for creative writing AIs, depending on how they are obtaining that training data in the first place. (E.g. if everything on AO3 was locked tomorrow, someone could still just create an account and laboriously download a ton of random fic to use. Whether they would bother is another question.)

My personal take: we are long overdue a big conversation about data, and what is and should be freely available, and how content-creating AIs are being deployed and monetised. This is something that needs regulation and oversight, and we should be making a fuss about it.

(Not least because if you search the internet for "how to" articles on pretty much anything at this point, you will get a LOT of results written by this sort of AI generator. They look like real human text to start with, but as you read on you notice that there are weird little glitches, and then the instructions for making papier mache suddenly tell you to boil an egg, and you realise you can't actually trust anything you just read because it was auto-generated and may not work or be safe. True story.)

However. I am not myself concerned about the possibility that my writing has been used in this dataset. I don't like it or approve of it on a general level, but I don't believe it does me any harm or even meaningfully translates into "someone else profiting off my work". As far as I understand the technology, it will not be plagiarising any of my actual text. My biggest concern is with how readily it puts together context based on exisiting works. It's very obvious with something like Harry Potter, but if someone is looking for "names for magical items" and end up with three unique things I put in one of my stories and uses those in their work... yeah, that feels like a mess waiting to happen.

I'm also not concerned about AI "replacing" writers (or other artists). There is a lot more to creating art than putting words together or making brush-strokes. The AI can only spit out what was put into it, and it's always going to pick the most statistically likely option. That means in terms of storytelling, you will get cliche after cliche, empty dialogue that sounds good but doesn't mean anything, repeating the same themes with occasional nonsensical diversions for "variety", a general sense of hollowness and lack of actual human input...

... wait. Did anyone check whether Marvel's already using this thing?

[21secondsofchristoph]

This is probably the longest interview I've ever read.

"Why do you have to be happy all the time?"

Photo: Peter Rigaud/laif

Oscar winner Christoph Waltz in a long interview - about gold and dirt in Hollywood, careful filming, his role as a management consultant in "The Consultant", and the question of what Lufthansa did with his new Rimowa suitcase.

Interview by Alexander Gorkov

February 24, 2023

A long afternoon with coffee, cognac and cake. Christoph Waltz, visiting Berlin from Los Angeles, is always excited and attentive – he pauses between sentences and then always continues to formulate it ready for publication.

SZ : Management consultant Regus Patoff ostentatiously smells the young people who will report to him in the series “The Consultant” upon his arrival. He cuts his fingernails and nose hair in the office, he calls his people at three in the morning, monitors them...

Christoph Waltz: The fact that the young employees line up and I memorize their respective smells is a scene that immediately made sense to me when reading the pilot episode.

SZ: Which made reading fun?

CW: That's the thing about joy. Some things are fun, which then turn out to be rubbish. No, obvious, in the sense of light rising. Incidentally, at first I only knew the script for the pilot episode.

SZ: The books for the eight episodes weren't ready when it started?

CW: No, just the pilot. Then, after the whole production was okay, Tony Basgallop sat down and continued writing. Always in increments of two episodes. So when we were filming episode three, we didn't know what episode six was going to be like.

SZ: What about the Writers' Room, 20 authors, you imagine that would be more complex for a US production with an Oscar winner?

CW: That's already there. But that was not the case with the “Consultant”.

SZ: How much of it was created while shooting, i.e. spontaneously, also with regard to the character Regus Pattof?

CW: I can't say any more. Afterwards it might not matter anyway.

SZ: Jennifer Coolidge recently said she worked with the crew to develop this somnambulist of her character in "White Lotus" while we were shooting. Could these be signals that a certain desire for spontaneity and creativity is returning after rather bleak years in films and series?

CW: It would be nice anyway. Maybe word would slowly get around again that the fixation on algorithms and pie charts, i.e. on this alleged readability of the swarm behavior of viewers, does not tell any stories that could be worth experiencing for the viewer. So if there were no swarm at all. That filmed stories should be produced by film companies, not tech companies. With the unavoidable risks and side effects that always have an effect anyway.

SZ: The character of Regus Patoff, as diabolical as it is, is sometimes reminiscent of the characters of great comedians of yesteryear, whom one could, so to speak, watch while thinking...

CW: Thanks... Is the comparison possibly a bit bold?

SZ: There is a scene in "Sons of the Desert" in which Stan Laurel bites into an apple which he steals from what appears to be a fruit bowl - but it is not a real apple, but a decorative apple made of wax. And he thinks, and you can see it: Oops. So without making a grimace.

CW: Well...he doesn't think, "Oops!" He draws the viewer into his complication of recognition. He doesn't demonstrate clumsily how B follows A because that's what the script says. Rather, he involves himself and the viewer in an extremely complex process.

SZ: Namely?

CW: He bites into what he must think is a real apple because it looks like a real apple. Any normal prankster would now make a number out of the sudden recognition - spit out, suffocate, disgust, whatever the repertoire has to offer. But Stan Laurel sticks to the process: put to use as a real apple, the assumed reality now intensifies. He keeps chewing!

He calmly bites off more pieces, chews, swallows.

Under explainable difficulties. Which he still wonders about.Especially since he always secretly takes the apple from the fruit plate and puts it down again after biting into it. He doesn't want to get caught. And so he gets more and more involved and can't find out anymore. He has to eat the wax apple whether he wants to or not, even though the truth seems to be dawning on him.

SZ: You go nuts while watching...

CW: It's awesome. And to play that, this knowledge behind the lack of understanding - that requires very deep understanding, very deep knowledge. An insane intelligence too. But we're not just talking about a comedian here.

SZ: Rather?

CW: Genius...? Can one know?

SZ: Are we talking about the funniest two minutes in movie history?

CW: What would then be the second funniest and the least fun? I definitely want to avoid ranking, especially with a phenomenon like Stan Laurel. This perpetual ranking...blunt quantification. We thereby lose the ability to discuss the qualities.

SZ: Basically?

CW: Basically, of course. It takes constant attention, practice, and refinement, and it's tedious and tedious at times... I don't give a damn what rhetorical platitude any self-proclaimed expert can squeeze onto the internet about whatever.

SZ: But back to the faint hope of spontaneity and creativity...

CW: All I can say is that filming The Consultant was, of course, also an industrial process as a whole, which, however, miraculously relied largely on the non-industrial contribution of the individual. In this respect, this shooting differed significantly from what the series is about. Talented adults of different ages make their constructive contribution to the whole to the best of their knowledge and ability. It doesn't get much better than that... It's very different than, for example, checking in a suitcase at Lufthansa with childlike trust!

SZ: With the result?

CW: That I'll never see him again. And at Lufthansa, trying to get your suitcase back is a completely depersonalized and utterly industrial process.

SZ: Happens?

Happens.

SZ: Los Angeles – Frankfurt?

CW: Not at all! Munich – Berlin. I checked in the suitcase on December 16, 2022 – in the meantime, in the literal sense, in the box. I never saw the suitcase again. Not until today. A brand new Rimowa with nice things you've come to love inside.

SZ: How is the complaint made?

CW: Industrial. According to quantifiable measures. There has been a Property Irregularity Report, reference number BER-LH-33385, for more than two months. The Rimowa was originally supposed to be delivered to Berlin from Munich on December 30, 2022 with flight LH1934. I know all the numbers by heart. Some of the advisers at Lufthansa's complaints center also look familiar to me.

SZ: At least there's that.

CW: Yes, they are all very friendly, I have to say. They chat very understandingly, are diligent, give advice, and so one slips unnoticed into a labyrinth. You mutate into a process.

SZ: After all, one is a process. Isn't that a form of recognition?

CW: But on the contrary! You are fed into a digital metabolism and digested by the algorithm. The metabolic consequences do not deserve credit.

SZ: It is reminiscent of Kafka's trial. This is also possibly because the suitcase hasn't turned up again for two months.

CW: One is isolated, waiting, wandering around, lost in a digital labyrinth. For weeks, for months you think: where is my suitcase? I checked it in at a modern German airport with a leading airline on December 16th, 2022 to be returned to me at another modern German airport about an hour and a half later the same day.

SZ: With the result?

CW: Why result? It wasn't any of the two. Neither modern nor handed over.

SZ: Part of the fascination here is certainly that you ask yourself: What could be the reason for the apparently complete disappearance of the suitcase?

CW: For example, someone from Lufthansa recently told me that the weather was bad on December 16th. In the winter? In Munich? Snow and ice? For real?! That's why the train that my wife and I had originally booked was already cancelled... So did the suitcase fall out of the plane? It's a kind of conjecture industry, depending on which of the always friendly people at Lufthansa I'm talking to. Everyone suspects something different.

SZ: It may have been stolen.

CW: Even very likely - after all, a very personal and analogous twist of the story. Or it just got lost. Also analogue. If it were a medical emergency, I would have been dead weeks ago.

SZ: How about appearing as a sadist to Lufthansa and becoming unpleasant?

CW: I've thought about it. But nobody cares anyway. Because the friendly Lufthansa people are the biological extensions of the algorithm. It's definitely in the contract of employment.

SZ: Is Regus Patoff a sadist in The Consultant?

CW: I see it more as an attempt at correction. Or an excommunicated Archangel. A Knight of the Grail. He also does a job.

SZ: Which?

CW: He appears in the gaming company "CompWare" and confronts the young programmers with the ruthlessness of his methods with, how to put it...

SZ: ... oneself?

