➡️ Not every medium of fiction and storytelling has or is expected to have content warnings or extensive tagging.
➡️ Print novels do not traditionally warn for content in any way.
➡️ Until AO3 came along, fanfiction did not traditionally warn for content in any significant way.
➡️ An author is only obligated to warn for content to the degree mandated by the format they publish their fiction on.
➡️ Content warnings beyond the minimum are a courtesy, not an obligation.
➡️ ‘Creator chose not to warn’ is a valid tag that authors are allowed to use on AO3. It means there could be anything in there and you have accepted the risk. ‘May contain peanuts!’
➡️ Writers are allowed to use ‘Creator chose not to warn’ for any reason, including to maintain surprise and avoid spoilers.
➡️ ‘Creator chose not to warn’ is not the same thing as ‘no archive warnings apply’.
➡️ It is your responsibility to protect yourself and close a book, or hit the back button if you find something in fiction that you’re reading that upsets you.
➡️ You are responsible for protecting yourself from fiction that causes you discomfort.
Man was walking past the bathroom when he sees the supplies on the sink, slowly turning to see the ever faithful dye shirt you wear.
There's at least two boxes on the counter, bleach and another color, and he can't help but chuckle, "Didn't you color it a month ago?"
You nod, trying to slowly close the door with your foot, and the Colonel stops it, stepping in behind you. He's still laughing as he picks up the box of color.
He makes fun of the woman on the front of the box, teasingly saying it didn't match her completion, yet he stays for a minute or two, always finding the stupid ways you make things work amusing.
You start on the bleach and he wanders off to another room of the house/apartment, and once you're done, and waiting for the bleach to set in, he checks up on you, bursting out laughing as the halfway done bleach makes you look like a carrot. Even as you throw the empty box at him, he's still laughing, teasing you for your bad aim as the box hit the wall.
Once the bleach is done and your hair is the perfect canvas to put the other dye on, he's back in the bathroom, helping you put the new color in, the color gloves too small for his big hands, having bought separate gloves for himself to help.
He looks at his handiwork when he's done, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder, complementing the color on you.
When your hair is done, and you're laying on the bed together as the night ends, his fingers trail through the freshly dyed hair, it feeling soft on his rough fingers just like the last few times it was dyed.
It's days like this between the Colonel's missions and the times spent on base he enjoys, the close connections that make each goodbye worth coming back home to.
Storms from space are so nice.... also NASA has a constant livestream from the International Space Station, one facing Earth and one facing like this. It also lets you know when it's right overhead. I think it's called iss live now.
A universe in motion seen from the International Space Station during a night pass over Earth.
(@ wonderofscience on Twitter)
Timelapse created from images courtesy of the Earth Science and Remote Sensing Unit, NASA Johnson Space Center(ISS061-E-110520-111341 eol.jsc.nasa.gov).
If we really want to fight against this puritanical culture that seems to be hell-bent on running sex workers off the internet and banning pornography wherever they can find it, you have a moral duty to post hole on main. Doesn't have to be your own hole but you got to post it.
Nothing beats having a supervisor that just found out you're learning Latin in school only to teach you the insults and curses they themselves learned in high school.