#seems like it would not be based on the demographic | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

xerith-42 · 5 months

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I know it seems like striking on social media might not do enough, but as someone who has been outright obsessively using the internet since I was a child to the point that it is literally woven in my soul, been active and involved in online activism for about five years, and been using social media as marketing for about the same amount of time, I can confidently say that

THIS FUCKING WORKS!!

People base their entire businesses on their success on social media. They look at trending topics on twitter and don't see bite sized chunks of culture distilled to its finest and worst moments, they see market data! They don't see you as a single human being, they see you as a data point among thousands run through a probably AI assisted system that's prone to fucking up, that determines everything they're going to do.

How they're going to advertise, who they target it with it, what the general public wants. Every single major corporation uses data from social media websites to do this. Every. Single. One. Social media is a lot of things, and one of those things is a tool for business and politics. We know for a fact that social media politics bleeds out into the real world very fucking quickly.

Even if you can't strike financially, even if you have to go to work or school to survive, striking on social media is one of the best things you can do. Even if it's quiet. People are going to notice when thousands upon thousands of users across various sites go completely dark, and even more when some of them start getting real fucking loud about this. The US Capitalist Infused Government loves sweeping war crimes under the rug once they think the general public has forgotten about their atrocities and fallen into complacency. This system has been doing this for literal centuries.

Social media is just the newest and most expansive form we as a species have developed in the ongoing invention of ways to express our thoughts about things. It's the weirdest one, that's for sure, but executives pay attention to it. They don't often seek to understand it beyond a very basic level, because as I said, they view us as numbers on a screen, not as multifaceted incredibly and deeply fucked human beings. They do not seek to understand us on a personal level unless they think the cost of it won't outweigh the potential profit.

Pattern recognition is the tool of the moment. Machine Learning. Gathering endless amounts of data so we can replicate human existence through machines. You may think that social media strikes are ineffective because social media is just on the internet and it's "not real", but it is real! You are really doing stuff! You are contributing! Even if you're just lurking! Basic amounts of engagement can make a huge impact in a busted algorithm. Maybe you're not someone who would ever be drafted into an actual war-zone due to physical or mental health conditions, but you are probably a part of a key demographic of people that businesses are absolutely hungry for.

The budding adult has always been the target of greedy capitalists basically since this system was established and continued to get worse over time. The stage of your life when you are in the age range of 18-25 is an incredibly important transitional period, followed by a transitional period every six months until you lose sense of what six months even is because you haven't been happy in eight, and if you're in the 18-25 range currently, you got extra fucked by the pandemic. The world is in a turbulent stage and we are at the center of all of it and have been since 2001. Every single social media marketing expert will tell you the 18-25 demographic of social media users is a target demographic, because they are the most prone to extremes due to a life chock full of them.

We have to remember to be human, but we have to also know how to speak their language. They just see us as numbers? Let's show them some fucking numbers. Make posts about Gaza trend on every platform you have your hands on. Even if it's just liking posts, that gives them a slight boost in the algorithm. Commenting on posts is especially important on sites like Twitter and Instagram. But across every site the most important thing to do is reblog/retweet/share/send/copy link, whatever it is for that site, it is the biggest thing that everyone, and I mean EVERYONE looks at.

From a humble artist to a head of marketing at a billion dollar corporation about to have a meeting with a barely over 21 intern about how they need to run the twitter account, to said intern bumbling their way through adulthood with a job they only feel they're good at because they've been using social media since Skype was invented. We need to be loud, we need to make sure this can't be ignored, we can't sweep this under the rug. Mass media, especially coming out of the West, has been trying to censor, de-sanitize, and keep this issue quiet.

DO NOT LET YOURSELF BE SILENCED

There are tens of thousands of DEAD CHILDREN who have been BOMBED while in CIVILIAN AREAS and that is a FUCKING WAR CRIME.

THIS IS A GENOCIDE

Say that as many times as you can. Do not let it be ignored. A silent populous is a complacent one. Use your voice, even as small as it may seem. Make noise. Be loud. Be annoying. Don't let this be ignored. Talk about it everywhere you go. Do not let this be ignored.

Sometimes even we get disconnected from the real people around us. We base our sense of worth as a person based on the numbers going up or down but instead of developing a gambling addiction we just got angry about it but still fall into it because of cultural conditioning. But even if you only have let's say, completely random example, 70 followers. And only a small percent of them will see your post. Let's say maybe 20 on average, 30 on a good day, and even higher based on the machinations of fate. That's still 20 people who took time out of their day to read something you wrote, process something you created, share a part of your experience of living.

And likely they felt compelled to share it too, therefore increasing the spread of people who feel your influence. 20 people may not seem like a lot, but that has a major impact. Now imagine posts into the hundreds, thousands, hundreds of thousands and even millions. Those aren't just numbers. Each and every single one of those is just another person who might have reblogged a post because someone they like shared it, or because they wanted to spread its message, and that simple act causes a single post to have massive waves of effects from simple ripples.

Don't let yourself be discouraged. Don't think your voice or your impact "isn't enough to matter." Everything counts.

Don't let this be ignored. Don't become complacent. Know that every little thing counts, and to do every little thing you can.

#freepalastine🇵🇸#free palestine #free gaza #social media strike #from the river to the sea palestine will be free #strike for palestine #palestinian genocide #palestine #ceasefire #endisraelsgenocide #isreal is committing genocie #do not be silent #please reblog #spread the word #spread awareness #be loud

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immajustvibehere · 5 months

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Amidst a Crashing World (3/5)

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x fem!Reader

Summary: Arthur returns to your cabin after you presumed him dead. The time between your last meetings have lead Arthur to a realisation.

tags for this series: fluff, little bit of angst, no-tb-Arthur, literally your love redemption, maybe smut (but probably not), slow burn (but I mean how slow can a story really burn in five chapters?)

masterlist

Chapter 1, Chapter 2

6000 words

Sooner than expected, you heard of Arthur. Unfortunately, not because he sent you a note or stopped by again. As you rode into Annesburg three days after wishing him luck for the big score he had planned, the paper boys yelled through the town: "Saint Denis robbers still on the run! What happened to the gang of Dutch van der Linde? Find out in today's edition!"

Normally, you weren't too big on reading the newspaper, but this time…you hadn't never snatched it so quickly out of the boy's hand, leaving him to boast with the change you gave him. Hosea, dead. Lenny, dead. No account of any other names. You weren't sure who "a further gang member was arrested and awaits trial" meant. It only took a couple of days until everybody seemed to talk about it. Your main source of income being doing women's hair, you got a fair bit of gossip about the news.

Everything you heard from the ladies, took with a grain of salt. Either way, nobody ever mentioned Arthur by name. Your anxiety reached its peak when a rather well-off woman, not typically your demographic, had visited family in Saint Denis and brought an unsettling theory with her. Apparently, the most important members of the gang, including the leader, could have fled on a boat and drowned in the storm that was raging over the ocean the same night.

The "they have fled the country"-rumours were the most popular. Drowned in the ocean or not, the version varied based on who told you their theory. With every day you didn't hear the contrary and had no word from Arthur, you believed that you'd never see him again.

That was until one morning. You were working in your garden, busy with fixing the fence that had long stood neglected, when you saw a rider approach. Whether it was the hat or the horse you recognized first, you weren’t sure. But unmistakenly, the man on the horse that lazily trotted towards your cabin was Arthur.

You put your tools down and approached him, forcing yourself to walk calmly. The closer you got, the more unfamiliar he appeared. His beard had grown out, looking unkempt and way too long for what you were used to see him wear. Long strands of hair spilled out from under his hat. Arthur’s skin was darker than usual, even the unforgiving desert in the west hadn't left his skin as sunburned as it now appeared. Most of the red had settled into a golden-brown tan, particularly strong around the area where he cuffed his sleeves. For not seeing him for almost a month, this was quite a change.

A faint smile appeared on his lips when you reached him and walked next to his horse, leading it to your cabin.

"I thought I'd never see you again", you blurted out straight up.

Maybe a “Hello” or “Thanks for stopping by” would have been more appropriate, but the thought that had driven you insane the last three to four weeks just slipped out.

"I know. I'm sorry", Arthur jumped off his horse when you had reached your newly fixed gate. He looked at you, trying to take it all in. He had missed you; he had thought of you so much the last days and weeks, having you in front of him was a little overwhelming. But you looked like he remembered you. You weren’t wearing your fine clothes that you had worn when you caught him in your pond, but the worn jeans and shirt that had seen many fences painted and potted many plants looked good on you. It looked homely.

Arthur cleared his throat before he asked, "D'ya still cut hair?"

It was awkward...the ways he pronounced his question, the uncomfortable manner in which he scratched his way too long beard, seemingly unhappy with its new length.

