summarize adulthood in one gif

feathersmoons:

kittydesade:

imgoingtomakeitthrough:

performeronpaper:

alleiradayne:

pixiedurango:

noseforahtwo:

red-king-4:

safetytank:

loonyloopy:

everkings:

disease-danger-darkness-silence:

rcmclachlan:

1electricpirate:

osheamobile:

ischadie:

telesilla:

thisnewdevilry:

tygermama:

nudityandnerdery:

lostinhistory:

penguinperversion:

dialmformisandry:

agayoldisappointment:

Originally posted by trxylermyqueen

Originally posted by aquaberry-sweater

Originally posted by boredumblog

Originally posted by gifsforthemasses

Originally posted by giphy

Originally posted by creampuffanatomy

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Originally posted by comedycentral

Ursprünglich gepostet von miraculous-lady-blog

Originally posted by battlestargalacticat

Skin Is Not Necessary for Sex Appeal:  The Scarlet Librarian Weighs In On Functional, Yet Attractive Armor

bikiniarmorbattledamage:

thescarletlibrarian:

First of all, this is not an argument that women’s armor in media should be the same as dudes’ armor.  Most main characters are supposed to look attractive most of the time they’re on screen; whether because of social or biological conditioning, the bulk added by armor on dudes’ chests and shoulders hottens them up.  Dudes in practical armor still meet the hotness standards they’re held to.  Women, however, genuinely are trickier to armor up without losing the hourglass figure or lean lines expected by their hotness standards.  That’s a thing.  Whatever you may think of it, it’s a thing.  And it’s not like anybody ever gets a closed-face helmet.

TRICKIER.  Not impossible, and I’m looking at you, director Patty Jenkins and costume designer Lindy Hemmings of Wonder Woman.

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Honestly, I would have just let this bullshit armor go as typical Hollywood bullshit armyr, but Jenkins made the mistake of arguing, “To me, they shouldn’t be dressed in armor like men […]It should be different. It should be authentic and real – and appealing to women.” 

Authentic and real, my functional-armored ass, and yes, I have armor for swordfighting, and yes, it’s damn well functional because I have a thing about avoiding cracked ribs and collarbones.  They hurt.  

Jenkins is open about the heels and leg exposure being wish-fulfillment, which is stupid, because you can show off muscle without showing flesh (*cough* Superman *cough* Batman *cough* every Superdude costume ever), but fine, we’ll let it go.  What I will NOT let go is the belief that this armor is functional, or that you can’t have sexy AF armor that shows no skin whatsoever, AND is entirely functional.

But, Scarlet Librarian, What Exactly is “Functional?”

Let’s be clear on this before we jump in.  There’s a lot of bits armor needs to protect, but for the purposes of this discussion, we’ll mostly be talking about breastplates, the biggest offender of Stupid Armyr Bullshit.  The point of a breastplate is to protect the squishy bits like the heart, liver, lungs…do you know how high up in the torso lungs go? 

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THAT HIGH.  The lungs are higher up than the bust stops, which is why a functional breastplate does not STOP at the breasts, it needs to cover the full torso in order to prevent getting stabbed or shot in the lung, which is frequently lethal, by the way, almost certainly in a premodern context.  Mail usually doesn’t stop an arrow, although it can reduce the damage done.  That’s what plate is for.

Any breastplate that does not protect the lungs is completely non-functional, and will not be discussed here.  We shall pretend these abominations simply do not exist.  

Also important, although less vital, are the collarbones, which I trust you can find yourself.  They’re right where many a sword swing tends to go, and yes, a piece of rebar swung at full-strength into your collarbone is going to crack if not snap it, and even mail is only going to help so much.  If you are very, very lucky, you will be so hopped up on adrenaline you won’t register the pain until after it’s no longer necessary to use both your arms to protect yourself.  You’ll still lose strength and mobility in that arm, and if you’re very, very unlucky, there will be nerve damage rendering it useless.  

Stupid Hollywood Bullshit, But Demonstrates That a Completely Armored Woman Can Still Be Sexy AF

As many people have pointed out already, cleavaged breastplates (as seen on Gal Gadot and co. as Wondwoman), which make a dip or crease in between the boobs, are not actually functional.  They’ll direct a strike, and all the force behind it, directly into the sternum, rather than deflecting it like an outwardly curved shape.  As such, the following are not entirely functional, but still cover everything without rendering the wearer a shapeless hag.

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Sonja (Rhona Mitra), Underworld:  Rise of the Lycans.  She is awarded compensation points for her excellent gauntlets, and especially for the heavy gorget protecting her neck.

