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#and while there are many places in this fandom that are receptive to that. i am not really one of them.

1shirt2shirtredshirtdeadshirt · 1 year

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Today on popping the corn and feeding the children, what do you folks think of this discussion? :)

I'm always curious to hear what other Trek fans, especially queer Trek fans, think about our place in Trek history and how we fare as the queer participants within our fandom. What have your experiences been like?

Overwhelmingly I've found a great reception and a welcoming attitude, but I admit that has increased considerably since the 90s. However, there are still some Trek fans who seem to be vehemently in denial about queer history in Star Trek, or the fact that anyone who has worked on Trek has pro-LGBT attitudes. This always surprises me considering some of the blatant queer content we have already seen in Star Trek such as the Jadzia Dax and Lenara Kahn kiss.

Anyway, I enjoyed the discussion that followed and seeing the overwhelming outpouring of support coming from Star Trek fans in response to this thread.

Here was my two cents contribution:

"No, what they said was factual.

Have you forgotten Nichelle Nichols was indeed an African American woman in the core seven bridge crew back in 1966?

Or the fact that Gene Roddenberry went out of his way to write The Motion Picture Novel, creating the term "T'hy'la: friend, brother, lover" so that fans could choose which interpretations of Kirk and Spock they saw fit? He also embraced K/S fans and hired a number of them to write the earliest Star Trek novels, including the very first official one (The New Voyages Vol. 1 & 2) which included slash fiction as well as Gene's approval/forward in the books.

In case anyone has forgotten, here's a little bit of background on Gene Roddenberry and his perspectives on queerness in Star Trek.

He admitted that in his early life he was very affected by how society and culture treated the LGBT community, and that he too found himself subjugating and judging others for that lifestyle because it was what people did at that time. As he got older and had more life experience, he began working with a number of queer artists in Hollywood -- and through TOS, a number of queer individuals began asking questions about Kirk and Spock.

Instead of vehemently shutting down this perspective, Roddenberry was intrigued, and saw potential to tap into a large audience (LGBT) that most others didn't want to go near or acknowledge publicity-wise. He saw it as an opportunity to expand the fanbase while also pushing yet another envelope.

But with the heat already on the show for what they'd already pushed, he found he was often stuck between what he'd like to do and what production would let him get away with. There are a number of Kirk and Spock scenes in scripts that got cut out for leaning a little too obviously romantic. Tiny trickles of that content still made it in were infamous moments like the backrub scene in Shore Leave. Even the 2009 movie had a K/S moment while Spock Prime and Kelvin Spock talked that was written and filmed that was cut out of the final product.

Queer subtext and coding has always been relentlessly weeded away at with an excuse ready to go for why they always try to cut us out, but we all know it's because they are scared of the homophobic backlash and ratings hits. Look how violently homophobes went after the gay romance episode of The Last of Us **just this year**. This has always been our reality, so for someone like Roddenberry to make efforts in the 70s? That was massive.

But Gene as well as the queer/slash Trek community managed to accomplish some things in the 70s which I'm surprised more folks don't talk about or give much credit.

In the same TMP novel which features "T'hy'la" and the famous footnote, Gene cleverly wrote Kirk with a bisexual/pansexual lens: Kirk describes himself as *preferring* women but being open to "physical love in **any** of its many Earthly, alien, and mixed forms." (Direct quote from Genes book). Basically, Captain Kirk was DTF with whoever if there was a connection, which was a very progressive take for a character in a novel written in 1979, but made sense for the future which would have a lot less hang ups about sex and love compared to our current rather puritan/conservative society.

I also prefer women, but I married a man. Shout out to Gene Roddenberry for giving us a seat at the table back in the 70's when folks *still* try to insist there is no place for K/S or queer concepts in Trek, because he made efforts -- however small -- to employ queer people and show queer perspectives. According to David Gerrold, LGBT+ representation was a big thing that Gene personally pushed for in TNG and wanted various depictions of love/couples in the Risa scenes, to name one example.

In the 70s, fanzines led to meetings and swapped fanmade magazines, which got so big that they needed hotel centers, then convention centers, then one day the TOS cast came to one and what we know as modern fan conventions were born -- inspiring even George Lucas who attended Trek conventions in the 70s and saw how popular Trek was in syndication; it was a great climate to launch his Space Opera. Star Wars then became so huge that we got TMP.

But none of that would have happened without the level of organization, passion, and creativity that those fans poured into Star Trek and their characters after it got cancelled and went into syndication.

Without queer folks we wouldn't have George Takei, Theodore Sturgeon who gave us Tribbles, Bill Theiss and his amazing TOS costumes, Mike Minor's art direction, Merritt Butrick, David Gerrold (writer for TOS, TAS, TNG) to name a few of many queer contributors to Trek that Roddenberry respected and tried to go to bat for wherever he could in a climate that was absolutely impossible to gain an inch in.

At a time during the 70s and 80s when so many people resented and feared the queer community and wanted us to disappear, especially in the 80s during the AIDS epidemic which many homophobes claimed was "God's punishment to the gay community" or "Gods's answer" to our "hedonism", thinking we'd gotten our just desserts and should just disappear . . .

During that time, Gene Roddenberry gave us queer folks a place to say: "You know what? Sure. Write your stories. TV says you guys shouldn't exist, they pull books with queer people off the shelves and burn them. Laws exist specifically to forbid you guys from loving each other, and call you mentally ill. You can't even hold hands in public. But I'm going to validate you guys and invite you to write novels or work for me, try to see what we can get by production, and allow you to see yourselves in my characters if you want to. There's a place for you in our fandom."

He gave us bi/pan Kirk, he gave us K/S is open to interpretation. In Phase 2 Kirk's surviving nephew Peter, son of his brother Sam from Operation: Annihilate!, was going to be written as gay and living on the Enterprise with his partner -- that also got chopped and reworked into a script that wouldn't get used until decades later. That was huge at a time that being queer was officially listed as a mental illness, and villainized due to the AIDS crisis.

So before you try to dismiss or tell K/S + queer Trek fans whether or not they deserve a seat at the table, remember that Gene Roddenberry was among the **first** to pull that seat out for us in a climate that was ruthlessly against LGBT+ folks." -- 1Shirt2ShirtRedShirtDeadShirt

P.S: Have some cute bisexual/pansexual K/S pride gifs. :) Pride month is a hop, skip and a jump away.

LLAP!🖖💚

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mirnilop · 9 months

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𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝑜𝓁𝑒 𝒹𝑒𝓋𝒾𝓁 𝒸𝒶𝓁𝓁𝑒𝒹 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 ˚₊·͟͟͟͟͟͟͞͞͞͞͞͞➳❥ wally darling

⚠ tags: sfw, mob au, yandere!wally, gn!singer!reader, power imbalance, discussions of violence

♡ synopsis: you’d be surprised how many fans you accrue as a small-time lounge singer. while this is usually a good thing, one of yours happens to rule half the city, so he isn’t exactly receptive to the word “no”.

♡ word count: 5,310

⛧ﾐ‧*･ﾟ the following content may be triggering to some. please proceed with caution! ･ﾟ*‧ミ⛧

a/n: hello!! ₍ᐢ.ˬ.⑅ᐢ₎ goshh, my very first post on this acc!! i haven’t posted fanfic in a hot minute but i’m suuuper excited to get back into it!! 💞 i have sooo many wips for this fandom, it was difficult to choose which one to finish first! credit to @/clownsuu for creating the au and for the lovely art!! i tweaked the concept a wee bit so that it takes place in a roger rabbit-esque world where puppets and humans live together unharmoniously (with a jessica rabbit inspired reader ofc >v>). it was a lot of fun trying to marry wally's canon personality with a Scary Mob Boss (*´ 艸`) i can't wait to post more!! what are y'all's favourite aus? let me know!! ･*･:≡(　ε:)

There’s a rose on your vanity.

The sight of it snuffs out your high spirits, irritation igniting in its place– and it was such a good day, too! You and the girls were perfectly in sync for your entire performance, bolstered by the unusually affable audience; you even rewarded them with a sneak peek of new material, which made them go wild!

Dreams of stomping it beneath your heel stew in your head as you drop it in the faience vase at the rim of the mirror, where a crinkled, beige-tipped rose droops against the rim. Why not break the vase too? An idea that’s crossed your mind too many times, and while it gets harder to resist with each flower, you endure it. They’re presents, after all, and you doubt your admirer would take kindly to the news that you’ve trashed them. You’re certain one of his minions would obtain the evidence, if not witness you do it; you can’t pinpoint the extent to which they survey you, but the crawling sensation of eyes on your back crops up often, and obviously they have no problem barging into your dressing room to play delivery service.

Sighing, you comb through your rolling rack to pick a suitable outfit to change into. Most of the articles hanging are also gifts, but you’ve made sure to keep some of your own hard-earned clothes here out of sheer spite. A burgundy cashmere number has just slipped into your grasp when the door bursts open.

“How’s that for a show?! And what a great crowd, a whole buncha dolls! Or– well, puppets– and humans! Hahaha!”

Lottie skips in with her usual energy, the bell on her collar jingling alongside the clack of her Mary Janes. You hate that their manager mandates the bells as a part of their costumes, as if puppets being treated like second-class citizens wasn’t enough. “You wanna make money or not? It’s part of the appeal! You know, Mary Had A Little Lamb and all that!” is what he told you after one of your countless tirades regarding his treatment of them, but the sleazy smirk wrapped around his cheap cigarette allowed you to read between the lines. As much as you despise that man, it’s not your business to judge the trio for staying contracted with him. Mottie’s recalled to you how difficult it was to hire a manager at all, and you suppose you have to (begrudgingly) thank him for bringing them into your life, since he’s the one who bagged them the backup singer gig.

A swell of color in your peripheral lets you know that she’s come near, but you don’t bother diverting attention from your search. This is such a common occurrence between you two that pleasantries are no longer required.

“And they were mighty generous with the tips! So me and the gals was thinking we should go somewhere to… celebrate…”

Hearing her trail off, you turn to find her staring at the new rose, her once-perky ears fallen limp. You click your tongue, remorse prickling your heart, though you’ve done nothing wrong.