Before you could answer, he added sarcastically: "Tried finding a barber on the Caribbean island but didn't came across someone I wanted to trust with scissors."

"Caribbean island?", you repeated questioningly, leading him into the cabin.

The tension between you felt peculiar. If tension were a tangible thing, you could have thrown a lasso and seemingly strangled it out of the air. But it wasn’t, so you and Arthur only struggled with finding your rhythm again.

"I came as soon as I could after returning...", Arthur explained apologizing, as if he had to rectify not visiting you sooner.

"Arthur. I thought you were dead", in front of your table, you stopped and looked directly at the man.

"'m afraid I have to disappoint", he chuckled, "Instead I'm here, asking ya for a cheap haircut because we lost...ten thousands in the sea."

"Ugh", you groaned, readying a chair for Arthur to sit on right at the table, "You sound so desperate, I might just give ya that haircut for free."

Arthur placed his jacket on a hinge next to the door and his hat on a free spot on the table. Again, it felt like he knew exactly where to place them, just as if he was coming home after a workday.

"Where d'ya want me, miss?", Arthur asked politely as if he had just entered a barber shop and there wasn't only one chair that looked prepared enough to serve as seat for his cut. You pointed at the chair a little absentmindedly, gathering your equipment and laying it out in the table in front of you.

"How short were you thinking?", you asked, walking around the seated man, ruffling his hair a little.

"Whatever you prefer", Arthur answered.

"What's that supposed to mean?", you asked, letting your finger scrape through his hair. His hair was wet at the roots, so you added surprisedly, "Did you just take a bath?"

"Might 've...", Arthur shrugged as if it was no big deal.

"You didn’t have to”, you reassured him, secretly amused by how endearing you found it.

"You wouldn't say that if you’d seen me before the bath. After three days in the Caribbean, killing half of the Pinkerton's agency and moving camp, you would have shot me on sight", Arthur joked, a bitter smile playing on his lips. Your answer was a soft chuckle.

After combing his hair, you repeated you question: "You're sure you don't want me to tell you how you want your hair done?"

"I trust ya", Arthur said.

"Mh, big mistake", you grinned. You caught Arthur's eye for a moment, and you could have sworn it was admiration in his expression. And trust, which honestly, was seldom for this man.

"I'll just cut it a little shorter than you had it when you first came to collect me", you said, waiting for his confirmation.

"...collect you and failed miserably at that", Arthur added.

"I thank the lord every day for that", you said jokingly. It was no laughing matter, though. You knew that as well as Arthur. The list of people the gang had lost in the last two months was long and you not rejoining was probably the only thing that had kept your name off that list.

You started doing Arthur's hair and one minute in, you decided to carefully pose the question of "What the hell happened the last couple weeks?". Arthur couldn't stop talking. He explained the plan of the bank robbery, explained when it went south. When Hosea was mentioned, he digressed a little. You too ended up sharing some anecdotes of the old man. You had loved him and felt a pang of guilt that you hadn't sent word to him that you were indeed fine. Hosea had been so kind to you when you expressed your wish to be on your own for a while, he had wished you the best and you had never even thought about sending a letter.

Then Arthur mentioned escape from Saint Denis. Your mouth went dry when Arthur recounted the storm, how he went overboard, nearly drowning and not knowing how lucky he was that he washed ashore on a beach. It was uncanny how some of the rumours you had heard mirrored the actual story.

Then came Guarma and everything that happened there. The return, the Pinkertons apparently following someone to Lagras and finally the move to Beaver's Hollow. They had been up there for a couple a couple of days now, and so much had already happened.

You listened, occasionally asked a question, but most of the time you were concentrating on not messing up the haircut. You had never heard Arthur talk that much before. Sober, that is. He can be quite a chatty drunk, but it seemed like he just wanted to get everything off his chest.

"How does that look?", you asked when you were done with his hair, holding a little mirror for Arthur to see.

His only response was a nob and a slight smile.

"Okay then", you spoke gently, "your beard's next."

The whole retelling of the last couple of weeks was what Arthur needed, but it killed his mood the same time. At least, that's what you though he was silent for. You cleared a spot on the table for you to sit on. It was way more comfortable sitting in front of Arthur while trimming his beard, but if you sat on a chair, you wouldn't have the height you needed.

You took a seat on the table in front of Arthur and noticed how his eyes immediately fixed on the ground.

"D'ya mind spreading your legs a little?", you asked. Despite the request confusing him a little, Arthur did as he was told and you put your on foot on his chair, so you wouldn't topple forward. Arthur tried his best to stifle the cough that worked its way up as he choked on his own saliva at this move.

"We're not going for a clean shave, are we?", you asked casually, trying to catch Arthur's eyes. He shrugged: "Whatever's easier for you."

You shook your head and began to trim his beard back to what you remembered he had the last time he visited you. Soon after you started, you noticed Arthur's cheeks getting warm and red. You were well aware that your cleavage was on his eye-level, probably the reason why he decided he was better off inspecting the floor. Meanwhile, you enjoyed gently tilting his head the way you needed it, finding no resistance from the man himself.

You talked only little, answering insignificant questions Arthur posed when the blade wasn't near his face, and he could actually move his mouth. You were almost done, only lining up his beard to give it an overall cleaner look, when Arthur said something out of the blue.

"Y'know, I been thinkin' about you. A lot," Arthur croaked, his throat dry all of a sudden.

"Mhm", you answered, not sure which direction that was supposed to go. You stopped shaving off the stubble on his neck when his Adam’s apple bobbed.

"Uh, I mean...", Arthur clears his throat, forcing you to stop the shave and look at him. Finally, his eyes found yours, "We're...uhm...friends, I hope." He forced a little chuckle that didn't sound genuine, especially under your curious gaze. You gave a quiet hum as sign of agreement.

"'s just that I...look, I understand if ya've found someone else. Hell, I took my sweet time and it wasn't fair how I treated you when you...", Arthur cleared his throat again, the words coming difficult to him, "when ya told me about yer feelings."

This was the point when your heartrate picked up and you felt your hands become sweatier. You had to put the blade down for a moment to wipe your hand on your shirt. Your mind was still caught on the line 'I understand if ya've found someone else'...like that had even been an option for you. For months you had tried to get over this man, then he came back waltzing into your life and you put your own ugly bounty poster on the wall as a reminder. And the you fixed the bedframe that he had fixed rather unsatisfyingly. You hadn't told him it broke the very same night he had “repaired” it. Nothing had changes the last year, you were pining as much for this man as ever...and yet, you didn't quite know how to react.

"I really like ya", he finally said, " I know well I don’t deserve it, but if ya wanted to give me another chance…"

"Morgan", you exhaled, "I got my boot between your balls and a blade at your throat...if you want to pull my leg I suggest you-"

"I mean it", and Arthur's gaze was so intense, this time it was you who struggled to watch him in the eye. You knew he wasn't lying. Hell, you hadn't really expected that he was just pulling your leg, you just said it to say something…to lighten up the mood that appeared so heavy again.

"Okay", you mumbled, barely able to disguise the tremor in your voice. Then you took the blade again, carefully turning Arthur's head upwards so you could better reach the hair you still needed to shave. There was this long and uncomfortable silence that neither of you wanted to break. You heard the birds outside, the blade scratching the skin and a heartbeat...if it was yours or Arthur's, you weren't quite sure.

Arthur thought that Guarma had been hell, but he found that your silence and okay was even more tortuous.

Finally, you were done. With a hairdressing brush you got rid of all the loose hair that decorated Arthur’s face. He gave you a slightly annoyed look as you tickled him behind his ears. Then you took the little towel that had prevented hair from falling into his shirt out in the garden to shake it out.

The moment you stepped into the cabin again, Arthur's eyes caught yours and they were demanding an answer.

"I've never stopped loving you", the words burned as they left your mouth. The towel was thrown over an empty chair. Saying the words out loud…it changed something. Because as long as you had only thought them, there was this slim chance that they weren’t true. But there was no backing-out now, no denying.

You continued: "But I can't...I won't rejoin the gang. I want to live here."

You said that because you knew that Arthur wouldn’t leave the gang for you, but you wouldn’t rejoin in either.

"Y/n...this thing is pretty much over", Arthur sighed. He was referring to the gang. He had alluded to it when he had recounted the happenings of the past weeks, especially breaking John out of jail and earning Dutch's disapproval. This was the first time he directly admitted it, "I want the Marstons safe...and the women...then it's done."

"Oh, so 'one more big score and then you can leave everything behind", you mimicked Dutch's voice. A tinge of animosity accompanied your words and this certainly wasn’t lost on Arthur. You couldn’t help but feel a bit unfairly placed in this situation.

"C'mere for a second", Arthur beckoned you, his eyes following every one of your movements until you stood in front of him, your hips brushing against the table. Arthur remained seated in his chair. Glancing at the man quickly, you congratulated yourself on having done a good job; his haircut looked sharp.