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Lady Sif (Jaime Alexander) from Thor. I don’t like this aesthetically, personally, and the whole “oh, we’ll just put some stupidly-light mail over her upper chest and that will take care of the GAPING OPENING at her upper chest” is bullshit, as is having mail directly over skin with no fabric or leather beneath (you’ll have mail shaped bruises and abrasions if you take a hit there, and it’s just uncomfortable even if you don’t).  However, once more, completely covered (the mail at least covers the skin), still shapely.  

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Isabelle (Eleanor Tomlinson) in Jack and the Giant Slayer.  The cleavage here isn’t excessive (especially in comparison to Gadot and co., whose boobs are damn near mummified), but it’s enough I can’t put it in the other categories.  I also have maneuverability concerns–the pauldrons are attached at the shoulder weirdly, and the integrated turtleneck, as opposed to a separate gorget, could be problems.  How the hell do you get into this thing, anyway?  Body armor is typically a breastplate, which is attached to a matching backplate if you can afford it, not a bronze tunic thing.  Seriously, where are the openings?

Fantasy, But Included For the Sake of Argument

Stuff that, while not entirely functional, covers everything without making the wearer look a shapeless hag, or whatever these costumers are so afraid of.

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Emily Blunt as Freya in The Huntsman:  WInter’s War.  Again, no neck armor, and the neckline itself is a little low for my liking, but most of her torso is covered, along with her arms, which have both pauldrons on the shoulders and bazuband-style vambraces protecting her forearms and elbows.  The scales are really small, which won’t protect her as well as more historically-based lamellar (see below) would, but this is is probably as good as mail, and the point remains that she’s completely covered in metal and still looks damn good.  It’s also worth mentioning Freya is a scary-ass winter witch with guards around her RIDING A GODDAMN POLAR BEAR, so while this is fantasy armyr, it doesn’t have to be functional so much as look badass and sexy, and it’s doing just fine with that.  While still being more functional than a lot of hands-on-Warrior-Chick armor is.

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For sale by Armstreet, this is…okay, this is a really weird bastard child of late 16th-17th century stays and someone’s perception of Greek armor.  I wouldn’t want to wear this in any actual combat situation, since mobility is pretty restricted, and my god, please wear some pants and something with sleeves or that shit is going to chafe, but again–Female torso, fully covered, even her neck, still a very feminine look.  (And it comes with a helmet!)

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Also from Armstreet.  She has been granted, of all shocking things, clothing under her armor!  Heavens to betsy.  I’m not a huge fan of those pauldrons and the way they fit, and for this to be a wholly protective kit she’d need a chainmail coif (like a hood that also pools around the neck and upper shoulders), but we’ll roll with it, especially as the coif would cover the armor that it’s advertising here. 

Really, Not Bad

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Virginia Hankins, stuntie and performer at the Southern California Renaissance Pleasure Faire (and who thought that was a good name for it?).  This is clearly costume armor that’s never been hit in its life (she doesn’t joust, as we’ll get to later, but rides around hitting targets, which, yes, is very difficult, and how the hell she does it with that hair I’ll never know, because mine would be trying to strangle the horse, but doesn’t require impact-resistant armor).  It’s too tight-fitting to be entirely functional, because the idea here is to look badass and feminine on horseback from a distance.  Fully covered.  Still clearly woman-shaped. 

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Mia Wasikowska as Alice in Alice in Wonderland, really weird pseudo-mail sleeves that the vambrace bits are just sort of riveted to, but whatever, quite reasonable pauldrons, and even gauntlets!  

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Sans bunny.  

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Kristen Stewart as Snow White in Snow White and the Huntsman, with surprisingly better-looking mail.  It’s less girly, both in the shorter and less fluffalous skirts over the hips and thighs, the embellishments, and the overall design, but SW and the H has a weird attempt to be gritty and realistically semi-medieval thing going on (which is hilarious on multiple levels).  Honestly, they may have been going for borrowed dude armor here, but, again, completely covered, still looks fine.  (Okay, except for that hair, nobody ever looks good with their hair scraped back directly from their forehead.  That has nothing to do with the armor, the armor is fine.)

