#fuck tumblr in particular for giving me an error message unless i used their ''new improved'' post editior which i hate

[hipsofsteel]

69 for ColCa, 21 for Rusty & Kitty and 5 for Chris & Evelyn :]

Well, my beloved, either you picked awful numbers, or I have awful taste in music (unlikely for the Cyrano soundtrack features heavily on my Wrapped this year), because #69 is Mongolian rock music, #21 actually will work for that ship but not in a fun way, and #5 is the song I use to try to calm down my dog whenever the concept of wind gives her anxiety.

Anyhow, everyone whose old enough to remember when this was a Hetalia state OC blog, watch me return to my embarrassing ways.

Also, my most beautiful dearest... Tumblr has FUCKED their post editing and I really despise doing THREE of these fuckers in ONE ask. Goddamn NIGHTMARE post.

This ask is in reply to

#69, Carson and Roberto

"I'll pick #69 for the horniest characters," Katie thought. "Surely the funny number will correspond with a song that's worthy of the number." And then Jess looked at her playlist and found Mongolian rock music. Which was good music, but FREAKING HARD to adapt for these characters.

Absolutely no warnings for this, but the others will feature content warnings of a sort.

*

"What on earth are you listening too?" Carson asked as Roberto was at his desk in the living room, editing a movie script and actually wearing his reading glasses for once.

"Music." Roberto answered, chewing on the end of his pen. A habit he'd developed when he quit smoking.

"I can tell that." Carson deposited the decaf coffee next to his significant other, before taking a sip from his bottle of beer. "But where the heck is it from?"

"Mongolia." Roberto answered. "Bev sent me the album, said 'it fucks severely'. And she was right, it does."

Carson bit back a chuckle. "Of course she did. Is that script even set in Asia?"

"The vibes I need to edit does not have to match the vibes of the screenplay."

"Doesn't answer my question."

Roberto doesn't even glance at him, making a few quick edits and then frowning at something. Carson could have sworn he heard Roberto mutter well that's just a little too cliche for me even as he scribbled something out. Carson just watched him work, and sighed, settling down on the couch with his beer. Roberto's dogs were already fast asleep in their beds.

In a little while, he'd drag him off to bed. But for now, he'd just listen to this music with Roberto, and wonder if that script was set anywhere near Mongolia.

*

#21, Rusty and Kitty

Well. Sure this won't be sad/dark/SOMETHING EMOTIONAL.

Quick Author's note: This is set sometime in the late 1800s, North Carolina, and contains some allusions period typical racial violence. However, the characters, being capable of resurrection, do more violence in revenge. So you're warned in advance.

*

The problems always began when the area they'd managed to eek away a safe place to live in became too settled. When more people came, and asked questions about why a black woman and a white man were living together. Of course, Rusty knew that if the situation were reversed, it would be far worse. But still...

Here he and Kitty were, resurrecting in the ashes of their burned cabin. It wasn't the first time, and it wouldn't be the last. Slowly, he got up, and went looking for their stash.

The spare clothes, food and water, and the weapons were out by the time Kitty stirred. Rusty helped her clean up and get dressed before he worried too much about himself. But once they were both done, they looked at each other with tired eyes.

When they'd come home after re-admittance to the Union, they'd both prayed things would get better. But as Reconstruction had faded away, they'd watched it all go to hell again. Rusty didn't even have to ask Kitty, tossing her a fully loaded pistol and a rifle with a bayonet already affixed.

They didn't speak. No banter of Yellowhammer or Tar Heel. Kitty simply crested the slight hill to look down on the town, and when Rusty joined her, she pointed out the houses of each of the men who'd burned down their home. Tired green eyes met exhausted brown ones, and they sat down, recovering and waiting.

And when night had fallen again, when the town was silent and still with sleep, they went down.

They stayed at each other's backs as they broke down doors and walked into bedrooms. As they shot their way through men who had shot them. They only killed the ones who'd been involved, leaving the others in each family behind.

And in the morning, they were somewhere in the mountains, sitting on stolen horses, and nursing cups of coffee with reloaded pistols.

Others in the north could preach about peace. Of a house divided reuniting. But the North, the Union, had abandoned them.

Alabama took North Carolina's hand as she walked them further south. They'd take shelter in Ashton's home for a while. South Carolina would have probably have heard of the murders by the time they got there, but he wouldn't turn out his sister, or Rusty. He'd frown, and quietly let them in.

Violence answered violence. And as long as justice was not served in this country, Rusty and Kitty, along with all the other states, would have blood on their names.

*

#5, Chris and Evelyn

Not much to work with from a calming, instrumental piece, so I used the title more as the prompt than anything else.

Quick Author's notes: Nothing too serious in this one, but there are some musings on death, so be warned.

*

They're sitting on the porch of Christopher's home in Wallowa county as the last light of the summer day fades into the night. The insects are singing, and the wind is whispering all around them. Both have Pendleton blankets across their laps, just existing in a peaceful silence.

And then, Chris speaks.