Then, suddenly, Arthur took your hand. It was such an unusual gesture, it alarmed you immediately. His hands were warm and rough, but not in an unpleasant way. Arthur held your hand lightly, as if he was afraid of hurting you.

"I promise this is the last time. In a week, we're going to hit a train with army pay. Wednesday evening. After that, I'm done", Arthur spoke earnestly.

"I can't-" believe you, you wanted to say, because you knew it had been the same story with Mary. You knew that once an outlaw means always and outlaw. Not even Arthur's word was enough to ensure that those bonds wouldn't bind him to his old life and to the gang.

"Don’t say nothing yet", Arthur interrupted calmly. He stood up and let your hand slide off his, as he walked to his satchel. He pulled out his journal and carefully put it next to you. With no hesitation, he opened and skimmed through it. You couldn't see most of the pages because he flipped through them so quickly.

"It ain't even half-way done", Arthur assessed, showing you the empty pages, "I'll leave that here 'n collect it in a week."

"What?", you questioned, frowning, "What if I decide to read it as a bedtime story?"

"'s nothing in there that yer not allowed to know", Arthur mumbled, "Contrary. Sometimes I think I'm much better expressing my feelings on paper. I've never been a good talker."

Silently, Arthur opened a page in his journal that had a little dog-ear. The left side was empty and only had smudges of pencil on it, on the right side there was this impressively detailed bounty poster. It had the layout of the bounty posters they have hanging all over town, obviously it wasn't printed, but hand drawn. You recognized your name, your 15-dollars-worth and then yourself, staring back at you. You hadn't imagined Arthur to be one to draw people, let alone portrait style. In the brush of his pencil you recognized that he might be more professed in sketching trees and animals, but it was a perfectly decent drawing of you. Hell, it was even flattering, compared to the atrocity they had on your real poster.

Arthur put the journal away, leaving it on top of a pile of books on your nightstand.

"I jus' need t'know if this is a place I'm allowed to return to", Arthur finally asked.

"Always", you replied without hesitation, your gaze still fixed on his journal. Is he trying in tempting you to read it? Because if that's the case, it was definitely working.

"So I won't be greeted with a gun in my face?", Arthur chuckled.

You sighed, taking a brush that stood abandoned in the corner of the room and started to swipe Arthur's hair out of the house. "If you're going to bring that up one more time, I swear I'll give you a reason to fear me", you quipped.

"Oh, I already fear you a great deal", Arthur said sarcastically.

You shot him an intense gaze.

"You staying for dinner?", you asked in between the sound of bristles scratching on wood.

Arthur shrugged, mumbling: "They won't miss me for another day..."

"Good. Then go hunt something", you asserted, gently shoving him outside by brushing against his boots until he took the hint.

"Yes ma'am...", Arthur mumbled, a hint of amusement in his voice. When you had successfully shoved him outside, you closed the door behind him, not without a bit of force. It left him slightly perplexed and wondering.

You had tried your best to hold your feelings together, but it had become a little much. Since Arthur's confession, your hands hadn't stopped shaking and you hastily put the brush aside, sitting down with your back against the door. There were so many feelings inside you that all needed to be addressed, but you struggled to even detangle them.

First and foremost: You had spent months pining for Arthur, only to be rejected in a cruel way and then again wasting months in trying to get over him. Just when you thought you were getting somewhere, he comes back into your life with a request that suggests anything but care for you. So, he leaves, and appears again. Then leaves again, presumed dead or out of country and now he's here again, asking for another chance as if you even had the power to reject him. You didn't know if Arthur would be able to make you happy. In a way, you feared it might be the opposite because there was still one score...one more score. He might die, or he might stay for another score, and another, and so on.

You stifled a sob. Scenarios played out in your mind, and they all converged into two possible outcomes, ending with Arthur dead or disappeared, disappointing you yet and yet again because one can't just stop being an outlaw. The 5000 on his head won't just disappear, presumed or actually dead - it didn't matter much.

"Son of a bitch", you hissed, mad at the situation.

You just wanted to be happy and find some closure for this surge of emotions that had held you hostage for months, if not years.

"Y/n?", Arthur's voice was so soft when he called out your name, you almost jumped in shock because you thought he had long gone hunting. But his voice came from right in front of the door.

"You okay?", he asked quietly.

"Yeah", you croaked, and it sounded anything but convincing.

"Ya sure?", he wanted you to confirm.

"I just need some time to think...", you whispered, trying hard not to sob.

"I'll stay close", you heard him state, then there were his steps leading away from the house.

For a while, you just sat on the floor. How to proceed?

By the time Arthur returned, the door to your cabin was wide open again, the sun shining inside. You had made your decision.

"I got us a rabbit", Arthur announced, "already skinned it. Figured it ain’t your kinda work."

You responded with an appreciative nod.

"It’s a real beauty”, Arthur grinned, a wisp of humour in his eyes, “or was, anyhow. I shot it with a small arrow so I reckon the meat-“ before Arthur could put the rabbit down on the table, you had sneaked in for a hug.

"Oh", Arthur stuttered, carefully placing the rabbit down. He lifted his bloody and dirty hands in the air to make sure not to get any dirt on you. Even though you wore clothes that had seen better days and apparently had been demoted to housework, he still didn’t want to get you dirty. Despite his desire to reciprocate the hug.

"Y/n…", he chuckled apologetically, "I need to get washed up."

At that moment, you suddenly looked up to him, your faces mere inches apart. He noticed your gaze drifting between his eyes and lips, then you leaned in, placing a gentle peck on his cheek.

The blush was immediate. Your hands instinctively found their way to his face and tenderly cupped his cheeks. They were just as warm as they had been when you cut his beard.

"I'm really glad you're here", you said, a smile playing on your lips.

"Yeah, I'm-" Arthur began, but you interrupted him with a proper kiss. It was a brief one, testing the waters if Arthur would be fine with that. As you pulled back slightly to assess his reaction, he didn’t hesitate a second, closing the distance between you once more. "I really …don't wanna get ya…dirty", Arthur mumbled between kisses. He could feel the corner of your lips curving into a smile each time you interrupted him. The man struggled to keep his dirty hands in the air.

The kisses quickly became more passionate, and when your hands left his cheeks, one to rest in the hollow between his shoulder and neck, while the other one boldly explored his chest region. It occasionally shifted to grab his arm and squeezing lightly.

Arthur mumbled your name warningly, twice. Then he couldn't help but put his hand in the small of your back, pushing you closer. His bloody hands would surely leave a mark on your clothes, but neither of you cared about that, as his hands became just as active as yours, sometimes cupping your cheek, at other times allowing himself to explore your body a little.

Arthur had just enough control to not place you on the rabbit, when he lifted you up on the table. When both of you became short of breath, Arthur rested his forehead against yours. Your legs had snaked around his, caging him in.

"Haven't done that in a long time", Arthur's voice was raspy as he tried to apologize for the somewhat sloppy make-out session.

"Me neither", you giggled and placed a final kiss on his cheek, "brushed your hair for nothing", you noted, looking up to Arthur's tousled hair. Your fault.

Arthur backed away a little, as much as your legs allowed him: "Christ." He had left signific signs of blood and dirt all over you.

"Mhh…", you hummed amusedly, "Ain't my fault you can't keep your hands to yourself."

"T'way I see it, darling…", Arthur smiled and tried to brush some dirt off your cheek with his thumb, "it's precisely your fault."

Arthur had headed to a keg outside to get cleaned. You decided to get cleaned up only after butchering the rabbit, as this would get your hands dirty again anyways. As the meat sizzled in the in the pan, you decided it was time to wash up as well. While you put the finishing touches on the dish, Arthur sat at the table, leisurely smoking a cigarette and observing you. He had asked if he could help you with anything, but you had declined, insisting that he had already done his part by hunting the rabbit. It was your turn prepare it.

When you plated the meal, it was really nothing too complicated, and yet, Arthur thought, for a free meal, it was perfect. You initiated a conversation; it was more light-hearted than the one you had when you cut his hair. The weightier themes seemed to have lifted from Arthur’s heart, and both of you sought distractions.

You told Arthur more about how you passed your days, gardening, drawing, riding into town. Really most of the money you earned the honest way, cutting hair and doing the odd delivery job for the grocery store.

It was frightening how easy it was to talk to Arthur. Two or three years ago, you would have never imagined, talking so freely to him. Though he'd always been kind, there was an air of unapproachability that had since crumbled completely after the heartfelt conversation you both shared.