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Gwendoline Christie as Brienne of Tarth in Game of Thrones, in a padded gambeson, mail (still stupidly light, but mail), and even a helmet!  The lobstered plates coming down over her hips are too short and too narrow, but she does have something.  She can’t really be described as “shapely,” but she’s not supposed to, the point is she’s mistaken for a guy with her face hidden in the helmet anyway (nor is Gwendoline Christie the most hourglassy lady to begin with).  The design of the breastplate could very easily be altered to taper in more at the waist as well if you really wanted to girl up the look.  (Also included because a number of fighting female friends would beat the crap out of me if I didn’t, this armor is BELOVED among them.  And it really is quite schnazzy.)

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Miranda Otto as Éowyn in The Lord of the Rings, also disguised as a dude, and it’s hard to get a cuirass like this to fit really snugly when it’s over accurately-sized mail.  So while she doesn’t look all that girly here, she’s not supposed to, and again, like Brienne’s, this armor could be feminized without losing functionality.  (There is, however, NO excuse for this hair being all over the place, NO excuse whatsoever.  Tolkien SPECIFICALLY refers to her hair being braided, besides the fact that you do not, ever, want long hair around mail, because it WILL get caught and it WILL hurt; long hair worn down on your neck is really hot and sweaty and gross if you stick a metal pot on it and then run about in a very active manner; and two words, ladies and gentleman:  HELMET HAIR.  It’s real.  It’s sweaty.  It’s gross.  It’s at least a little tangly even if you braid your hair, which is what very nearly every long-haired (and by that I mean even to the shoulders) woman I know who sticks her head in a metal pot and then bounces around excitedly while wearing heavy, warm protective clothing does, because HELMET HAIR.  Would you play hockey, or roller-derby, or any other active sport that requires a helmet, with waist-length hair left to its own devices?  I’m not even talking about how it looks when you don’t have a professional team making sure you look rugged and a bit tousled but, not, you know, sweaty and gross and afflicted by HELMET HAIR.  This is just about how nasty it feels.)

Historically-Based

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Nicole Leigh Verdin in Shroud.  While cinched in at the waist to an impractical degree, it still follows the lines of the late-fifteenth-century Gothic armor I promise I’m getting to, so it still keeps EVERYTHING COVERED.

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Valentina Cervi as Caterina Sforza Riario in Borgia, set in the 1490s.  See what I mean about Brienne’s thigh protection?

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Gina McKee as Caterina Sforza Riario in The Borgias, yup, still 1490s.  Both the pauldrons and helmet are weird, but the breastplate is decent, and that’s the main culprit in bullshit female armor.

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Cate Blanchett as Elizabeth I in Elizabeth:  The Golden Age.  This armor is more than a century too early, but put her in period-accurate armor and you get…

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Helen Mirren in Elizabeth I, an HBO minseries. The costuming in this miniseries is damn near reproduction quality, and I’m happy they went with an accurate peascod shaped breastplate because I’m an accuracy geek, but nobody has ever looked good in either a peascod doublet or a breastplate shaped like one, which is why the costume team on the appealing-to-a-broad-audience-that-just-wants-to-see-Cate-Blanchett-Look-Hot-In-Armor Golden Age went all Gothic instead.  

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So this is actually a gaming mini made by Thunderbolt Mountain, designed to be 12th century Rus, including lamellar (interlocking plates) armor over mail.  This is actually pretty accurate except for some weird draping in the mail coif over her neck and head (and the fact that there’s nothing between the mail and her hair–DO NOT LET MAIL TOUCH YOUR HAIR, you will be very, very sad and possibly bald).  Lamellar, which is I what I wear for several practical reasons not all to do with the Girl Body Thing, is awesome for female armor because of how easy it is to adjust the fit as you make it, and because of its flexibility once it’s made.  My quibble here is actually that she only has a sword belt, not another belt cinched in snug around the natural waist, because that makes a HUGE difference for both men and women by getting some of the weight to settle on the hips rather than hanging off the shoulders and back.  

Actual Damn Armor

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Armorer Jeff Wasson’s wife Stacey, wearing early- to mid-15th century armor.  As armor.  Because she’s not an actress or performer, she’s a legit jouster (this is why she has the larger pauldron on the left shoulder, where she’s most likely to get hit).

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Here she lands a hit on her opponent.  This group used balsa-wood inserts in the lances that are designed to break on impact, the idea being that you get hit but don’t, you know, die (this is historically accurate; tournament lances were designed to break themselves, not break people).  That being said, you’re still being hit with a bigass stick by someone on a galloping horse; I would bet money she’s not only taken hits in that armor but also fallen off the horse in it.

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(Thomas Swynborn Dating 1412 Church of St Peter and St Paul, Little Horkesley, Essex, England.)  What dude armor from the same period as Wasson’s is based on.  The hourglass was in for guys as well as women, to the point that men’s clothing heavily padded the shoulders and chest to exaggerate it, which is what makes the 15th century a great period to base feminine-looking female armor on.

