#it would make posting on ao3 through mobile easier

[slowandsteddie]

Lazy Petals

AO3

Okay. This work is NOT completed. I cannot guarantee an update schedule because only the first chapter is completed. However, I DO have everything plotted out (assuming it doesn’t get a mind of its own) and the goal is to be 50k+ words.

This story is very personal to me. I’ve taken my grandparents love/live story and made it Steddie. The characters are going to be OOC. Just letting you know right off the bat in case that is something you aren’t interested in. Also, this is a No Upsidedown AU.

My grandparents were immediately obsessed with each other, but didn’t date until after they had graduated high school. Which means that while this isn’t a slow burn, it is going to be slower than the stuff I usually write.

I don’t want to give too, too much stuff away. There there is a post where I described the main highlights and asked your opinion on reading it. There is also a poll where I asked if I should start posting before it was finished, and I got a pretty definite yes.

I saved the divider that I plan on using for this series back when I first started talking about it. I have since lost my note that told me whom to give credit to. If you know who made it (or know how to find that information on mobile!!) please let me know.

I think that’s enough of a preamble. Without further ado, here be the CW’s and the first 3,489 words.

Content Warnings: Steve was hit by a car and in a full body cast for over a year - he makes a bowling joke about it, his parents are very distant, his grandparents got very distant after his injury and he doesn’t understand why, Wayne is very careful while babysitting to make sure that no one can accuse him of being inappropriate, mentions of his mom overmedicating him so he’s easier to deal with, mentions of how weak he got from being in the cast. And as always, let me know if I missed anything.

Steve didn’t remember much about that night.

His mother said that it was a blessing and refused to fill in any blanks for him under any circumstances.

His father, however, if he had drunk enough whiskey, would look at the six year old Steve as though he were a much older man and sigh before telling him anything he wanted to know.

Which meant that Steve knew that the car that hit him swerved in order to do so. (He didn’t know if the lady in the little blue car did it on purpose, or if she was a distracted driver. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to know that.) He knew that she had to have been going over forty miles per hour because the impact sent him flying at least a dozen feet before he slammed into that bus stop. He knew that the driver kept going and that at least half a dozen people ran to his aid and that one of the women had screamed because he was unconscious and she was so certain that he was dead. His little body was so broken and bloody and they couldn’t see him breathe.

He also knew that his father got to his hospital room before his mother, sweat pouring down the older male’s body as though he had showered in his clothes because he had run there from work. His mother showed up over twenty minutes later, all put together like she had taken the time to clean herself up before appearing. Something his father wasn’t sure if he could forgive her for. (This was one of the few times that his father would express just how much that he loved Steve, and he would carry that warmth with him forever.)

He knew that they had to revive him four times, that they had done twelve surgeries, that they had put him in a full body cast because nearly every bone in his body had been broken, including parts of his spine. He knew that his parents had been told that he would likely never walk again. He knew that a specialist had pulled his father aside to inform him that his brain wouldn’t develop normally after all of the trauma that it had been through after being smacked around in his skull. They’d have to be careful, and that they’d have to understand if he never progressed much past the age that he was now. That he could be in his fifties and still acting five and that there was nothing that could be done beyond what they had already done – remove a small part of bone behind his ear to help relieve the pressure and pray for the best while preparing for the worst.

And, while he couldn’t remember the absolute agony that he must have been in. He did have the descriptions that he used to tell his father. That there was lava in his veins and his bones were shards of ice cold glass threatening to tear him apart completely. His father had only told him that part once, with tears in his eyes. “There wasn’t anything I could do to help you, boy. I couldn’t take the pain away. I would have died to save you even a fraction of that.”

That was one of the few times that he could remember his dad hugging him. He had been so careful and gentle while pressing his face into his hair. He inhaled deeply and he cried. And Steve had done his best to hug him back despite the plaster that made it near-impossible to move his arms at all.

At first, Steve had thought that it was really cool to be stuck in bed all the time. He didn’t have to do anything. That got boring within a week and he still had at least a year ahead of him where he was meant to stay in bed unless he was in the bathroom or at a doctor’s appointment.

Even eating in bed, something that had once been unacceptable and even punishable before, lost its novelty pretty quickly.

He liked having his mom read him notes from the teacher and his classmates. He liked her reading him his homework assignments and writing down his answers for him so that he would still be on track. It made him feel like an important man, like his dad was going to be, with a secretary.

The thing is, though, that he really missed going outside. He missed playing in the woods outside of the trailer park where he lived. He missed going to his grandparents house with the pool and the stairs that he’d probably never be able to walk again. He could climb them, though, after the cast was removed. He was pretty sure. He might not have a lot of muscle left at that point, but that would just mean that he was lighter and had less to have to move anyway.

When Steve brought that up to his mother, her lips would turn into a very tight, thin line and something he couldn’t name would flash in her eyes. “You are not going to go to that house any time soon, young man. It’s best to let those ideas go.”

“But I miss Grandma Marty and Grandpa Pete, and they won’t come here,” he whined.

“The Harrington’s won’t come to the trailer park and you know that.”

“We’re Harrington’s too,” he’d say defiantly.

She’d leave the room at that. Effectively ending an argument that they had had multiple times before. But what else did Steve have to talk about? He didn’t really have anyone else to talk to either, other than their neighbor that he had taken to calling Mister Wayne.

Wayne was probably a few years older than his dad and lived alone in a trailer that had always seemed so lively despite the quiet man who lived in it. He always had the tv or the radio on when he was home and Steve lived for that. Because his window was always cracked open for the breeze, which meant the sound could drift to him as well.

It was better than the quiet of his house that only seemed to get broken up with arguments and slamming doors. He was so used to it, but he still flinched every time and did his best to pull the blanket over his head as though that would muffle the sounds.

Sometimes, Wayne would come to his window and read him a book that his own nephew liked. The Hobbit. Steve fell in love with the adventure of it, and Wayne never seemed to mind reading him the same book over and over, a few pages at a time while he smoked.

More often than not, Wayne was the one who came over to babysit once he noticed that Steve had been left alone. He never once complained about it, never once gave someone else the chance despite all the ladies who would come over with food. And wine for his mom, when they could spare it.

Sometimes, Wayne would talk about his nephew. He was a scrawny kid, a few years older than Steve, named Eddie. Had a dark mop of long curly hair, and eyes that always seemed to have mischief in them. They’d like each other, Wayne was pretty sure, and he’d introduce them the next time that Eddie came to visit.

Steve would want to ask when that would be, but he never did. He had Mister Wayne and that was more than enough for him. His dad was staying later at the office, trying to prove that he deserved that promotion that would get them the hell out of the trailer park, without his parents' money. His mother was getting into yoga and book clubs, and Steve was being left alone a lot. Because, what kind of trouble could he get into when he was stuck in bed? Besides, the neighbors could hear if he shouted for anything and Wayne seemed very invested in making sure that he was okay.

Steve never knew why the older man made sure that his curtains were always wide open and that his light was on so that others could see that he was reading to him, or talking with him, from a chair that was always at least three feet away. Maybe it was so they would know he wasn’t alone? He wasn’t going to ask about it, not wanting to chance scaring away the one adult who never raised his voice at him, who never abandoned him when things got hard like his grandparents seemed to.

Months went by like this. His parents not being home, his grandparents not even calling about him, and Wayne doing his best to fill in the difference despite his own job. The other neighbors would come on occasion, but Steve was very sullen with them where he would laugh with Wayne. That didn’t deter them from coming over as he would have liked, and begrudgingly he found himself becoming friendly with a few of them.

It was the beginning of summer when Steve was finally able to get the casts removed. His father took him to the appointment, and he tried to not be disappointed that his mother wasn’t there at first. By the time he was wheeled out to the front of the office, though, his mother was sitting where his father had been.

He did his best to not look at himself. He was pale and scrawny and kind of stinky from not being able to wash himself properly because of all the plaster that had basically covered him for over a year. Most of his bones had healed great, according to the doctor. He wouldn’t know because he still hadn’t looked.

His father came back from wherever he had been, paid the bill with tight lips, and then took Steve out to the car. His mother helped him into the seat before covering him with a blanket that he was grateful for. It wasn’t that he was cold, he just didn’t want the chance to look at himself yet. He wanted to do that when he was home, where if he broke down and cried, no one else would know. Or, he wouldn’t have to see them knowing in any case. And that was enough for him.

They stopped for ice cream on the way and Steve asked for a small strawberry cone. Strawberry wasn’t his favorite, but it was what Grandma Marty had all the time, and he missed her even though she didn’t acknowledge him anymore. Wouldn’t answer his calls, wouldn’t call him back. He didn’t even know if she got the letters that Wayne had helped him write.

When they got home, Wayne wasn’t home. Not for the first time, Steve found himself deeply upset by that. He’d never voice it. Adults had responsibilities outside of him. And he knew that he only got about an hour with Wayne a day, maybe two if he was incredibly lucky.

His father came to help him out of the car, because he had more muscle if Steve should happen to fall. He clung to his father’s arm with all the strength that could muster as he walked like a baby giraffe toward their trailer. Well, he called it walking. It was more like wiggling his lower spine and hips while throwing his legs forward. After maybe five steps like that, he found himself being lifted into his father’s impatient arms as he was carried the rest of the way in and sat on the couch.

“Thank you,” Steve said instead of complaining about not being able to use his legs. He had wanted to walk, to prove that he could.

His father simply grunted in response before going to the kitchen to grab a drink. The same way he always did when he was home for the night.

His mother was inside a few minutes behind them, having stopped to talk to a neighbor briefly. She looked at Steve on the couch and tilted her head at him with a calculating look in her eyes.

“Would you like a bath?”

“Yes, please.”

This time, Steve did get to walk on his own two feet to the destination. He was leaning heavily on the wall, almost gripping on to it with one hand as he practically threw himself forward. He was breathless by the time that he got to the bathroom and pain seemed to radiate out through his entire body, starting at his tail bone.

“You can have some meds after your bath,” his mother said gently. “And I’ll get you your refill before dinner, okay? So you don’t have to worry about running out.”

Steve didn’t think it was time to refill his medicine yet, but he didn’t question it. His mom was on top of it. He was a kid who lost track of time a lot.

He sat on the toilet and he watched his mom prepare the bath for him, knowing that she would only let him have the water a little above room temperature. His skin was sensitive and the steam wouldn’t be good for him with the medicine that he was taking. He couldn’t even have hot food without the steam making him nauseous.

Carefully, he was pulled back to his feet and stripped of his clothes before he was helped into the tub that seemed to be more bubble than water. He sat down carefully, wincing a bit as he did so, before letting himself lean back in the water that felt warmer than it probably was because of his weakened, cool skin.