The conversation where Arthur poured out his frustrations and regrets concerning Hosea's and Lenny's death, had brought a sense of liberation. It dawned on him how long it had been since he spoke so openly with anyone. Arthur leaned back into his chair. In front of him was his empty plate, opposite of the table, you sat within arm’s reach, chatting about an interesting traveller that came past your cabin a few months back. Arthur listened attentively, his eyes following the movements of your fingers skilfully rolling a cigarette.

Neither of you ran out of stories to tell the other. Arthur talked about people he had met on his travels, a clumsy photographer, a man obsessed with fast horses and racing.

You only realised how long you had been talking when the light in the cabin became sparse, the sun sinking closer to the horizon.

As the visibility waned, limited to the faint glow emitted by the burning tip of the cigarette, you finally rose to your feet to illuminate the cabin with the warm light of lanterns.

"I'll get my bedroll", Arthur announced, standing up with a grunt. He hadn't allowed himself to be this idle in a long time. All he had done today was sitting still for a haircut, killing one rabbit and then indulging in a lavish meal while engaging in easy conversation. His body had finally caught up with the stress of the last few weeks and he didn't know how to feel about how much his body ached. Despite the sun barely disappearing, Arthur would have been ready for bed. Funny, he thought, admitting one’s feeling for a girl could drain his strength that much.

At his announcement, Arthur noticed that you halted and were about to open your mouth as if to suggest something. But you didn't and let him venture outside.

When he took longer than anticipated, you followed him outside, only to find him leaning against the fence, his eyes in the sky. The sky was in this beautiful transition phase, going from hues of purple to a serene shade of blue with the first stars emerging in the east. You observed Arthur’s profile for a while, he didn't protest or showed any signs of being disturbed by your presence.

He was handsome. Something about his stature made you want to lean into him. But you didn't. Instead, you stood there, finding it hard to peel your eyes off him. Your lips quivered under the urge to say what you had thought earlier. After a big breath, you tried to say as casually as you managed: "I know my bed is too small for two people...but I was thinking if I put the mattress on the floor we could-"

"Y/N", Arthur interrupted you gently. He turned to look at you. Caringly, his hand found your shoulder, "It ain't right just yet."

Lying next to each other, cuddling, hugging, maybe stealing another kiss, you craved it badly. You finally had what you had desired for so long, you wanted it all at once. But Arthur knew that it would be unwise. He thought a lot about you, hell he did. And in his mind, he'd be too embarrassed to admit it of course, you had done way more than just kissed. But he knew it'd be wrong. He didn't want to fully commit just yet, and he didn't want to get your hopes up. It was genuine, when he said that the train robbery was the last score he wanted to do with the gang, but one train robbery is enough to get killed and he wouldn't dream about giving you this kind of pain. If he held it vague, if there was no sleeping close to each other, there was also no missing this proximity...if. Always if.

"Fine", you sucked in a little air, "but you take the bed then."

The two of you headed inside, Arthur with his bedroll clamped under his arm.

He shook his head: "It's your house, I can't jus'-"

"Exactly. It's my house, I can sleep in the bed every damn day. Besides, I don't figure you had a proper bed on Guarma, did you?", you teased.

"No, but-"

"Neither do you have one in camp so please- accept it", you looked up at Arthur rather desperately.

"Fine. You don't come complainin' to me if yer back hurts tomorrow", Arthur quipped.

"Oh, I'll definitely complain", you grinned. Arthur gave you his bedroll to spread in the corner where he had slept the last time. Arthur had sat down on the bed and watched you quietly as you readied your sleeping corner. When you glanced back at him, it was evident how weary he was, his eyes barely open, sitting up only out of politeness.

"You don't have to stay awake for me", you smiled, leaning against the table and studying the exhausted man. You noticed how tired he had become during your conversation. He had at least supressed three yawns.

"I jus'...haven't seen ya for so long, I don't want to waste that time with sleeping", Arthur explained. You found it cute he thought that way.

"You're not wasting anything", 'because we'll see each other again in a week, right?' you added in your mind. "I have this book I want to finish anyways, you just rest", you assured him.

You waited until he had settled in, exchanging a couple laughs about how unstable your bedframe was, and then you did the dishes. It didn't take you long, but Arthur was asleep when you had finished. He was turned towards the wall. On the nightstand was his journal. He had put it on top of the book you were currently reading. You took the book and settled on the bedroll.

You woke up to the sound of the bed creaking and blinked at Arthur, the first rays of the sun casting a warm glow on his frame. At some point during the night, he must have woken up and shed his clothes, as he now rested in the room clad only in his unionsuit.

"'m sorry, darlin'. I didn't want to wake ya", he apologized his raspy morning voice.

"It's okay", you yawned, forcing yourself to throw off your blanket to stand up, "I'll make some coffee."

In a couple big steps, Arthur was at your side: "You sleep some more, it's my turn for breakfast." Arthur squatted next to you and tugged you in before you could protest. You forced your tired eyes to stay on his face and not venture further down, pondering what the thin material might reveal.

When Arthur shot you a content smile, seeing you were up for no protest, a wave of panic washed over you.

"You won't just leave, right?", all of a sudden, you were wide awake.

"I won't", Arthur assured you.

"'cause if you do-", you started, a yawn interrupting your threat. Arthur chuckled at how cute and innocent you looked, happy that your yawn cut off before you could destroy that innocence with another gory threat.

"I'm way too scared of what you'd do", and then, to your surprise, he kissed your forehead. You only relaxed when Arthur had stood up again and indeed started to set up coffee. You were soon off to sleep again, only woken when the sizzling of fat in the pan woke you.

Arthur had made eggs. You ate in silence. A couple of times, Arthur tried to start a conversation, but you weren’t in the mood. He’d be gone in a couple of hours and you’d be left wondering if he’d ever return. Arthur knew that this was what was plaguing you, but he didn’t find the right angle to approach you.

You both did the dishes together, you helped Arthur by saddling his horse and then he had mounted it, looking down at you.

“Ya ain’t so happy about the prospect of me returning in a week, ‘s that it?”, Arthur joked.

“No”, you answered dryly, “I ain’t so happy about you leaving for a week.”

Arthur sighed and steered his horse closer to the fence: “Climb up here, I gotta tell ya something.”

Rather unwillingly, you climbed on one of the horizontal planks that kept your fence together. Arthur offered his hand for support and as an excuse to pull you a little closer. He kissed you, gently, on your lips.

“I promised I’ll be back, didn’t I?”, Arthur mumbled. He wasn’t convinced, and neither were you when you whispered a dire “Yeah..”

You didn’t like the good-bye kiss. In fact, you wished he hadn’t done that. It hurt even more, seeing him disappear between the trees in the distance. For a while, you stood there helplessly, wondering what to do next. Minutes passed before you ventured into your cabin, distracting yourself with some cleaning before your eyes fell on Arthur’s journal. You noticed a piece of paper sticking out. Without thinking, you opened the journal and the loose paper floated to the ground. You didn’t even bother picking it up, your eyes caught the first word written on top of the page. It was your name, written in Arthur’s familiar handwriting.

“Hell no”, you kicked the paper under the bed before you could read any further. You weren’t up for some heartfelt “Good-bye, in case I die I want you to know this”-letter. Frustration and anger bubbled within you as you scrambled into your good jeans and crammed your revolver into its back pocket. With a swift motion, you picked up your hunting rifle, mounted your horse and started to follow Arthur’s track.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x--x-x-x-x-x-x-x

next chapter: here

Shoutout to @little-honeypie who basically wrote the confession scene. I wouldn't have ever finished this if it weren't for them <3

taglist: @photo1030

taglist for this series: @pinkiemme @loveheartarthur @twola @shiokitsune @missredemption @kakashiislut @thewalkingdead1463 @yyiikes @renwai @walk-in-sunshine @rdrlady @ivybeeloved @trinswhimsys @reddedmiller @chiefqueefsosa @sauvignon-velvet @mrsarthurmorgan @readingcoco @pookiesnatcher @gloomdoomraccoon

#arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan fanfiction #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan #rdr2 #arthur morgan x female reader #red dead redemption community #rdr2 fanfiction #rdr #rdr fanfiction

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paper-mario-wiki · 3 months

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hi, i'm not the person who asked you about the life update, but could you elaborate on how being a creator means to live in a world of ideas instead of the real world? i'm just really curious about your reasons for quitting, specially because i want to create things in the future (not necessarily streaming, but anyways), hope you have a good day!

i'll be talking mostly about streaming for the sake of this answer, but this is similarly applicable across a wide range of platforms:

the job of the streamer is, effectively, to be the life of the party every single day. your goal is to be the person that has something interesting to talk about, and is quick with a joke, and has nuanced understandings of certain things, without actually obtaining any sort of "expertise" in anything lest you alienate viewers. short of having a stated goal for a stream, the only goal of the streamer is to let people relax with a voice they enjoy, saying things they like hearing. you can become very strong in different aspects of streaming, like in the production, or as someone who focuses more on a skill they've honed like art or speedrunning, but the demographic of streamers which pulls, by far, the most significant viewership, is personality based streamers.