CW: Yourself and each other, yes. You then ask yourself a few essential questions: Am I still capable of making qualitative distinctions or only quantitative ones? So am I doing things for their quality or for their usability? By fixating on the short-term, quantitative usability of my work, am I anticipating obedience, an obedience that no political dictatorship forces me to? Do I still use my brain, which was made for the most complex tasks, or will I become a kind of task-specific artificial intelligence and will therefore soon be replaced by one? So in the end do I subordinate everything to this one and supposedly essential condition – usability, short-term economization?

SZ: A series about conformity?

CW: A hopefully entertaining series about conformity. Our business is entertainment. And yes: about conformity and what it takes to question it.

SZ: What does it take, courage?

CW: Courage is a jargon word. Everyone has courage - or thinks they have it, no? Even the heavily subsidized think they have guts. I can't really hear the talk of courage anymore.

SZ: So what does it require?

CW: Rather, does it require... effort, effort? It requires a brain, an on-going one. Our brain can distinguish between quality and quantity, it doesn't take any courage to do that. The brain can do it just like that - if it is reasonably well fed.

SZ: On the other hand, when since 1968 were some young people noticeably less conform than they are today? They demonstrate for climate protection, are language-sensitive, gender-sensitive, against racism, against ...

CW: So so ...

SZ: Yes, yes.

CW: Yes, yes, yes.

SZ: No?

CW: But. Naturally. And rightly so.However, I cannot understand that these sensibilities would be new apart from their preparation and the jargon. People haven't always thrown mush at paintings and blamed Vincent van Gogh to feed the networks spectacle, that's true. Since the Club of Rome report in the early 1970s, however, people have been demonstrating against environmental destruction, in Wackersdorf they did it in the mid 1980s, since the 1970s at the latest it has been about the rights of gays and lesbians, in the 1980s against discrimination against people infected with HIV , in the early 1980s half a million people ran through Bonn against the retrofitting – in the lead the Greens party, which is particularly active in this context today. Apropos - few figures in Germany fascinate me more than the Panzergrenadier from the Greens ...

SZ: Anton Hofreiter?

CW: Excellent material for a comedy. A transport expert does not become Minister of Agriculture after the election. So he stiffens, turns tomato red with anger – and is an expert on armament issues. boom.

SZ: At the same time, speaking of conformity, young people today are more likely to ask themselves the question of work-life balance, i.e. quality of life rather than pure income quantity .

CW: Can you balance yourself prophylactically? Even before it really starts to wobble? I don't know... In France, 17-year-olds are demonstrating against pension reform, right?

SZ: Well, a man from a leading management consultancy in Munich recently told me that highly qualified people have recently been telling him more often during job interviews: They are more interested in a four-day week than in more money, the competition is offering them that.

CW: This is initially understandable from the point of view of the consumer. The producer certainly has a different perspective because he might sooner or later lose the consumers, right? Which then makes the four-day week absolutely necessary. But then it is no longer a profit. So who is balancing what then? Or who? And could these job interviews be more of a European phenomenon?

SZ: Aren't the mindfulness consultants in the greater California area eager to proclaim this inner pendulum?

CW: Yes, maybe... And why? Voluntarily? The American person has to constantly make money, so does the mindfulness consultant with her web shop. The American man defines himself economically. In my area, with actors for example, especially those who have big plans, is it about work-life balance? They need follow-up contracts, they want to be part of a possible second season, the health insurance has to be paid for, school, kindergarten have to be paid for, life has to be paid for – not to forget the entertainment, i.e. the distraction from all of that also has to be paid for become. Not glamorous. Both parents work, not for reasons of social progress, but like crazy, and because there is no other way. Withoutwork no life , so work is better then – that would be the balance .

SZ: What's wrong with not getting gutted?

CW: Nothing! On the contrary. It is important not to be left out. Among other things, "The Consultant" is about. Of being literally gutted behind that mindful facade of colorful booths and walking around barefoot to feel yourself, and all that horrific, humiliating gibberish. About how the so-called creative people in particular completely subordinate themselves to economic success. And also from letting yourself be gutted. With what I am saying, I am only describing reality as I perceive it: economic success is the quality that constitutes the collective subconscious of the United States par excellence. Ranking makes this measurable. And tangible. I'm not saying that in a haughty manner, but up to a certain point as an equal among equals. In my first 35 years as an actor, I usually said, when someone came up with an offer: “Work? I'll do it! shit work? I do too!“

SZ: So shit movies.

CW: Why shit movies?

SZ: So the movies that...

CW: No! That was my life, with all due respect. Should everything that was good just be dropped now? There was some very good stuff there, thank you very much.

SZ: Forgive me.

CW: Clearly this was also training. Everything is always training. This is where the brain comes into play again. If it's allowed: mine. I always kind of knew why something was "shit". This is an immeasurable treasure, a treasure called experience.

SZ: Tempi passati.

CW: I am deeply grateful that my circumstances have largely changed over the past 15 years. But it doesn't change the fact.

SZ: Especially since one is usually wiser afterwards...

CW: Of course: You don't look forward to it while you're still in it. But you don't spend your life with gold alone. Nobody does that. I've actually worked on stupid films with the greatest colleagues from time to time. Here as there. But it is also about participating in life by doing. And with what? With good reason! For example, because you have a family and earn money, a very, very honorable process.

SZ: But this work does not really make you happy at the time of its creation.

CW: Why do you have to be happy all the time? Who invented the compulsion to be lucky? Everyone must always be happy... No wonder no one is happy. Except for the happiness industry.

SZ: The right to happiness - "the pursuit of happiness" - is one of the "inalienable human rights" in the USA! Since 1776!

CW: But not the right to be happy . The Right to Pursue Happiness ! pursuit ! Logically, this means, especially when it comes to forming a society, that I also allow others to strive for happiness to the same extent, not that I only try to enforce mine by force of arms.

SZ: Like I said, an American...

CW: The right to be happy only exists according to the mindfulness coaches just quoted, and those from 2023, not 1776. Those who make money by looking happy on Instagram. happiness industry. It's gotten tough in America. Hard and unforgiving. Europe is still a bit shy in this regard, but it will catch up.

SZ: Also in Hollywood, does that also affect the film industry there?

CW: yes sure, maybe not? But like I said, one can hope. I at least hope that something is changing for the better right now. If I'm not an optimist, at least I'm naive! But in terms of the years I've been living there now: the fixation on quantity, the fixation on the measurable, on pie charts, tools for reading users - it's not obvious that the parts of the brain where creative people used to be their Quality awareness suspected, meanwhile dry up?

SZ: That means you make everything ready for the user, so to speak?

CW: Do you have users or readers at the Süddeutsche ? If you still have readers: never consider them users... my non-authoritative advice. The technical means of spreading nonsense have never been available on this scale, and a repulsive figure like Donald Trump could only become President of the United States of America because there was fire from all channels, both digital and analog: He won't, will he? Will he?

SZ: Well, he ran for the post. Should you ignore that?

CW: Why should one ignore him - but hysterize for months? Because it sells? Trump as a repulsive figure was very old hat long before his presidency became more likely. He has been an obnoxious, vile phenomenon for decades. That was impossible to miss. But Trump, Brexit, all these dystopias from 2016 and after, they exist because they were spread , no longer communicated, and it's being disseminated for commercial reasons, while not conveying that each and every individual could care to expose Trump as a lie or to expose Brexit as a lie. We can all take a good look at our own noses here, with what we write, send, spread or help spread ... No feuilleton, for example, has to deal with Prince Harry.

SZ: Oh...

CW: Because it clicks? But does it make sense beyond that ? The sensitivities of a prince, apparently not the brightest candle on the candlestick, who publishes a tearful, post-pubertal commissioned work? Because daddy is always so mean? And why is he publishing it? Because you can make a lot of money with it and with a supposed "documentary". And the feuilleton sacrifices its integrity?

SZ: It also depends on how you reflect it.

CW: Reflecting does something quickly. Especially the so-called reflection is always extremely useful commercially and socially. Never looks bad either. The supply creates the demand.

SZ: Often there is also a demand that first ...

CW: Forgiveness! In the meantime, it often has features of self-incapacitation! And from the side of those who should know better! The lesson, by no means only in Hollywood, from the last few years: the so-called people are possibly much smarter than those in the know would like to give them credit for, and people have a flair for jargon and stupidity. They want to be entertained, of course, but not fooled. They often even want to be challenged, but not fooled. You smell the intention and you may not be upset right away, but you're always upset. The intention is always perceptible. For anyone who wants to take a look.

SZ: From this point of view, a fascinating, coherent but long scene like the beginning of “Inglourious Basterds”, in which an Austrian named Christoph Waltz, who was relatively unknown in the USA at the time, drinks milk as SS man Hans Landa and fills a meerschaum pipe, would hardly be seen today more possible, right?

CW: It might not even be attempted by most. Although, of course, there are still a select few who make great attempts. I now embrace every sincere eccentric I meet.

SZ: The scene lasts 20 minutes, an eternity by today's standards.

CW: 18 minutes ... It's all a matter of consciousness, the '68ers were right about that. And if my consciousness as a so-called creative person is solely geared towards the mercantile advantage, then this is communicated unmistakably. Basically, "The Consultant" tells from the guts here. anticipatory obedience,Timothy Snyder taught the right lesson: If you value our values, in a democracy, under no circumstances be hasty obedience. It's by no means all dirt that can be streamed or, rarely enough, seen in the cinema - but the sheer mass of what is produced may have reached a tipping point. The unconditional subordination to economic expectations is perceptible as such. Since the mouse bites from no thread. But is that really reason enough to watch the whole thing?