He sighed in contentment as his mother washed his body for the first time in what seemed like years. He was nearing seven years old and thinking about years in the past, it would make his dad laugh if he shared that thought with him, an idea that made him smile.

His mom washed his hair, tilting his head back and using a hand to make sure that no soap got in his eyes that he had squeezed tight. He got to play in the bubbles for a few minutes, his dad standing at the door as his mom got him some comfy clothes and a towel.

It was his dad who dried him off and helped him get into his clothes.

“Thank you, Daddy,” he said softly. He knew he was expected to thank his dad for everything he did that was above and beyond, which meant he ended up thanking him for everything.

Steve was carried back to his bed, something that he would have whined about if he wasn’t so tired and in so much pain. He was tucked in and his mom came to give him some toast and juice to take his pills with. He knew he was only meant to have one, but he took both that his mother gave him anyway. He washed it away with grape juice and half of the slice of toast she had brought him.

“Thank you, Mommy,” he murmured.

“Get some rest, love,” she replied while kissing his forehead. “You had a big day today.”

Steve nodded in agreement, wishing that it could be that easy to just let the sleep overtake him. He closed his eyes as his mom left the room.

His father checked on him once a day, his mother gave him two pills instead of one, and made sure he at least had breakfast and dinner. One of the neighbors made sure he had lunch and new puzzles to work on, new toys to play with. Steve would wander around the trailer as best as he was able, and Wayne would read to him before he went to bed.

Days turned to weeks like that.

One day, Wayne wasn’t at work and both of Steve’s parents were gone. He wandered over to his bedroom window and opened it wide.

“Mister Wayne, if I can get to the front door, can you help me out?”

His walking was still unsteady and stairs were very difficult for him.

“Are your parents okay with you being outside?” Wayne asked sympathetically.

“Uh. Dad said I could as long as I either finished my puzzle or put it up first.”

Wayne gave him a knowing look. “Okay, you little hellion. But only because I know you’d hurt yourself trying to do it anyway.”

Steve beamed and closed his window most of the way before making his way to the front door. It was a struggle to unlock the door because of the latch chain, but he managed. Wayne was waiting there for him with an unlit cigarette hanging between his lips.

“Getting outside used to be easier,” he sighed before reaching out.

“Maybe it’s the weight of knowing that you’re doing something you shouldn’t be,” Wayne teased as he picked Steve up and set him back down on the ground.

“No idea what that means, but thank you for helping me pass the stairs.” Steve grinned widely, the dirt and grass squishing slightly beneath his toes. It felt so good.

“You’re welcome, brat.”

Steve giggled before doing his version of walking. He took maybe ten steps, very much aware of how closely he was being watched. His breath came a little harder from the effort, the times between walking so close together. Shakily, he sat down as carefully as he was able. Movement caught his attention and made his head snap up to look toward Wayne’s trailer.

“You gotta ghost!” He exclaimed.

Wayne laughed at that, shaking his head. “That’s the nephew I’ve been telling you about. He’s staying with me for awhile. Treat him like a skittish cat until he’s used to ya, and I’m sure y’all would be good friends.”

“Eddie,” Steve said happily. “Can he come out so I can meet him?”

“I’ll send him out after I smoke my cigarette,” he said as he put more distance between them before lighting up.

“Thank you!”

Steve laid down flat on the grass, spreading his arms and legs out as much as he could without the pain becoming unbearable. It wasn’t very far, but he didn’t care. He got to grip the green strands in his fingers. He got to feel the light and heat of the sun soaking into his skin and settling into his bones. He was beyond convinced that the bright yellow thing in the sky was much more healing than the meds that made him feel tingly from his head to his toes.

He must have fallen asleep like that, because next thing he knew he was being awoken by a toe nudging his shoulder. His eyes flashed open and he was met by the most dark, beautiful brown eyes he had ever seen.

“Uncle Wayne said you just got released from the mummy’s curse.”

“He said that?”

“Well. He said your name was Steve and you just got a full body cast removed a few weeks ago.”

“That sounds more like him.”

“So…What happened?”

“A lady tried to go bowling with me and her car. The only pin she knocked down was me.”

Eddie snorted. “Shoulda planted your feet more firmly, she woulda gotten a strike.”

Steve’s lips tugged into the widest smile that he had ever had on his face. “My parents don’t like it when I joke about it.”

“Parents are stupid.”

“Yeah. How long are you stayin’?”

“As long as I can.”

Steve hummed in thought. “You any good at reading out loud?”

“Depends. What book?”

“The Hobbit.”

Eddie’s entire face lit up, his huge smile showing off the chipped front tooth. “My favorite book in the entire world? Yeah, I’m pretty good at reading it out loud.”

“We should read to each other. I have troubles with some words, but I am trying.”

“I’d like having someone to read and play with.”

“Oh, uh. Playing is hard for me right now. I’m still trying to get my strength back.”

“It’s okay. We read The Hobbit, we gotta have a pretty good imagination. We can pretend to play.”

Steve blushed and looked away. He never had someone his own age willing to work around his limitations before.

“I heard about a game with dice where we can talk out stuff and the dice decide how well it goes,” Steve said suddenly.

“Dungeons and Dragons!” Eddie apparently decided that he was tired of standing because he flopped down next to him at that. He rolled around in the grass before eventually settling on his side, propping his head up on his hand. “I can find a way to make that work with just two people.”

“Oh.”

“Turn that frown upside down, friend. I like a challenge. We’ll make this work because it sounds like fun.”

Steve beamed.

Taglist (let me know if you want added or removed! I was just trying to get who I remembered to seem interested!):

@estrellami-1 @eriquin @epiclazershark @morganski-19 @ellaelsinore @y4r3luv @valinwonderland @thespaceantwhowrites @jackiemonroe5512 @spectrum-spectre @princessstevemunson @ghost--enthusiast @gothwifehotchner @kas-eddie-munson @auroraplume @salisbury-at-the-stake @currently-steddiebrainrot @finntheehumaneater @marshmellowpaint @littlewildflowerkitten @perseus-notjackson @sapphirecobalt-1 @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @gloomysoup @anne-bennett-cosplayer

#stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve stranger things #eddie stranger things #steve x eddie #taking my grandparents love story and making it steddie #grandparents love story #lazy petals #no upside down au #read the cw #car accident aftermath #mention of medical abuse #let me know if i missed anything

[starwrighter]

I am not a baby!! (Yes you are)

(Ao3) (Masterpost) (Previous) (Next)

(Chapter thirteen)

Gone with one issue on to the next, post haste! It was like this year was pelting him with problem after problem. Of course, a quantum destination would be the next space on his bingo card of disasters! Why wouldn’t it be?! If there’s one thing the universe would never give him it was a break. That nap was a curse! He made up for too much of the sleep he’d lost back home. Now, there was karma to pay for those extra few hours of sleep. 

Granted, he felt better than yesterday, but was it worth the quantum detonation? Temptation says yes but logical thinking says no. Logical thinking also said nothing he could’ve done would’ve prevented the damage to the drive core. It would have already started to degrade from seawater pouring in before he even got there. It was nice to know this one thing wasn’t his fault, but it wouldn’t soothe the anxiety of knowing the Aurora was going to explode.

The damage a drive core from a ship the Aurora’s size could cause would be catastrophic. The radiation alone was a planet-ending event. Could he prevent this with his limited access to his powers? There were no blueprints for a radiation suit in his PDA and he doubts he could make one himself. Building what was essentially a hazmat divesuit strong enough to protect him from the lethal doses of radiation the aurora was dishing out wasn’t the same as building a table. Did he still have any kind of immunity to radiation? 

Regardless, he’s a Fenton! He got irradiated for breakfast! 

Swimming back to his base, Danny began pilfering through his storage. If he’s even going to try attempting to stop a quantum detonation, a seamoth would be helpful. Not only did it sound cool as hell, it’d make traversing through the waters a piece of cake! Only… The blueprints wasn’t there and data corruption was to blame. Cursing, Danny collapsed to the floor, scrolling desperately through all the blueprints over and over again. He’d regained the blueprint for the mobile vehicle bay, but there was no amount of tampering that’d give him the Seamoth. The mobile vehicle bay was useless without a vehicle! 

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Danny decided this was the perfect time to check the radio. Any information concerning the rendevuos would be a life saver!

Swimming back to his pod, a cloud of rot spilled into the ocean. The foul odor of the remaining goo assaulted his nostrils. Nausea bubbled in his stomach, bile crawling up his throat. He crawled back into the pod. They say the smell of human decomposition was one the human body was hardwired to recognize and Danny could now say with confidence that rotting halfa was the same. Even if he’d been completely unaware of the lifepod’s contents the smell alone sent a shiver down his spine. It was easier to dissociate the pile of goo on the floor before it’d decomposed to this extent. Dried blood stained the floor any green that’d been there was gone without a trace.

This…This would be a gruesome site for whoever was going to collect the life pods after this was over. It’s a difficult scene for him to see for ancient's sake! It was funny to think that despite the horrid smell and blood, he’d rather have found something like this in Lifepod 3. Bodies, or at least more than a PDA entry to prove someone was here! He’d perfer finding blood and rot than have the dead be forgotten so easily. They’d died within the meager three hours Danny had been unconscious, and been torn into by local wildlife until nothing remained before anyone could respond to their distress signal.

Tearing his eyes away from the puddle, Danny sucked in a deep breath, regretting it instantly as putrid air filled his lungs. His PDA screamed, biohazard warnings taking over the screen, begging him to leave. With a shake of his head, Danny covered his nose with his hand toddling towards the radio. The device was flashing and Danny couldn’t hit a play button harder than he had today. 

“Playing pre-recorded distress call…” Waiting on his tippy toes Danny stared at the device with hope-filled eyes as a human voice sounded through the pod.

“This is Ozzy from the cafeteria. What the hell guys?! They didn’t warn us this might happen!” Danny’s heart sank as the message continued.

“Our pod was almost crushed by the seamoth bay on the way down, now we’re hanging on the edge of a cave system and this grim-looking snake thing’s trying to eat through the hull! Come get us already!” 

Saying that didn’t sound good would’ve been an understatement. How many hours had it been since this message was sent? A grim-looking snake thing? He has someone like that outside. Chances were they weren’t talking about the same snake thing.

 Dami has a snake-like body, but he resembles more of a dragon or a sea serpent…Dami hadn’t even made an attempt to hurt Danny or his little base. Sure, he scratched the glass but Danny had a feeling those claws were capable of much worse. Trust was a strong word to use when talking about a giant sea monster but Danny was confident Dami wouldn’t freak out and try to kill him for no reason.