Other examples of extant (and thus made for dudes) armor that would make excellent inspiration for functional and feminine armor, JUST SAYING, PROFESSIONAL COSTUMERS, is from the late 15th century, google “gothic armor” for more:

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15th c. German,courtesy of Dr. Andrea Carloni (Rimini, Italy), AAF ID.

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1470 Leeds, UK, Royal Armouries, II.168, composite armour “alla tedesca”, breastplate formerly in Churburg, Milano and Brescia Images courtesy of Igor Zeler*, AAF ID.

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1484 – Vienna, Austria, Kunsthistorisches Museum, A 62, armour for Archduke Sigismund von Tirol, by Lorenz Helmschmid, Augsburg Front image courtesy of Blaz Berlec, AAF ID.

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No attribution, but typical of late 15th c. and holy shit, gorgeous.  Look at me, I’m a pretty, pretty badass!

In Conclusion

Armor:  Can be feminine, functional, and hot at the same damn time, without showing any skin.  And while I’m of the opinion that armor needs to look functional for the wearer to be badass, and that wearing a metal swimsuit makes the wearer look ridiculous and neither badass nor sexy, I recognize that when catering to mainstream audience, female characters frequently need to look sexy as well as functionally badass.  That’s the reality in Hollywood right now, like it or not.  I do NOT recognize that skin is necessary for this, or that bullshit fantasy armyr is, because holy shit, how hot would Lady Badass look in some of that Gothic stuff?  SMOKING hot.  All the more so because it would be completely functional.

Just saying, costume designers and denizens of the internet.  Just saying.  

Reblogging this as a follow-up to Wonder Woman movie rhetoric bingo, as @thescarletlibrarian thoroughly explains just how completely unnecessary and unhelpful those Amazon costumes are.

When creating fictional female armor, the designers can go literally anywhere on the scale between “Stupid Hollywood Bullshit” and “Actual Damn Armor” and not worry about the character losing her femininity or sex appeal, if they do their job right. All without showing an inch of randomly exposed skin. 

Things like flaunted cleavage or suspiciously uncovered thighs are a dead giveaway that whoever approved the costume just opted for “sexy” shortcuts. They really highlight that the sole priority was to convey generic “hotness”.

~Ozzie

more about armor design on BABD | more resources on BABD

So the Doctor Strange trailer is out.

fox-bright:

I’ve been having a lot of conflicted
feelings.  It’s definitely one of those situations where, yes, the
original Strange was white!  But to think about what they could have
done with this character…

So imagine.  An Asian med
student. A Chinese guy getting mocked for being one of a thousand
Chinese students, for thinking he’s going to be special. A Filipino guy
getting laughed at and told to scrub the floors because that’s all he’s
good for, doesn’t he know that he’d have to struggle to make nurse?  An Indian guy, keeping his head down and getting the work
done while people make Apu accents at him. Imagine the work he puts into
forcing his ethnicity behind him.  He stops speaking Mandarin at home.
He starts throwing his mama’s pancit in the trash when she makes him
take leftovers, instead of saving it for later.  He learns to love
hamburgers, ignoring his great-grandma’s ghost in the back of his head
and her horror at him consuming beef.

He finishes med
school, gets his residencies behind him, and he was right all along– he
is astoundingly skilled. A marvel.  Hopeless patients thrive under his
hands.  But is he going to be recognized for that? Well, I mean, he’s
Asian. He’s not special, they’re just meticulous like that. So the
recognition comes, sure, but people make jokes, even his friends, about
Surgeon Level: Asian.  And the ego and the anger build up, like nacre on
a pearl, layer after layer of contempt as he gets better and better at
his skills.  Contempt for the people around him. Contempt for the people
who made him. Contempt for the people he saves. Contempt, all of it,
for himself, for that nineteen-year-old pitching his mama’s pancit in
the garbage before going to bed.

And then the accident
happens.  And he’s an out-of-work Asian dude. No more the protection of
his title, and everyday shit–people pulling their eyes at him or making
small dick jokes, people doing racist accents and calling him any of a
thousand slurs–hurt a lot more when he can’t say I’m a doctor.
I’m above them.
Because all the work he did, he’s never going
to escape the color of his skin.