"How do you think it'll be when we die a permanent death? Do you think it'll be violent? Or will we just go to sleep? And- will we leave behind any signs we lived at all?"

Evelyn blinks, startled out of her silent reverie. "Well. How long have you been sitting on that one?"

"A bit." Chris admits, looking out at his horses. "I guess it's mostly in the abstract, but the succession movements always bring it to mind."

Ah, this was about Greater Idaho. Fifty years ago, it was about the State of Jefferson. Ten years ago, it was about Cascadia. Chris and Beverly constantly remembering that if they became too fractured, one or both of them might fall.

"Maybe it'll be violent. But I think we'll just- just disappear." She looked towards the softly colored sky, still clothed in dusk rather than night. "People will know we existed. We'll leave behind some sort of legacy."

Chris looked doubtful on that. She knew why. He'd watched languages and people die, while the conquerors tried to pretend they'd never existed at all. She took his hand.

"If something happened to you, and I was still around, I'd make sure you were remembered. Adam would. Clark would. We all would. I promise you won't just disappear.

He nodded, giving her a grateful look without looking directly at her. As their hands fell apart from each other, she heard him whisper.

"I'd do the same if anything happened to you."

#aph california #aph colorado #aph north carolina #aph alabama #aph oregon #aph kansas #oc roberto #oc carson #oc kitty #oc rusty #oc chris #oc evelyn #ask hipsofsteel #my fic #fuck tumblr in particular for giving me an error message unless i used their ''new improved'' post editior which i hate

[mf-fairy-princess]

Problematic and Proud: Instagram Artist Beebosloth

Alright, I tried posting this to Reddit but that whole website is fucked so. Tumblr is crazy toxic and I want absolutely nothing to do with this website lmao, I just know if it’s posted here, it will show up in google search results. 

Alright, so there's this artist on Instagram. Nothing new and unique there. In fact, there isn't really anything special about this particular prick at all. Rather, he more-so represents a larger cancerous growth within Instagram; entitlement, and toxicity.

I know, I know, "Hey dumbass, that's the entirety of the internet." Yeah, you're damn right it is. Does that make it any less gross? Any less pathetic? These humans are still humans, they know what they're doing.

So what exactly is Beebosloth? Unless you've come here from googling the name followed by some key-word synonyms of "problematic," you're probably unfamiliar with his presence on earth. @Beebosloth (Stan Osipov) is a pretty general artist on Instagram, pumping out at least one sketch a day; his works are namely skeletal, usually black and white, usually accompanied with an odd little strip of slogan text which rarely fits the image subject. People have gotten his works tattooed, he's almost up to 300k followers now, etc etc, he's doing alright for himself.

If there's one thing that millennials and gen-Z kids' insane internet vigilante rampages have taught us, it's that successful people can be, and often are, problematic as all hell. Beebosloth is no exception.

I had been following the artist for close to 3 years, giving him general support through likes on his posts, but also going an extra mile in standing up for him for 2 problems he had been facing repeatedly as an artist. First, due to the general popular aesthetic of his art, his works were getting reposted a lot, often without credit. There would even be imitation accounts which would post nothing but his art, essentially pretending to be him. I repeatedly took it upon myself to give them the ol' trollish finger wag, in an unlikely hope they'd better their behavior or at least let passersby know who the real artist was.

Another problem he was facing was Instagram support; (Ooh what a surprise, when has that ever happened to anyone)? The way he went on about it had us all believing that Instagram would never punish those who committed these unethical acts. And that was the entirety of the problem at first; not punishing other people who had done him wrong. He made several posts and stories complaining about this, usually enticing his followers to go out and do his bidding in this regard. Then . . there was an incident, and the first instance that really alerted me to Beebosloth's behavior.

This is a man who spends half his posts whining because he refuses to learn how internet-related copyright laws work. Even though with the sheer amount of trials and failures he's experienced, he should be an expert on them by now. A dude who claims every 5 seconds that he's getting his work stolen . . . which is why this next part is such a kicker.

I wish I could remember the time exactly, (but unfortunately I'm not pursuing a degree in problematic Instagram artists, and these details have just really just slipped my mind). It was March; I believe of this year. I scrolled through Instagram like normal, came upon a new post by beebosloth, and noticed that this one had about twice the typical amount of attention attached to it. Osipov had posted a doodle of a skeleton arm, holding up a ticket which read "1 WAY TICKET TO HELL." Pretty simple, pretty basic. And the next picture on the slide was the exact same thing, only this time, it wasn't in his style. I believe he also included screenshots of an incredibly petty argument between him and the other artist, in which she accused him of stealing the design from her. - In the caption he's ranting, he's raving, Instagram copyrighted his version and removed it. He does something else too . . . .