SZ: The thousand tiles of the streaming services, predictable plots and trigger points everywhere?

CW: And jargon instead of content! Everyone has been busy throwing themselves on the audience's laps over the years. Whatever you want: we do it, it will be delivered - in the desired jargon. Like the drug dealers and pornographers. But it's an unfounded claim. The intention is clear and therefore also clearly recognizable.

SZ: Ten years ago, after “Breaking Bad” and other fantastic, complexly told series, we were still talking about the golden age of television.

CW: And then streaming completely turned the entire film industry inside out. Everyone wants to do the business or at least not leave the business to the competitor alone.

SZ: Why didn't you continue to make series with complex narratives?

CW: Because industry has always embraced the avant-garde and then turned the tide. You then no longer trust the idea, certainly not the eccentric idea or even an intention that goes beyond the economic. But the stitch that you knit from it. This is how the mainstream has evolved for centuries. Today the algorithm works. The core business of the streaming service is the share price. Ergo: The decisive factor is the number of subscribers. But the subscription is not a single film. They are all films that can be squeezed into the offer. Ergo: the algorithm. The algorithm feeds only on the density of the mass. This mass of information only arises if the audience simply gets everythingcan be thrown to the table, the gold like the shit. The carpet bomb principle. Most bombs don't hit, the duds don't matter anyway, and some hit is bound to be there. It has to do enough damage to justify the whole rug though.

SZ: To the chagrin of those involved. So not just the viewer.

CW: Writers, directors, actors, many great people, not just young people with great ideas. And with fantastically functioning brains. Used to make the background look populated - quality swallowed up by quantity.

SZ: A black hole. How do you escape this?

CW: I'm not at the higher decision-making level, I'm just an actor, so I'm offered what's out there and what I'm eligible for...

SZ: ... at least in Hollywood.

CW: After all, why in Hollywood? It's the same everywhere. And certainly not only in film and television. All right, Hollywood, if that sounds better. I always want to go beyond this binary yes or no decision with an inquiry; So is the idea and possible design of a film or a series the rub or the dog buried? Is the idea worthwhile in qualitative, narrative terms, for example to spend a year or two of my life on? Who are the people to spend these two years with?

SZ: What is the reaction then?

CW: I often hear: "We are very interested in your input!" ... a shameless lie.

SZ: Fun.

CW: It's going ok. Little is discussed, little discussed or, God forbid, criticized. For speculating and calculating.

SZ: Movies have always cost money, have they not?

CW: Of course, it's nothing new that film costs money. The director John Boorman wrote a wonderful book about it a number of years ago, which is perhaps more relevant than ever: "Money into Light". No money, no film.

SZ: Which isn't bad per se.

CW: Yes,why? You don't even have to wish for anything else. But should the discussion in advance, when it doesn't cost anything and can be endless fun, only revolve around quantities and not at all about whether it's worth it from a qualitative point of view, i.e. literary, cinematic, artistic? Is there only one single intention? Money without Light ? One does not exclude the other! I don't want to understand how you can miss the really exciting, rewarding part of it all. Well, unfortunately I already understand. Everything is delegated somewhere intangible, where no one needs to answer questions.

SZ: As in the complaint case "Rimowa" and Lufthansa.

CW: In the film industry, when you have an idea, you say: “We could get that done .” Or: “I can’t get that done. That's actually mostly true, especially in the negative case. The result is films or series full of inauthentic stories, inauthentic speech, inauthentic images, underlaid with soapy, inauthentic music. They are films that are made because they are made.

SZ: Plus test screenings?

CW: Depends. I've seen a very, very ugly producer come close to flawless beauty after a successful test screening, simply because he was so happy. Why? Because 98 percent of test-watchers had ticked that they had just seen the best movie of their lives... this test-screening hit turned out to be a flop of historic proportions.

SZ: Now that's funny.

CW: Yes, yes.

SZ: Of course, our curious readers are curious to know which film it is. Will they find out?

CW: No.

SZ: And should we see an apple tree towards the end...

CW: Not necessary at all! Like I said, maybe something is changing. Perhaps the business model is reaching its limits in these excesses. Something has to change in order for it to continue. Streaming was a revolution, for sure, but the revolution can't eat its grandchildren.

SZ: Is Los Angeles still the right place then?

CW: I really, really like living in Los Angeles. Just in case it didn't sound Californian enough by now.

SZ: It wasn't always like this, was it?

CW: Not to that extent, no. But I love living there now more than ever. It's a unique collection of people, ideas, opportunities. Plus this beauty of nature. I don't want to miss that anymore. Incidentally, neither do the manners. I'm from Vienna, I like it when people follow the rules to some extent, even if it's just for reasons of a clearly distanced politeness that makes our everyday life a little easier. I'd rather be politely lied to.

SZ: Certainly interesting to come to Berlin in between.

CW: It's not interesting. It's horrible. Especially in winter.

SZ: Oddly enough, this fixation on making money goes hand in hand with great sensibilities, doesn't it? Fear of assault, wrong choice of words, all of that. Is it true that you have to take part in mandatory seminars before you start shooting?

CW: Yes. I don't do that.

SZ: Can you evade that?

CW: I don't know.I withdraw.

SZ: How?

CW: I don't need coaching to behave properly. I lead by example as I follow good example. I was brought up in such a way that I behave much better towards minorities and, by the way, also majorities, than the consciousness of the seminar leader is even able to assess. I could teach the seminar leader good manners .

SZ: Well, a privileged attitude, because of course, keyword economy, you won't do without Christoph Waltz in the end, does he attend the damn training course or not...

CW: In this sense: heartfelt thanks.

[his-saiko]

The Summoning

— Running into You

"I've got a river running right into you. I've got a blood trail, red in the blue."

You weren't supposed to be anywhere near this man's path. But there was something about you that seems so compelling. Curiosity? Lust? Threat? He just has to know. Whatever it is, there's one thing he is definitely set on. He wants you and he's not so easily distracted from that goal.

— Dabi x f!oc/reader. Strangers

C/Tw. themes of harm, themes of mental issues, intrusive thoughts [All possible triggering content will be enclosed in !'s]

810 words

Thanks to your sudden burst of enthusiasm to get your job done — or your desperation to keep yourself busy so you don't have to listen to the static or the blaring of your thoughts — you are bored. You sit in front of your personal computer fidgeting with your numerous fidget toys scattered around due to you switching to each of them one after the other. You stare blankly as if you're looking into the void — the emptiness.

You snap yourself out of it with a blink and turn to the screen. You are on YouTube with a very diverse algorithm which isn't really much of a help in moments like this. It was more of a nuisance. "It doesn't hurt to scroll through, I guess." You move your mouse wheel to scroll down and while you are at it you take it upon yourself to fine-tune your algorithm. You unsubscribe to channels and content you stopped consuming years ago. This leads you back to your original interest as some might say the dark side of YouTube. You start by watching short horror films. You flinch at the appearance of jumpscares. You go down the rabbit hole of this side of YouTube and it eventually turns from the most out-of-this-world stories to those grounded more in reality. In no time you start to listen to true crime cases.

You watch one of the most known villains in the present time, Stain. Your mind somehow makes a connection to form a thought. "I wonder what it's like to have a blood quirk." You listen to one of the most recent videos talking about him and keep your hands busy with your desk toys.

You somehow agree with Stain's views, somehow, but your personal opinion persists: 'there are no such things as heroes and villains.' While it does help people differentiate from one another for it to be a fundamental feels limiting to you. That's why you concluded that you're neither above the villains nor below the heroes, even going so far as to you're not even somewhere in between. A thought that most of your peers never understood, not even tried to understand.

Thinking about it makes you so alone, so... lonely...

"As Stain's stance on society receives the spotlight people have risen to group themselves referring to themselves as the League of Villains. Not a lot is known about the origins of many members of this group but as they became more public the individuals making the group have been the subject of fear by most people. Especially since their association with All For One."

It's no surprise that small-time villains would flock to group themselves but high-ranked villains in a group? Who are these people? You try to find out information on the group. A lot of these people's quirks are amazing Compress, Transform, Decay, but one stands out to you the most: Blueflame.

Fire-type quirks have been some sort of your favourite alongside blood-type quirks. Maybe it has something to do with how hot temperatures give you the warmth you look for — or how such an element has an innate role for destruction. Not only was this quirk dangerous to its victims but also to the user. You start to look for pictures of the user named Dabi and sure enough, his appearance is proof of how much of a danger his quirk is to himself. He was fascinating — to an extent. It seems like this man has the most bodies on his trail. Just the thought of it... makes you sick. He feels worst than their own leader.

You finally decide to shut down your computer. You look to your window and notice the daylight is already gone. Have you been fixated on this for that long? You feel your stomach ache.

You stand and make yourself dinner. But as if you are in a trance you find yourself finding more information on the man named Dabi. Ever since his name and face became public many of the burned murder victims are starting to be linked to him.

You've only read about how hot blue flames are. "I wonder how it really feels?"

You serve your food and start eating. Your phone and hand are still glued to each other. Your eyes spend more time looking at your screen than at your food.

A piece of certain information piques your interest. There was a recent scene just a few stops from here. You let go of your phone and start to take bigger bites then put your dishes in the sink.

You get to your bed with your phone and still scroll down articles and articles. You eventually made a note of all the places of crime scenes where you think Dabi would have made. You consciously tell yourself to turn your phone off and get some sleep.

taglist:

© 2023 Alfi. Do not replicate.