“I’ll be alright, Lottie. Here,” You grab a wad of bills from your personal tip jar and fold them into her hand. “You take your sisters somewhere nice, my treat. As an apology for having to skip out tonight.”

When she doesn’t move from her spot, merely pouting at you with big, glistening eyes full of concern, you swaddle her in a hug. Fleecy strands of shell pink hair tickle your nose as she nestles her snout into your shoulder, squeezing you like a lifebuoy. Having her in your arms is a vital reminder as to why you continue to put up with everything. Lottie, Dottie and Mottie are your beloved friends– your family when you had none– and you are willing to do whatever is necessary to build a life with them.

“Are ya sure?”

“Positive. And if that bug gives you even a whiff of trouble, you come get me right away, got it?”

She laughs, the sound a balm to the ache of your worries. “He never gives us any trouble– n’fact, I haven’t heard ‘im say a single word!”

“Good. At least one of them has manners. Now go have fun!”

After a few more hugs and a promise to relay your apology to her sisters, she trots towards the entrance. Halfway through it, she pauses.

“Promise ya’ll play nice?”

An involuntary grimace twists your face, which you smooth immediately.

“I was planning on it,” you concede, earning an exhale of relief from Lottie.

“Thanks. Honestly, I’m kinda worried...” She leans against the doorframe, gaze trained on the checkered floor. “I see more and more of that Napoleon-wannabe’s goons lately. Do ya think he’s gettin’ antsy? It’s been real quiet since that incident with Dorelaine.”

Ah, the incident. It happened a handful of months ago; he refused to go into specifics, but what you’ve gathered from his gnomic recount and various news stories is that their rival organization– led by Ronald Dorelaine, a human man– planted explosives somewhere important, racking up thousands in damages and dismembering several puppets, left to be mended with those horrific stitches. You didn’t receive another rose until several weeks afterwards.

“I can’t be sure,” you admit. “He doesn’t tell me much about the goings-on of the ‘family’, not that I care to know. But I noticed he’s been more wound up lately… maybe they’re going to retaliate?”

A visible shudder travels through Lottie, and she tosses her head as if to ward off the gravity of your predicament. It was easier to ignore the implications when there wasn’t an active turf battle.

“You’re right, we should stay as far as we can from that nasty business. Wear the red, then. To butter ‘im up a little.” She offers you a conflicted half-smile, most likely holding herself back from proposing a makeover, before sidling out the door.

Glowering, you follow the advice, shucking your tight, shimmering stage outfit for the cozy cashmere you were eyeing before. Like I need to be reminded of his favorite color. I’ve practically lived in red since I met him. It inexplicably fits like a glove, as do all of the clothes you've been bestowed; for the sake of your sanity, you prevent yourself from delving too far into that subject.

As you fix the little bits of your appearance that got mussed up during your performance, you can’t help but contemplate hiding in your room until morning, even though you know it wouldn’t work– and you’d have to pay for a broken front door. Once every speck of lint has been removed and your ensemble is flawless, you steel your resolve with a hard look in the mirror. If things go south, at least you’ll make a gorgeous open casket.

You step into your shoes and out of the dressing room, swiping your bag and a matching hat from the plethora that dangle on knobs affixed to the wall along the way. The haze that eternally permeates the lounge envelops you as you walk, no longer springing tears to your eyes like it did so long ago, when you were a starry-eyed fledgling. Upon entering the foyer, you call out to the owner, Gene, who’s counting the register behind the bar.

“Hey, I’m heading out!”

“Geez, you’re in a hurry! Got a hot date or what?”

“Something like that,” you breathe, your nerves relighting tenfold now that you’re so close to the outside.

“Ahh, I getcha.” His amusement is clear, construing an innuendo within your words that is absolutely not there, but you’d rather die than clarify. “You did a great job today, you deserve it!”

Somehow, your admirer has managed to limbo directly under Gene’s nose; thus far he’s made no indication that he’s aware he has a very important patron. For a moment, you observe him, and see how he absentmindedly rubs the pocket of his button-up– where a polaroid of his two children is safely tucked away– and you decide that it’s probably for the best.

“Thanks, Gene. Have a good one.”

“You too!”

His reply barely reaches you as you cross the threshold from the comfort of your work into the cold, pensive night. A luckier soul may have suffered a fright when greeted with the colossal figure standing below the street light, carved with shadow, but it’s a familiar sight to you now. An inconspicuous black car is parked behind him.

“Hi Howdy.”

“Evening, Mx.” He bows slightly, whisking open the sleek passenger door which you reluctantly slide inside.

“I wish you’d stop calling me that. I do have a name.” It’s true. Being addressed formally by such an important figure imbues you a with a sick feeling, like he’s won, and you’ve already been initiated into this fucked up institution.

Though he waits for you to finish speaking before shutting you in, he doesn’t grace you with a response; not that you were expecting one. In all the times he’s escorted you to these duress-dates, as you’ve taken to calling them, he’s remained stoic to a mechanical degree, acknowledging your presence and nothing more. Thrashing, crying, screaming– you’ve tried everything to escape, and have never elicited a reaction more severe than that of a tired parent handling a tantrum. If you resist, he simply manhandles you. It’s hardly a fair match, with him having 4 arms and several feet of height on you, so you opt to reserve your energy for dealing with his headache of a boss.

When he hauls his many limbs onto the driver’s seat, the car lurches, too small to accommodate a puppet of his stature; he has to hunch forward to see the windshield, antennae pushed flat. You lean back and vacantly turn towards the window, wondering if cars big enough for someone like him to drive comfortably even exist while the engine rumbles to life.

The umbrous cityscape passes you by, inklings of humans and puppets flashing in and out of the darkness like ghosts. Thick boughs of red and green tinsel are strung across a few lamp posts, but by the end of the season they’ll all be covered. Dottie’s already triple checked that you and her sisters have one day of the annual Christmas market off, even though you strike the same deal with Gene every year; the four of you get Saturday, then he gets Sunday to take his family. It’s one of your favorite times of the year, if only because you get to experience the aura of wonder that enlivens Lottie when the first snow falls, Mottie’s timid wheedling to attend The Nutcracker, and Dottie’s alphabetically-organized checklist of fun winter activities.

Those cheerful thoughts are wiped away as Howdy turns into a private garage attached to a sleek, angular skyscraper. He parks in the spot nearest to the entrance, the first in a row of spaces labeled with metal “Reserved for Staff” signs, and circles the car to let you out. The sensation of him gingerly lifting you comes with no alarm; he always assists you up the concrete stairs leading to the elevator, as if you’re so physically inept you can’t handle 3 tiny steps. You assume his needless precaution is for the same reason he hasn’t beaten you yet despite defying him so often: boss’s orders.

With a reedy knell, the elevator glides open, and Howdy signals for you to go ahead. Once you’re both inside, he inserts a key and presses the button for the uppermost level. Expecting a noiseless ride, you tune into the low muzak emitting from the speakers, which makes you miss the first time he calls you.

“Mx.”

Startled, you swivel towards him. His steadfast profile is unreadable.

“Boss doesn’t know you’ve opposed him so vehemently in the past. Please keep that in mind tonight.”

The entrance broaches before you can interrogate him as to what the hell he means, granting you entry to a luxury penthouse laved in gold, ivory, and– of course– red. A glimmering chandelier suspends from the ornamental ceiling, bathing the antique furniture in an amber glow. If you hadn’t just ridden up the elevator, you would have assumed such a lavish drawing room belonged to an old mansion.

It’s something straight out of a romance novel, except instead of a chiseled, broody Italian, it’s a short puppet sitting at the marble-topped dining table. He lounges at the head in a slate blue silk suit with its jacket buttoned to the top; an honor seemingly reserved solely for you, because it’s the only way you’ve seen him wear it, despite street tales describing the way it billows from his shoulders as he stalks the town. Revealed by its plunged neckline is the collar of a white dress shirt embossed with rainbow pinstripes, and a red ascot neatly tied and pulled askant around his throat.

Wally Darling, in the felt: kingpin of The Neighborhood, and resident thorn in your side.

When you arrive, he rises to meet you, dismissing Howdy with a pointed glance; you’ve learned that the relationship between a crime lord and his loyal bandog transcends language. You watch him as he leaves through a pair of swinging doors to the left, his cryptic advice-slash-warning heavy on your mind.

And so, you find yourself alone with the most dangerous man in the city– puppet or otherwise.

“Good evening, dearest. I hope my gift found you well.”

The concept of personal space might as well be Greek to Wally, since he hasn’t once respected it from the day you had the misfortune of making his acquaintance. He crowds so close that you have to crane your neck to see his face, the heat emanating from him eliciting shivers in your chill-soaked body.

“Yes, thank you. It was quite a lively night,” you chirp, wielding a civil smile.

Although the contours of his wispy, coiffed curls only reach your ribs, he extends his arm to you, which you take with such a featherlight hold that you barely brush his sleeve. Rather than leading you to the dining table like you expected, you’re guided towards a small lounge area to the side, the crackling croon of Billie Holiday wafting over from a refurbished stereo console in the corner. Oh, great. He’s feeling sentimental.

“Would you indulge me with a dance before dinner?”

Don't have much of a choice, do I?

“I’d love to.”

Dancing with Wally is funny, in an ironic sort of way; it certainly caught you off guard the first time he asked. When you envision dancing with a powerful, deadly mobster, you think of being swept away, wrapped snugly by strong arms and a dastardly smirk, or perhaps something more courtly, like a waltz steered by a polite hand on your waist. Turns out both versions are incorrect.

Muscle memory ushers your arms open, and Wally falls into the space in between them– literally. Slack against you, his full weight is heftier than his height would imply, but not physically uncomfortable– emotionally and morally, however, are another story. An air of pure peace washes over him as his cheek nuzzles the underside of your chest, arms limp at his sides; you swear you even hear a little trill. Your face burns, but you say nothing as you begin to sway faintly to the beat, tracing a loop with your feet as you traipse along. Wally follows easily, tethered by the reluctant cage of your embrace.

“Do you remember the night we met?”

The query is felt more than heard, his gentle monotone muffled by the downy fabric of your garb. You huff softly to yourself, rustling a few gel-slick strands atop his pompadour.