this becomes more complicated when, for example, you are very interactive with chat, or you stream with multiple people at once. now, to maintain this charismatic sway you have (the one that got you the job in the first place), you must be able to adapt to and bounce off of other people, as you are now no longer performing alone. naturally, there's a need to not only manage your own flow of consciousness, but also to be at least partially in sync with someone else's.

beyond these complications, you must also consider drawing in new viewership. when i was a streamer, i was quite successful, relatively speaking. pulling 300 viewers consistently is something a very slim amount of streamers can actually do, and even then i was still making under 50k a year, which is not bad, but also not good. in paying for my apartment, my insurance, my travel fare, and all the other stuff that living independently draws money out of you with, i was more often in the red than i was in the green. hence, the need to draw in new viewers, which cannot be done without something eye-catching.

think about this: there are, at any given time, TENS OF THOUSANDS of streamers live in your native language on twitch, and they are all FREE TO WATCH. the attention market is sparse because the streamer market is oversaturated. and considering all of THEM want new viewers too, everyone is constantly refining and improving their craft, which requires everyone to move creatively in tandem with each other lest they get left behind.

if you are a streamer making ass-dollars and ass-cents, it becomes easy to begin resenting people like jerma, solely because everything he touches seems to turn to gold. i personally found it easy to feel very disappointed in myself when peoples projects that seemed so simple would take off. it was a constant "why didn't i think of that!" situation, at least for me. and when you don't have the energy to keep that up, or the social stamina necessary to figure that all out while also being upbeat and happy in front of people near daily, it can become very draining.

what i mean specifically when i say the "world of ideas", is like. there would be times where i could schedule out my failures weeks in advance. i'd be so in my own head about the process, i could see the exact path i could see myself taking that would lead me directly to ruin. how playing games i actually enjoyed would steadily drop viewership, or how focusing on my studies would make people forget about me. and of course this is augmented by my anxiety, i know this is absolutely not the case for every streamer, but that overwhelming feeling of needing to find a new game to play, or a new gimmick to use, or a new ploy to get money that doesn't make you feel guilty even though your source of income is mostly queer and mostly poor young adults and your rent is coming up and you're $200 short but you also just had a fundraiser last month about a DIFFERENT emergency but you cant make it a bummer or else people wont want to tune in so you have to make it something fun like "you laugh you lose!" or "$1 art request streams!" while feeling nothing but anxiety while youre trying to sound like youre enjoying yourself even when youre asking 250 people to donate every 30 minutes or so and nobody seems to want to and chat is moving slowly and. and and.

well, it starts to eat away at you.

#anon

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kanelia · 14 days

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honestly the intensity and even vulgarity of the backlash ive seen to the notion that it's worthwhile to talk about moc on white women rape has made me lose my last shred of respect for the average intersectional 'radfem', as well as my willingness to take their words in good faith by default. if making your own post, no derailment from other women's own issues, is inherently unacceptable because it paints moc in a bad light for committing rape, where is the feminism at all lmfao. and by the way, doesn't this line of reasoning sound oddly familiar? like, perhaps, we've already heard it applied to some begendered demographic of men, maybe?

I have now watched for the past 7 months the tumblr radfems share antisemitic disinformation and historical revisionism, so them clutching their pearls over this latest racism drama has made me roll my eyes a bit.

Whether people would like it to be true or not, it is quite well documented that in Norway, Sweden and Finland, men immigrating from certain countries are overrepresented in sex crime statistics despite being such a small minority. Obviously, there are some natural explanations to this like that the majority of people we have taken in from those countries are young men (a major brainfart), and everyone knows men integrate worse than women and love to commit crimes. However, from what I have understood, it does not entirely explain the phenomenon. Then what does? Is our police more willing to pursue sex criminals that are not natives? Maybe. Does the culture of these men have an impact? Psychologists who have talked to these men seem to think so. However, we do not really know because it is so difficult to research or even talk about this topic without getting caught between far-right and far-left. Far-right obviously uses this to justify their racism towards people of colour. Far-left, on the other hand, gaslights and screams 'racism' at anyone who tries to touch the subject. It is almost impossible to find objective analysis. Ayaan Hirsi Ali wrote a good article about this.

The thing with tumblr radfems and other lefties in general is that (no matter if they actually are American or not) they tend to have such an 'americanised' point of view when it comes to race, women's rights, social issues, and history. They seem to have this weird black-and-white (no pun intented) thinking where the whole world is a sort of extension of American society and people are monoliths based on their skin colour. All nations with the mostly white populations are some oppressor/coloniser/slaver states and non-western nations with a mostly black or brown populations are constant victims of 'whites' no matter how much they discriminate against their women, minorities and neighbouring states. And when you bring up certain subjects, they instantly think about their own Western white men versus their own Western men of colour - not men from the most gender equal countries in the world (I would like to point out the USA is only on rank 43 when it comes to gender equality while 4 out of 5 Nordic countries are on top 6) versus men who immigrate to these countries from the countries ranking the lowest when it comes to women's rights. Then they come to some pretty ridiculous conclusions like 'culture does not have an impact, it is all about class', 'you must think white men [the monolith] rapes less' and 'do you know what vikings did 1000 years ago'.

It is a little funny how everyone here seems to recognise the impact of male and female socialisation and how misogyny is largely learned, but simultanously likes to pretend an average man brought up in ultra religious conservative third-world country, where women are not even allowed to go to school or work or where rape cases are resolved by making the woman marry their rapist, has the exact same attitude towards women as an average man who has been brought up in a country with female presidents and prime ministers. Are we also supposed to pretend that if a man from the times of 'hysterical women just have wandering uteruses and should not vote' time travelled here, he would look at women from the same point of view as a modern man? If there are no cultural differences, aren't we supposed to come to the conclusion that actually it is just as bad for women everywhere? If yes, then what are the comparisons about gender equality between countries based on?

If I, as a Scandinavian woman, went ahead and claimed I face the same amount of misogyny in my everyday life as, for example, a Sudanese woman, I would be just blatantly lying and soon receiving some pretty angry anons. I have been told a few times that I am privileged compared to women living in the African countries or in the MENA region. And I agree. But what is my privilege as a Nordic woman based on? What or who makes it worse for women in these other countries? I thought we all agreed it was a 3 letter word starting with an m and ending with an n. Why are we suddenly pretending there is no connection?

This does not obviously mean men are better or worse because of their ethnicity, skin colour or what is in their blood. However, they are a product of their environment. Everyone knows that in certain countries the more extreme levels of misogyny are more common. It is one of those things that we are for some reason now supposed to pretend we do not know, but everyone knows it. Pointing this out most certainly does not mean Nordic men do not rape (they very much do) or that Nordic men are not misogynistic (they very much are), but compared to some of the worst countries for women in the world, Nordic countries are still among the best places for women to live. Not because of our men are somehow naturally 'better' or some crap, but because we have been historically lucky when it comes to our foremothers being able to advance women's rights. And, in my opinion, no matter how 'white' our women are, they still have a right to ask questions and express their worry over what kind of impact men, coming from cultures with non-existent women's right, are going to have on our societies. It is a valid question and I wish women would talk more about this from their native perspective. However, after seeing how rapid this topic gets every time, I do not think we are that far yet.

This is a difficult and sensitive subject, but there are still more than just two ways to approach it. It is not that either you are a racist, who thinks men's misogyny is based on their skin colour, or you must think an environment or culture has no impact whatsoever on how men treat women.

#it took a long time to write this and i probably did not manage to bring my point out as well as i tried but eh whatever #waiting for hate anons #i am glad a certain rapid someone is blocked #racism #feminism #immigration #anon ask #radblr #radical feminism

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mayakern · 1 month

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hello! I have watched your videos and I am sorry the preorder is going so poorly. You all have poured so much time and care and thought into these, and if anything I think you're doing *too much* in the way of trying to accommodate customer requests when it comes to color/pattern specifically. for all that you are so open with your back-end processes, you guys are always going to be able to see the big picture better than anyone. Also, you have way more at stake in your design decisions than your customers do.

all this to say - don't make your pattern decisions based on polls! Use demographic data, sales data, seasonality, info about what colors (and complementary items) are currently popular in other stores - polls might have a place in there, but they're not super trustworthy and they can't bear all of the weight, because ultimately you know more than we do.