All he’d done since seeing him was give reason after reason to kill him! Honestly, Dami just seems confused by his existence, but to be fair Danny is too. Logically he should be permanently dead, erased from every plane of existence but something gave him a third chance at life. Now he’s everyone’s problem!

Updating the signal to his PDA Danny crawled back out the lifepod, a signal to follow and materials to gather.

@ashoutinthedarkness @avelnfear @meira-3919 @thought-u-said-dragon-queen @hugsandchaos @blep-23 @zeldomnyo @bytheoldwillowtree @justwannabecat @shepherdsheart @starlightcat04 @stargazing-bookwyrm @pupstim @dragongoblet @noxcheshire

#Idk how Danny's going to fit in the seamoth #subnautica au #dp x dc #dpxdc #dc x dp #dcxdp

[bwabbitv3s]

Good Godfather Vlad AU Index

Hey. So I did not expect so many people to really like this Idea I had. Or that it would be more than a oneshot. To make it a little easier to find the posts I am creating this Index post that people can subscribe to. (How to subscribe to a post instructions at end of post) I will reblog a link to the next parts once they are up on this post. They will still have their own posts but now you can find them easier. That way no one needs to be tagged to keep up with it or I miss someone by accident. This is a fairly irregular updated fic as it is one of my first ones I am actually sharing. So there are a few growing pains in how best to do this.

The beginning of Good Godfather Vlad, Part 1.

Ice Machines and Fudge, Part 2

Brunch, Part 3

Concerns and Realizations, Part 4

You are not Alone, Part 5

Lingering Memories and Future Plans, Part 6

All the wonderful people that asked to be tagged from the posts. Here is the post to subscribe to so the @ will not be done starting on the part 5 update.

~Just Updated~

Good Godfather Vlad is not official up on AO3!

@kaitouhime @krzys2000 @moobloomrights @spooky-fm @undead-essence @theblackcatscratchpost

That out of the way. How to subscribe to a post if you don't know how below the cut.

On desktop in the top right hand corner of a post there is three dots. Click that to bring up a menu, click subscribe to conversation. This will now send you a notification for the post when stuff happens.

On mobile in the bottom left corner tap on the notes. Now this will bring you to the notes. In the top right corner there now is a bell icon with a slash through it. Tap this to turn on the subscription to the post. The icon should now no longer have a slash through the bell. You will now get a notification when stuff happens.

#danny phantom #good godfather vlad #good godfather vlad au #dp au #danny phantom au #index post for the fic #I hope this makes it easier to find the next parts. #I did not think to just reblog the next part #no I had to make separate posts for them

[wastingstarsss]

So, if you haven’t seen on discord, we’ve decided to start a new lil hobby in this wonderful community. Welcome to Rumbelle Weekly Drabbles!! Oo I’m excited 🥳 . The task is as followed: send in your prompts, and then we’ll use those prompts to write a 100 word Drabble each week. I’m not entirely sure how this is done in other fandoms, but I’m taking the reins for this in this one. So I’m thinking, if you guys send in your prompts through the ask box, I’ll shuffle them up and make a list, and then that can be our prompt list for the month! And once this list has been completed, I’ll post it here on my account so it’s an easy find for anyone who wants to join in. We’ll use the tag: #rumbelleweeklydrabbles -and be sure to let me know if you want me to tag you in any posts! When people post their drabbles, I’ll share them on here and add them to the tag, so they’re all in one place- and that goes for if you post them on tumblr or ao3.

Prompts can be anything btw- a word, a phrase, a song, an image, a theme. Go nuts ❤️

Have fun! Write, write, write. And send in your prompts!! I’m going to set the deadline as the 8th January, to give you all a week for the prompts to be given in. Once they’re given in, there will not be a deadline for drabbles to be written, so just have fun with it ❤️ I’ll be joining in too.

Not to be confused with @a-monthly-rumbelling which is still up and running!!! And I fully support the account, and would love to join in if I could. Real life gets in the way of doing fics these days, and I personally find drabbles easier to do when I’ve got a lot going on. Hence why I’m excited about this project. BUT AMR is not stopping at all, and I fully encourage you to go join it ❤️

(Also just to let you guys know, I’m doing this all on mobile cause I fucking hate tumblr on desktop. Idk if this will get in the way of any formatting or what, but it’s just something to keep in mind.)

#rumbelleweeklydrabbles #rumbelle #rumbelle gif #belle french #Rumplestiltskin

[freckliedan]

Heyyyy I was wondering if you have any Dan mpreg fics you’d recommend? I was trying to search thru your blog bc I feel like I remember you recommending some but you know how the search function is

i tag things pretty consistantly (especially so with mpreg bc i know it can be upsetting for some trans people) so you can always find specific posts on my blog by looking at the tag in question!

the url for that would be: https://freckliedan.tumblr.com/tagged/TAG . in this scenario it'd be /tagged/mpreg or /tagged/fic%20rec — %20 is how you indicate a space in the body of the tag, but if you still use chrome then you can just do a space and it autofills the %20.

even if you're a mobile user rather than a desktop user, it is still easier to find specific posts thru this method or by looking through blogs' archives! it doesn't work on every blog because some don't have desktop themes enabled, which is sad bc the filters on the archive function is hands down the easiest way to find specific posts. you can filter by month/tag/post type/

all that said! i do not have any phan mpreg fics bookmarked though i know i've read some before. i can reccomend let me make something beautiful by huphilpuffs for intentional family planning adjacent to mpreg though!

last note! are you familiar with search optimization on ao3? because if not come back and tell me so so i can walk you through how i'd go about finding fics to fulfill this niche!

#jam replies #anon #fic rec #mpreg

[thelucyverse]

I found out more about the Ao3 bookmark search - the best way to find fic recs, fanfics on other less searchable sites, and to organize your own bookmarks!

My initial post explaining what this is can be found here, now here's what else I learned:

While in the normal work search, selecting 'complete works only' is part of the normal, clickable filtering system, that part is missing in the bookmark search, and seeing just lots of incomplete works as many people bookmark wips to get update emails frustrated me for ages - now I found a workaround!

In the filter section (see first post), below the include and exclude stuff in the 'More' section, you can find the field "search within results"

Typing "complete: true" here will show you only completed works! The opposite would be "complete: false" for WIPs only.

The same also works for a bunch of different stuff:

if you're looking at your own bookmarks page, "private: true" shows you only the bookmarks hidden from the public

"restricted: true" is for works only visible for archive users, "restricted: false" of course the opposite (useful for example if you want to send someone who doesn't have an Ao3 account some fic recs)

"bookmarkable_type: Series" to not get bookmarks of individual works but only of series

You have to be exact in the spelling here, even making sure the empty space is there and the capital letters are correct, otherwise it will error and show 0 works!

You can combine several of them with an empty space - no comma! - for example to get only finished series under "bookmarkable_type: Series complete: true"

And then, this one is particularly genius to get new fic recs of stories you wouldn't otherwise find on Ao3 at all: "bookmarkable_type: ExternalWork" is for bookmarks of stories not posted to the archive but for example ff.net or livejournal!

Yes, there are bookmarks like that on there, and you can add your own bookmarks of non-ao3 fics on your bookmarks page - "bookmark external work", you then just have to add the url and copy the summary etc!

If the fic doesn't have a proper summary, feel free to add your own summary in the 'notes' section so people have an idea what it is about, just leave the actual summary the way the author put it on the site they posted it to.

The more info and especially tags you add, the easier it is for people to find the fic rec later! As you can only add 'relationship' and 'character' tags for the actual bookmark, adding more things like the tropes of the fic etc to the 'your tags' section helps here. This means that when you are searching through 'bookmarkable_type: ExternalWork', to filter the results further you need to add tags in the 'bookmarkers tags' field (see top of first screenshot, marked green), not to the work tags sections.

I found most of this info and more here on Ao3!

Because tumblr mobile is a menace and will only let you copy by paragraph, I put the exact searches separately below the readmore so you can easily copy-paste and don't have to worry about typos!

complete: true

complete: false

restricted: true

restricted: false

bookmarkable_type: ExternalWork

bookmarkable_type: Series

private: true

private: false

bookmarkable_type: Series complete: true

#fanfic bookmarks #how to make ao3 bookmarks #long post #ao3 bookmarks #ao3 lesson #ao3 #bookmarks #bookmark search #ao3 bookmark search #how to ao3 #fic recs #gunpowder milkshake #gm fic recs #fic rec #ao3 lessons #archiveofourown #archive of our own #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #archive of our own bookmarks

[anisaanisa]

Evermore: The Masterpost ☆

Another year, another @inukag-week Masterpost with bonus hc meta. Above the cut lies links to each prompt here on Tumblr (mobile navigation) and the complete collection on AO3. Below the cut dwells a breakdown of each prompt, with headcanon tidbits for those who dig it. So, without further ado!

Tumblr: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

Read it on AO3 ▶

This is your rest stop. Do not click Keep Reading unless you have a vested interest in Inuyasha headcanons/meta/personal anecdotes. Snacks advised.

The Personal Bit ☆

Picking up where I left off with Homecoming last year was easy when there weren’t any rules. I ran with the same concept – wait for the prompts and free-write some things as they appear. Considering post-canon thoughts will always haunt me, and I thrive off one-word prompts, it was a clear-cut decision to round back on that idea for 2022. Homecoming was my first soiree into ficlets, and since then, I’ve tackled verbosity (the irony here is not lost on me, please just let me live), so I forwent the word count restraint this time around. Keeping with the renaissance theme, I’m going to walk through my post-canon headcanons, as is the happy – but not perfect – ending that I like to think they deserved.

Final Note: Evermore spoilers start here.

Prompt Breakdown ☆

Day 1: Domestic

Summary: Kagome struggles to adapt to a time before her time. Or, I headcanon that it's really hard to move 500 years into the past. Thoughts and Feels:

When you get into the nitty-gritty of just how hard it was to fucking exist in Feudal Japan, I doubt that Kagome would miss modern amenities that make the day-to-day easier. This is the same girl who pampered herself at every opportunity and packed a hairdryer – sans electricity –  for a jaunt through the well. You know, queen shit.

No more replenishing that gigantic backpack – that is the thing of the future’s past. Or the past’s future? Regardless, there were no more gas stoves, instant ramen, and obscenely large bags of crisps and cooking back then? A nightmare.

But – Inuyasha knows what it means to have to carve a place for yourself with your bare hands, not fit in, and be considered the “other”. So, not only would he be understanding, I think he’d do the most and then some to make the transition more than manageable for her.