[dustedmagazine]

Skee Mask — C (self-released)

For anyone else, C would herald the arrival of a great talent in electronic music. Paced to perfection, indebted to electronic music history without necessarily being in service to any one variant of it (well, beyond dub techno), emotionally ambiguous and rich with sonic detail, C satisfies from start to finish — so it might come as some surprise to listeners that this is, in fact, merely Munich producer Bryan Müller’s third compilation of unmastered bits n’ bobs inside two years. To have broken through the way he did with 2018’s Compro only to retreat to these self-released full lengths in the wake of 2021’s equally potent double album Pool is a power move of the highest order.

Müller’s retreat has a few dimensions to it. In addition to the well-publicized withdrawal of his catalog from Spotify in early 2022, he’s also backed away from the more overt careerist framing of full-length after full-length via his usual home over with the Zenker brothers at Ilian Tape. Instead, he’s chosen to jettison a glut of perfectly good material via Ilian Tape’s nameless ISS series, of which 007 comes closest to being a fourth LP (though it could just as easily be a single unbroken song). In short, he’s releasing music at an unprecedented rate and it’s all somehow interchangeable, equally capable of being on an “official” album, a stray 12” or some supposed compilation of odds n’ sods.

Lest you think the quality is any less for its release format, opener “MDP2” signals the familiar terrain you’re about to traverse and should immediately put to rest any apprehensions over quality. Cascading pads wash slowly, gently over you, like a double-speed William Baskinski; as a scene-setting piece, it’s among my favorites of his. The first percussion doesn’t appear until the soft breaks of “Bassline Dub” nearly seven minutes into the album, and “Keygruv” is the first really dance-friendly track, but even then, Müller switches up the beat barely half a minute in, which feels off-kilter until you realize he’s just thrown a dummy, the brain recalibrates, and the groove reveals itself.

The spritely, broken Windows 98 loop of “One for Vertigo” is probably the most sonically distinctive song present, though “11616” sounds straight out of the pause screen of a PlayStation first-person shooter and gives it a good run for its money. “Minitx” is the “hardest” dance number, featuring a controlled screech and a muted countermelody going on deep beneath the surface that’d play well at your local darkwave night. The barely there ambient swoon of “Blok” acts as an excellent breather late in the tracklist, introducing the concluding triptych that also features the fourth-world excursion “Pitchacid” and a twinkling, gorgeously subtle “thnk you” on the outro.

In a time where discussions of so much electronic music too often veer wildly between the poles of dancefloor hedonism in the face of authoritarianism and ambient’s significance thanks to pandemic lockdowns and whatever TikTok contortions its Gen Z content creators amuse themselves over, C is a quiet, gentle reminder that there is always the option to step back, to remove yourself from the vortex, to breathe and let yourself live at your own clip, on your own terms, to your own satisfaction. Forget dictators and algorithms; power comes from within.

Patrick Masterson

[undercoverwizardfanfiction]

Title: Carry (2022 rewritten)

Verse: ROTTMNT

Summary: A visit to a local convention goes wrong when Donnie gets overstimulated. Now it’s up to Leo to get to him and get him home

For: Helle.Horse who helped me proofread all these!

Characters: Leonardo, Donatello, Raphael, Michelangelo, Splinter

Pairings: LESS THEN NONE

Warnings: Overstimulation, Meltdown

Leo is undeterred when he turns from the novelty drink booth and sees the snack court filled with cosplayers, hipsters, and exhausted parents. He’s been going to conventions since before he could blink, so Leo quickly finds a path between the giant catbus, the five stormtroopers, and twelve vloggers talking into their phones. He weaves his way through the crowd until he catches sight of Raph’s waving hand at a corner table. “Nice spot, hermanos! Upwind of the nerds and the least amount of stains,” Leo exclaims before dumping the hotdogs, nachos, sandwiches, food, and drinks all over the table. He snatches up the large novelty cup that looks like an upside-down Jupiter Jim helmet before Donnie can take it, “Nope, sorry, Don-Tron. I called dibs.”

“Fine, whatever, I hope it was expensive.”

“Oh it was! Thanks for treating me by the way!” Leo tosses Don’s wallet back to them. They juggle it between his hands before glowering at Leo as he takes his place by Donnie. “Did you get your autograph from the Rupert Swaggert Celebrity Impersonator of the Rupert Swaggert Celebrity Impersonator,” Leo asks Mikey.

“Yeah! Just before he got into a fight with the original Rupert Swaggert Celebrity Impersonator! It was awesome!’ Mikey hugs his new autographed (slightly torn) photo to his chest before he takes out his autograph binder and places it in its new slot. While not part of the official circuit, New York Not Comic Yes Con was a pop-up convention they had heard about a few years ago. With no warning or flyers to announce it.

The con would randomly appear in back-alley hotels and convention centers and draw in nerds like moths to a flame. How they managed to have any vendors at all with such short notice (Donnie's convention algorithm gave them five hours notice at best) was beyond him, but it was full of reclusive celebrities and rare items that made Leo drool in his sleep. Finally, Raph stops chugging his walking taco and, after choking a moment, gasps for air. “Alright, men, we’ve hit the Sci-Fi Alley, the Fantasy Alley, and the Sci Fi Fantasy Alley. What’s next on our list Dee?”

Donnie, who had been counting through his wallet and shooting glares at Leo, pulls up his tech gauntlet, “Well, there’s always the Fantasy Sci-Fi Alley. And the Science Fantasy Fictional Alley. There are a few celebrities I signed up for ahead of time, you’re welcome, but there’s also Artist alley, and the Hot Gazpacho and Cold Soup live show cook-off in three hours.”

“They’re doing that again,” Leo asks. “Last time they let those two in the same convention, they-”

Before he could finish, Mikey put a hand over Leo’s mouth, “We don’t speak of it.”

“ANY WAY, it's a full schedule. We have time for a quick bite, but we gotta get back to the floor again. So, men, consume!”

With the ferocity of middle-aged coyotes attacking a pre-black Friday sale, the brothers dived back into their food. It was only after Leo tore into his fifth Korean hotdog that he noticed a distinct lack of movement from Donatello. Instead, his brother had pulled off his headphones, twisting the ear clasp and making minor adjustments. ‘You ok, Dee,” Leo asked, “Are your headphones on the fritz?”

“Yeah, they’ve been acting up ever since Yokai Mart,” Donnie looks them over, “I've fixed them in every way possible, but they keep malfunctioning at the worst time.”

Leo sits up more, looking back to the convention and its sea of noise and overstimulation, “Um, do we need to head home or..?”

“Don't you dare. New York Not Comic Yes Con only pops up once a year, and I’ll be Splinter's hairy elbow if I miss it.” Donnie gives the headphones one more twist and puts them back on. He must have noticed the concerned look on Leo’s face since he rolled his eyes, “If you’re really concerned, you can rub my shoulders. I got shoulder-checked by a Boba Fett cosplayer an hour ago, and I’ve lost feeling in my neck since then.”

“No problem!” Leo stuffs the last of his food in his mouth and scoots closer, his fingers already set to work on rubbing Don's neck. Despite Don’s nonchalant attitude, the soft shell visibly sighs and relaxes more, which is enough to let Leo know he’s doing a good job, and he focuses on that for a few minutes.

Until Mikey suddenly spits out his milkshake and points back into the convention, “THE DIRECTOR OF JUPITER JIM SAILS THE SEVEN GALAXIES IS HERE!!!”

“WHAT NO WAY!” Leo turns to see a Convention helper putting up a new sandwich board. He immediately jumps up, picks up the signal (despite the worker shouting after him), and runs back to the table to read it better. “Steven Stephen Steinburg is doing autographs in five minutes?! He never shows up to conventions! Last I heard, he was sky diving into volcanos to do research for his next film!”

“I heard he was going undercover as an undertaker for his next big movie, Undercover Undertaker!” Mikey reaches over and yanks the sign for him to show Raph, “We’re going, right? We have to! No one has seen him in public in twelve years! Not since he got into that fish slapping fight with Marcus Moncreif!”

As Raph goes to answer, there's a loud and distinct “A-HEM” that comes from the other side of the table back to Donnie. Who reaches up and waves off Leo’s message, “In case you forgot what I told you exactly twelve minutes ago, we have a packed schedule. That is when the line to the Jupiter Jim screenings opens up. They're supposed to be showing the entire Jupiter Jim prequel movie with two minutes of never before seen footage that will forever explain the toe sock debacle. And I warned you before we got here that every time you break the itinerary, I get to pick the next movie we watch, and so far, I get to pick three,” Donnie says with a smirk so villainous Draxum would be proud.

The three looked at each other in a mild panic, knowing Donnie had just bought the “science of socks, a twenty-part series” he was dying to watch. But, as usual, in a true crisis just like this, Raph and Mikey look to Leo desperately for a solution. Leo, always having a plan, gives them a grin and a wink, “How about this, Don, two of us wait in line for the screening, and the other two go meet the director?”

Donnie gave him a hard look. Despite his grin, Leo felt bad for breaking the schedule so often. Conventions were not always the most manageable landscape for Donnie to traverse. Especially one that gave them no real time to prepare for, and breaking the schedule only added to that stress. Finally, Donnie lets out an overly dramatic sigh, “Ok, fine. I know this is important to all of you, and whoever stays with me with will complain, looking at you Leo, so how about I’ll hold our spot and you three can go-”

Raph hops to his feet, “THANKSDEEYOU’RETHEBEST!! Mikey! Periscope mode to find us the most direct route to Steven Stephen Steinburgh!” Mikey scrambles up Raph’s shell and holds his hands to his eyes as binoculars.