I also want to tell you that I'm so appreciative of the lengths you're going to to provide us with lovely, sustainable fashion for all sizes and texture tolerances, and I hope this doesn't discourage you for long!

i appreciate your thoughtfulness.

previous to this experience, polling our customers has been very effective. it just sucks that wasn’t the case this time because this was the time where we really needed to make sure we had a hit because the shirt and dress are SO expensive for us to make.

in the past we have just kind of done our own thing and said screw it. most of our customers aren’t super concerned with being on the cutting edge of trends, which is good, because that would be an impossible standard for us to follow when production cycles take minimum 2 months AFTER product development is complete and trend cycles seem to change every other week with the advent of shein and other fast fashion sites being able to pump things out super fast and the life cycle of everything on tiktok being super short, in part due to the generational shift from subcultures to aesthetics.

we’ve been having a lot of internal conversations about this situation and what to do going forward. in large part i think what we’ve learned is that any more complicated pieces (like the shirts) we need to make with less expensive fabric. the cost of a garment isn’t just about how much fabric it takes, but how many lines of stitches are required and if any specialty processes or materials are used (sewing in buttons, adding zippers or gussets, etc). ultimately the shirts are expensive not just because of the high quality material, but also because they are a complicated garment made by people who are being fairly compensated for their labor. we can lower that price slightly in the future by changing the materials we use, but by and large this means we will be trying to focus on less complicated garments in the future.

#ask #store

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matan4il · 19 days

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Hey! Anon from the last time here! By "Pro-Palestine Westeners" I was partially referring to all these students from Columbia and MIT who were illegally occupying the school grounds and harassing/hurting the actual Israeli/Jewish/Middle Eastern/the other generally decent students.

I know there's Pro-Palestine people who are actually decent, but all these college students are risking suspension/expulsion/jailtime because they'd rather chant pro-Ha*as slogans rather and listening to news from biased fonts rather than educating themselves on what's really happening. Some people would rather stay in their ivory towers, rather than going outside and touching grass.

I also know there's LGBT+ people in Palestine and other parts of MENA, and all I wish for them is that they live long enough to find a place where to live freely and out of the closet, without suffering persecution from their government.

Hope this clarified at least a little bit my other ask, and sorry it sounded so ambiguous. Finally, let's hope that Eden Golan gets at least in the top 5 at Eurovision 2024, just to spite anyone who booed her.

Hi Nonnie!

Thank you for sending this ask to clarify the previous one, it's what I thought you meant, and I'm glad to hear I wasn't too off.

TBH, as a gay woman myself, with gay Palestinian friends who are a part of my queer community, and whose struggles I know well, that's the first group I thought about as well. Then I thought about the fact that under Hamas law, husbands can rape their wives with impunity. I thought about the way the Christian population (the biggest non-Muslim minority under Palestinian rule) has demographically plummeted in the areas that Israel passed on to Palestinian control as a part of the Oslo accords. I thought about black people, whose ancestors were kidnapped because of the Trans-Saharan (i.e Arab) trade slave, and are still treated as lesser humans because of that (based on their skin color, they are still referred to in Arabic to this day as "Abeed," meaning slaves).

I think this last group, which most people don't even realize exists, deserves a bit more info shared about it:

Pretty sure black activists in the states, who don't know the history (and present) of the Arab slave trade, or the persisting anti-black racism that exists in Palestinian society, have no clue they're being exploited against the same Jewish community, which stood with Martin Luther King Jr. and the civil rights movement, even having some of its members paying with their very lives for this. I hope they wake up and realized they're being used for antisemitic purposes by the same people who enslaved and are still discriminating against some of their people.

But it's funny how the world's activists and human rights defenders seem to ignore the plight of these marginalized Palestinians, isn't it? Almost like, because they're NOT being oppressed by Jews, rather by fellow Palestinians, and can't be used to justify antisemitic rhetoric and action, then they don't count. So much for minority solidarity and intersectionality, right? It doesn't extend to Jews, and it doesn't extend to Palestinians who can't be weaponized against Jews.

Regarding the last bit of your ask, bless you for being hit with Apollo's dodge ball and predicting Eden making it into the top 5, despite every effort made by the jury members of so many countries, the awful people in the audience, and members of fellow delegations. It was magnificent!

Sending you hugs! xoxox

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

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rocksalt-and-pie · 2 months

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they literally went "fuck the non-american part of the audience and also even if you're american fuck you if you're poor"

like, yes, of course artists deserve to be paid for their art! that's not the point here!

the point is that this just looks like a risky and not properly thought through business decision because what percentage of the fan base is left after cutting these factors from the demographic? and how many of those left are even willing to spend money on a handful of new videos per month? do they really think they are that competitive? do they even know their audience? have they done any market research whatsoever?

apparently they blindly assumed their entire american audience (how many are those? in numbers?) would sign up for this and keep carrying them forever, as if production costs would not continue to rise, inevitably leading to rising prices eventually (netflix started out as a $5 subscription site as well).

it just seems like a too hard cut to drop this concept (not to mention the alienating of the fans) instead of slowly moving towards that direction by for example offering different tiers (access to x amount of shows for $1, full access for $5, bonus content like that on patreon for $6, as well as free access with ads and sponsors). also, apparently there isn't even an app? like seriously what did they expect

#watcher #watcher tv #shane madej #ryan bergara #steven lim #out of touch!!! there is no other word for this #not to mention that a lot of people in the comment section said the connection was unsafe which. it's just not a good look y'all #also i refuse to make another account i hate making accounts. you're not getting my email #mp #bfu

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sassydefendorflower · 1 year

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Fashion Worldbuilding in FMA:b

From a historical fashion standpoint, the fashion in FMA:b (and the manga) is all over the place, but since the 1914/1915 setting of Amestris is not actually linked to the real historical time period there is no need to apply rigid fashion rules to the worldbuilding. And yet, I think it is very interesting to explain the fashion of Amestris through a Watsonian lens.

And what better place to start with than the very a-historical skin-tight, skin-showing clothing of our teenage characters?

Winry is always dressed practically and job oriented (coveralls, gloves, something to tie her hair back with) and yet she’s also dressed like a typical modern teenager. Crop tops and short skirts are the norm for when Winry is doing everyday stuff outside of her workshop or extreme territories. She is by far not the only character that dresses like this - we see both Matel and Paninya in similarly tight and form-fitting outfits.

And the world around them doesn’t react to this excess of skin with disgust or outrage - their way of clothing seems to be the general norm, or at least pretty widespread and accepted. But if we look closer, it seems that this is only a societal norm for young people.

Most of the older women we meet, are dressed rather conservatively, with dresses and long skirts being the norm. Hair is most often drawn in a bun on older female characters, and the general dress shape seems to be late 19th century inspired.

In this crowd scene for example, we can see a handful of young women wearing pants with their hair open, while the majority of the women depicted seem to be wearing skirts, dresses, and aprons as befitting a working women, while others seems to have scarves wrapped around their shoulders as if out and about on a stroll through town.

Which would make sense. This would divide the expected “proper” way of dressing along the axis of age (and/or marital status), with the cut-off being somewhere in the mid- to late twenties. Characters like Riza Hawkeye, Matel, and Sheska play into this, as they are all more conservatively dressed as Winry, but do not yet follow stricter fashion rules as they seem to be common in older demographics.

In this scene Riza is wearing a skirt that covers her knees and a jacket that covers her neck and the entirety of her arms. We later see her dressed in different civilian clothes as well, with a white blouse, a pink cardigan, and comfortable loose pants. As such she is in a transitional phase of fashion, between the more loose and short styles of the youth and the more traditional cuts of the older generation.

Shezka is much the same, her blouse and typical turtleneck much more “grown up” than the clothes Winry and her age-mates wear, and yet the rest of her clothes have not yet reached the same level of “age”. Both of these characters are also unmarried, which could be another factor in the way they dress - historically speaking, expectations on dress were different between single women and those that were married, so there is a distinct possibility of the same being the case in the world of FMA.

Which brings us to another very interesting axis of analysis: how do jobs and fashion interact in Fullmetal Alchemist?

The way I see it Amestris is a country on the verge of changing. We see a noteworthy amount of female soldiers, but only one female General - so much so, that Sloth is ordered to kill “the” female General, because Olivier Mira Armstrong is the only woman in the upper brass. The other female soldiers we meet all have ranks up to First Lieutenant, but nothing above. There are no female State Alchemists. Most of the other professionals we meet are men.

It makes sense for Olivier to be the first female general based on her family history and the fact that she was probably an outstanding soldier - but it also highlights that the military as a structure has probably only allowed female soldiers for up to 30 to 40 years by the time we meet the Elrics and their world. And I see much of Amestris through that lens - most gender-based laws have probably been repelled by now, but the society at large still remembers a much more divided structure. This is reflected in the fashion, of course.

In a country that has only recently changed its views on which professional fields should be open to all genders, the divide between the fashion rules for those that remember more rigid structures and those that grew up without certain assumptions is growing. Societal standards are slow to change, but they do reflect the opinions of the general public - or at least the rules and traditions people tend to cling to.