Fun Fact: Originally, I had Kagome talk about her feelings at the riverbank, but the idea that she fucked dinner up (cause she’s known for being proud of her cooking) kept gnawing at me as the moment the dam would break and the reason she’d stomp her feet.

Day 2: Role Reversal

Summary: Kagome saves the day. Or, I headcanon that people often, Inuyasha included, forget that Kagome was a born badass. Thoughts and Feels:

Kagome Higurashi is a badass by nature – this is a well-known fact amongst people that understand what they read. But sometimes, that’s forgotten, and I applied that notion to her husband – but instead of lacking reading comprehension, in his eyes, her safety comes first always, and I reckon that when she’s back, his protectiveness would probably sky-rocket.

Paranoia breeds fear and misunderstanding, and I think Inuyasha is idiot enough to forget how well they work together in the face of danger if it means keeping her out of it. So, we’ll allow him to forget that teamwork makes the dream work if only to keep his wife out of harm's way.

An odd one but: I’d like to think that at some point, Inuyasha got reamed for his overuse of the wind scar. Stop putting holes in the ground, man.

Fun Fact: I forgot that you’re supposed to end chapters somewhere, so I chucked the gunk in Kagome's hair and the hot spring thing when I remembered instead of leaving them in a field surrounded by pieces of Oni.

Day 3: Intimacy

Summary: Inuyasha takes a risk. Or, I (and everyone, for that matter) headcanon that there were a few memorable places they ended up fucking. Thoughts and Feels:

Huts didn’t have doors. People didn’t have phones to drop a line and let you know they’re headed your way. Shippos are a thing in this world; sometimes, that gets in the way of marital bliss.

Post-Canon Inuyasha, to me, is someone that seeks the “simple” joys in life. The things often taken for granted that he never had pre-Kagome – sex included. Why wouldn’t he? I’ve failed to come up with a reason.

Besides, I sub to the idea that Inuyasha is susceptible to the power of persuasion, especially when it comes from Kagome. A few nudges in the right direction, and he’d crack, 100%.

Fun Fact: This was the loosest prompt in that: the characters just did what they wanted, and I went along for the ride. Which ended with them fumbling by the well. Naturally.

Day 4: Scars

Summary: Inuyasha learns a new word. Or, I headcanon that having a husband with super-human strength leads to a few bumps and bruises. Thoughts and Feels:

Claws, muscle, teeth – Kagome's human. Surely times when intent and being careful aren’t enough to thwart a scrape or two? Accidents happen (as evidenced by my husband accidentally drop-kicking me the other night when he got a sudden cramp), but when mixed with Inuyasha, who holds protection in the highest regard, I think he’d take it to heart when these accidents are at his hand.

I still reckon Inuyasha is amazed by the concept of sex and all that comes with it, love bites included. It takes time to get to grips with sexual intimacy, and while they had physical intimacy beforehand, I still think there would be a long road to getting to know each other like that – how to hold your missus just right so you don’t nick her included.

But with time, practice, and a wife that’s good with words, I think he’d find his groove. Besides, he’s eager to please.

Fun Fact: I will salivate over the Every Scar Has a Story trope in any universe. It’s just a tried and true, innit?

Day 5: Parenting

Summary: Inuyasha considers what it means to be a father. Or, I headcanon that Inuyasha isn’t all for the idea of putting a baby in Kagome – at first. Thoughts and Feels:

Inuyasha didn’t have a daddy. His basis for a father figure? Not a thing. Who's to say that before Kagome – or even after Kagome – children were something that frequented his thoughts? No one. And I wrote to remind myself of that.

Ears, teeth, claws and all, there are traits that Inuyasha would pass on. And with no basis for who they’d become until they were out, I am 100% positive he would worry for the life his children would undoubtedly lead and the prejudices they’d face based on these traits that he’d undoubtedly pass on.

With all that being said, with time, patience and understanding, the idea would eventually appeal to him. Children aren’t the answer to a fairytale ending, but when I consider that he would never have considered himself worthy of said fairytale ending? I can't help but think that he’d grow fond of the idea of little mini-Kagome’s running around, especially if they were afforded the peaceful life they deserved.

Fun Fact: I don’t write post-canon often because it crushes my heart, and this chapter was the reminder as to why. A small part of me died when I saw how family-oriented this year's prompts were (and kidfics really aren't my bag), so I knew the second I saw this one it was gonna be a sad time. But also – it’s my personal favourite.

Day 6: Teasing

Summary: Inuyasha suffers, and Kagome kisses it better. Or, I headcanon Inuyasha is a bit of a baby about being the centre of attention. Thoughts and Feels:

Shippo is annoying and smart. This combination is deadly, especially when it's aimed at Inuyasha. It would be him that spills the beans because he's nosy, and InuKag is his OTP after all.

Things that are supposed to be private should stay private. At least, that's what Inuyasha would like to believe. too bad for him people love to gossip. Best remind him of that.

If anyone can talk a freaked Inu down, it's Kagome. Send tweet.

Fun Fact: It had to be Miroku. there was no other way it wasn't going to be Miroku, not in this world.

Day 7: Anniversary

Summary: Kagome's been keeping track of time. Or, I headcanon that being happy in the place she chose doesn't mean she'd forget her family. Thoughts and Feels:

Time Travel. Strange thing, isn't it? When you consider that at a time, both Kagome and Inuyasha had the ability to hop back and forth, there was never a 'loss'. But when that well is sealed for good, it's "akin to a death". They're there, on the other side, but if you can't get to them, are they really? Schrodingers Well wants to know.

Adjusting to living in Inuyasha time would be hard, busy, and fun. But when the dust settles, and she finds her flow, there will be times when she's caught slipping. And who wouldn't? But more importantly, who can blame her?

Inuyasha isn't a man of many words. But he shows his support in other ways, and if sitting by his wife until she cracks is what it takes - then that's what it takes.

Fun Fact: This was a bit of a sad, cathartic one, but one that had to happen. Anniversaries aren't all about proposals and marriage, sometimes they're a birthday, sometimes they aren't yours. But, I had to leave it on a sweet note, so I did. With Inuyasha having a silly little crush on his wife.

FRIENDS: If you made it to the end, please chug some water for your buddy here. That's to all the pocket friends who made this so much fun, the anguish is always worth it in the end. And to past-Anisa who said: "I had a lot of fun writing these, and I’d maybe like to explore this a little more in future. Potentially. Dunno. Mayhaps?", you did it lil buddy. Head pats. Ttyl bbs <3

#posts to keep #Evermore #inuyasha x kagome #inukag week 2022 #inukag week #inukag fanfic #inuyasha fanfiction #inuyasha #fanfiction #ficlet collection #masterpost #inu meta #anisaanisaff

[kenfetti-week]

Tutorial: How To Submit Works For Kenfetti Week 2023

As Kenfetti Week is a moderated event, you'll need to submit your works for approval by July 1st if you want them to appear in this year's AO3 subcollection. For those who have never used AO3 collections before, don't worry, the process is very easy and has two variations:

1. Once you’ve created your work, simply go to the Kenfetti Week 2023 Collection (AO3/collections/Kenfetti_Week_2023) and click the "Post to Collection" button—second button from the left, in the top right if you're on desktop and center-screen if you're on mobile. This will automatically post it to the collection once you have published your work. 2. Once you've created your work, go through your usual posting process, fill out all fields as normal, and then type Kenfetti_Week_2023 into the "Post to Collections/Challenges" box of the "Associations" section. Be sure to confirm it by either typing a comma or hitting enter. This will ensure that your work is submitted to the collection.

Please remember to tag all submissions with the corresponding prompt day and the year separated by a hyphen (e.g. “Day 3- 2023” or “Day 5- 2023”), for ease of moderation and the revealing of appropriate works.

Due to the semi-anonymous nature of the event, your works will be listed as "Unrevealed Work" until the relevant posting day, but you will still be able to see and edit your work as usual. Since it is an unrevealed work, if you do wish to edit your work after submitting it, you will need to navigate back to the Collection and access it via the Collection's works section because it will not appear on your personal AO3 profile until the collection is revealed.

It is also highly recommended that, on the day of each reveal, creators alter the publish date of your works to match (e.g. "9 July 2023" for Day 1, "15 July 2023" for Day 7). This is to prevent your work from appearing in the tags with the date on which it was initially published, rather than the date on which the work is revealed, and thus being lost several pages from the top of each tag.

Late submissions may still be accepted at mod discretion, but please keep in mind that Kenfetti Week 2023 Collection submissions are due by July 1st, not the day for each reveal. The mod team will be spending the intervening time looking over all submissions to make sure they follow event rules and give creators time to make any necessary adjustments before works go live. Depending on mod availability and number of submissions, the deadline may be adjusted, but if that happens, we will be sure to make an announcement about it.

When July 9th rolls around, the mods will reveal all works tagged "Day 1- 2023" and continue in that vein for the rest of the event week. If you post any links or works here on Tumblr over the course of Kenfetti Week, please feel free to tag it with #kenfetti week 2023 so we can easily find and reblog it! You can also @ this blog in the body of the post to make sure we don't miss it, or submit your link or work for posting on this blog if you have no Tumblr account of your own that it would be appropriate to post on.

After all works have been revealed and posted for each prompt day, we will make a round-up post with links to all relevant works; at the end of Kenfetti Week 2023, we will make a masterpost with links to each day's round-up posts. We hope this will make it easier for creators to have their works found by others without them being lost.

If you have any questions or concerns, please don't hesitate to contact us by sending an ask or through this blog's DMs.

#kenfetti week 2023 #kenfetti #jango fett #obi-wan kenobi #star wars #mod a

[silverskye13]

different anon. it does for some people but not everyone. (also, some people may find the feature annoying in certain cases because the length it decides is Too Long is kiinda arbitrary and peoople have differnent lines.)

So in the spirit of Under-The-Cutting, I guess.

First thing of address, I guess: I can't control if people turn off the auto Tumblr readmore function. If it doesn't work for you, you can't control that either. But I find it a bit unfair that someone might, hypothetically, turn off the useful tool for cutting back on longposts on your dashboard, and then come into my inbox and be passive-aggressive about me not doing the function for them on my side of the equation. If that's the circumstances that kicked all this off, it's a bit... ahm... self-centered. I personally have it turned on, less because I want to filter long written posts [I like reading the fics posted on Tumblr] but because I like to filter long image posts, and those generally don't get censored under a readmore.