Leo looked at his brother, “Remember Dee, if you need us, text us. Ok? Let us know if something goes wrong with your headphones.”

Donnie rolls his eyes and brings up his tech gauntlet, “Puhlease, even fritzing, my headphones are at 76% performance capacity. But if you don’t bring me back a cool gift I’m picking out the next eight movies-”

“Thanks hermano,” Leo yells as he stuffs his souvenir cup back into his backpack and runs after his brothers, barely managing to wave back at Don before he hurries not to lose track of the others.

~~~

One thing to be said about conventions was that no matter what was going on, there was going to be a long ass line. But, thanks to Mikey’s expert periscoping, they could find the fastest route through the convention and see the new ‘Stephen Steven Steinbugh’ sign just as it’s set up, putting them only twenty places in line behind the front.

But Leo quickly sidesteps to keep another stormtrooper from stepping on his foot, ‘OW! Hey Mikey, you think you can share the perch or-” But Mikey had already given him a devilish grin and laid across Raphs shoulders like an evil cat, ‘Ok, you brat.” Leo says with no venom but smacks at Mikey’s foot.

“Hey!” Raph gives him a light elbow jab, “He got there first. So suck it up like a big turtle.”

“Yeah, yeah, fine.” Leo tilts around to peer at the time, then back to the line, “Do you think we’ll make it back to the movie in time? It wouldn’t be fair to Donnie to hold our spot the entire time.”

“Yeah, if he gets inside before we get back, he should see it without us. But we have an hour, so it should be ok?” Raph glances at him with an expression Leo recognizes a mile away, “I mean, I know he’s capable, but-”

“As long as he has those headphones, he’ll be ok.” Conventions had always been a big source of family fun in their family because they didn’t need disguises. Splinter had taken them to conventions ever since they were little, but because of the noise level, Don hadn’t always gone with them. During those times, Leo would stay home with him and have their own fun (or Leo would bug him so much that Donnie would beat him up with a pillow). But Don’s noise-canceling headphones allowed him to enjoy the conventions to the fullest without being stimulated or overwhelmed.

As the line shifts forward, Leo feels his phone vibrate in his fanny pack, but it’s already stopped by the time Leo pulls it out. Flashing the screen to see three missed calls from Donnie and frowns, “Hey guys, check your phones real fast and tell me if you have a missed call from Dee.”

The two of them look at him, confused, before they do as they are told, ”Yeah, from a minute ago,” Mikey says, holding it out for Leo to see. Raph has the same thing. But, of course, it wasn’t exactly a secret that conventions didn’t have the best cell service, and it could have easily been a buttdial.

But….

Without hesitation, Leo steps out of line, “Guys, I’m going to go wait with Donnie and check on him. If you can, get Stephen Steven to sign my Jupiter Jim Gym Towel,” and he starts at a quick pace. Ducking and dancing around cosplayers, his phone vibrates again, but before he can answer it, the call drops again, and he doubles his speed. He recounts the path back to the screening section and picks out the long line. Usually, it wouldn’t take too long to pick out a giant, green, soft-shell turtle, but come on. They were at a sci-fi convention. They had seen twelve turtle cosplays on the way to get pretzels. Thankfully, Leo saw his brother near the front of the line, before a teenager with gauges that would make the turtle tank tires jealous, and behind Eda, the Owl Lady cosplayer. His brother was jabbing furiously at his gauntlet, his headphones hanging off his forearm. His eyes were drawn in a panic that would have sent Leo spiraling if he hadn’t taken a deep breath and taken Donnie by the shoulders, catching his attention, ”Don, what's going on? What’s wrong?”

“Hey,” the guy behind him snaps, “No cutting!” But Leo ignores him, and thankfully Don does too. His brother’s gaze was a mile away, wrapped in stress lines, and at first, Leo was not sure if Donnie even noticed him when he went back to jabbing at his gauntlet.

But he started stuttering a response, “S-something went wrong. I-I tried adjusting the-the volume, t-trying to fix them, but-then they started letting out this loud noise and I-I couldn't take it. N-now there’s nothing but noise and-and-and-and-,” Donnie desperately tries to blink away his now rapidly filling tears, “I can't breathe-”

Leo opens his mouth to say something, anything of comfort that he knew would be hollow against Donnie’s now overstimulated mind, when the guy's voice speaks again, “Hey spaz, if you’re going to cry, get out of line.”

The red slider pivots hard, his fist twisting the teen’s shirt up tightly and yanking him close so that the now terrified teen could only see into his eyes. “If I ever see or hear you talking about my brother with anything lacking the same dignity you would give someone without a disability, I will send you so far into the earth, not even the Devil will be able to find you.” Leo released the teen. In his panic, the guys already white complexion fades to ghost-like. Once Leo drops his front, the guy takes several steps back out of line before turning and taking off like he expected Leo to chase him down.

It takes Leo a moment to come back, and he takes a single deep breath. He turns his attention back to his trembling brother, who now has his hands clasped on the sides of his head. It's then Leo notices that the headphones hanging around his neck are faded. After a moment, Leo realizes they’re giving off a high-pitched noise that immediately makes him wince and hover his hands by his head. Before Leo can try and discern what's wrong with them, they give off a flicker and an audible electric spark. Leo quickly reaches forward and takes them off Don’s neck, not that Don notices. The blue brother is unsure how to turn them off and stop the noise, so he wraps them up in one of his convention t-shirts. Leo quickly puts them in his bag before they can hurt anyone. “Dee come on, let's go,” he says as he raises his hand, but Donnie shakes his head furiously.

“NO. I said I’ll wait, and I’ll wait-”

“You matter more than a stupid screening, Don.” Leo tries to recount himself and forces himself to take another breath before stepping back to Donnie. He gently puts his hands on Don's shoulders to ensure he has his attention, but not necessarily his eye contact (which he knows can be difficult for Don in situations like this). Unfortunately, Leo is more than painfully aware that Donnie is shaking so hard he could pass out. “Dee, I won't make you go. I won't take that autonomy away from you. But if you want to go, it's ok.”

He doesn’t rush Donnie for an answer. Instead, Leo forces himself to have patience through willpower alone. He had made the mistake of taking the decision away from Don regarding his mental health and meltdowns and promised not to do it again. Even if it hurt to see him struggle. Thankfully no one behind them in line is complaining or trying to move around them. Whether out of respect for the situation or fear, Leo was going to threaten them, too; he didn’t know. But Don finally looks up to him again and gives a small, barely noticeable nod.

Leo tries not to look too relieved. “Ok, bud, let's get you some air,” he says, wrapping his arm around Don's shoulders, who in turn leans heavily against him. It was far quicker to get out of the convention than it had been to get to Don in the first place, despite the fact they were not going against the tide of conventiongoers. But when they finally reach the cold New York night air, Leo first moves Donnie off to the side and out of the way of people entering the convention. As soon as they're out of the way, Donnie drops so fast Leo’s afraid he’s actually passed out. But instead, Donnie is now in a crouched position with his hands rubbing at his face. Leo quickly squats next to him, “Don, hands, hands. Remember what Dad said. Do something with your hands.'' Leo puts his hands out instinctively but stops himself from restraining Don’s hand. Thankfully Donnie starts fluttering his hands instead. When Leo’s phone starts ringing, Leo moves to kneel in front of his brother. If only to shield him from the scrutiny of people passing. He presses the back of Donnie’s head, so his face is safe in the crook of Leo’s neck as his free hand pulls his phone out and answers, “Raph?”

“Hey, what happened? Is Dee ok?”

“Don’s headphones are malfunctioning and he’s having a meltdown.” Leo gives Don a small, supportive half-hug.

“Should we come to you? We can meet you.”

Leo goes to answer but feels Donnie shake his head. Question answered. Leo starts rubbing Don’s shell, “No, Donnie wants you guys to stay and have fun. I’ll take care of him.”

There's a pause on the other side. Leo can only imagine Raph’s crestfallen face looking at Mikey's. He knew how much Raph struggled to let someone else take care of his brothers, and he knew there was a good chance Raph would ignore him. But after he sighs, Raph says, “Ok. Keep me up to date, and just look out for him. Ok?”

Leo allows himself a smile for the first time since Donnie’s failed phone call. “Of course,” he says before hanging up.

“Why?”

The voice is so alien and unlike Don that, at first, Leo is sure it’s someone else watching. But the voice came again, “I-I was so careful. I checked th-three times. B-But it still failed.” Don’s body tenses, his shoulders trembling like weakened floodgates before a hurricane of emotion, “I was careful,” his voice cracks as he hides his face again. Seeing his usually boisterous, loud brother so small was painful. Leo takes a few minutes to simply hold him and comfort him before he tips Donnie’s head down to rest his forehead on Leo’s shoulder and speaks quietly, “Dee, is it ok if we go home? We don’t have to if you don’t want to. I'll do whatever you want.”

Don nods quickly, which is more relief than Leo wants to admit. He takes Donnie gently by the shoulders and guides him back to his feet. Don’s movement is so slow, but Leo doesn’t have the heart to rush him. “Do you want to ride on my shell,” he asks. When Leo gets another nod, the blue turtle turns, crouches down, and waits for Don to climb up with his forearms wrapped around Leo’s collarbone. Had Don been more aware of what was happening, he would have beaten the back of Leo’s skull for robbing him of his dignity. But when Leo stands back up, he feels Donnie curl up with his face hidden by the back of Leo’s neck as a small sob escapes him.

Leo tilts his head back to touch Don’s for a moment before he sets off.