“How could I forget?”

The day the infamous Mr. Darling appeared in your club, his two largest henchmen in tow, is burned into your brain like a regrettable tattoo; Gene was off, so you were covering entertainment for the night while the sisters managed the bar and floor. As you were singing the very song playing now, you detected a curious hush that had overtaken the throng of guests, and strained to cut through the stage glare and cigarette fog to locate the cause. Tracking the audience, who were all regarding the bar with varying amounts of subtlety, you nearly dropped the microphone when you saw the broad blue back of Barnaby B. Beagle, someone you’d only heard of in gossip. He gesticulated as he spoke boisterously to poor Mottie, who was as white as a sheet behind the counter. Situated a slight ways away was Howdy Pillar, who stood as motionless as a statue with both sets of forelimbs fastened behind him.

And then you noticed him. A puppet no more than 4 feet tall, but whose oppressive presence commanded full attention. He paid no mind to the (one-sided) conversation between his colleague and your friend– no, he was staring right at you. Boring into you so acutely that you felt pinned, compelled somehow to continue singing until the final note trickled away.

As if a spell had been broken, you leapt from the platform and scurried to Mottie, who stayed petrified even when you tried to covertly nudge her to the side. How avidly you wished a fissure would open beneath their shoes and swallow them whole; but, armed with years of appeasing difficult and sordid customers, you spoke.

“Evening, fellas. I hope you enjoyed the show.”

Barnaby, who had stopped talking when you rounded the bar, bellowed a laugh.

“Fellas?! Is that any way to greet the boss and I?"

He tilted forward with menacing glee, propped up by furry elbows as his claws scraped the laminate countertop. Each of his fangs were as big as your nose.

"Dontcha know who we are, toots? Or do ya just need a refresher on respect?"

The acrid smoke from his cigar blew directly into your face, making spikes of anger bubble in your belly as you choked back a cough. Just when you felt composed enough to reply, a surprisingly mellow voice chimed in.

"It's alright, Barnaby."

The shock slacking his jaw mirrored yours, although you hid it under a mask of cool indifference. You dared a glance at Mr. Darling, but the pressure of his peer chased your gaze back to Barnaby, who grumbled as he straightened back up. It was difficult to stay trained on his good eye, but you soldiered on. Fear was not something you could afford to show, and you knew you'd crumble if you peeked at the fabled gaping socket that he stapled open himself.

"I don't suppose you're Gene Clifton, aged 54, father of two, owner of this joint?" He joked, recovered from the flub.

"No, sir, but my banker would sure be happy if I was. Can I take down a message?"

"A message! I love this bird!" Snickering cruelly, he waved a flippant paw. "Y'should try that material on stage sometime, might bring ya more customers than the singing bit."

You sucked a sharp inhale up your nose. Serenity now.

"See, here's the problem. This is family territory, and in return for our protection, we charge a teensy fee. Now, we ain't unreasonable– we've sent ole Gene a few letters. And what’s our thanks for such humble hospitality? Zilch."

Oh dear. Gene doesn't bother investigating any mail the lounge receives before tossing it because it’s typically adverts. He definitely would've noted The Neighborhood's seal if he did. Regardless, the frank abuse of power only fanned your annoyance, obscuring your better judgment.

"What protection? I don't recall seeing any of your members patrolling outside. Besides, we didn’t ask for protection."

Mottie snapped towards you, looking as though she might faint. The corner of Barnaby's mouth twitched skyward, like he was hoping you'd argue, but his boss beat him to the punch.

"We can reach an agreement, I’m sure. I'd hate to see a family establishment go under, especially when they have such lovely entertainment."

Apparently Wally was so smitten that he'd accept your company in lieu of money, and so the agreement (if you can even call it that, since you were coerced) was this– whenever a rose was delivered to you, you'd attend a rendezvous with him. When you returned to your dressing room later that evening, you discovered the first gift of several: your vase.

“I knew because of your eyes.”

The floral wallpaper in front of you shifts back into focus, Wally’s voice shaking you from your recollection.

“Pardon?”

“That night, you drew me in; I couldn’t concentrate on anything else, least of all a petty protection tax. And I knew I had to have you when I met your eyes.” He sounds dreamy, reminiscing as you were before, though his framing of events is worlds apart from your own; he recalls a destined encounter with his future partner, whereas you mark it the day your wings were clipped for good.

“They shone like stars, even through the smog.”

It’s only after he’s finished that you realize you’ve stopped moving, wrapped in an intimate hug like true lovers. A strange mix of pride and disgust floods you at the compliment, stomach flip-flopping rapidly.

He untangles from you, receding so that only your hands remain connected. The newfound distance eases some of your tension, but to your horror, you find yourself mourning the loss of the husky scent of his cologne. Loath as you are to admit it, the bastard smells amazing: a dark, leathery swirl of apples and saffron that you’d buy out if someone turned it into a candle.

“Let’s not delay any longer. You must be starving.”

True to his gentlemanly veneer, he seats you at the table before settling himself. You don’t see him call, but a server emerges immediately from the doors through which Howdy left with a tray of appetizers.

There are two graces you award Wally Darling: his excellent taste in cologne, and his staff’s Michelen-quality fare. Though they adopt the four courses typical of fine dining, the dishes are more grounded, toeing the border between grandma and Gordon Ramsay perfectly. Truthfully, you’re not even sure what to categorize it as; virtually everything is transfigured into a jello, pie, or salad, harkening back to the post-war cookbooks you used to gawk at as a child in your late mother’s library. The yellowed pictures in those books appeared extremely unappetizing, but somehow The Neighborhood makes it work.

It could be because of an illusive member named Poppy, one of the 7 who make up Wally’s illustrious inner circle. She’s scarcely seen due to her fretful and skittish nature, but Wally lauds her cooking and baking skills, regaling you in the past with plenty of kitchen mishaps that occurred when she tried to decompress by experimenting with recipes and was interrupted by their more excitable comrades. If you remember correctly, he once told you that most of the menus in rotation were created by her.

The nature of these duress-dates is wholly dependent on Wally’s mood– if he’s happy, then he’ll gladly chat your ear off about frivolous happenings in his and his friends’ private lives, though he takes care to be shrewd with any details that dive too deep into the murky underbelly lying just below. If he’s unhappy, then they can be utterly unbearable; his mere existence puts you on edge, so it’s exponentially worse when he’s out of sorts, tone curt and glare fierce.

Thankfully, he’s amiable tonight. The first 3 courses march on without incident, and painless conversation flows between the two of you, even if he does most of the talking– you’re not exactly eager to share more than you have to. It’s when the server presents dessert that things go awry.

“Say, how are those triplets you work with doing?” Wally says, spooning at the Bananas Foster. “I haven’t had the pleasure of catching a performance since our mishap a while back. So much paperwork, so little time, you know how it is.”

The mention of both your friends and the aforementioned Dorelaine incident have you bristling reflexively, but you do your best to tamp it down.

“They’re well, overall. Sometimes it’s difficult for them– their manager’s a real piece of work, and we get all types at the lounge.”

“I see…”

He lets out a long “hmmmm”, like he’s reflecting on this information.

“My family has also come upon hard times. It can be… trying, sometimes, to guide my children. Especially now, when we are under unjust attack.” He confesses, wistfully resting his chin on a thread-scarred palm. “Every family requires a head, but what is a head without a neck?”

Unjust my ass. Still, the weird metaphor confuses you.

“A neck?”

At that, his catlike grin only grows. What is he talking about?

“Yes, a neck; that is, someone who supports the head. I care for my family, so it’s only right I am cared for in return, wouldn’t you say?”

Though the phrasing is puzzling, you’re fairly confident you can infer what he’s purposefully dangling in front of you, and oh, it makes your stomach plummet. Sweat breaks out underneath your suddenly-sweltering outfit; it's as if you've been tied to a railroad and have managed to divert the train through pure will for a year, but now it's steamrolling square for you. The anxiety of impending doom renders you mute, unable to piece together a coherent thought.

Taking your silence in stride, Wally leans forward, intense as he grasps your hand in both of his own. The yellow fuzz does nothing to help how clammy you feel.

“What I mean to say is, I think that it’s time to settle down."

No.

“Wh– what? Settle down how?”

“To get married, silly.”

You’re unable to help the gasp that escapes you. No, no, no!

“Get married? You mean– to me?!”

“Of course. I’ve been courting you all this time, haven’t I?”

You sputter, and he rubs your hand as if to soothe you. His many gold rings gleam under the chandelier, teasing a glimpse of your fate.

“I know in the beginning you weren’t receptive to the idea of this life, but I've shown you that I can provide for you better than anyone else.”

Your expression must betray your surprise, because he chuckles– a slow, stilted sound that sends gooseflesh blooming across your skin.

“You thought I didn’t know? Howdy may not have reported it– which I’ll rectify in due time– but I have eyes everywhere, dear. You’re quite the talented actor, though.”

That trademark simper melts into something beguiling; he cradles you as if you’re the most precious thing he’s ever held.

“I love you, and I will take care of you, as I ask you to do for me. Doesn’t that sound wonderful?”

An inviting facade of genuine affection, so ardent that you almost want to believe it. Wouldn’t that be the easiest path to take? To surrender to the hand that feeds, because where it strangles others, it caresses you sweetly? It’s more tempting than you’d ever divulge, because underneath the armor of aplomb you've so carefully forged, you're exhausted. This burden has been yours alone to bear– and what a bear it is, because if you mess up, the people you love could be injured, or worse. So much worse.

Perhaps sensing an opening, Wally continues.

“Be reasonable. The family welcomes you with open arms! Haven’t you missed having a family?"

The words stab you right through the heart, and your waning resolve springs back tenfold by the fury that ruddies your vision. When you rip your hand away, he makes no move to stop you.

"My friends are my family. I don’t want anyone else, especially not murderers!” You snarl. “You kill people– and torture and maim them! How can you expect me to accept this?!"