Now, these images are the exact damn same, I wish I could find her original work but it has really just disappeared. After what Stan Osipov does next, it wouldn't really surprise me if she deleted her Instagram to cut out the toxicity of this whole situation. And here's the most important part to consider of all of this; not beeblosloth's cruel, immature, reaction, not his history of sending his followers to spend their own personal time being terrible to other users on his behalf, this-

The artist who claimed Osipov had stolen her work- posted it first. Actually I believe she posted it a few weeks before beeblosloth ever did. And keep in mind- the only feasible difference between these two photos is the art style. They are exact same in every possible detail. Now, unfortunately, at the time I was a member of beebosloth's cult following. I really made up any possible excuse to believe that somehow, regardless of how impossible and ridiculous it would be, this girl was lying about beebosloth just ripping her off majorly. Even though- she kept the matter private, between themselves. Beebosloth was the one who posted their screenshots, made this a "let's get everyone involved and invoke the wrath of my followers" thing.

In the caption, (or maybe in a new post), Beebosloth then goes on to beckon everyone to draw this image, he starts a #drawthisinyourstyle challenge. He also, of course, incites his followers to go send hate the the original artist. I will admit I stupidly wanted to believe beebosloth was the original artist, and maybe there was some justification to him posting the screenshots, but that part, I didn't like. That was totally unnecessary, even if he was somehow telling the truth.Can we just step back and assess how insane this situation is?

Osipov casually rips off another artist

He gets caught, called out in private, and the image is removed

He reposts his imitation image, as well as the original one, the original artist's details, the screenshots from their private conversation; he tells his followers to go send hate to the original artist because she hurt his feelings by calling him out.

He starts a competition encouraging everyone to rip off her image in their own style. In turn getting dozens of results, making a considerable chunk of the Instagram art scene focus all negative attention on the original artist. "Well if I can't have it, I guess everyone can." (It's almost impossible to find left over images of the challenge, but I remember there being dozens upon dozens of submissions. I will post one I managed to find, as well as the original rip-off by beebosloth.)

And me and his other followers were totally blind to this insane, ridiculous, behavior. I find that all of my red flags that make me dislike people and their actions boil down to a very simple act: Being shitty to another human when they're not doing anything harmful. That's exactly what Osipov was doing here, and I just kind of let him convince me she was the perpetrator.

-- The remainder is an explanation of why I personally snapped out of this and realized he is just a really sleezy dude, it gets a bit petty, read at your own discretion. --

I kept following him after this for months, sending likes to those stolen general commercial T-shirt slogans slapped on a sketch of skeletons doing basic little things. And then one day a few weeks ago, an image crawled across my feed whose incredibly vague message just didn't sit right with me. The image, as you should be able to see here (if I've successfully posted it), contains a scene of someone trying to post something on instagram, and there is an error message which reads "Oops, nobody gives a shit about you or your selfies. Post anyways?"

First reaction: YIKES, who has Stanny got a vendetta against today? The username of the poster was "dumb bitch" to boot. I honestly couldn't tell if he was attempting to shame someone specific, people who just enjoy posting their selfies, women on Instagram, the message was so unclear and the caption wasn't a help to say the least. Actually the caption was . . . The only possible relation the caption could have had to the art itself, was . . . no actually I really can't find a damn thing to relate the two. It had the same weird aggressive energy as the image, but it was essentially an uncomfortable and unwanted pep-talk? No . . . what in the fresh hell would you call that caption?

Anyways, I just assumed the caption didn't really have a direct relation to the art image, as that was something he'd done before and is pretty typical on Instagram. But I still had a problem with the message of the image itself; essentially teaching people to feel bad about posting their selfies, and holding some sense of superiority to those who dare share an image of their face every so often. How incredibly boring, and my reaction posted in the images explains why this personally pissed me off. And if there I talk like someone complaining in an Instagram comment section, well . . . I wonder why.

His reaction - Oh man his reaction, you could not have killed someone's loyalty to you faster if you used their pet in your omelet. I mentioned how I was confused at the caption in the end of what I was saying, and I guess that's the part that offended him?! I haven't a clue how, but he starts in: "The fact that you don't understand leads me to believe that you are still very lost."

. . . . WHAT?! bahahaha! Where the hell did that come from?! My mouth fell agape. First of all, I didn't understand his caption for the shear fact that it was vague and unrelated to the image. Secondly, beebolsoth, where in the shit did I say anything about being lost and remind me when I paid you to be my psychiatrist.  He goes on in this ridiculous narcissistic tone, making totally wild claims as if he's known me my whole life and can speak to my personal character, and my mental state. What a creep. Is he playing The Rewired Soul here? I didn't know, I didn't particularly care. The mild entertainment I received from viewing his images wasn't worth being talked to like I've just told freaking Sigmund Freud I don't like the taste of lima beans. After receiving some darling, and for some reason, racist hate from his cult followers, I unfollowed him.

But really, isn't that just one of the cringiest feelings out there? Realizing you've been doing back-flips for someone who would treat you like absolute dirt just for the fun of it? Well, now this experience is documented. Hopefully the true original artist of the "One way ticket to hell" piece is doing alright. And the next time Osipov does something weird and horrible, people can come here, and know it definitely wasn't the first time.

#beebosloth #artist #instagram #problematic #long post #screenshots