~~~

The walk home doesn’t take nearly as long as Leo expects, but it is still too long for his liking. The sooner he got Donnie home to a more familiar space, the better. Through creative thinking, Leo can slide down the ladder by placing a foot on either side of the ladder and using one hand to hold one of the sides and go down. (Actually, he would have been more impressed if he hadn’t been so intent on getting Donnie home.) Halfway home, Leo feels Don squirming and takes it as a hint to set his brother back on his feet carefully. He waits to see what Donnie will do, but when nothing happens, he reaches around and wraps one arm around the purple turtle’s shoulders, his other hand holding Don’s, and Leo guides him along.

When they reach the lair, they see Splinter at the entrance with one of Donnie’s hoodies and a worried look on his face (Raph must have called him ahead of time). When they’re in eyesight, Splinter hurries forward and takes Donnie’s free hand, “Purple, are you alright?”

Donnie looks at their father, and his eyes swell with tears again. He falls on his knees and presses his face into Splinter's robes, weeping long held-back pain. Splinter looks at Leo and hands him the hoodie. In turn, Leo kneels to wrap it around Don’s shoulders. Despite his desire to be more active, Leo steps aside and heads to the kitchen to ensure he’s not an audience member of Don’s low point.

He starts setting up tea, and as he waits for the water to heat up, he sits at the kitchen table. He pulls out his souvenir cup and looks over Don’s headphones. He didn’t have the trained eye that Donnie did with electronics, but he was good at picking out details. Before he could discern anything, the headphones spark, and a jolt shoots up Leo’s fingers forcing him to drop them in shock (pun intended). “Hey,” Leo snaps, looking at the headphones as though the turtle expected them to retaliate again. ”That's NOT what you’re designed to do,” he snarls. Leo picks up the novelty cup and washes it out just as the kettle starts whistling. He mixes some tea, and it's not until he pours the water into the cup that Leo notices his own trembling hands. The turtle flexes his fingers and lets out a small sigh before heading back towards Don’s room, where he had seen Splinter guiding him. He steps to enter when he hears, “Dad, I said I didn't want to.”

“I know Donnie, but I thought after tonight you might reconsider.”

Leo blinks. He knew better than to eavesdrop, but unfortunately, it was in his nature to snoop. So, he leans closer to the doorway and listens, “I thought you said you wanted to give me a choice in the matter,” Donnie questions with a bit more hint of his sass, but not enough to cover the pain in his voice.

“It is still your choice. I will never force you to do something you’re not comfortable with or ready for,” Splinter pauses, “Leonardo, stop being the busybody and get in here.” Oops. Too tired (and too ‘Leo’) to feel shame, Leo steps in with his tea. Donnie was sitting on his bed, wrapped in a weighted blanket, wearing his hoodie as Splinter sat by his side, holding his hand. Splinter looks to the cup and turns back to Donnie, guiding his face to look at him, “Please rest. If you need me, let me know. I love you,” and he gives him the smallest of pecks between Donnie’s eyes before standing up, “I’ll let Red and Orange know you two made it home ok.” Double oops. Yeah, Leo had forgotten to do that. Now that his adrenaline was fading, his sense of humor was coming back in full swing. As Splinter passes him, he pats Leo on the forearm, “You did good, my son. Thank you.”

Leo, who typically survives on validation alone, can only manage a weak smile as he pats his father’s hand in return before Splinter disappears towards the kitchen. The two were now alone.

Donnie quickly scrubs his eyes on his sleeve, but Leo does not indicate that he saw the movement as he sits on the edge of Donnie’s bed. “Made you some tea, bud,” he hands the cup to his brother, to which Donnie gives him a puzzled look, “I cleaned it out, and I owed you a souvenir, right?”

Donnie looks at it again. “I mean, I did pay for it,” he says before sipping from it, “Thanks.”

“No problem. Is there anything else you need? I can leave if you want,” Leo offers, though he’s hoping Donnie will tolerate his presence a moment longer. Donnie sips from his new souvenir cup, thinking, “Um, actually, the weighted blanket isn’t helping, can you..” he lets it drift off.

With a smile, Leo squirms around until he’s sitting behind Donnie. “Tell me if I squeeze too tight,” he says as he hugs Donnie tightly from behind. Though Donnie was the most touch-intolerant brother, it was discovered early on that pressure was one of the main things to help him lose stress. It worked the same way a massage worked for Leo, or a warm blanket worked for Mikey. And even now, Leo feels Donnie lean back against him, and some of the tension leaves his body. “How are you feeling,” Leo asks.

“Tired. Drained. Embarrassed. The usual.” Donnie sips from his tea, giving his new Jupiter Jim Novelty Cup a slight smile that Leo pretends not to notice. “Sorry, you had to leave the convention because of me.”

“Eh, don’t worry about it,” Leo says, tucking his chin over Don’s scalp to further his role as a pressurized armchair, “There were way too many Bakugo cosplayers this year anyway.” He pauses for a few seconds, waiting to see if his weak joke had any effect, but Donnie just sips from his cup, and Leo decides it's time to ask, “What were you and Dad talking about?”

“He,” Don pauses, “He wants me to go to therapy.”

“I…” Leo pauses as well, “oh.”

“He thinks I’ve been having a harder time lately and that talking to someone who isn’t as close to our situation might help. He was going to ask Hueso if he knew any Yokai therapists I could talk to, but….” If Donnie is trying to hide the resentment in his voice, he’s not trying very hard, “What no one seems to get is that it’s been a rough couple of months. And I’m not ready to lay on a couch and pay someone to tell me I have superiority issues or drug me up.” Finally, Donnie twists to meet Leo’s eyes, “You think I should go,” he says in a tone that dares Leonardo to agree.

“I didn't do anything! I’m just trying to be a living weighted blanket!”

“You didn’t have to.”

“I’m not-” Leo takes a deep breath. Then, to buy time, he squeezes Donnie tighter and rests his chin on Don's shoulder, “At least he’s giving us a choice.”

Donnie blinks back at him in surprise, “Us?”

“Yeah, Dad's been trying to talk all of us about going to some sort of counseling of some sort. He thinks it has something to do with, you know, the never ending insomnia. And the anxiety might have something to do with it, but I don't know. He might be reading too much into this. He only raised us and sees things about us no one else sees.”

For a moment, the two sit in silence. Leo hugs Donnie an inch tighter and rests his head against Donnie’s, who does the same. “Dee,” Leo starts, “I’ll make a deal with you. A twin pact. I’ll think about going to therapy if you think about going to therapy. Is that fair to you?” Leo’s not sure what to expect as an answer, but Donnie nods the best he can with his head leaning against Leo’s.

“Yeah fine, we’ll get a professional to tell us which one of us is more screwed up.”

Despite himself, Leo smiles, hugging Donnie as tight as he can, saying, “Deal, but it's definitely Mikey.”

[gryhmz]

They Were Always Allowed: A Personal Theory of TV Girl’s Hit "Not Allowed"

Hello internet, it's grim.

I just wanted to quickly thank everyone that went a read my last long post! My last post is probably the most popular piece of literary and analytical content that I have ever written, so I am happy that my writing is being seen by those in the community. As I start to write more over this year, I want a place to share my content beyond Tumblr, so if you're interested, I have opened up an Instagram account focused on advertising my blog here.

For this post, I plan to talk about another major interest of mine: Music and lyrical analysis. It's not something that I am totally great at yet, so please bare with me. Thank you.

Who Really Cares: The Inescapable Album of 2023

One of my favorite hobbies over the past few years has been rating albums and songs that I come across. It was something that I had picked up on when I was in 8th grade, and it helped me handle my emotions and stresses during a time of abuse. Now, as a college student, I rate albums as a past time, and I have come to enjoy it. In fact, a few of my college essays have revolved around music artists and the impact their music had on the world and myself.

Here are a few of the albums that I have rated over the past 5-6 months on AOTY.

Now for most albums, the rating process is fairly boring. I go through an album, pick out what songs I enjoyed and hated, and give my rating. Nothing out of the ordinary. But every once in a while, an album comes around that, for whatever reason, people on the internet flip the hell out over (regardless of whether the album is "good" or "bad").

90% of the time, I tend to wipe these albums off my list of albums to rate, typically because these albums tend to be overrated in some way, shape, or form. But in 2023, I could simply not get away from TV Girl's 2016 album, Who Really Cares. Despite the album turning 8 years old as of this year, I have still seen this album appear numerous times on YouTube shorts, Instagram stories, Instagram Reels, Twitter memes, and Spotify playlists. In fact, the reason why I even know of TV Girl is due to the fact that an ex of mine dedicated their hit song "Not Allowed" to me after our breakup. So I gave the album a 78/100 and moved on with my life (and my AOTY rating can be found here).

Fun fact: The source image for Who Really Cares originates from George M. Hester's The Classic Nude (Reddit). Arguably one of my favorite album covers of all time.

Most of the songs on the album aren't bad, and the unique sampling is extremely entrancing, but the album sounds the same throughout, with most songs lacking individual uniqueness. There were many instances in which I would attempt to write a short take on individual songs just to realize that I would be pointing out the exact same lyrics between two songs. For instance, "Not Allowed" and "For You" both use the "never intend to do what you say at all" line, which I found funny. While this could've been TV Girl using the line as a thematic or symbolic purpose throughout their album, it just felt lazy, especially since this doesn't occur in other albums that they've produced. Albums such as Summer's Over and Lonely Women were much better in terms of order, structure, and thematic principles than Who Really Cares, and neither of them have the repetition issue either.