"All in a day's work when cleaning up the city, unfortunately," Wally hums. "I wish we didn't have to resort to such things, but you must understand. As it is, puppets are treated as less than, and hardship runs rampant for both humans and puppets alike. You’ve experienced these firsthand.” With the elegance of a master conman, he touches his chest in mock respire. “All we wish to do is provide a safe haven for those in need– somewhere to rest your bones, enjoy a hot meal, and where everyone accepts you as their own. A home.”

You abruptly stand up, feeling like you’re wound so taut that you could erupt at any moment. The mahogany chair behind you tips over from the force, striking the floor with a leaden thud, though the sound is deafened by the blood rushing in your ears.

“Bullshit! You don’t have to start a gang to combat discrimination or help suffering people! Maybe that spiel works on the poor saps you trick into doing your dirty work, but it won’t work on me. The answer is no.”

All is still for a moment as you struggle to calm your heaving breaths, trembling and locked in a quiet stalemate with Wally, who’s as relaxed as ever. Your attention flits from his right eye to where the left would be, if not for the lesion carved from a notch above his eyelid to an inch below, giving the illusion that what lies beneath is impaled.

Oh shit.

The magnitude of what just transpired comes crashing down as your adrenaline flushes out. After playing it safe for months– stomaching unwanted exorbitant gifts, being tailed by his employees, and rousted to innumerous “dates”– you just rejected Wally Darling in the most aggressive way possible. So you do the only thing that might garner you a chance to make it out of this alive: run.

You’re halfway across the room when 4 thick arms suddenly wrangle and force you to halt, a scream ripping itself from your throat out of fear. Can this motherfucker teleport now?! How the hell did he get here so fast?? Thrashing, you throw your head back to search Howdy’s face, desperate for an ounce of the sympathy he’d offered in the elevator, but it is in vain; his stony visage is impenetrable, as though it had never wavered.

“How about you sleep on it, hm? Think about all of your options. We wouldn’t want anything to happen to those little lambs when their adorable shepherd isn’t around to protect them.”

Delicate fingers cup your jaw, making you freeze as Wally stretches up to plant a faux-kiss on your cheek, complete with a small “mwah!”. You scowl daggers at him as he collects your hat from where it flew to the floor, dusts it off, and lovingly places it back on your head before giving you a few pats.

“Aw, don’t be that way, darling. I truly meant what I said; you have beautiful eyes. I can hardly wait to try one on.”

With a snap, you’re hauled over Howdy’s back and spirited out of the room, presumably to be transported to wherever you’ll be staying. Hopefully not Wally’s quarters.

It’s all too much; you feel like you’re trapped in a nightmare. How else did you expect this to end? You’re not sure. With all of the awful things he’s done, forcing you into marriage is not beyond him. You just thought you’d have more time: to plan, to save up enough money to take the girls and race to the hills.

Tears gather on your waterlines, and the minute your mouth wobbles, they spill ceaselessly. Full-bodied sobs wrack you, the pain of Howdy’s shoulder jutting into your midsection compounding the profound ache of sorrow. All this time, you’ve been trying to fight, but there was no fight to be had; it ended the moment his eyes found yours across the lounge that day.

#🐇 penned #🌈🖼️ wh #feat. some random ocs i made up for the sake of the fic #welcome home #welcome home x reader #wally darling x reader #x reader #reader-insert #yandere x reader #i love randomly throwing in ronald dorelaine #cause we have no idea who he is or what he's like #so he can be whatever i need him to be #yandere wally darling #yandere wally darling x reader #welcome home mob au #clownsuu

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heyitschartic · 6 months

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I've seen a lot of people complain on tumblr about how Worm fanfic is nothing but altpower Taylors. It's not a complaint without merit, I've been hearing it since 2017. Hell, it's something I complain about a lot too. It's true, the fandom is filled with crappy altpowers that really add nothing. But to an extent, I always feel I should push back a little against it.

Even if I do advocate for just writing your own thing, there's a really good reason so few people do. There are a good amount of Worm fanfics out there that use original characters, niche characters, or do a wild take on the premise. Not a ton, not the majority, but a good amount.

But nobody reads them.

Rank is probably one of the best stories in the fandom. Long, filled with original charscter's, and with an interesting focus on a PRT officer working in San Fransisco. It's got an amazing scope, working from when Leviathan attacked Kyushu all the way to Gold Morning and has so many brilliant setpieces and bits of world building. It's earned its spot as one of the best, if not the best, story in the fandom.

It pulled in a paltry amount of comments and likes over the years it was being posted.

I remember when I first entered the fandom, there were already people warning new writers that, while it would be cooler if you wrote about someone other than Taylor, that you'd be getting a fraction of the views. And it sucks yeah, but it's the truth. I've seen a lot of writers over the years get discouraged because stories they love and put a lot of time into just get ten likes and maybe one comment an update. A good friend of mine will only pre-write her OC stories because the absolute lack of interest is so disheartening its caused her to just give up in the past.

And it's not like people who critique Worm Fanfics for being filled with shitty altpowers even really read this stuff. Say what you will about the Cauldron discord, but it's one of the few places I've seen people push HARD for others to read this niche weird stories, and even then there's pusback or luke warm reception. It's sad to see people talk shit about altpowers, but just not really check anything else out but that in the first place. It's just as bad as if you were only reading them.

Check out stories trying something original! Luz Mala, Rank, Agent of Cauldron, City of Bones and Teeth, Diary of a Professional Knock-off, Fault, Lend Me Your Ears, Mouse Trap, Sunspot, Nightcrawler, Raccoon Knight; and those are just the ones I can name off the top of my head! There are a lot out there waiting for you to find!!!!

And how to fix it? Well, I'm not sure if there is a fix. If anything is going to work though, at least be the change. If you aren't someone whose actively reading and commenting on new fics about OC's or similar, well, what incentive is there for people to write them? Sure, a love of just creating something might push you to post, but if you feels like you're just shouting into a void, it might feel better to just not shout at all.

If you want people to write good stories, give them a reason to actually do it.

#wormblr #worm fanfiction

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crispycreambacon · 1 month

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Ending April with a small parting gift. I’m gonna miss this.

Anyways, an announcement of my own.

The short of it

I’m leaving the Watcher fandom. Don’t worry, I won’t be unfollowing anyone, but I will be ceasing the creation of art for Watcher and interaction with the community at large. Thank you all for this short but meaningful ride. Feel free to unfollow me if you were here for Watcher art, and for those who stick around…

Thank you :]

I hope to not disappoint with this new era of mine.

The long of it

It’s been a couple of days since a certain channel dropped an announcement that imploded its fandom. It was… a mess. A lot—and I mean a lot—of us didn’t handle the news well, and we made that known to everyone. The impact was so massive that YouTubers, who are nowhere near the niche that Watcher operates under, covered the situation, and some of them explained very well why the decision went over so poorly. Meanwhile some of them made fun of the situation, and some were just there for the clicks, but that’s the cycle of YouTube drama for you.

With the amount of ears waiting for even a peep out of their mouths, Watcher couldn’t ignore the backlash any longer and released an apology video three days after the announcement. By all accounts, it was a pretty good response. The reception was mixed, but it was definitely more well-received than their first video, and they actually listened to their fans who gave them valid criticism over the sudden shift to a streaming service.

However…

For as much as I appreciate their response, I still can’t find it in myself to continue following Watcher. I really mean it when I say this disaster soured any enjoyment I had for them. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to watch them again for a long time without thinking about this situation or remembering the people they have hurt, even if unintentionally, through their poor execution of a business decision.

Do I believe they could’ve pulled off moving their content to a streaming service? Absolutely. However, so many factors doomed this decision and their announcement from the start from them believing that $5.99/month was “affordable to everyone” (seriously?) to them insisting that this was for the fans even though the fans have vocalized that they were never there for the high production value. They were there because the three guys who run Watcher were enjoyable!

I feel like if they had been honest about the fact that the TV quality they are aiming for was more for themselves than anyone–hell, it’s the mission statement in their About page, and, I don’t know, considered the idea that $6 is not cheap, especially for international fans, people wouldn’t have gotten so angry at them. Now, there are still numerous issues plaguing this business model, but to go through all of the arguments would require a separate post, and I’ve already expended too much energy on this situation. Needless to say, Watcher has burnt their bridges, and it will take a while before they can build them back up again, let alone get people to trust them enough to cross them.

On the other hand, I can’t blame Watcher fully for my departure. Despite my heavy disagreement with their initial decision, I understand why they thought this decision was a good idea in the first place as YouTube is a very unstable career path, and it would rather hurt its creators with its relentless demonetization, censorship and restrictive guidelines than give up just a tiny amount of its profit. Besides, they’re in control of their content, and they could do what they want with it even if their fans disagreed with them.

Speaking of the fans, my god. The situation revealed a side of the fandom that I never thought I would see, but in hindsight, I should have seen it coming. To see fans resort to anti-Asian racism and death threats so quickly was extremely heartbreaking, and as an Asian person, it made me feel very unsafe and unwelcome in the community.

Moreover, using Steven as a scapegoat to absolve Ryan and Shane of any wrongdoing was unfortunately a very common response. Yes, he is the CEO, and yes, his series being centered on traveling and eating expensive food really doesn’t paint him in a positive light, but need I remind you that RYAN AND SHANE ARE GROWN ADULTS. They’re the founders of Watcher, and they both have to agree to the initial plan for it to be implemented. You can’t assume that Steven was a boogeyman terrorizing your precious little boys just based on a 15-minute video. You don’t know what’s going on behind the scenes.

All of this to say that the initial announcement combined with how the community reacted violently to the announcement really nipped my interest in Watcher in the bud. It was a shame too because I really did love Watcher, and I still do. Had it not been for the time I invested in following them, I wouldn’t have made great friends, regained the joy in creating art–even reviving a hobby/skill that I assumed was long dead, and had a reason to be able to laugh or smile even in terrible days. I truly am grateful for Watcher, and I do not regret ever getting into them at all. However, I think it’s time for me to go.

Thank you all for this weird and wonderful ride, but at some point, you’ll have to hop off. I just didn’t expect to hop off it so soon.