And a relative, his mom,
his auntie, seeing the darkness growing deeper and deeper in him, says
“Stephen. You need to go home for a while and get away from this.
Rest.”  And he thinks about “home.”  He’s second or third generation
American, this is his home, but the children of immigrants all know the
longing for a place where we fit. Where our eyes aren’t out of place and
our skin isn’t remarked upon, where we never have to hear “Where are
you from?”  He thinks about being five years old, his hand–broken now,
aching–small in his mother’s as she walked him down a bright street.  
He smells adobo at random, out of nowhere, another ghost calling to him.
He thinks about when things were simpler, and despite his contempt for
himself, for his mother’s people and his roots, he books a plane ticket.

And
the plane is full of people speaking the language he’s stopped speaking
to his mother, the language he was never really steady in anyway.  And
something about it is comforting, and that scares him.  Everything he
worked so  hard to be, all in threads at the sound of the young mother
five rows ahead of him singing softly in Tagalog to her little boy.

He’s
been so angry and so sick  in himself for the months since the accident
that relaxing feels wrong. But the air here smells right–the second he
steps off the plane it’s like he fills up a pair of lungs that have
been gasping for a decade. How stressful it is, to feel better and hate
yourself for feeling better.  

He walks the roads his mama
took him on thirty years ago, and they’re busier than they were, the
cars are louder, but the sameness of it all is dizzying. He checks the
paper his mother gave him, the names and the addresses, and loathing
himself he goes to an acupuncturist, to a reiki master, to practitioner
after practitioner, and he hates them. I’m a doctor,  I’m a doctor, these people are all quacks and
fucking idiots.
he thinks, but his heart is in rags and his
hands are twisted on each other like the nightmares of an arthritic, and
so he goes.

Imagine, when he finally finds the Ancient
One. Imagine that the Ancient One has his great-grandmother’s eyes, that
the language the Ancient One speaks is the one Strange learned at his
mama’s knee and threw away.  Imagine that the Ancient One–female or
male–is dark of skin, wears their traditional clothing as casually as
Strange wears a T-shirt, offers Strange a bowl of adobo and the steam rising off of it it smells just like it always did…

Imagine
Strange coming full circle, back to his roots, back to the place in
himself that he’s ignored and beaten down for all these years. Imagine
him looking at the history that belongs to him and claiming it. Imagine
him being still, yes, American. But honest to himself. No longer
fighting to be white, no longer fighting to play by the rules of white
people, recognizing that there’s power where he came from and it belongs
to him. Imagine what it it feels like, to have that sudden knowledge
opening inside your chest, to have the shame over your dark skin and
your narrow wrists and your almond eyes washed away by certainty and
confidence and a clean pride that bears no resemblance to the ego of the
master surgeon.

But no.  We’re getting fucking Cumberbatch.

And don’t even get me started on Tilda Swinton…

rob-anybody:

hazelhills:

shazampanic:

leverage season 1: let’s help a hardworking, honest young patriotic veteran w/ a disability who just wants to get back to the workforce

leverage season 3: let’s steal a federal witness and set him up for murder, fuck the courts. let’s steal the department of defense it’s not treason as long as we give it back probably. 

leverage finale: lets fucking find out every company who got a government bailout they didn’t earn after the crash and DESTROY THEM. destroy the us banking system destroy the companies let’s take on interpol to do it goddammit 

leverage if they’d gotten another season, presumably: lets travel back in time and kidnap george washington and then steal the declaration of independence and erase all eagles from existence by stealing the first ever eagle

leverage the movie:  Donald Trump is president.  Let’s go steal America.

#parker to trump at some point in the movie: “does this rag smell like chloroform to you?” (via @stardust-rain)

thatoneqprblog:

merelyimmortal:

zetsubonna:

dapperpea:

glampersand:

heroscafe:

emmmpty:

autistictesla:

pneggy:

Pretend ur invasive self hating thoughts r being said to u by a 13 y/o boy on xbox live trying to get a rise out of you like
“Your girlfriend dumped you because you’re ugly”
that’s nice tim isn’t it past ur bedtime

also, if you have intrusive violent thoughts, pretend they’re being said to u by an annoying backseat driver

“drive into that pole”
thanks karen or i could not do that

Perfect

you can also pretend that the Super Paranoid thoughts are being said by that conspiracy theorist in your history class

“maybe they poisoned you”
maybe you should fuck off, geoffrey-with-a-g

OHH MAN I DO THIS SHIT EVERY DAY

My favorite for intrusive anxious thoughts is to pretend Spock’s behind you with an answer.