"Not Allowed" and Misogyny : The Anthem of "Male Manipulators"

After rating and criticizing Who Really Cares back in mid-December, I didn't think too much else about it. Most of the traction around TV Girl started to die down, I started hearing their Tiktok-styled songs less, and many people started to drop the album as social media algorithms led the masses to other albums. Personally, I just liked a couple of songs and downloaded the album cover, and moved on.

A few weeks go by since I listened to the album and I decide that I want to change my profile picture on Steam. Not thinking anything of it, I changed my profile picture from Fleetwood Mac's Then Play On to a close-up of the man on the cover for Who Really Cares. Nothing too crazy, but this does go somewhere.

I hop into a good ol' game of CS2 with a few of my friends. We rage and get our asses kicked as per usual, but we eventually get paired up with another team that is more on our playing level. At the beginning of the game, everything was going well. Both teams were at about 3 or 4 points, so there was a chance of us winning. However, during the middle of the game, one of the teammates on the other team makes a comment about my profile picture being TV Girl, and claims that I was a listener of "male manipulator music." What?

I was so confused by what their teammate was talking about. What the hell is a "male manipulator?" Is it a man that manipulates people? Who is he manipulating? What does he get out of manipulating the subject in question? Or is it a woman that manipulates naive men? What does she get out of it? These questions wrapped around my brain that I had to team kill like three of my teammates to get off of CS2 to go do some research about this term.

Now from what I researched, there does not seem to be an official definition for the term "Male manipulator music." So I did what every other being on the internet does: I looked it up on Urban Dictionary.

Worst discovery ever. I listen to The Smiths, Deftones, and TV Girl so this is like my own personal 9/11.

In short, "male manipulator music" is a subgenre of artists and bands that have a fanbase of men that tend to manipulate women. Their unique yet depressing taste in music is sometimes used to reel in emotionally damaged and/or naive women into harmful relationship dynamics, hurting both the artist and their fanbase. It would be fair to argue that these men are almost like parasites to fanbases rather than part of a fanbase.

But this led me down a much larger rabbit hole regarding TV Girl that I had no run into back in December. Why is TV Girl thrown into this category of "male manipulator music?" So I went digging, and boy did I find some stuff:

(btw all the images are linked to my sources if you are interested in reading further)

Let's just say there are accusations galore about TV Girl and being misogynistic. From the lyric writing to the sampling sources, numerous cases and analyses have been written on TV Girl being misogynistic. Now, most of these are regarding different songs from TV Girl, so most of these might not apply to "Not Allowed," but then I kept running into more posts claiming that the entire point of TV Girl was to simply be misogynistic. That their aesthetic, mindset, and point of view was meant to put down women in a negative light as if men are superior, non-flawed beings. And the more I dug, the larger the accusations became.

Pack it up boys, we aren't allowed to listen to TV Girl anymore...

I was completely shocked. A song that I had picked up from an ex that helped me get through a rough spot in my life was now the target of a much larger campaign of women online claiming such music was meant to put them down? I wouldn't even care too much about the whole phenomenon, but it gets brought ALL THE TIME. And TV Girl has been making music for over 10 years.

With this rabbit hole successfully uncovered, I decided to write down the overall points that many critics point out regarding TV Girl's music.

TV Girl is misogynistic because:

Lyrics describe women in a humiliating and/or degrading manner

Songs are associated with or attract the previously mentioned "male manipulators"

TV Girl sympathizes with the male psyche post-heartbreak

Now that I had a list of reasons why people argue that TV Girl's discography is misogynistic, I am going to try my best to not only debunk these, but give my own personal interpretation of "Not Allowed," which I believe has been heavily misinterpreted and improperly characterized as an anthem for possessive, manipulative men.

Whack-A-Theory and Debunking Misogyny Claims

But before we can talk about the reasons why TV Girl's "Not Allowed" is misogynistic, we must first figure out just what "Not Allowed" is about.

According to the general consensus (aka the Internet), "Not Allowed" is a song about:

The feelings of a man who is rejected by a woman who is in love with someone else.

A man who fears to speak his thoughts on a love interest due to a fear of being socially criticized for speaking about sex.

Slut-shaming a woman who has rejected the singer.

Now, these are all very different theories, and even though they might sound similar since they revolve around a relationship dynamic filled with blurred lines, the implications of these theories vastly differ.

If any of these were MOST LIKELY to be true, it would be theory one. Let me explain:

First of all, "Not Allowed" DOES talk about sex. I'm not entirely sure why the second theory is thrown around so often in the TV Girl community, but it simply does not make any sense regarding the song. Furthermore, any basic research into the intro sample of "Not Allowed" would lead you to the feminist rap group Yeastie Girlz, which were known for their raunchy yet pro-women stance on sexual openness. In fact, the "song" that the sample is from is called "You Suck," which is a recording of the Yeastie Girlz talking about female oral sex in their album titled, Ovary Action:

For TV Girl to use such a raunchy sample in a song that is NOT supposed to talk about sex seems a bit ironic. While it could be argued that these underlying variables are meant to poke fun at the stigma of sexual talk, it wouldn't make sense for TV Girl to use those same elements as a way to insult the girl's partner either.

Take for example:

"But now he's playing with your head But did he ever make you cum?" Personally it doesn't make sense to me why TV Girl would take a jab at the sex stigma by using sexual acts to describe his bitter attitude. Furthermore, TV Girl pokes at the girl's sexual partner (or partners), singing:

"But how quickly they [the sonnets] turn sour So be careful who you screw."

Again, TV Girl's excessive use of raunchy samples and the jabs that the singer takes at sex itself doesn't add up to this theory. No one here is benefits from the negative usage of sex in the song, making this theory seem false.

While the second theory seems like complete bogus, the third theory could hold some weight. However, I think that there is more to this theory than what is presented online. While I will argue that the singer is shaming sexual actions within the song, I would say that the singer is taking more jabs at himself and the girl's current partner rather than the girl herself. Going back to the "messing with your head" lyric, TV Girl doesn't seem to take a jab at the girl having sexual intercourse with her current partner, but they seem to take a jab at the partner and how bad they might be doing at satisfying the girl's sexual needs. While one could argue that a jab at the girl's partner throws her in as collateral, the singer makes it very clear that his feelings towards himself are not great either, stating:

"I guess it's different 'cause you love him But I've got an interactive Sick and twisted imagination And that's gotta count for something" While the singer does not degrade himself to the same level that the girl's partner is subjected to, it is important to note that the girl is the one person in this entire song that is degraded THE LEAST. Not only does this disprove theory three, but it also disproves theories one and three of why "Not Allowed" is misogynistic. If "Not Allowed" was meant to take jabs at women, it would focus way more on the girl's actions rather than the singer and the girl's partner. Furthermore, the second theory on why TV Girl is misogynistic is just a lazy attempt to play the guilty by association fallacy. The only reason I would defend this argument was if "Not Allowed" was truly ripping on the girl the entire time throughout this song, which does not happen. Also, why would TV Girl use Yeastie Girlz as a sample if they wanted to push an anti-woman anthem? None of the reasons posted on TikTok make sense, and the fact that people pushed these theories regarding TV Girl's "Not Allowed" seems silly and lazy.

We Were Once Allowed, But TikTok Thinks We're Strangers

Now we are down to just one theory. I purposely held off the first theory because my theory and the first theory are pretty similar. While I do believe that the song revolves around the feelings of a man who is rejected by a woman who is in love with someone else, I believe we are hearing the perspective of a jealous ex rather than a stranger.

Let me explain:

When I first heard this song, it was after I had broken up with my ex. I'll spare you the details, but I've always seen this song as an ex that felt like he was pushed out of the way for another guy that was waiting for the girl to leave.

"Now you suck We wanna talk about sex but we're not allowed Well, you may not like it but you better learn how 'cause it's your turn now You're wasting your tongue with lame excuses and lies" This part is the singer talking about the girl, saying that she sucks. He goes onto say that they wanna talk about the sexual aspects of their relationship but they are no longer allowed to. I would argue that the singer is making the assumption that his ex is truly not over him and just hopped into a relationship for a rebound. The singer says it's the girl's turn now to hear what he has to say and that she should shut up and listen to what's in store. It could be implied that she has also gone around and spread a false narrative against the singer.

"So how should I begin this? I guess it started when you were with him. And how he never even took you out to dance But did he fuck with any rhythm?" Here we see that the singer is collecting his thoughts on when he was first made uncomfortable with the girl's new partner. He explains that the girl's partner never took her out to dance, implying that he might've during their relationship. The "fuck with any rhythm" could be taken as either him liking any music or rhythmic sexual intercourse. "But now he's playing with your head But did he ever make you cum? Did he ever make you cry?"

Moving on from the dance, the singer now leaves us with a dilemma. He claims that the girl's partner is playing with her head, which can be seen as the singer altering the truth to make the girl seem dumb, or he realizes that the girl is being taken advantage of for her partner's own sexual gratification. Personally, I'm choosing the latter. The singer then asks if her partner makes her cum or cry. Since this is in the past tense, it could be argued that this fling soon dies out or this is the current partner asking if the singer ever made the girl cum or cry, and the singer is just repeating the thoughts of the current partner.