#Back to hiatus I go (for real this time) I’ll see y’all in 3 weeks 🫡#I’m more sad than anything #But alas we move forward #Thank you everyone #It was fun while it lasted #the professor #puppet history #watcher #watcher entertainment #we are watcher #art #chris p fried art #chris p fried rambles

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hiscleric · 10 months

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a year ago today i published the first chapter of ‘bury me in metamorphoses’!

as cheesy as it sounds, this fic changed my life!!! all of the love and the huge amounts of reception it garnered reintroduced me to my love of writing, and it also introduced me to so, so many amazing people, both on ao3 and on twitter and on tumblr.

while i look back on the writing now and cringe a little bit, it still holds a special place in my heart. :,) my first fanfiction to gain any sort of traction and the way people love it means so, so much to me. there is SO much i could say about this fic and about my thought process writing it and how surreal the fandom reception was to it, but i don’t want to keep you here all day.

so, to put it simply; thank you. thank you for loving this little piece of work as much as you do, and thank you for how kind and loving you have been toward me as a writer in this community. i know i have been awol for a while, and my ao3 account is collecting dust as we speak, but your daily love and appreciation does not go unnoticed.

happy birthday, BMIM!!!! if you were wondering, i’m sure will and mike are chilling in a little cottage on the irish countryside right now, content and happy. they deserve it, after all.

#byler #will byers #byler fanfic #mike wheeler #byler fic #read on ao3 #ao3 #stranger things #hiscleric #bury me in metamorphoses #i cant believe it’s been a year that’s crazy #thank you guys again #love u all

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detectivegumshoepals · 6 months

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zuzsenpai (detectivegumshoepals)'s Ace Attorney fanfiction masterpost

Since I'm hoping to come back to the AA fandom around the time the AJ Trilogy is released, I figured I should document all of my AA fics in one place, in case I want to write more in the future. All of my Ace Attorney fics contain "text box images", so the AO3 word counts are inaccurate. Also this list does not contain collaborative fics. Comprehensive fic list under the cut:

Multi-ship:

"Turnabout Dishwasher" - Narumitsu, Klapollo, Blackmadhi, various friendships including Miles & Ray, Trucy & Pearl, Phoenix & Maya, Trucy & Apollo. - multi-chap 32/32 (completed); rated T; 422,600 words - Summary: Trucy is leaving on a post-graduation trip around the world, leaving Phoenix more alone than he’s been in a long time. Before she leaves, Trucy asks her Uncle Miles to keep her father company while she’s gone. And Edgeworth takes his job very seriously. Meanwhile, Ray Shields reminisces on Miles’ growth over the many years they’ve known each other. On the other side of the world, Apollo and Nahyuta will be working with some new, but very familiar prosecutors in Khura’in.

Narumitsu only:

"Thought Provoking" - oneshot; rated T; 10,500 words - Summary: During the Sprocket wedding reception, the topic of Phoenix, Edgeworth and weddings comes up again. And again. The Butz is on a roll, and Edgeworth, Phoenix and Maya are along for the ride.

"Thoughts Run Wild" - sequel to "Thought Provoking" - multi-chaptered (ongoing/on hold); rated T; 3,500 words - Summary: Months after Phoenix and Miles realize they star in each other's wedding fantasies, Miles wonders why things haven't progressed in their relationship. Thoughts aren't reality, no matter how much we wish that were so. How can Miles aim to fix that?

"Hypothetically Speaking" - oneshot; rated T; 375 words - Summary: "Hypothetically speaking, how would you go about sneaking into the courtroom…"

Blackmadhi only:

"Glass Walls" - oneshot; rated T; 5,300 words - Summary: Nahyuta finds a Mitamah-green colored sticky note affixed to their office wall, with words written on the sticky side. “Why are you here so late?”, signed with a little doodle of a feather.

"Dragon's Hoard" - oneshot; rated T; 3,500 words - Summary: Simon’s birthday was in September. As a gift for his 30th, Athena bought Taka a “perch” for the office. This perch was in reality a large, black, wrought iron Christmas ornament display tree, but Simon thought it was hilarious and set it up in his office immediately.

"Sad Santa Sahdmadhi" - oneshot; rated T; 565 words - Summary: "Why are you dressed as Father Christmas’ weird cousin?"

"Happy Anniversary You Shitty, Shitty Person" - oneshot; rated T; 1,100 words - Summary: Simon’s got places to be, confections to unveil, Sad Monks to bother.

"You're the Only Place That Feels Like Home" - Blackmadhi-specific sequel to "Turnabout Dishwasher - oneshot; rated T; 9,200 words - Summary: He could stare at the Khura’inese mountains all day. He could listen to Skye-dono and Queen Amara remind him of how much he’s changed since he moved here. But to call Khura’in his home? Simon wasn’t so sure. He had to find Nahyuta before he took that mental step.

Klapollo only:

"Second Helmet" - oneshot; rated T; 10,000 words - Summary: As 30-year-old Apollo settled back into his old life at the Agency, the defense attorney realized this relative peace hadn’t even been his old life. Peace was something new, and frankly the mundaneness was kind of exciting. He hoped, but didn’t expect, everything to fall into place accordingly.

"On My Level" - oneshot; rated M; 2,200 words - Summary: Klavier finds Apollo in a peculiar position. Apollo finds Klavier at a peculiar angle.

#ace attorney fanfiction #narumitsu #klapollo #blackmadhi #my fanfics;#fanfic masterlist;

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nhasablogg · 6 months

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Girls night

Fandom: Stranger Things

Characters: Dustin, Max, El, Nancy, Robin

Summary: Dustin gets invited to girls night. It doesn't really go as planned.

A/N: Commission for someone who would like to stay anonymous! Thank you so much, I hope you like this!

Words: 1.6k

They called them girls night until Dustin came along, standing on Max’s doorstep one evening looking so utterly sad that they had to invite him in. He’d not known he was intruding on a sacred tradition. How could he have known? They didn’t tell the boys anything about it. “I didn’t even know you guys were friends,” he’d said when he’d found the four of them cramped in Max’s bedroom. “Or, well, I guess some of you, but not all four of you at the same time. God, I’m not making sense.”

Nancy had been the first to place her hand on his shoulder when he ducked his head, as if not making sense was the worst crime of them all. “Are you okay?” she’d asked and when he’d spilled his guts on Max’s bedroom floor all four of them decided then and there that he could join them as often as he needed to, especially since half his problems were either about the boys or Suzie. Those were simply not problems a group of teenage boys (and Steve and Eddie) could help him solve.

“Girls night!” Dustin exclaimed in delight when they told him it was his turn to host, mostly as a joke, only to find him much more receptive to the idea than they’d thought. “Finally. It’s been ages since last time, and boy do I have things to tell you.”

Max met El’s gaze and they both rolled their eyes fondly. “We’ll bring the snacks.”

“Good. And drinks! Don’t forget the drinks.”

His excitement hadn’t died down at all when they all filed up in his living room three days later, Mrs Henderson nowhere in sight. “I got the movies,” Robin said, chucking them on the couch.

“And we got the snacks,” El said, holding up a bag. “Lots of snacks.”

Placing the coca cola bottle on the floor, they picked out one of the movies and started their movie night, only Dustin started complaining nearly immediately about their choice of movies, their choice of snacks, all in all being a pain in the ass although he kept his tone light enough, or so he thought. It was only once he complained about the flavor of the chips again that he realized he might be pissing them off, if their reaction was any indication.

Max was the first one to strike, which made sense, but Eleven was the most relentless one, he would later find out. Nancy worked with practiced precision, while Robin was more careful, uncertain of where the line could be crossed. Dustin, naturally, did not make a single one of these observations, as he was too busy fighting for his life under tickling fingers.

At first it was simply something quick and chaotic; Max declaring that she was fed up with his comments and receiving a jutted out chin in return. The first poke was perfectly aimed, as she knew exactly what spots would have him crying out and what would have him running off. She was clever in how she went for a spot that didn’t immediately raise too many red flags, keeping him on the couch maybe because none of them had meant for the night to go in this direction anyway. He jerked away and grabbed at his side as if he’d been shot, turning to glare at her only to find that his reaction had jostled something in Nancy’s memories which had her poking his other side instantly. “I’d forgotten how ticklish you used to be.”

“You can forget it again,” he said, slightly panicked now. But truth be told all of them had, if not tickled him, at least seen him get tickled. With Max and El it had started with Lucas not giving him a break. With Robin it was because of Steve.

Nancy, on the other hand, had done it to him and Mike for as long as he could remember, mostly to get them to leave her alone. It rarely happened anymore, so he’d forgotten about it entirely until now - Nancy was a lethal tickler.

She poked him again, aiming higher this time just as Max went to squeeze his thigh. It was that experimental curiosity. Of wondering how far they could take it. Dustin, having not grown up with siblings, simply didn’t know how to beg for mercy despite being a frequent victim of tickles now.

“That’s what you get for being annoying,” Max said as she narrowly dodged a flying elbow, which she grabbed so that she could go for his armpit, which was what made him start laughing.

“I’m not annoying!” he cried, trying to twist out of her grip only to find it brought him closer to Nancy, who seemed to be remembering just how bad his neck was in that very moment.

In retrospect it probably was foolish to try to run away with multiple ticklers, but Dustin simply couldn’t handle the thought of doing otherwise. Of course he tripped over the stupid coca cola bottle, which was thankfully empty. Of course the girls weren’t going to let him go after that. It was El who grabbed his foot first when he tried to crawl away, and it was Max who decided to sit on his midriff to keep him in place. Movie forgotten for new entertainment. Dustin couldn’t even blame them.

“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice wavering in a way he hoped no one would comment on.

Max was grinning at him. “Just getting some revenge, that’s all.”

“Look, I know I can be annoying, but don’t you think this is overdoing it a little?”

“Not at all. I think it’s. Just. Right.” She poked his stomach with each word, and while his hands were free they were of little use like this.

“Aw, he’s giggling.” Robin’s face appeared, peeking down at him from behind Max. “Once you’re done with him I’d like a turn.”

“Me too,” El said, tugging at his pant leg but surprisingly not tickling his foot.

“Same here.” Dustin gulped at Nancy’s words, knowing she would end him completely.

(How wrong he was.)