For that matter I also can't control someone's scrolling speed. I get what the second anon is trying to say: maybe only censor posts of a certain size. The issue here is what I think is long isn't the same as what someone else does. For me personally, I think long is a written work that tops out around 10k words. I'd get annoyed scrolling through that on my dashboard. The fic I posted yesterday was a rare 5k-ish. Most fics I've posted here in the past are around 2-3k, but I've posted an 8k fic here before with no resistance. Something I'm learning from this is other people think 2-3k is fine enough to scroll through, but 5k is a lot. So... noting that for the future.

So I personally don't like censoring my posts under the readmore function for a couple or reasons:

It cuts back on engagement, noticeably. It's the side-effect of social media that you want instant gratification as quickly as possible. When someone is given the choice to either click a button and sit on a post for awhile, or continuing to scroll through their dashboard for something quicker to engage with, normally they'll pick the second option. That's how social media was made, and while the Tumblr platform subverts this a little by it's nature, it still buy-and-large holds true.

Read mores, as far as I'm aware, can only be added on desktop. The snippets that make it to Tumblr, barring when I archive them for myself on a separate document, are all written on mobile. If they aren't completely mobile, they're at least started/drafted there and then moved to desktop later - but I want to say 9/10 of these are written and posted completely from my phone. And they're going to lean even more into that, since for various reasons, it's currently easier and more reliable for me to write on my phone. I won't be able to continue writing fics here if I have to wait until I have access to my laptop every time before posting them. Which leads me to my incredibly me-only dilemma:

Writing these quickly and posting them rough to Tumblr is the only reason these quick fics get written in the first place. I started posting written work to Tumblr because I was tired of abandoning so many ideas in the shuffle between "Is this good enough for AO3?" and "Is this good enough to be written at all?" But if I have to re-add roadblocks that make posting here more trouble than it's worth, I know myself, I will end up not posting fics here anymore. I'm sure it sounds silly. It sounds silly to me. But it's less of a "readmores make me not want to write" and more of the mental gymnastics of: Is this fic long enough to need a readmore -> If it does need a readmore, when will I have the time to add it -> Do I post it now and edit it in later? Probably not, because I won't remember to add it later -> Since I waited to post it, do i even remember hours later that I had a fic I wanted to post -> Would it have been easier to post this on AO3, even though it doesn't meet my standard of craft of AO3 fics? -> Why am I bothering to do this when I have so many other things I'd rather spend my time on? If you've ever done that thing where you got nothing done on a free day because you had (1) thing you had to do in the afternoon, and all your mental faculties were taken up going "No I can't do X, I have to do that thing in 4 hours!" That's kind of the odd cascade the whole readmore thing is doing for me right now.

My thoughts on this currently is I have 2 compromises and 1 definitely-not-a-compromise. And the one not-a-compromise is I ignore all this ever happened, and continue doing what I have been doing. I don't want to do that because I like to be accommodating? I'm very community focused. I like building an atmosphere that's welcoming when it comes to the blog. But that might also be what I resort to just because, as I said above, if this turns into more trouble on my end than I think it's worth, I'll just stop posting fics here, and I don't want to do that. Which leads me to--

Compromise 1: I stop posting fics here. It's not really a compromise, but it's easy. Ish. Eh. Not really. Tagging everything on AO3 is a pain in the butt for something quick and dumb you wrote up because you thought it'd be fun. But being able to post a link to a fic like with my LongFics is a think I could just fall back on. I think it also means I'll probably stop writing this stuff though, because I'll get bogged down in things like trying to edit them, or link them together cohesively when they're out of chronological order [Like the Hels/Wels fics, which currently are all over the place in their timeline, and will continue to be so probably]. Regardless it's an option.

Compromise 2: We can go back to the old standby which is me tagging anything longer than 3 paragraphs as "long post" and then if anyone doesn't want it popping up on their dash, they can filter the tag. I also don't like this option because it blocks even more than a readmore does. But it's quick and easy for me, and maintains the integrity of "I wanted to post this to Tumblr and not worry about it anymore."

This is all stuff for me to stew on. I don't expect people to weigh in on these options, though you're welcome to if you think you have some good input for it. But that's about where I'm at right now.

#spazzcat barks #delete later #answering asks #the readmore debacle #well that's exhausted me for the night #i was going to draw but now I think I just want to sleep #Anyway I hope no one takes this as me like? Threatening them? #I'm not trying to say 'arghh you've made me upset no more writing for you' #i just know myself and i know my personal hangups when it comes to productivity #and as soon as something requires marginally more hoops to jump through i drop it #i became inactive on DeviantArt because it was easier to post art on Tumblr and write a few tags #than to slog through the filtering system for posts DA had #Same thing with FurAffinity the short time I was on that site #And AO3 is really high on the threshold of 'this is more trouble than it's worth' to me #which is why very few of these quick fics have been archived onto AO3 #but if this turns into a thing where it's harder to post fics on tumblr than not -- i'll do like I did with DA and FA and stop posting #its a storied trend and i dislike it :'D

[true-blue-sonic]

Hello Blue, I saw that you post your fics both in AO3 and Wattpad, which one you think is easier to work? Why? Which one would you recommend to a beginner?

Hello ^-^ DEFINITELY AO3, and it wins by a landslide. Keep in mind I only use Wattpad in its most bare-bones fashion so I might be getting some details wrong about it, though! Putting this under a read more cuz it got very long.

Firstly, the tagging system of Ao3 is a literal godsend; where on Wattpad the tags are limited to only 1 word per tag (e.g. the tag Established Relationship would have to be written like establishedrelationship; the tag Silver the Hedgehog as silverthehedgehog, and so on), Ao3 has a limit of 100 symbols *per tag*, and you can put in a massive number of tags if you so desire (but I believe it is generally considered rude if you tag your fic with everything under the sun, since it is a lot to scroll through for other readers who are searching in only one tag your fic has. Also, some tags might not be relevant for your fic at all). Overall, the tags on Ao3 are what makes it possible to find a specific type of story or specific characters, and its idiot tagging system means that for Wattpad, I often cannot find what I am looking for at all.

Secondly, Ao3 has no algorithm. Whereas on Wattpad your story is automatically ‘ranked’ based on its number of likes and hits iirc (note: I am not 100% sure about this but I do believe it to be the case), on Ao3 it shows up based on date of posting. This means that for beginning fic writers, on Ao3 you are simply much more likely to be found by others! On Wattpad you need to build up a base of followers first.

Thirdly, when going through a tag/fandom/character tag on Ao3, you get the entire story, with the whole summary and all tags at once. On Wattpad, this is smushed together to only the first few words of the summary and the first tags that fit (on mobile; on laptop it is the summary alone), the rest fading out. While this does tackle the above-mentioned problem of some fics on Ao3 having so many tags you need an hour to scroll past it, for me it results in me having no idea what any of the stories on Wattpad are about, and nothing catching my interest either because of the limited information getting presented.

Fourthly, I find the G - T - M - E ratings Ao3 has a lot more convenient than Wattpad’s “target audience” option based on age and "mature”-only rating. Mature and explicit are not the same thing, which Ao3 takes into account and Wattpad does not. Generally when creating a fic, Ao3 gives a lot more options to fill in (collections, co-authors, who can comment, AUTHOR’S NOTES my beloved, archive warnings etc) which gives a much clearer picture just what a reader is about to read.

Fifthly, when searching for stories yourself on Ao3, you can greatly narrow down your search; you can search for or block(!!) whatever tag, pairing, rating, ANYTHING you want with the greatest of ease. On Wattpad, you can sort on length, date posted, content, and redefine further by tags; no blocking stuff except for mature stories as far as I can see.

Wattpad does have its good sides, though... For example, you can personally talk to people in DMs! ...When it’s not a glitchy, post-deleting mess of a website, and let me assure you that when talking to people on there my messages have been deleted a LOT. But it does make it easier to contact writers than on Ao3, which has no DMs of any kind and where you can only talk to writers in comments on specific fics. Wattpad also gives more options to interact with followers, e.g. through conversations and message-posting. I’ve also seen people make whole artbooks on Wattpad, which seems more difficult on Ao3 as well. On Wattpad you can keep a story in your drafts forever iirc, on Ao3 it gets deleted after a month. Wattpad also has notifications in the app/website itself, where for Ao3 you need to specifically get emails for that. On Wattpad, you can monetise your work and charge people to read it; on Ao3, you cannot, because of the legal situations regarding the archive. But for me, only the DMs are nice and relevant, and definitely not something I would recommend only using Wattpad for.

Overall, Ao3 is kind of like a big library, with no monetisation (so also not from the people running it), and an extensive tagging system that many people adore. Wattpad meanwhile is more of a social media-like site, in my opinion. Ao3 is more extensive to fill in and might just be a bit scarier/difficult to figure out, but its benefits of tagging and basically the entire site as a whole being focused on user experience and ease of finding stories greatly outweighs the drawbacks for me. Good luck with your writing journey! ^-^

#this got very long haha but I hope it's useful! #so yeah tl;dr I love Ao3 and it is an amazing website #both for writing and for user experience it is so much more convenient than Watty #wattpad #archive of our own #again there might be some incorrect info here but I exclusively use Ao3 #because of the above reasons haha #exclusively for writing* #I hope you found this useful! #blue's writing

[desertwaterwitch]

Hi! I'm doing a school design project and I've decided to have a go at designing a Archive of Our Own app! I was wondering if you might be up for answering some questions to help me with my design (I need to show research in my project!)

If you are, answers to these would be SUPER helpful!

How long have you been engaging fanfiction sites such as Archive of our own, Fanfiction.net and Wattpad? 

What are some of your favourite works or fandoms on those sites? 

Are you a writer as well as a reader?

What drew you to these platforms and why do you stay? 

How long have you been engaging with the site Archive of Our Own specifically? 

What does your engagement with the platform look like? 

How often do you engage with the platform?

What are your favourite aspects of the platform? 

Do you think that you engage with all of the elements available on the platform?

Are there any elements of the platform that frustrate you? 

Of the fanfiction sites you frequent, where would you rank the site as a whole and why?

What do other platforms have that Archive of Our Own does not, which you enjoy interacting with? 

Are there any features unique to Archive of Our Own that you enjoy?

If Archive of Our Own were to develop a mobile app, what features would you like to see? 

Would you like the app to be similar in aesthetic and function to the already established website?

Are there any features you would like to see added to the platform in the app?

If you're not interested no worries! Thanks so much

Hi! Sure, I will answer them as best as I can! (:

1. I’ve been engaging on those types of sites since I was about 16, maybe 17.

2. The Harry Potter fandom is my favorite on that site because of how creative writers get with the characters.

3. Yes I am a writer as well as a reader.

4. I started out on Wattpad as a reader of fanfic. I find it so fun to read the creative stories writers come up with. That’s why I stay on them. I also stay because I like writing on them.