"Do the wires in your mind get sewn together Rubbed and severed by the heat You don't know how long I could stare into your picture And wish that it was me" The singer now asks if there is a personal bond built between the girl and her partner. Based on the previous assumptions, we could argue "Yes" or "No." I would argue "yes" because the next line shows that the girl has taken pictures with the other person in question, making the singer wish that it was him. Again, this could also be seen as him feeling as if he is incapable of controlling ex or he's just jealous that she's with someone else after all that she's supposedly done.

"I guess it's different 'cause you love him But I've got an interactive Sick and twisted imagination And that's gotta count for something" Based on this, I feel like the ex might've complained about the singer's sexual habits. It might be implied here that the ex was disgusted by the singer's sexual interest towards her, but now it's different because it's someone else. The singer then gives himself the positive, claiming that his graphic imagination must be worth something.

Skipping the chorus becuase it's the same as the intro and I don't feel like repeating myself

"I dreamt I was standing in your doorstep Licking sweat off of your forehead With your finger in my mouth And the sound when leather jackets hit the ground" This could be the singer reminiscing on a past scenario in which he and the girl in question are being sensual. Nothing more to analyze. "You should hear when you're not around When it's just us horny poets Who can't wait to write it down And swear we were only being honest." I believe this excerpt is the singer rubbing the past into the face of the girl's partner. Almost like a "yeah we used to have sex too y'know" moment. It could also be the singer implying that him and his ex have made small talk since they've broken up, attempting to come to closure. Nonetheless, it's clear that this was aimed at the girl's partner rather than the girl.

"Do you like these little sonnets 'Cause I wrote them just for you But how quickly they turn sour So be careful who you screw And never call. And I'm starting to suspect You don't intend to do anything you say at all."

After taking his shot at the girl's partner, the singer seems to take aim at the girl. This time, he's offering a set of sonnets he's written about her, but they all have a bad ending. He claims that the sonnets are written this way because she had sex with him and then (possibly) ghosted him afterwards. He then finishes up the excerpt by assuming that his ex was a liar. This could be seen as the singer uncovering an abusive relationship between him and his ex.

"All by yourself, sittin' alone I hope we're still friends, yeah, I hope you don't mind." This is the part that led me to making this entire post. How could the singer and the girl "still be friends" if there was nothing else to begin with? You can't be friends with someone you never knew. This stupid verse led me to travel down a whole rabbit hole and a half just to give my own interpretation of the song, and I have no regrets. The singer is simply mocking the girl breaking up with the singer, claiming that they could still be friends and that she hope he doesn't mind, which is a common tactic that abusers might use after a relationship to hold some sort of control over their victim. This could be seen as an innocent ending to a falling out, or the ex looking for an avenue to hold onto the singer while he struggles with his own thoughts.

Conclusion

Regardless of whatever theory I or anyone on the internet come up with, I believe this song acts as a great litmus test as one's attitudes towards relationships. When I was scrolling through theories and the misogyny rabbit hole, I noticed that many people who wrote about "Not Allowed" focused on inputting their own experiences into the song, writing their theory as if the song was about their relationship. I would even argue that I did the same, and that's completely okay. I made this with the intent of simply debunking what has already been said about the song. While I think that anyone can have an opinion on what this song is supposed to represent, I didn't think any theory prior to mine was "the" meaning (as in what people should take the song as at face value). To put simply, I do not think that this song was about a male manipulator waiting to prey on his next victim, but the girl in question doesn't love him. If it was, then it wouldn't fit into Who Really Cares at all, for the album is about Brad's (the lead singer) troubled relationships with women. I think that's what people ran to because a majority of TV Girl's fanbase is women who have had shitty relationships, regardless of whether it was their fault or not. This has then led to TV Girl's reputation being about male manipulators because all the women in their fanbase simultaneously fear abusive men (and rightfully so). TV Girl simply reinforces that it could be either side's fault depending on how you look at both sides' cruel and immature behavior towards the fallout. I also found inspiration for this song analysis from NEOPUNK (it's a good listen check it out):

If you've read through the entirety of this damn blog post without knowing about the song I've been rambling about, give it a listen. It's pretty good:

And with that, I'm tired. Good night. ~grimaider.

[imbiowaresbitch]

Ratted Out By Amazon

Pairing: Destiel

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Castiel knows he's in love with Dean. He suspects Dean loves him, but knows Dean will never act on it due to years of repression.

When Castiel borrows Dean's laptop to place an order for tea, he discovers something strange. According to Sam, it's because of algorithms. All he knows is that he needs to talk to Dean about it, ASAP.

Excerpt: 

Dean was Castiel's best friend. And the love of his life, but Castiel knew that while Dean cared for him, even loved him, the toxic masculinity and internalised homophobic behaviours he'd absorbed over decades of his father's influence would never allow Dean to act on his feelings. To put it bluntly, Dean was so deep in the closet, Castiel expected him to find Narnia any day now.

It was frustrating for Castiel, as he could feel Dean's emotions, his longing foremost among them. But in the wake of every burst of love and need and desperate loneliness came a surge of guilt, and Castiel knew he couldn't force Dean past that.

So he kept his own feelings to himself to avoid pressuring his best friend. Just being close to him was enough, he told himself. It had to be enough because he couldn't have more.

It was a random weekday in the bunker, and Castiel was sitting in the library, nursing a mug of tea. It was a habit he'd picked up when he was human and one of the few things he could still taste properly now that he was an angel again. Dean had given him permission to use his laptop and Amazon account to order whatever he needed, so Castiel signed in to buy more of his favourite beverage.

He'd pulled up the site and searched for the tea, a Biscuit one that was incredibly tasty, when his eyes caught on the ad below. His eyes widened, and he cocked his head as he stared at the array of realistic-looking penises. They came in a variety of flesh tones, with thick or thin veins, intact or circumcised, with heavy testes at the base, often with a suction cup below. One was neon pink.

Shaking his head, he clicked on his tea and placed his order, then closed the browser and shut the laptop.

A little while later, Sam arrived from his morning run, and Castiel waved a greeting.

"Sam, I don't understand technology…"

Sam snorted.

"First thing to remember is that it's only convenient when it works…" Sam joked, running his hand through his sweaty hair, a habit Castiel had noticed even when Sam's hair wasn't in his eyes.

"Why would ads for something unrelated to my purchases on Amazon appear? I was merely buying tea…"

"Oh, that. It's an algorithm, Cas. Captures things you've looked at before, even on other websites, in the hopes that it can convince you to spend money on those items." Castiel blinked. He certainly hadn't searched for anything of that sort. Which meant… His train of thought was interrupted by Sam continuing. "Why, what showed up?"

Castiel felt his face heat a little as he pictured the assortment of dildos that had been on the screen.

"Um… Not tea."

~~

Read on AO3.

thanks @nickelkeep​ for the beta!

[thrifthi]

Josh Hutcherson Count Report!!!

[Long post ahead]

If you follow me, you'll know that since the peak of the Josh Hutcherson Renaissance, I started the Josh Hutcherson Count, inspired by the comments under various IG reels stating the number of Joshes they have encountered so far to illustrate the ridiculous popularity of the meme. Under the cut will be a review of the data collected by me over a period of over a month - from 23 Nov to 31 Dec of the number of Josh posts and reels I have encountered on Instagram.

So, to start things off, I would like to say that this is nowhere close to like a proper study or investigation. At first this was just like a fun thing I thought I was gonna do for like a week when the meme dies off. For the first week, I basically used sheer memory to count the number of Joshes that appear on my Instagram feed, which definitely means the data collected is not going to be reliable, but whatever. After one week, I got a tally counter app, which increased the reliability of the data collected. However, this count should still be taken with a grain of salt because I think I counted on other social media apps once or twice, even though the scope was only on Instagram, and I stopped collating data at the end of the day after 1 week (I knew the number of Joshes in total, just not the number of Joshes per day). (Also I think you should take this with a grain of salt because this is literally a Josh Hutcherson count, not a serious academic study or anything haha) (and I liked those josh reels so the algorithm gave me more, which skews the data up)

Fortunately, I'm that one annoying friend who sends every single reel I see, so I also sent many of the Josh Hutcherson reels I encountered to my friends along with the number of Joshes at that point in time. One of my friends (@gghggabc) collected all of the Joshes that I sent to complete the data (absolute mad lad btw) and created a graph illustrating the trend in Josh appearances.

Without further ado, I present to you, the TOTAL NUMBER OF JOSH HUTCHERSONS I ENCOUNTERED IN 1+ MONTHS:

1562!!

yes. that's a lot but that is what i got.

GRAPHS!!

(ok low key 3 dec looks wrong idk what i was doing that day. but yeah that happened i guess)

Credits to @gghggabc for helping me do the graphs and collecting the data.

So, as you can see, the Josh Hutcherson Renaissance reached its peak in late November - early December (or according to my data at least) and then slowed down significantly in December. The cumulative graph became less and less steep until 31 December, when it came back up a little bit (I vividly remember seeing A BUNCH of Josh Hutcherson edits popping up on my feed as I was watching the New Year countdown. it was wild). There were a lot of fluctuations in the number of Joshes encountered per day, most likely due to different screen times and whether I interact with the Josh posts or not.

Average number of Josh per day: 40?

Min number of Josh encountered: 7

Max number of Josh encountered: 214 (thats insane i dont know if this is correct anymore thats way too much)

What are the conclusions?

Josh Hutcherson >>>

Memes are a very powerful thing

I should probably set things up more properly the next time I do one of these, maybe get ppl to join in too for a bigger sample size

I should continue to send my friends every single reel I see

Thank you for reading until the end!