“There’s plenty of time to all get a turn,” Max said and dove in as if she was in a time crunch anyway. She was systematic in how she wrecked him; going for his neck first since it was easy to reach, and while he had his arms raised in an attempt to shield himself she went for his armpits again, this time not moving away. Dustin, in a frenzy of not knowing what to do and being unable to handle it, screamed, although if you asked the girls they would say he squealed.

Robin was gentler, although she kept him in place easily. Fingertips on his sides, squeezing and trailing, staying on the outside of his shirt and tickling him like hell anyway. She briefly moved to the center of his belly, noticing how it made him thrash, and instead of it encouraging her she seemed to grow uncertain and stay away, except for the occasional poke.

Eleven had barely taken a seat before she latched onto his hips and wouldn’t let go. She squeezed in a way that sent ticklish shocks through his whole body and he felt himself jolting on the living room floor, managing to thank the gods that his mother had opted for a soft carpet after all.

The moment Nancy appeared in his line of vision was the moment he knew he was doomed, but somehow, maybe due to already being tickled out, her fingers weren’t the worst ones. In fact, they seemed nearly apologetically gentle as they trailed over his stomach, not shy of lifting his shirt due to their familiarity. Dustin put her gentleness to the test when he screamed - actually screamed - as she briefly dipped a finger into his belly button.

“Oh?” she said with a laugh. “Bad spot?”

“Don’t!”

“Mm, I think I will.”

“I wanna do it after you,” Max said, and Dustin spent the next twenty seconds scream-laughing as they all took turns tickling his belly button, all the while Nancy kept straddling him.

Dustin nearly - nearly - managed to get up when they switched again for a second round, but Eleven was quicker, taking Nancy’s place and obliterating his thighs as she reached behind her to squeeze them before he even had time to protest. He threw his head back, eyes squeezed shut as he laughed, which was why he never saw it coming until lips were suddenly blowing raspberries against his still bare stomach.

They took turns again, as if he was simply a piece of ticklish tissue to experiment on. But somehow, despite it being overwhelming, he found he didn’t fully mind it. In fact, he almost had fun, even as he managed to nearly escape again only to get pinned to the floor to endure another round of raspberries.

Once they had reduced him to a begging mess, Nancy finished the job. Another raspberry and a dip into his belly button, then a quick once over on all of his worst spots again before she finally got off of him and he could breathe freely again.

“I hope you learned your lesson,” Max said, helping him up.

Dustin muttered something incomprehensible even to himself and collapsed on the couch and didn’t move a single inch even as the girls settled around him again, Eleven briefly putting her head on his shoulder in a way that he always found comforting.

The whole ordeal, miraculously, only lasted about five minutes and they rewinded the movie easily.

#tickling #ticklish!dustin #stranger things fic #tickle fic #stranger things #n writes #girls night

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sky-fire-forever · 7 months

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I am... once again so sad and disappointed by Izzy's death.

Like... I just very genuinely do not understand the purpose his death served. Like if it's to fuel Ed's arc, it very genuinely fails to do so! Like, he says the crew loves Ed. He says the crew are Ed's family.

But Ed LEAVES THE CREW BEHIND! He does not stay with them!!! What is the point of that??

Why did the crew just fucking stand there while Izzy bled out?? This crew, who fucking risked their own lives to save Izzy, who accepted him as their family, just fucking stand around awkwardly while Izzy dies in Ed's arms.

Jim, Archie, and Frenchie could have been fucking KILLED by Ed for hiding the fact that Izzy survived. When Ed told Frenchie to fucking murder Izzy in cold blood, Frenchie risked death to refuse and hide Izzy from Ed. To lie to Ed's face about it.

They risked their fucking lives to save him.

And to declare him the new unicorn. They made him a new leg after they cut his flesh leg off to save him. They helped him find his place as their family and this touches him so much that he cries over it. Izzy fucking Hands. Cries over this meaningful gift that proves to him that despite his disability, they want him around. They love him.

And these people. These people who accept Izzy as their family and risked everything to save him from Ed. They just... stand in the background so Ed can hold him. Not one of them is shown to be affected by Izzy's death, NOT EVEN ED.

Ed just says "that's that" and moves the fuck on to run a terrible inn with his boyfriend who he rushed into another whim with despite them addressing that that is their flaw in their relationship.

I just don't understand the fucking POINT of Izzy's death. Yes, death can be meaningless in real life. But this show is not fucking real life. It's a show and it's supposed to be a comedy.

And yet this show depicts suicide, abuse, trauma, and then... laughs it off. But those heavy themes aren't part of the joke. They're just... there. But only when the show wants to be Edgy and Dramatic. And nothing has consequences.

It genuinely feels like they just didn't know what to do with Izzy, so they killed him off because they thought it'd be Dramatic.

I am so, so grateful to this show for his queer representation. I love the characters. I love the first season. I love a lot of how they handled so much.

But I'm still just... disappointed with season two.

I'm disappointed with its treatment of women. With how basically the whole crew become little more than background characters. I'm disappointed that they brought so many interesting ideas to the table and then didn't follow through with any of it.

I'm just... disappointed. That doesn't mean I regret that the show exists. I'm grateful for the good parts. I just think it could have been better

And keep in mind, I was not a part of the fandom until season two was airing. I watched season one when it came out and I liked it, but wasn't invested enough to seek out online takes. I had no idea what the fandom's opinion was.

The first episode that I started looking at stuff online about was Calypsos Birthday. That was the episode when I joined the fandom. Because I loved Izzy's display of queerness as it's presented in that episode and I adored Wee John's presentation as well. I got so excited by it, I went online.

I had no expectations for the finale. I had no idea what the fandom was like. I had no idea of the reception of Izzy or how things were expected to play out.

When I watched season one, my favorite characters were Oluwande and Jim. Jim meant so much to me as a trans person and I just thought Oluwande was such a kind and lovely person while not being portrayed as an idiot when so often the kind male characters are also written as stupid. And I really loved that Oluwande wasn't that!

I loved Ed and Stede's relationship! And their arc! I thought they were lovely characters who had such a good dynamic! I was rooting for them!

Izzy very honestly faded into the background for me when I first watched season one. I forgot most of what he did. He was kinda a plot device in my mind.

That didn't change until season two, when they gave him such a beautiful arc. And he skyrocketed into being my favorite character.

But I noticed how heavy the first episodes of season two were. And I noticed the way none of the actions had consequences. I was so confused as to why the crew just... accepted Ed back after he literally tortured them. I was like... "wait, what"

And I spent literally the whole season believing that Oluwande and Jim were in a polyamorous relationship because it was never made clear what the situation was.

And Ed and Stede became so... unlikable. Like they both became worse people and then never had aht consequences for it. Ed never had to deal with the fact that he fucking TORTURED his CREW. To the point where they had to try to KILL HIM. But he was saved through the power of love because it made a pretty mermaid scene.

I also didn't understand when Oluwande became romantically attracted to Zheng. I thought they were friends and he liked her as a person, but he seemed so awkward when she was flirting with him and I thought he was still in love with Jim. I very genuinely thought Jim saying they kissed someone else and the two of them laughing about it was the beginning of a polyam relationship. It very genuinely did not occur to me that they were not together

But this is a queer fucking show. And I assumed they were going to do a queer thing instead of wanting the audience to assume how their relationship played out based on social norms. I thought that's just... what made sense

And Lucius and Black Pete suddenly being portrayed as so... monogamous despite season one portraying them as Not That hurt so much as a polyamorous person. I didn't understand why it became like they were the people who mattered most to each other and they even got married, which polyam people can definitely do, but it felt like a moment of "You Are And Always Will Be The Most Important Person To Me"

I dunno. I very genuinely didn't mean to ramble this long, but I guess I had a lot to say

#ofmd #ofmd critical #ofmd season 2 #ofmd spoilers #our flag means death #queue-no steel

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emmabirb8 · 1 year

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I'm not usually one to hop on a hype train (heck, most the time it seems I end up joining fandoms WAAAYY late, lol), and I'm sure I'm not the only one to say this, but Bluey, man. Bluey is fantastic. It deserves the hype.

Not only does this show flaunt gorgeous animation paired with cute, whimsical musical scores that complement the themes of the episodes, it's also smart, sweet, funny, realistic, creative, and most importantly, genuinely wholesome. Every episode I've seen so far has left me with a smile and a true warm and fuzzy feeling (and I've laughed at least once per episode too, the humor is great). The child characters act like children do in real life, and the parents interact with them in a playful and healthy way that engages their imaginations as well as teaches them important skills and lessons.

And what really stands out to me - the parents respect and actively listen to their kids, and they apologize when they are the cause of whatever issues they might be having (like when Bingo admitted that Bandit had been playing too rough with her, or when Chilli inadvertently hurt Bluey's feelings by placing a drawing of Bingo's on top of hers on the fridge). These are incredibly important aspects of a healthy parent/child relationship, and it is SO refreshing to see such instances highlighted in so many episodes. Seriously, I don't think I've EVER seen such a loving, interactive, and receptive representation of parents on... well, anything. Bandit and Chilli Heeler should win ALL the parenting awards. <3

In recent years, we've gotten a lot of animated series' aimed at younger kids and teens that adults also highly appreciate. But it's rare that a kid's show aimed at toddlers/preschoolers like this one can manage to strike that perfect balance where kid and adult viewers alike can learn valuable information and be thoroughly entertained (and get hit right in the feels every once in a while, too). Bluey manages to capture that balance flawlessly. The overall vibe comes across more like an animated film as opposed to a tv series tbh.

Anyway, Bluey is great and you should all go check it out asap!

#bluey #bluey show #bluey cartoon #bluey heeler #bingo heeler #bandit heeler #chilli heeler #bandit and chilli heeler #heeler family #tv shows #bluey meta #parenting #my posts

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frannyzooey · 2 months

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Do you have any advice for new writers? It can feel a little sad when you pour your heart and soul into something and it feels like it isn’t being read. I definitely am experiencing a writers block and I can’t tell if its because it’s hurting me emotionally to keep writing stories that feel like they may be underwhelming to the fandom. I still love reading fics and am thinking of possibly just writing for myself but not posting anymore. I hate to feel that way, especially when this is a virtual space lol, but just trying to understand from other authors what kept/keeps them going.