“did I lock the door-”

captain you have locked the door every day for over ten years, and it is very hard for most people to break even subconscious habits, so you most definitely locked the door

I told my new psychiatrist about how I learned this from y’all and his eyes lit up. He didn’t smile but he did nod a whole bunch of times, it was great.

I like to pretend that my intrusive thoughts are being said to me by a super uptight religious white lady

“god hates you because you don’t believe in him”
“your failures are too great to be forgiven by anyone”
“everything you do is wrong and you are going to burn in hell”

thanks for the input brenda but fuck right off

I would just like to say that I love you all for this idea.

sodiumflare:

dictacontrion:

pottergerms:

sliceosunshine:

fanfichasruinedmylife:

pagerunner-j:

demonicae:

tiger-in-the-flightdeck:

racethewind10:

emma-regina4ever:

beckpoppins:

adiwriting:

fandomlife-universe:

So I’m on AO3 and I see a lot of people who put “I do not own [insert fandom here]” before their story.

Like, I came on this site to read FAN fiction. This is a FAN fiction site. I’m fully aware that you don’t own the fandom or the characters. That’s why it’s called FAN FICTION.

Oh you youngins… How quickly they forget.

Back in the day, before fan fiction was mainstream and even encouraged by creators… This was your “please don’t sue me, I’m poor and just here for a good time” plea.

Cause guess what? That shit used to happen.

how soon they forget ann rice’s lawyers.

What happened with her lawyers.

History became legend. Legend became myth….  And some things that should not have been forgotten were lost.

I worked with one of the women that got contacted by Rice’s lawyers. Scared the hell out of her and she never touched fandom again.
The first time I saw a commission post on tumblr for fanart, I was shocked.

One of the reasons I fell out of love with her writing was her treatment of the fans… (that and the opening chapter of Lasher gave me such heebie-jeebies with the whole underage sex thing I felt unclean just reading it.)

I have zero problem with fanart/fic so long as the creators aren’t making money off of it. It is someone else’s intellectual property and people who create fan related works need to respect that (and a solid 98% of them do.)

The remaining 2% are either easily swayed by being gently prompted to not cash in on someone else’s IP. Or they DGAF… and they are the ones who will eventually land themselves in hot water. Either way: this isn’t much of an excuse to persecute your entire fanbase.

But Anne Rice went off the deep end with this stuff by actively attacking people who were expressing their love for her work and were not profiteering from it.

The Vampire Chronicles was a dangerous fandom to be in back in the day. Most of the works I read/saw were hidden away in the dark recesses of the internet and covered by disclaimers (a lot of them reading like thoroughly researched legal documents.)

And woe betide anyone who was into shipping anyone with ANYONE in that fandom. You were most at risk, it seemed, if your vision of the characters deviated from the creators ‘original intentions.’ (Hypocritical of a woman who made most of her living writing erotica.)

Imagine getting sued over a headcanon…

Put simply: we all lived in fear of her team of highly paid lawyers descending from the heavens and taking us to court over a slashfic less than 500 words long.

all

of

this

Reblogging because I can’t believe there are people out there who don’t know the story behind fan fiction disclaimers. 

#certain websites even had a ‘disclaimer’ section you had to fill in or you couldn’t post your work#we all lived in dread of making so much as a typo in our disclaimers#just in case that somehow voided them and the lawyers would emerge from the shadows and drag us to the pits of hell (via @touchyourblood)

Yeah, back in the old days we were all afraid of being sued, especially since the whole ~internet fandom~ thing was fairly new and we didn’t have copyright laws for online content. We didn’t have social media to make discussing your favourite thing such a common occurrence that the limit to how much you can engage with it would be stretched.

That whole Anne Rice business was freaking scary for any fanfic writer, because it could be the end for all of us. But well, we’re still here, so fuck you, Anne Rice (don’t sue me).

Nowadays, unless you’re making money, it’s impossible to lose if an author is stupid enough to sue you over fan work. I don’t write disclaimers anymore, it’s sort of unnecessary.

(And btw, no disclaimer would protect us if they decided we were trespassing copyright laws. Luckily that didn’t happen.)

Also worth mentioning:

– Copyright stuff is part of what the OTW (aka the Organization for Transformative Works, aka AO3′s parent org) does. OTW: making fic-reading non-profit and easier on the eyeballs AND making fandom a safer environment for creators.

– There’s a great discussion if this stuff on Episode 4 of @fansplaining, Buncha Lawyers. (Also on itunes) – fair use, copyright, the history of this stuff. Very much worth checking it out!!

Remember the days of triumphant “Ron Moore said I could”? That was fucking revolutionary.