5. I’ve been with archive of our own for over a year now. That’s when I got accepted.

6. My engagement is reading and writing.

7. I go through phases. Some days I will be reading fics all day. Sometimes I go months without. When I’m writing something to post eventually, I only read a little.

8. My favorite aspects are the details. How you can find pretty much anything you want to read. There’s tags which make it easier. I like that you can subscribe to works so you can go back to it later.

9. Yes I think I do engage with them. I’ve looked all over the site and I know it pretty well.

10. Nothing formatting wise I think. It’s pretty easy to navigate.

11. This site is my favorite. There’s more people on it and it’s so great having the tags. It’s so detailed, you can find anything.

12. Wattpad has the ability to easily add photos to your stories and as a title. AO3 does not. There is a way to add pictures somehow but I haven’t figured it out. I think the pictures on Wattpad are important because that’s how I decide if the story seems interesting. Another thing that I love on Wattpad is that after every paragraph break, there’s a comment option. I love reading the random stuff people say about what they just read. I’ve had so many laughs from that! Oh the memories…😂

13. I can’t really think of any that are unique.

14. I would like the same things from the site to be on the app. The tagging, the filters, all of that. It would be cool to even have the option to type up your story on the app, even though I use another platform to write my stories.

15. Yes as I said earlier, I would like it to be similar to what it is now.

16. Just what I said in question 14.

I hope that helped and good luck on your project! I’ll be looking out for that app 😂

[lunastigerlilies]

Why don’t you answer asks or messages within a normal time frame?

I’m not only mentally ill, I’m also chronically ill. I have a mystery GI illness that makes me nauseous constantly (when it happens, it’s all I can focus on) and fibromyalgia, which gives me extreme brain fog. I also get distracted very easily. Obviously, if we’re having a conversation and I get notified from your messages, it’ll be easier for me to respond, but I still forget sometimes.

I reserve the right to not answer any asks or messages of my choosing. It’s not that I don’t like you or what you have to say; it’s just that some things don’t inspire me the way others do.

Why do you consider yourself disabled? How does this translate into your writing?

My fibromyalgia is consistently bad enough for me to need mobility aids. It’s gotten to the point where I can’t go to public places that require a lot of walking (like zoos, botanical gardens, museums, stuff like that) without renting a wheelchair for the day. The last time I tried to get through a place like that without a wheelchair, I fell about a quarter of the way through and my dad had to physically help me get to a place where I could safely sit down without hurting myself worse.

When I’m at home, I can’t do a lot of the things I like to do, like cooking (I can’t stand for super long without getting fatigued) or writing (my fingers cramp up very easily). Because of this, it will take a little longer for me to publish stories than it would someone else. That’s why I’ve organized the fanfiction and analyses that I’ve reblogged. Check out my tags for more information.

Why do you only write plus-size readers?

I’m fat and I feel that fat girls don’t get enough representation in fandom spaces. It’s taken me a long time to be comfortable existing as I am, and I want to help other women get to that point with themselves as well. If you’re already at that point, now you get to read about women that look like you. How awesome is that?

Because I strive for body neutrality in my stories, I will not be including fatphobia in my stories other than negative self-body image. I also will not reblog stories with similar content.

Where else can I find your stories?

The only places you can find my stories are on Wattpad and AO3. My Wattpad username is writingtigerlilies. My AO3 username is lunaslilies. Any other account on any other platform that posts my stories is actively plagiarizing my work. If you see it, please tell me so I can report it!

#blog upkeep #i reserve the right to edit or update this at any time

[the-witches-you-couldnt-burn]

It started with a whisper

I originally wrote ‘Like I did with you’ as a one-shot but people wanted a sequel. This turned out to be waaaaay longer than expected (4.7k word count). Inspired by Everybody Talks by Neon Trees. I hope you lot enjoy!

Ao3

(Also this is Mari’s new outfit, all credits go to the original artist)

————

Two teens stood upon the balcony of a large banquet hall, exposed to the midsummer night air. The sky was a lilac blanket that hung over the Parisian buildings, speckled with glowing stars. The moon, with it’s crescent smile, beamed down of the young couple.

Hey, baby, won't you look my way?

Marinette’s eyes were closed as she rested her head upon his shoulder, relaxing after the night’s rapid escalation. Tonight she had arrived at the ball with the intent to be there for her friends, but somehow she found herself within the arms of Gotham’s (and probably Paris’) Ice Prince. She had overheard his nickname from the Gotham students, one of which being Jon, who was in the middle of mocking the young Wayne. She had never considered that nickname as suitable; sure he was temperamental & had a tendency to snap, but icey to the core? No.

I can be your new addiction

Damian was calm. For the first time in his life he felt like he could take a breath. His exhale was carried off by a small gust of wind, the bush over hanging the stone railing rustled. With his inhale, the scent of Marinette’s perfume became present once more. Mixed with the crisp night’s air, her usual scent of pastries was mixed with what could only be described as ambrosia. His phone vibrated within his pocket, it was never on volume due to the potential risk it caused during his heroic activities.

“Shit.” Notifications covered his screen, multiple tweets, Instagrams and Tiktoks in which he had been tagged in. But the alert came from his family’s private messaging chat. The whole thread was a shit storm, Grayson and Todd’s messages were completely capitalised (he learnt years ago this meant ‘to yell’ in writing form) and both had multiple ‘keyboard spasms’. Drake, like the thorough detective he is, had combed through the images and videos, investigating their validity. His honorary sisters had replied with ‘awwwww’(s) and ‘Omg we MUST meet this girl! I need to know how she tamed the demon!’. He could practically hear Brown’s shrill voice from across the ocean.

Hey, baby, what you gotta say?

No reply from his father or Alfred. The two of them were the only semblance of ‘normal’ paternal figures he had within his life, after the sham of a relationship he had previously held with his grandfather. Their silence unnerved him.

Marinette had noticed his attention had shifted to his phone, her own mobile was buzzing away within her baby pink purse. Messages, notifications of account tagging and comments galore. A sigh left her lips when she saw her parents seemed to be none the wiser. Good, she didn’t need to deal with future adoration for ‘The boy who swept our daughter off of her feet’ (or something along those lines).

Her cheeks regained some of the warmth they held before as she thought of her parent’s reaction. Scrolling through her Twitter she saw her friends had posted multiple images of the night’s events, majority being her shared dance.

Chloé Bourgeois @TheBestBourgeois

what kind of Disney shit is this? (Insert video of two teens dancing around an mostly empty dance floor.)

Alix Kubdel @Sk8trGirl

Replying to @TheBestBourgeois

I KNOW RIGHT?! THEY WERE FUCKING FLOATING!!!

All you're giving me is fiction

She was thankful that they hadn’t tagged her but she hadn’t been spared by others in attendance. Her post thread had blown up, thousands had commented and even more had viewed the evidence. There was no way she would come out of this unscathed.

“Has anyone been on Twitter today?” The blonde of the family asked as she walked into the dining room. Her eyes focused on her scrolling screen, brows furrowed in confusion. “Actually has anyone seen what’s happening on any of our socials?”

It was early in the afternoon and the family had recently returned home after a straining stakeout. The Joker had broken out of Arkham and the Batfam had to deal with his minions. Dick’s arm was in a sling (sprained from a grapple gone wrong), Jason was icing his hand, Alfred was stitching Bruce’s chest wounds while Tim and the girls escaped without severe injuries. All were still recuperating and finally able to recharge.

Alfred always enforced a strict ‘no devices at the dinner table’ rule; no matter how urgent it was, it could wait until after sustenance was consumed. Tim strongly opposed this, but there was no arguing with Agent A. This all surmises that probably no one had seen the crap storm on social media.

I'm a sorry sucker and this happens all the time

Bruce sighed, bringing his free arm up to rub his eyes. Tilting his head back to look at Steph, “Who was it this time?” Barbara quickly took out her phone to see what Stephanie was talking about, all the while glancing accusingly at Dick and Jason. Both of whom held up their arms (or in Dick’s case arm), declaring their innocence.

“It wasn’t fucking me!”

“Jason! Language!” Dick shot a glare at Jason and was met with one in return. “It wasn’t me either.”

“Then who-“ Bruce started before being cut off by his most rambunctious daughter.

I found out that everybody talks

Stephanie with a squeal, exclaimed that it was Damian. Visions of what the Wayne brat could have done flashed through the heads of everyone in the room. He had been sent overseas before the quarantines and lockdowns hit. During Damian’s first month in France he had been forced into online schooling and then finally when he got to go to in-person classes he hated it. Described the class as a kindergarten with petty and vindictive toddlers.

Had he broken someone’s arm? Was that person of such importance that it had spread over multiple social media platforms? France’s government had announced on June 15th, that teens were now being inoculated so him having COVID-19 was doubtful. Had he insulted the wrong person? Had he taken over the government? He certainly had the potential.

Everybody talks, everybody talks

What they saw stunned them, even Steph as she watched it for the 7th time. Damian Wayne was dancing. But not only that, he was dancing with a girl.

It started with a whisper

“What is this shit?”

No one verbally objected to Jason’s outburst but he was sent a harsh glare from Alfred, Dick and Bruce. Their focus soon returned to the images and videos before them. Babs’ and Steph’s phones were returned to them as the others ran to grab their own devices. They all met back at the table, comparing the posts and comparing their notes.

I can hear the chitchat

“There’s no way this can be real.”

“Jesus Tim,” Barbara rolls her eyes, “have you seen the amount of posts there are? You’d be an idiot to think otherwise.”

Take me to your love shack

“I’m with Tim, how do we know this isn’t some skit. I mean, Demon Spawn almost looks normal. That’s a matter of concern.” He almost dry heaved when he agreed with Tim. Damian couldn’t be capable of naturally exuding that amount of humanity unless there was something in it for him.

Mamas always gotta backtrack

“I was just saying Babs, that we should check the credibility of these images. For all we know they could be gorilla glued together and trying to get unstuck.” Tim cringed at his own reasoning, he really needed to either sleep (probably not going to happen anytime soon) or find his favourite coffee brand (which had been one of the first to vanish after the covid hoarders appeared).

When everybody talks back

Dick was too busy freaking out and spam messaging the youngest Wayne, to defend Damian’s humanity. The family saw this and followed suit, wanting to get information from the source.

Chat name: Alfred supremacy

BigBird: AHHHHHH DAMIAN!

BigBird: YOU LOOK SO CUTE!!!

BigBird: HAIFJDNDNFI

LittleWing: WTF HAPPENED DEMON SPAWN YOU LOOK ALMOST HUMAN

Babs: who knew the city of love would influence the brat

Blondie: they are so cuteeeeeee!