BOY HOWDY DO I

First of all, give yourself a hug, okay? A nice big squeeze -- you were brave and strong and creative and made something from nothing and took the steps to share it and that takes fucking GUTS, okay? The nerves you have to overcome to even do that in the first place are immense, and YOU DID IT. ❤

Second of all, lemme hit on a few points here:

"It can feel a little sad when you pour your heart and soul into something and it feels like it isn’t being read"

Listen, I know this pain. I know it might seem like I don't since I do get interaction, but I didn't always (and still don't, depending on the subject of the fic) -- and I get this. It's really sad! Writing is something that can be so personal, by default it affects you emotionally no matter what reception it gets. But also, when feels like it isn't being read is a special kind of pain, because the whole reason we share on this site in the first place is to find the people who want to scream with us. If you don't have those people, it can seem very very lonely. I get it.

"I definitely am experiencing a writers block and I can’t tell if its because it’s hurting me emotionally to keep writing stories that feel like they may be underwhelming to the fandom."

If you aren't in a good headspace, it's going to affect your ability to create. Period. ESPECIALLY when you're hurting emotionally. Feelings like those take up all the brain space, and I would never encourage anyone to force themselves to write while they feel like that. Give yourself some grace, be kind to yourself, and take a break from the site. I have many, many thoughts on this place and how it has a direct correlation to self esteem and self worth, and if you're feeling these things, I can tell you right now, it's this site. Take a break, my lovely ❤ I take them all the time when I get this way! They help immensely.

"I still love reading fics and am thinking of possibly just writing for myself but not posting anymore."

Honest to God, this is legitimately the only way to go. You HAVE to write for yourself, because if you don't, what are you writing for? The story is YOURS to tell. The characters are YOURS to shape. The ideas come from YOUR mind and YOUR heart. No one else can write it the way you do. Everyone wants interaction and yes, finding your community to share these personal things with makes it all the more fun and satisfying, but it HAS to start with you writing it for yourself.

This might not be true for everyone, but what keeps me motivated to write is exactly that: writing for myself. I think "what do I want to read", or "what do I want to share", or "what scenario do I want to explore" -- and the entire time, I am only considering myself as the audience. That way, when I do work on it and write it, it's all the more satisfying because I am the only one I am trying to please -- if that makes sense? If you wrote it for yourself and you are happy with it, then you have accomplished the greatest, hardest part about writing and you should be fucking PROUD. "I'm gonna give myself everything I've ever wanted" is the theme!

Sharing it with others is a privilege you extent to strangers, and if they don't take to it like you hope, the blow will be softened because you have this cushion of joy and contentment that you wrapped yourself in before sharing. ❤

If you feel like taking the time to write for yourself and not post, do it! What I typically find is that a break from this site allows your self esteem to build back up, which decreases the bad headspace, which allows you more room for creative thoughts, which lends itself to better (and happier) writing, which makes it easier at the end of the day to share with a nice hefty inner heart full of self confidence and worth, which makes everything easier. ❤

This is very long lol and I am SORRY -- I have a lot of opinions on this topic. If you want to chat more, DM me!

#write night: saturday version

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randomfoggytiger · 2 months

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Twenty questions for fanfic writers

Thank you for the tags, @baronessblixen, @xxsksxxx, and @slippinmickeys~!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

50 (ooh.)

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

47, 807

3. What fandoms do you write for?

The X-Files; and The Beauty and the Beast (1987), once.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

"Mr. Mulder, I Know Something About You"

"No More Paranormal than a Change of Wardrobe"

"Gold"

"The Next Chance"

"Celebration"

5. Do you respond to comments?

Yeppity yep!

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Discounting the fics that partially resolve their angst in a second part, I've got to go with "I'm Tired", "What Must a Mother Go Through?", "Latkes", or "Did You Really Have to Bring That Thing?"

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

At least 3/4s of 'em. Today's example will be "Time Passing in Moments” (still has a hold on my fuzzy feelings.)

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not yet-- I've seen it done to others, however.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Smut's not for me~

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

While opposed to crossovers on principle, I've written three-- ironic, I know, namely: my first ever fic Son of Egypt (Prince of Egypt lite), The Hospital Where You Slept (While You Were Sleeping lite), and "I Know You. It’s What I Do." (for @amplifyme, who introduced me to The Beauty and the Beast 1987 and went above and beyond to pass on resources and interest. Incredibly grateful.)

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Nope! Don't expect them to get stolen, either, unless they're multichapter pieces.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope! Not opposed, though.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Nope! I don't see it happening anytime soon, either, because my irl schedule is all over the place.

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

MSR-- objectively, as well as personally.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I have an idea blooming about reworking S8 in some way or form-- but there are already so many fics that tackle it from nearly every angle; so, I'll just reread those instead. (That, and I have to finish my S8 meta series; so....)

16. What are your writing strengths?

Pfffft... voice, I believe.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Characterization-- there's a reason I haven't created my own characters when writing, drawing, etc. ;)))

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

Not opposed; but I'd have to learn another language first.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Star Wars. Must have been in kindergarten or first grade.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

Proud of 'em all-- especially the reception to "Son of Egypt"-- but Bill Scully's POV ("Mr. Mulder, I Know Something About You" series) was such an unexpected... everything. That, and the discussion between Mulder and Scully in "My Religious Convictions Are Hardly the Issue Here" were wound around a POVs I wanted to tackle.

Tagging (if you want~): @welsharcher, @agent-troi, @numinousmysteries, @skelavender, @virtie333, @suitablyaggrieved, @nachosncheeze, @living-in-unreality, @aloysiavirgata, @cecilysass, @leiascully, @pennyserenade, @invidiosa, @settle-down-frohike, @piecesofscully, @thescullyphile, @p34chi, @incidental-ao3, @cock-holliday, @ragnarockz, @frogsmulder, @bakedbakermom, @cutelilcurtain, @dreamingofscully, @freckleslikestars, @amplifyme, @scullys-scalpel, @ghostbustermelanieking, @o6666666, @sigritandtheelves, @contrivedcoincidences6, @two-microscopes, @sixhours, @jessahmewren, @enigmaticdrblockhead, @wexleresque, @danascullysjournal, @seek-its-opposite, @frostbitepandaaaaa, @oohnotvery, @atths--twice, @thatfragilecapricorn30, @storybycorey, and anyone else!

#ask game #tagged #Twenty questions for fanfic writers #thanks for the @s everyone!

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mtreebeardiles · 7 months

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Fandom Questions

Ah! Got tagged by @theoriginalladya - Many thanks! I think I read this at like...some obscene hour in the early morning, passed back out, and promptly forgot about it til just now hahaha

Tagging let's see uhhh... @urdnotflexthejedibard @aleiocus @solstheimtxt @clericofshadows and uhhh @illusivesoul -- only if ya'll want to, of course!

How many works do you have on AO3? 50!

What's your total AO3 words count? 643,168

What fandoms do you write for? That have actually been posted: Mass Effect, Mass Effect: Andromeda, Cyberpunk: 2077, Dragon Age, Fallout 4, The Outer Worlds

What are your top 5 fics by kudos? Intangible Things (131) The Paths You Take (125) Biotic Theory (95) No Matter What (92) Stealing for Spite (92)

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? I try to! Even just an expression of gratitude, though I'm not averse to rambling hahaha

What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Hmm that's probably No Matter What, my in between fic for ME2 and ME3...

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Currently, gotta say Restoration (ME3/Post-ME3, mshepclone x Major Coats)

Do you get hate on fics? Hmm I don't think I'd qualify anything as "hate," but I have had readers express a dislike for a direction I seemed to be going in. Eh, what can ya do?

Do you write smut. If so what kind? I do! Generally not very explicit, and I'm a sucker for fluffy smut specifically. I love lovers being incredibly dorky together, and that includes in the bedroom.

Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written? Hahahah, yes. Stardew Effect is a crossover of Mass Effect and Stardew Valley that I'm surprised got a lot of positive reception haha

Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not to my knowledge

Have you ever had a fic translated? No

Have you ever cowritten a fic before? No. Original works, yes, but that was a while back, and never for fanfics.

What's your all-time favourite ship? I gotta pick ONE!? How about...one per my favorite fandoms...ME: mshenko, ME:A, mreyder, and Cyberpunk: m!V x Kerry

What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will? It's not a matter of doubt, it's a matter of getting my muses to be consistent. I'll get to all WIPs in due time, though some may be absorbed into other projects that better suit them

What are your writing strengths? I like to think I'm mechanically and stylistically pretty consistent?

What are your writing weaknesses? Plotting. Outlining. Like long-form, I just can't follow an outline to save my life

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? I've had some interjections of other languages (mostly Spanish, since I have some very very basic understanding there), but otherwise I don't think I could get the words to flow right if it wasn't primarily in my native language.

First fandom you wrote for? TECHNICALLY? Tortall. But I was like, 11 and idr what it was even about. More recently, Mass Effect.

Favourite fic you've ever written? Ahh that's hard! Restoration will always have a special place in my heart, but Chasing Storms had some really fun moments too in terms of writing in and of itself

#fandom questions #tag meme #my writing #had to really noodle on some of these haha

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burnin0akleaves · 3 months

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Hey! Sorry for popping in as anon, I'm genuinely not sure if some of the things I'm going to say are going to be nice, and I am a coward. But this is regarding you quitting to post in the RA fandom. If you consider my opinion on this as unwanted/unnecessary, do not feel obliged to reply. (Though I honestly think you never feel like that anyway)

I first saw your art when I joined the RA tag a while ago, and I thought to myself: 'Huh. Nice art, not my cup of tea though.' Since then, you have changed my mind. Your obsession with TRR Will and repeated posting about it not only has changed my thoughts on your art (I've really grown to like it) but also on the character of Will himself. I was on Reddit during that massive TRR Will hate phase and some of these posts had really tainted my view. You changed that and I am so grateful for that. Not seeing your art anymore will be sad, but I suppose my own lack of interaction is to blame for that. I made my bed so now I sleep in it. Your reaction to stop posting is justified and understandable, but that doesn't mean I'm not going to miss seeing your TRR Will on my dash.