Let’s take Gracia for example. While the hemline in general seems to be rising in all age demographics (except the elderly, while staying relatively conservative in older demographics and - hypothetically - married women) Gracia dresses less form-fitting than other women in her age range (Riza Hawkeye, Rebecca Catalina). She is generally dressed more “proper”, even later on when we see her wearing skirts that end above the knee. What I really find interesting though is the comparison to her younger self - roughly eight years younger, as this is a picture from the end of the Ishval War. Even though she is probably about twenty to twenty-three in this picture, she is dressed a lot more conservative than all the other female characters we have met in that age range so far. This can have multiple reasons. Maybe Gracia is from a more conservative, rich family that favors more traditional style of dress - or we can see the rabid change in society in just eight years.

Again, Amestris as a society in the middle of extreme social change.

We can even see it in the military uniforms. Female soldiers in active duty wear the same clothes as their male counterparts.

(including the butt-cape)

But what we see multiple times is other female officers employed at Central Command (or other military headquarters) wearing a different uniform - with a much shorter skirt (tho a longer skirt option seems to be available, as we also see female soldiers wearing skirts that cover the knees).

This could imply two things: a) the longer skirts were the normal uniform for female employees of the military not cleared for active duty, and only recently shorter skirts became a part of the uniform as a reaction to the changing fashion landscape or b) the shorter skirts existed for longer as some sort of sexist tool of the upper brass to demean their female employees.

For the sake of our current worldbuilding, let’s go with Option A).

Again, the general hemline seems to be rising - in a way, it wouldn’t even be historically unheard off. In the 1920s the female silhouette changed so much in young, city-dwelling circles that you might even see the occasional knee peak out from under a skirt - Amestris could be experiencing a similar change in fashionable dress.

There is one other thing I want to mention while I’m at it: the influences of other cultures on Amestrian culture and fashion.

Amestris is an imperial power, and while that means that it has a very strong national identity on the one hand, we can also see how it has adapted other cultural influences in its daily life. While the wearing of traditional Ishvalen clothing is probably demonized and a sure way to get othered, influenced from other nations Amestris is war-ing with can be found.

Xing-style clothing seems to be pretty common, and if anything it seems to be a sign of status to be able to afford clothes from Xing.

We see Mrs. Bradley were Xing-style clothing multiple times throughout the show, and it always seems to be something a lady of good standing can do without consequences. This implies a certain level of cultural trade and exchange between the two countries, especially once you consider that Xingese features seem to be common enough in Amestris that Ling always has to mention his status as a foreigner since his appearance alone would not give it away.

(And the fact that all Lan Fan and Fu had to do to go undercover was exchange their Xingese dress for classical Amestrian clothing and suddenly they could disappear in a crowd without a problem)

And this bit of decor in General Grumman’s office? This also implies some sort of cultural influences from Drachma.

There is also the fact that class probably does play a role in the way people dress, with people from Rush Valley, a certified weird town full of weird people, dressing more wild, with less need for social conventions in a place like that. And people from the countryside favoring practicality over fashion, and much of the women we see there wearing loose dresses and aprons, which makes sense. At the same time, what little we see of the Armstrong family, they seem to favor a more conservative style of dress, even at a younger age.

Which makes sense - fashion is influenced by a lot of different factors, class, age, gender, gender representation, work and cultural influences all making a difference.

And just as an aside - while this post mostly discusses women’s fashion in FMA:b, I think it applies to men’s fashion as well. At least to a certain degree. While most men are much more uniformly dressed in “old-timey” clothing, the current shift seems to be happening when it comes to wearing hats.

And I also think teenage boys are less tied to the fashion expectations of their time - Edward for example dresses very modernly and weird. BUT and - this is very interesting - his sense of fashion is constantly considered as outside of the norm. Part of his Growing-Up Arc is starting to wear the clothes society expects him to wear... which means that while women’s fashion is rapidly changing, men’s fashion is still rather strict in comparison, with breaking of the rules being perceived as socially “punishable” in comparison.

#fma #fmab #edward elric #winry rockbell #riza hawkeye #fullmetal alchemist brotherhood #fma meta #fmab meta #fashion history #paninya #maria ross #my fun take on the world of amestris #amestris #fake fashion history #nothing too deep #just me doing a too deep analysis of the text #watsonian analysis

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n7punk · 22 days

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Adventures in unlicensed buffoonary! Recently this SPOP "Trivia book" got listed on Ebay, which was baffling to me both because I had never seen it before and because it was listed for two hundred fucking dollars

My gut instinct was "this isn't real" because again, I'm a freak who knows all these things, and yeah I can confirm this is bullshit.

Clayton Gallagher makes himself scarce online (probably to hide out from the lawyers), so I couldn't find any social media or a website for him - not to mention it's the name of a character from one of the Shameless shows to fuzz the radar - but he seems to exclusively create "trivia" and activity books based on random popular... things. Mostly shows (Trollhunters, the Amazing World of Gumball, etc) but also some... other things (Dolly Parton for some reason??).

He has created not one, but FOUR trvia books for She-ra, all using stolen/promotional art but that carefully never include any official endorsement or mention of Dreamworks, Netflix, Mattel, or Filmation. I'm highly convinced these things were written with AI, mostly due to things like the below excerpt from the first book's summary:

Like. Jesus christ. Maybe it's just a second language thing but the lack of spaces screams machine bullshit and we'll look at the insides later.

Okay so the first book came out on August 19th 2021 (another reason I lean towards AI) and features the debut season art. All the others came out on August 20th 2021 (literally a day later) and feature the season two art, stolen licensed book cover art (from Island of the Magical Creatures), and the season four teaser art (Rebellion variant).

I can only find these things available as e-books but apparently, supposedly, this one eBay seller has a rare physical paperback, which surely must make it worth 270$. I fully don't believe this is a real paperback unless it was self-printed. I think you either get a shitty slapped-together print out or a puff of smoke if you order this.

Now lets get into the stunning content. They all start with the cover art and then the same incredibly generic header

After about two seconds of investigation I see this is a pattern with all his trivia books across franchises. They all start like this and have identical copyright pages as well. Instead of taking four screenshots to show content is identical, just trust me from here on out everything is exactly the same across the She-ra books, including chapter headings, formatting, and trivia questions. These are just cover swaps.

The final chapters cut off here are "Chapter 6" and "See you later", neither of which has a page number. Again, this awkward phrasing is either written by AI or the author is ESL and I'm pretty 50/50 split on which. Let's get into the "trivia" and see if it solves it, shall we?

So. A couple things.

Yes, it DOES have a fill-in the blank for you to write your name even though this was clearly intended to be primarily, if not exclusively, an e-book. That's bold innovation!

They start off strong with a misspelling of quiz in the fucking header.

The formatting is godawful (point to AI for inconsistency, any human would see the obvious problems here as they work - or if they cared enough to glance at the output, which they clearly don't. Why is there a random A. out of nowhere?).

The trivia questions are awful (is She-ra an America streaming show? You think this counts as trivia that a kid - the obvious target demographic - wants to know? Second, I KNOW you're saying streaming because you're so scared of the word Netflix but somehow you're not worried about using the show logo and literally stealing the promotional art for the cover?).

The trivia answers are awful. Mama? Really? Maria is the only kind of good option because it's close to Mara to trip kids up or whatever, but also none of these are "other names" for She-ra! Adora and Mara are people who bear the title of She-ra, but you can't say "Genocide Joe" is another name for president, that's not how titles work! If you wanted to use this question, the answer would be "Princess of Power".

(Also lol at the answer key for question 2 now being wrong. Shit that might have been wrong at the time, when did Nate choose a new name? 2021? 2022? All those years blur together).

Okay I know you've all been on the edge of your seat about that last question cut off at the bottom of the page and yes, it is as factually wrong as you're expecting, and only gets worse as we settle firmly into the "AI" territory.

More lists because jesus christ.

Everyone knows Adora is She-ra. This is not a secret. The answer is every member of the Rebellion and most random citizens. 5 is equally stupid given yes, they never existin the same space at the same time, but people always watch Adora transform before their eyes. The grammar is also bad, but whatever, this does segue into the next questions.

Question six is when it becomes obvious what happened: the writer fed prompts into an AI without fact-checking anything and the AI gave back answers related both to the reboot and to the original. He-man canonically does not exist - he isn't just not mentioned for legal reasons, Mattel said he straight up could not exist or ever be hinted at (due to not existing) - in SPOP. 7 is once again completely untrue in the reboot. Adora came through a portal - not necessarily kidnapped, not from Eternia, and again, no Adam

Why is only Sunna's name in black for question 9. Mostly shocked they spelled her name right.

Things somehow manage to fall apart even more in the final remaining questions available in the Kindle preview sample!