Blondie: We HAVE to meet her!

Silent-but-deadly: agreed.

Timbo: YO DEMON

Timbo: Apparently the videos are legit

Timbo: are you being blackmailed?

And it just devolved into more chaos from there, fueled by the fact that they saw Damian’s ‘Blood Son’ account appear online before vanishing once more. Dick shrieked, “I FOUND HER ACCOUNT!”

The family gathered around the eldest son, peering over his shoulder to view his iPhone 12max screen. They saw a young girl’s Instagram account. It was locked but they could see her profile pic, the girl had black hair and looked to be if Asian decent. They compared it to the videos but it was hard to see due to the hall’s lighting and the minimised facial features of the pfp. Alfred suggested that they search up her username and see who has tagged her, some might have other photos of her.

After research for awhile, the family began to get frustrated with lack of results.

Hey honey you could be my drug

You could be my new prescription

“Come on!” Jason complained, “What kind of teenage girl doesn’t post her life online?” He ignored the girls glares and went back to researching. How had the account by the name of ‘mariiiiinette’ to managed to prevent the entire Wayne clan from accessing it? Damn Instagram privacy settings. He groaned, dragging a hand down his face, “We are fucking stupid. Why don’t we just use the Bat-computer? It would be so much fucking easier.”

“It shouldn’t be used for civilian issues-“

Too much could be an overdose

“The girl could be a meta for all we know! We aren’t safe until we know who she is.” Jason points a finger at Tim, his paranoia flared up and even though he would never admit it, Jason would do anything to protect each member of his family (although Bruce is still debatable).

All this trash talk make me itching

Barbara and Tim took their usual positions as Oracle and Red Robin (who had been banned from patrol due to lack of sleep). The rest of the Batfam stood behind them either with arms crossed or still failing at researching.

Oh my my shit

“The account is owned by a girl called Marinette Dupian-Cheng. She is French-Chinese and her parents own a popular bakery. Also if it wasn’t already obvious, she goes to Collège Françoise Dupont, aka Damian’s French school.” Tim begun informing his nosy family, “But this account has been inactive for the past 6 months, which is strange due to her frequent posting schedule before hand. It seems she probably has a second account and this is her old one.”

Everybody talks, everybody talks

“Not only that,” Barbara interrupted. “There are unopened messages from other accounts that accuse her of being a bully. There is a whole Facebook page about this girl and how she has been hurting her old friends, but neither side seems reliable. The so called victims seem to be twisting the truth but there is barely any information about Marinette so we can’t disprove it either.”

“Read out some of the messages.” Bruce took a cup of coffee from Alfred and sipped it.

The main screen of the bat computer displayed a Facebook group with the banner picture being a photo of Marinette. “They are mostly complaints expected of teen girls when there is a girl they don’t like; ‘Marinette is such a know-it-all’, ‘She is constantly insulting Lila’s intelligence’. They go on to talk about how Marinette was briefly expelled from the Collège before being reinstated by the principle for a reason unknown to them.”

Everybody talks too much

“Her school reports up until this year were good. The newest one states, ‘While Marinette is a wonderful and bright student, I encourage her to settle her disagreements outside of class. This seems to only be a recent occurrence and I implore her to go to the guidance council if she is in need of help.’” A beat of silence echoes through the cave, Tim sighed. “Jason’s meta theory could be correct. She could have just recently started exhibiting her abilities and using them to get what she wants.”

“Bruce what do you want to do?”

“We’re going to Paris.”

She opened her eyes to the blaring morning light that streamed through the blinds. Her lashes still painted with mascara that refused to leave. She felt a pang of sorrow when she was removing her makeup and dress last night, she never wanted the night to end. She shuffled down the stairs to the kitchen, covering her mouth when she yawned. She greeted her mother as she entered the kitchen to get breakfast.

She glanced at her phone and there was the chaos that was started hours ago and it was still occurring. It was the weekend, she wouldn’t need to deal with her classmates until Monday. But she would still have to survive her parent’s interrogation. Out of the corner of her eye she caught her mother smirking at her.

Everybody talks

“Nadja told me some interesting news about last night.” Marinette held her breath, glaring at the toaster, willing it to hurry up so she could escape. “Well,” Sabine patted her shoulder before rubbing Mari’s back. “I know you didn’t want to go but I hope you had fun.”

With that she exited the kitchen, probably going to help her father in the bakery. The ravenette stared after her, eye widened in shock, jumping when the toaster went off. Buttering her toast she went over the conversation, her brows furrowed in confusion. She had expected a ‘When do I get to meet the oh so famous prince?’ or ‘Should I be expecting a new guest sometime in the near future?’ or at least a ‘Who was that young man, Bǎozàng (宝藏 it means treasure)?’ But she said nothing.

A small smile was plastered upon her face as she changed and went down to help her parents in the bakery. Her father didn’t say anything either, he gave her a knowing smile before continuing to kneed the dough. She sat at the the store front as the cashier whilst her parents were busy making ‘Paris’s Finest Pastries’.

Her musings slowly faded as she was brought back to reality by badly hushed whispers. Two young preteens were by the bread roll casing near the door. She had seen them come in before with their parents, the girls went to the prestigious international school over in the 16th arrondissement. The one with purple hair kept whispering to the brunette, both ‘subtly’ glancing towards her. Using her enhanced hearing she listened in on their conversation.

“That’s her, I swear that’s her in the video.”

The blonde’s face soured likes she sucked on a lemon. “No, it wasn’t good lighting there is no way he would dance with someone like her.”

Everybody talks

Marinette had tough skin but their words had an impact, only a small one due to her defence mechanism of repressing emotions. She stopped listening and went back to drawing in her sketchpad, she was in desperate need of a new school outfit.

The two girls eventually came up to the counter, goods in hand. Marinette rung up and bagged their items (paper because save the turtles sksksk) in a tired daze. A phone was shoved into her face, her eyes barely adjusted to view the screen before the blonde spoke.

“Is this your instagram?” She asked in a tone so snobbish that it should be illegal from a person her age. Marinette finally was able to view the screen that was barely an inch from her face. Her old Instagram ‘mariiiiinette’ was displayed on screen, she hesitantly nodded, gaze flicking back to the two in front of her.

The blonde’s nose scrunched up and the purple goth girl squealed in delight. They soon after left the store, their conversation had devolved into ‘See! I told you’ and ‘Yeah, yeah. You were right.’

Walking to school on Monday, she had finally come down from cloud nine. She still rode the tail end of her high as she rushed along her path to her campus, she wasn’t going to be late but she sure wasn’t going to be early. She had spent the better part of the weekend designing and sewing a brand new outfit. Her new look was composed of a black cropped singlet (L'amour gagne hemmed into it and it’s straps), paired matching peach plaid cropped overshirt and a-line miniskirt. Her hair was down, ballet flats were worn and her makeup was the usual with the added edition of a rose gold eyeshadow.

Even though her face was covered in a black and gold mask, she looked hot.

She reached the campus and the whispers started again, people were still buzzing from Friday night. Her classmates, the majority of her grade and the younger years seemed to gossiping before class about the formal’s events. She couldn’t spot any of her friends or the two Gotham transfers, so she was stuck listening the the chitchat. Why couldn’t she have been late like usual?

Damian had a fowl disposition and it showed in multiple icey glares (and that was before he even reached the collège). His family had made their appearance known in Paris at 1am Sunday morning. He could have used his dorm to escape but his family didn’t have the word ‘privacy’ within their vocabulary. He didn’t want to have to pay for a lock replacement due to his brothers’ (most likely Todd with Drake & Grayson laughing at him) lock picking habit.

The Ice Prince was back with full force. He had just been... influenced by all the other couples. Yes he did respect Dupain-Cheng and he appreciated her company & pleasant conversations. He would struggle to hide a small smile at the memory of the dance, even if he denied himself the happiness of normality, he felt content when reminiscing.

“Ooo the Ice Prince is here, did he have a fight with his princess or something?” The voice seemed to mock him.

“The Disney Magic is gone. The demon is back.”

Everybody talks

At the second jeer he shot a glare at the perpetrator. Jon held his hands up in an ‘I surrender manner’, laughing as he joined Damian at his side. The two entered the school’s large foyer and looked to see if any of the classes were open yet. Sadly they weren’t, before he was wrong and the his class was plain torture but this was truely hell.

He saw Dupain-Cheng sitting alone on the stairs, drawing within her sketchpad. He wondered how a girl like her, who always seemed to be involved in other’s lives (for the better) was ignoring all of the comments about her. She felt his focus centre on her, eyes flicking up to meet his, she provided him with a small wave before continuing to draw.

Jon nudged him with an elbow to his ribs and dragged him off to the side, into the boy’s locker rooms. Jon scowled at the door, “It’s a mad house out there. You’ve heard what some people are saying right?”

“Why would I care about these imbeciles?”

Jon jabbed Damian in the chest, causing the demon to stumble. Green eyes darted from blue eyes to the tan finger. “You care when lies hurt people you care about.”

The day began to rapidly decline once the two dance partners took their seats, next to each other. They had both been placed up the back of the class and them sitting together hadn’t been a problem until now apparently. She wasn’t even safe when the teacher started their lecture, whispers and glances were cast towards them. Once the two got to biology it was better, Ms Mendeleiev was a strict teacher and was able to control the class.

Everybody talks

But the recess came. When the bell rang she slowly started packing up her equipment, Alix and Max (who she shared biology with) waited for her; she watched as the Ice Prince left through the door. She knew she didn’t need to be concerned about her friends joining in with the gossiping, if anything they would dispel people and tell them to ‘Mind their own fucking business’ because this whole situations is ridiculous, utterly ridiculous.

She did receive some slight teasing from Alix about being a Disney princess, but Marinette quipped back about the skater’s fairytale story being ‘Pinknette, the Geek and the Beast’. The three met up with the other two of their group, they had just come from geography. Kim was complaining that Argentina was a state in America.

“That’s Arkansas you idiot!” Chloe shrieked, lightly hitting his arm with her white handbag. Max held his head in his hand as he approached, how had his tutoring sessions failed so badly?

Chloe turned to Marinette, a smile forming from her glare. The blonde examined the designer’s clothing, nodding. “You look like you are about to have a hot girl summer.”

Marinette’s face burned, the tips of her ears coated in red. Alix chuckled and nudged her shoulder.

Everybody talks

“Look at her, she is so desperate for his attention that she probably copied those designs.”

“Why do you think he danced with her anyways? Maybe she has something on him? I mean, she forces him to sit next to her in class, who knows what else she has done.”