Who knows what the RA movie (if it ever does come out) will do to this fandom, but I hope that new faces might get things swinging enough again for you to rejoin the fandom. Lastly, I have to say that for me, you've been a legend in this fandom, and will continue to be one, even if you focus on other things from now on.

Well hello there, this was unexpected. First of all thank you so much for taking the time out of your day to write to me! The reception to that post has been overwhelmingly positive even though it hasn't been up for that long and it makes me feel very glad I finally pushed myself to write that official goodbye message.

I don't know who you are and I don't really have any guesses, your message implies you didn't interact with my posts a lot so maybe I saw you around only a few times (?), but you have no idea how much this means to me. Throughout most of my time in the fandom my main goal was always to change people's minds about TRR and more specifically, TRR Will. I've heard that I succeeded many times and honestly, that was one of the biggest reasons I could keep myself so pumped up about a book series I read all the way back when I was in middle school (<- an adult saying this)

Seeing people go from "Cool post, not my thing though." to "Well I can kind of see what you mean when you say it like that." to "I agree, this does sound pretty good!" was both my biggest source of pride and motivator here. Hearing you say I changed your mind just now has the same effect on me, it almost makes me want to rush to my computer to draw or write about Will.

Also, extremely bold of you to say you didn't like my art at first motherfucker /j

Speaking seriously though, my art style practically grew here. When I first joined the fandom I was NOT good; hell, I can't look past anything before July of last year still. Maybe it was just me improving artistically that helped you warm up to my stuff more. I really really hope the new artists have that kind of experience too! You get obsessed with a little guy and then your brain decides to level up as fast as possible. TRR Will is that little guy for me.

Your last words are so, so kind. The way you speak about me here in general is extremely kind. I'm glad I was able to leave a good impression. And you're right, maybe all I need is a break and when I come back this space will feel more fitting again.

Like I said, I still have lots of connections to this fandom via others. I'm still technically helping out with the Gathering stuff, so maybe I'll work on doing a prompt or two still! I'm also a mod in the NSFW server and I love that place, I'm not leaving it anytime soon. If more TRR books come out you can bet I won't be able to shut up about them anyway, if I don't make at least one post then assume I'm dead.

What I'm trying to say is, I'll be around! Our paths will cross again.

PS: The entirety of the RA subreddit can suck my dick. I'm gatekeeping older, experienced Will from all of them. None of them deserve him.

#sorry for how long this got #wanted it to feel like a chat with everyone since i dont know how many people will stick around or for how long #talking to my audience one last time /j #🍂 textpost

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foxcort · 5 months

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2023 AO3 Year-End Fic Review

thank you for tagging me @praetorqueenreyna 💚🤗

What is your AO3 account?

foxcort @ ao3, but im also gonna link my account on squideworld (which has nothing rn but im going to start posting there instead and its got about the same vibe as ao3)

2. How many words did you write total in 2023?

i wrote 10773 words and it was all for acotar!

3. How many fics did you publish in 2023? How many multichapters vs oneshots?

i wrote 6 fics for the entire year (which is surprisingly more than i originally thought!), 5 of which were oneshots and 1 of which was a collection of drabbles. im hoping to start writing at least 1 multichapter in 2024

4. What was your longest fic? Your shortest fic?

my longest was a heart of scales and storms at 2785 words, which was a feylin mermay oneshot and my shortest was spring memories at 714 words, which was the first fic i contributed to this fandom (and one that has a very special place in my heart)

5. What was your most popular fic? Your least popular fic?

comforter was my most popular fic at 447 hits and my least popular was a court of ice and fire at 43 hits, which is completely understandable considering its an oddly specific au and the only chapter i have posted is tamlin-centric, but i still love the idea and hope my muse can come around to contributing more to it this year!

6. What fic didn't perform as well as you thought it would?

hmm maybe a heart of scales and storms? the statistics show that it only got 53 hits, but i still remember the comments i got for that fic and @haniaaaaaaaaaaa drew ✨this✨ beautiful art piece inspired by it! so from the reception the fic garnered it feels like it should have more than 53 hits but honestly i had so much fun writing it and i remember smiling so wide my face hurt for days after bc of the comments/artwork that it didn’t feel like it didn’t perform well (as far as hits go)!

7. What fic performed way better than you thought it would?

oh wildfire at 192 hits (this is a lot for me lol), which was an erisweek entry and the first time i ever attempted writing from his pov. honestly i don’t expect any of my character-centric stuff to take off, so i was pleasantly surprised at how it performed!

8. What was your favorite fic you wrote in 2023?

most probably comforter, more specifically the neslin chapter. i’ve had this super angsty, acosf divergence multichaptered neslin idea in my head for a while now, but i suck at long term fic planning and like most people i want to jump right into writing the interesting parts of it, so the neslin chapter was a scene from that idea and i felt so happy writing it and getting into the mindsets of nesta and tamlin in that au.

9. What was your favorite fic that somebody else wrote in 2023?

definitely rosemary by @bittermuire (thank god for this survey because in my effort to link the fic i realized ITS BEEN UPDATED!!! and as i read through it, i became even more convinced this was 100% my most favorite fic of 2023 💚) honestly, anything muire writes has me immediately hooked, but its the characterizations of the archeron sisters in particular that are so special to me. especially in rosemary. it also happens to be an october/fall fic, which are bonuses and pluses as far as im concerned. if you love the archeron sisters, give rosemary a read. if you need more convincing, allow me to provide one of my favorite quotes from the fic—

Lucien Vanserra watched her leave, his heart threatening to give out, and cursed himself a thousand times. Then another thousand times. Then, drowning in table salt, dreaming of her hair, thinking of getting himself a few sessions of therapy, he decided he would not, could not possibly, let her go. / rosemary (ch.1) by iriy @ ao3

honorable mention to plus 4 by firenaition @ ao3, because this is a fic i read at least once every month, a fic that i've shown and begged my rl siblings to read and quite possibly my favorite azulaang/atla fic of all time

10. Tag your friends to have them do this year-end fic review as well!!

if you haven’t done it already and you want to, do it! and tag me too, i love reading these!

#dash games

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dakotafinely · 2 years

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Mmm, We Should Talk About LFLS's Effect On Fandom

I know a lot of people may not want to hear this, but I think it needs to be addressed. To make myself clear: This is not about LFLS's quality or @eternalglitch writing ability. Their story became a fandom staple for a reason and I respect and understand that. This critism is mostly towards fandom then it is on anything else. This is not to tear down another person's story, this is purely to discuss what that story did to change Rise Fandom's view and how it treats content creators, writers and artists alike, drastically differently.

So, this post all starts with this tweet by glitch herself:

Which really just sparked my need to talk about this. And to put it bluntly, this tweet feels condescending, in the idea that anyone can just "write what they want" and become fandom famous from it. Which, is technically true, I mean, it worked for Glitch. If you ignore factors like Leo being the fan favorite (with Donnie as a close second) and Like Father Like Son being a popular idea amongst fandom even BEFORE glitch created the story. Meaning a lot of people gravitate to their fics (and fics like them) more. Not to mention Glitch, if you're seeing this, YOU are the one who made Leo AU's popular. Also, from what I understand people who are "complaining" about having content focused a lot on Leo aren't trying to ruin the fun or say people can't make content. They're pointing out an issue that is affecting content and fandom for the rest of the people in tmnt spaces who are left out and pushed to the side or over looked because of fandom and it's treatment of those outside of their shared ideas/characters. Like with Leo and Donnie being twins and how that is a "universally shared opinion" with everyone in fandom or that Raph and Mikey are both black coded characters.

Honestly it's the idea that just writing what you want to see worked for them so it should therefore work for everyone else as tho there aren't people who do write whatever they want and just get different results. I'm not saying Glitch didn't earn their popularity in fandom. As a fellow writer I know how much work they put in for each chapter and they ABSOLUTELY deserve recognition for that. Just there are more factors to being a popular writer then just "writing what you want" and getting popular from that. And there's nothing wrong with encouraging others to write but you can't just ignore the factors that made your particular work popular in the first place. It's setting people's exceptions of fandom incorrectly, and not to mention brushing other creators under the rug entirely.

And I don't just mean writers either. This effects artists as well, while I don't have a lot of recalls from many people. I have talked to someone who shared their own art, and has made LFLS art. Their fanart for glitches work STILL gets notes and reblogs to this day. While most of their art not related to that fanfic may only get rare hearts but no reblogs.

Glitch, your work, unintentionally, has poisoned the water for the rest of us content creators. And tho I understand that you had no intention of doing that, you cannot be unaware of those consequences when people go around "complaining" that there aren't as many fics for the other turtles, or other rottmnt characters period. And I want you to be aware I am not saying you are obligated to consume or create content you don't want to see. But you are a large content creator in this fandom, you must understand your experience with sharing content and it's reception is drastically different from the rest of us.

And people who consume LFLS, you guys need to do what you do for glitches work on other content creators works that you love. Reblogging, sharing, talking about them, engage with the writers, and (if you are compelled to) create fanart for them. Leo AU's are so frequent because a lot of people think that's what the fandom wants and while many of us may make content that aren't Leo centric. Many can become discouraged and abandon/not even share their fic ideas because they believe they'll just be pushed to the way side. You're not bad people for consuming a popular work, but if you want more diverse work you have to put the effort in letting content creators know that you're enjoying it. Nobody should be writing with the sole purpose of getting attention and popularity. But that doesn't mean people should feel like they're wasting their efforts sharing their works.

Point is, unintentionally, LFLS made a very large imbalance within the Rise Fandom for content creators. Which can only truly be remedied by people sharing and caring about works that aren't LFLS that they want to see by other authors/artists they enjoy.

If you want a place to start, or want an example of how to hype up content creators you like, I already made a Writers Appreciation Post that has a nice list of fics I personally recommend!

#rottmnt #rot tmnt #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt fanfiction #rottmnt like father like son #rottmnt lfls #rottmnt au #I just feel every passionate about this #and I feel like it needs to be addressed #this was in no way to tear glitch down or make them feel guilty #pls don't take it that way

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