Genuinely have no idea what the answer to 15 is supposed to be. "What is the original country of SPOP have?" isn't a sentence. All I can figure is you're supposed to pick America as it's the country of origin, but I don't trust this book to even have an answer key at the end, so who knows. All that said, Earth was canon in the original, so this might be (intended to be) related to the 80s series.

The Cure took me out.

Okay but Adora isn't leading the "Great" Rebellion!! She's definitely a major leader on the field, but the answer is Angella! There is no correct option here! If they said "the Princess Alliance" I would let that go because you could argue she is the leader of the Princesses, but the rebellion? No, that's the whole military and Angella/Glimmer lead that.

17. THE ANSWER IS ANGELLA. I fully do not believe you're supposed to pick false here, this is not a trick question, they're just wrong (see question above for evidence they're stupid)

They don't even call it the Great Rebellion in the reboot....

The sample ran out and I'm not paying money to feed this AI bullshit but I don't expect it to improve from here.

Anyway this was an interesting display of Bullshit and fuck AI generated books fr

#words and things

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rubyarrows · 8 months

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A New Perspective

I sat at the kitchen table, nursing a cup of coffee, while YN flipped through a magazine. We had been best friends for years, and now we were roommates. Our bond was unbreakable, and living together had only strengthened our connection.

As a detective in the Chicago PD, my days were filled with chaos, crime scenes, and the weight of the city's troubles. But when I returned home, I found solace in YN's presence. She was my anchor, always there to listen, support, and offer a shoulder to lean on.

Tonight, however, I had something on my mind that I couldn't shake off. Watching the sunset cast its warm glow through the windows, I took a deep breath and turned to YN. "Can you help me?"

She glanced up from her magazine, concern etched on her face. "Of course, Jay. You know I'm always here for you. What's on your mind?"

I hesitated for a moment, searching for the right words. "It's about this case I've been working on. It's been haunting me, keeping me up at night. I can't seem to find the answers I need, and it's eating me up inside."

YN placed the magazine aside, her eyes filled with empathy. "Tell me about it, Jay. Maybe I can offer a fresh perspective or help you brainstorm."

I recounted the details of the case, the missing pieces that eluded me, and the frustration that came with it. YN listened attentively, her unwavering support giving me the strength to confront my own doubts and uncertainties.

After I finished speaking, there was a brief silence as we both processed the weight of the situation. YN reached out and placed a comforting hand on mine. "Jay, you're an incredible detective. I've seen you solve countless cases, overcome obstacles that seemed impossible. Don't let this one case define your capabilities."

Her words resonated deep within me, and a spark of determination ignited in my heart. YN had a way of grounding me, reminding me of my own strength when I needed it the most. With her unwavering belief in me, I knew I could face any challenge that came my way.

"Thank you, YN," I said, my voice filled with gratitude. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

A warm smile graced her lips. "We're in this together, Jay. No matter what happens, I'll always be here to support you. We'll find a way to crack this case, I promise."

YN and I sat in our makeshift "war room," surrounded by maps, photographs, and scattered notes. With her background as a private investigator, YN had a unique set of skills that complemented my work as a detective. I knew that tapping into her expertise would be invaluable in cracking this case.

"So, YN," I began, leaning forward, "What do you think? Any ideas on where we should focus our attention?"

She studied the evidence board, her eyes scanning every detail. "Well, Jay, based on what you've told me and what I've gathered so far, it seems like this killer is targeting a specific demographic. The victims share similarities in their profiles, which suggests a pattern."

I nodded, impressed by her keen observation. "You're right. There must be a connection between them, something we're missing. We've been looking at it from an investigative standpoint, but maybe we need a fresh perspective."

YN reached for a stack of files and flipped through them, pulling out a few key documents. "I've been doing some digging on my own, cross-referencing the victims' backgrounds, social circles, and recent activities. I think it's worth exploring if they had any common acquaintances or frequented the same places."

Her words sparked a glimmer of hope within me. "That's a great lead, YN. Let's dive deeper into their personal lives and see if we can uncover any connections. Maybe someone close to them knows more than they're letting on."

Over the next few days, YN tirelessly conducted interviews, gathering information from friends, family members, and co-workers of the victims. Her natural charisma and ability to put people at ease proved invaluable in coaxing out hidden details.

As she returned from yet another interview, her eyes gleamed with excitement. "Jay, I think I may have found something. It turns out one of the victims had recently broken up with her boyfriend, but she never mentioned it to anyone. He's been acting strange since then, avoiding questions and changing his routine."

My heart raced with anticipation. "Do we have a name? Can we bring him in for questioning?"

YN nodded, handing me a file. "His name is Mark Thompson. I've already passed this information onto Intelligence, and they're running a background check. If he has a criminal history or any connections to similar cases, we might be onto something."

Sure enough, within hours, our suspicions were confirmed. Mark Thompson had a history of violent behavior and had been implicated in a similar unsolved case a few years ago. With the evidence piling up, it was time to make a move.

We gathered the team, including Intelligence and the tactical units, to plan our next steps. YN's presence in the room brought a fresh perspective, and her ability to connect the dots was invaluable to our strategy.

As we prepared to apprehend Mark Thompson, I turned to YN, gratitude filling my voice. "None of this would have been possible without you, YN. Your investigative skills have been instrumental in bringing us closer to catching this killer."

She smiled, a mix of pride and determination shining in her eyes. "We make a great team, Jay. I'm here to support you, always."

Together, we stormed Thompson's location, ensuring that justice would be served for the victims and their families. YN's expertise combined with our collective efforts brought us one step closer to closing this case.

As we wrapped up the operation, I couldn't help but feel a profound sense of gratitude for YN. Her unwavering support, dedication, and the skills she brought to the table had made all the difference. We were more than just best friends; we were a formidable force, unyielding in our pursuit of justice.

After the intense operation that led to the apprehension of Mark Thompson, YN and I returned to our apartment, both physically and emotionally drained. We collapsed onto the couch, relishing in a moment of silence.

Just as we were beginning to catch our breath, there was a knock on the door. We exchanged curious glances before I got up to answer it. To my surprise, when I swung open the door, there stood Sergeant Hank Voight, the head of Intelligence.

"Detective Halstead, YN," Voight greeted us with a nod. "May I come in?"

I stepped aside, allowing him entry, and YN quickly straightened herself, ready to face our superior. "Of course, Sergeant Voight. Please, have a seat."

Voight took a moment to observe our humble abode before settling into one of the chairs. "I wanted to personally thank you, YN," he said, his voice carrying a mix of respect and appreciation.

YN's eyes widened in surprise. "Thank me, Sergeant? But it was a team effort. We couldn't have done it without everyone's contribution."

Voight nodded, acknowledging her words. "That may be true, but your skills as a private investigator were instrumental in cracking this case wide open. You brought a fresh perspective and an invaluable set of tools to the table. Your dedication and unwavering support for Jay and the team did not go unnoticed."

YN's cheeks flushed with a mixture of pride and humility. "Thank you, Sergeant. I'm honored to have been able to assist."

Voight turned his attention to me. "Jay, it's clear that having YN by your side has had a positive impact on your work. You complement each other's strengths and make a formidable team. I expect great things from both of you."

I felt a surge of gratitude towards Voight for recognizing YN's contribution. "Thank you, Sergeant. YN has been an incredible asset, not just in this case, but in every aspect of my life. I couldn't have asked for a better partner."

Voight nodded, his expression softening. "Remember, the job we do can be tough, but having someone you trust and rely on can make all the difference. Take care of each other, because trust me, those bonds are hard to come by."

As Voight rose to leave, YN and I exchanged a knowing glance. We understood the weight of his words and the value of the connection we shared. Our friendship had evolved into something deeper, a partnership built on trust, understanding, and unwavering support.

"Thank you again, Sergeant," YN said, her voice filled with sincerity.

Voight offered a small smile before heading towards the door. "Keep up the good work, both of you. We've got a city to protect."

With that, he left, leaving YN and me with a renewed sense of purpose and determination. As we settled back onto the couch, I couldn't help but feel a profound sense of gratitude for the journey we had embarked on together.

"YN," I began, my voice filled with emotion, "I am so grateful to have you in my life. Thank you for always being there, not just as my best friend, but as my partner."

She reached out, intertwining her fingers with mine. "Jay, I feel the same way. We make an incredible team, and I wouldn't have it any other way. Together, we can face anything that comes our way."As we sat there, basking in the warmth of our shared bond, I knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, YN and I would always be there for each other, both on and off the job. Our unbreakable friendship would continue to guide us through the darkest of times, ensuring that justice would prevail.

#ruby arrows #ruby arrows imagines #chicago pd #chicago pd imagines #chicago pd x reader #chicago pd imagine #chicago pd fanfiction #jay halstead #jay halstead x reader #jay halstead imagine #jay halstead imagines #jay halstead fanfiction

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