What. The. Fuck.

Chloe glowered towards Lila’s posy. “We have a fucking seating plan, those cretins-“ She made a motion to storm over but was caught by the ravenette, looking back to Mari, her rage decreased from a boil to a simmer.

“No Chlo. It’s fine, it’s not worth it.”

Everybody talks... back

The group walked out to the school’s front steps, it was a mad house... a mad courtyard? Students sitting on the stairs, on the grass and standing around mingling, all of them now were staring at her. She held her backpack close to her chest (she had swapped her signature coin-bag purse for the pastel pink bag), pretending its a shield. Her friends circled around her becoming an obstacle to prevent their stares. If people were afraid of a scowling Kim then they don’t know the scorn of Chloe or Alix’s bite. And Max, sweet quiet Max.... you better hope he doesn’t have blackmail on you (he probably does), he can dismantle your life with a single anonymous post.

Rushed footsteps approached them. The group was broken apart by a rude Wayne boy, he swept Mari away from the school and the gossip crowds within. Her four friends shouted at him and he kept walking, shooting a glare at them in response. He kept pushing Marinette forward with a hand placed on the small of her back, her backpack was now swung over his other shoulder.

They ended up in her favourite alcove. She had brought him here with the other Gotham transfers for a native’s tour of Paris. It had always been her safe place to be creative.

It started with a whisper (everybody talks, everybody talks)

“My apologises for our rushed departure but you seemed to want to get out of their anyhow.” His gruff tone danced through the silence, his head still peaking around the corner; watching for any unwelcome guests.

“Thank you.” She whispered, her voice almost being carried off by the gentle wind. A genuine smile illustrated upon her face.

“We weren’t able to converse after the events of the other night. I would like to formally apologise once more for my actions causing this adverse reaction. If I had kn-“

“You don’t need to apologise!” She squeaked, hiding her eyes behind her fisted hand. Her shoulders curled inwards as she tried to make herself seem as small as possible, a side effect of her common use of her secondary miraculous form: Multimouse.

“I chose to dance with you, you don’t need to apologise for my own actions.” He stared at her with confusion. He had taken the blame so she wouldn’t need to do so herself; but she had taken it anyways. He had given her an out. Why does she always take the blame, even for things out of her control?

“But if I hadn’t danced with you then you wouldn’t have been the focus of the entire school.”

Marinette stepped forward, her eyes hardened and blazing. “Damian Friday night I went there out of obligation to my friends, I didn’t want to be there. But dancing with you? That was the highlight of my week, probably my month too. I enjoyed our time together.” Her face softened, lips twitched downwards ever so slightly. “I don’t regret anything about that night, but do you?”

He was bad at comfort. Everyone in his family avoided him when they were in need, he plainly didn’t know what to do. She wasn’t visibly upset but he sensed that she is disappointed that he apparently didn’t share the same opinion of the night. The only thing he regretted about that night was letting Jon call him a coward, but then again if he didn’t he never would have danced with Dupa- Marinette.

He picked up her clenched hand, the tension in her body alleviated at his embrace. He remembered how Grayson would apologise to Kor’i or how his father interacted with Ms Kyle. He brought their hands up and placed a kiss upon her knuckles.

And that was when I kissed her (everybody talks, everybody talks)

“I do not regret anything either—“ he cleared his throat, “In fact, I’d appreciate if we would be able to interact more, especially outside of that cesspit.”

Was he...?

It didn’t matter.

She smiled the same dazzling smile she gave him at the dance. She nodded while laughing, “I’d love that.”

Everybody talks

The two stay talking, hidden within their secret alcove for the rest of the day. She texted her parents to say she was with a friend and would be back later that night. Damian didn’t bother texting his family, Marinette knew he had to be back soon due to his dorm’s curfew.

The sun was setting at they walked back together, he did the gentlemanly thing and dropped her off at her bakery door. She could see her mother behind the register inconspicuously looking over at the two of them. Damian’s lips quirked upwards, she was satisfied with his kinda-smile.

He walked back, hands in pockets and a neutral expression upon his face instead of a scowl. He reached his door and took his keys, he found that it was already open. Damn.

His family was splayed out within his two roomed dorm. Todd and Drake were fighting over a place to sit on his bed, whilst his father sat at his desk, watching the commotion. The three of them turned to him as he enter the room, they were the only family members able to attend on short notice; Cain had a ballet audition, Gordon & Brown had concert tickets for tomorrow, Grayson had to take care of Mar’i while Kor’i was on Tamaran and Alfred stayed to ensure no one died during their night time activities.

“We need to talk Damian.” His father stood, leaning onto the desk chair. “The school called and said you had an unexcused absence for half the day. Where were you Damian?”

Damian stared into his father’s eyes. He was fifteen, almost an adult, but was treated like he was ten again.

“I was with a friend.”

“Probably the girl from the dance. Marinette, right?” Todd mocked him. Damian snapped his head in the direction of his bed, glaring at both his brothers.

“That’s what I want to talk about with you Damian. Now I don’t know her personally but from what we’ve discovered through our investigation we have some concerns. What’s happened Damian?”

The youngest Wayne’s glare shifted off of his brothers to the floor, and then finally to his father; his family sitting in wait for his answer. Straightening his posture, his shoulders clicked as he rolled then back. His statement’s tone was sure and steady, “Everybody talks father.”

Everybody talks... back

#maribat #marinette x damian #mlb x dc #batfam salt #batfam is concerned #Daminette #the aftermath of ‘Like I did with you’ #everybody talks by neon trees #max kante has blackmail and will use it #Alix will bite if provoked #dc x mlb #damian wayne x marinette dupain cheng #Marinette Dupain-Cheng is a meta? #supportive Dupain-Cheng parents ❤️

[darkesttimelinejeffparker]

Some Updates

A few things while I go through and try to organize my stories because they are a reaaaaal mess.

Tag squad/Being tagged in fic I used to let people sign up to be tagged in stories for specific wrestlers, but that was a lot easier when I was writing about the same four or five people. I’ve expanded to 17 wrestlers as main characters, have about 20 drafts that will expand that further and will be writing for at least two rosters (aew and NJPW), so now I’m going to really just have one main list. These are the people that currently get tagged in everything: tag squad: @gabbynorth98 @brittsdmd @brokenglassslippers @alyhull @tryingtofindaplaceinthisworld @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch  @sillynilly27 @from-wherever ​ @dancingwithsilhouettes @thatgirlforever5

In addition @mrsmatt @kcloveswrestling @wardlow and a few others asked to be tagged in fic for specific wrestlers. However, as mentioned it’s getting hard to keep track. 

So folks can either opt into all or opt out of all (I won’t be offended!). My fic can also be tracked using my hashtag #elitehunter fanfiction. (If you were tagged in this post, please let me know if you’d like to continue being tagged in new fic or not please!)

Anyone who requests or provides a prompt for a story (requests are still closed for a while), will always be tagged. Anonymous is currently off and will remain that way for a while as well.

Masterlist

My interactive desktop masterlist has been updated here, but still needs some cleaning up as do my actual entries. But you can sort by rating, company, wrestler, series, one shot/multi chapter, or completion status.

I am toying with making a standard mobile accessible list, too. However -- I now have over 57 stories published, some of which have multiple chapters. It may take me a while to organize that list efficiently. So unless I get a bunch of people telling me this would be helpful for them, I may just advise people to visit on AO3.

Requests/Prompts

While I am going to be keeping requests closed for a while, I have about 20 different stories in various stages (from outlined to nearly finished) in the works, so I may ask folks for help picking prompts with those now and then if I’m feeling stuck!

Okay, I think that’s it. Love you all. 

#amanda writes fic

[fannishcodex]

2021 Entrapdak Positivity Month: #04

#04 Cleaning

*self-conscious because have seen cute sweet cleaning fanart, and instead i wanted to interpret this completely differently*

A/N: Role Swap AU and Gen Swap AU and Mirrorverse/Moral Swap AU...also just collectively Swap AU at the moment.

Some shortish notes on my Swap AU: Adora is one of many magitech androids (collectively called the She-Ra) that serve their creator, highly advanced and rogue A.I. Light Hope. Adora gets stranded on Etheria and ends up leading the Royal Alliance, a consolidation of royalty and nobles tightening control over the planet. The Alliance dethroned Bright Moon's original monarchy and took over. Hordak is a young soldier training to serve the Royal Alliance and trying to prove himself despite his physical “defect,” until he finds a mysterious magitech sword made by the First Ones. The sword contains a sentient A.I. that goes by Anillis. Since he was little, Hordak has been in the custody of C'yra, shadow sorcerer-general of the Royal Alliance. Since she was little, Princess Entrapta of Dryl has been in the custody of Princesses Perfuma, Mermista, and Frosta. When taken on trips to Bright Moon Castle, Entrapta likes spending time with Hordak, something they have enjoyed since they first met as young children. Hordak and Entrapta are teenagers while Adora, C'yra, Perfuma, Mermista, and Frosta, etc., are adults.

Before things get better, I've been brainstorming things are worse in this AU than they are in canon; like, for example, I’ve been imagining Swap!Royal Alliance worse than Etherian Horde partly because they're already explicitly more in control of Etheria and have a longer history of ruling the planet.

And now I experiment more with clues about events in the AU while writing a character and relationship study under different circumstances in a different world. The events of this may or may not be included in some form in my main swap fic on ao3, but it’s definitely been part of my brainstorming for it.

---

Hordak winced, and Entrapta flinched, shaking hands and the wet cloth they held jerking away from the deep claw marks on his back.

"I'm sorry." Her voice was small. "But I have to clean...this."

"'S'fine," Hordak mumbled, just tired and pained, and Entrapta ached all the more. But she resumed cleaning the bloody wounds that marred her partner, her hands steadying as she went. Entrapta wondered if he would walk away with more scars left behind by his adoptive mother, and her jaw clenched.

Something grazed her ear, and she recoiled without a thought, Hordak asked what's wrong—something was on her head—they were in the woods, and Perfuma could control plants, this was the worst place to be, it didn't matter that her adoptive guardians should've been back at the Alliance headquarters in Bright Moon Castle—

With one hand clutching Hordak's shoulder and the damp cloth pinned against his skin, Entrapta pulled out her shock baton and looked around, breathing harshly. She felt Hordak tense, but he waited, trusting her. Then Entrapta hesitantly calmed, put her baton away, and finally checked her head, finding two dry leaves—one on her shoulder and one with its stem loosely stuck through a little of her tightly shorn hair. She brushed off the foliage (free of magical control), apologized to Hordak and told him it was nothing, everything's okay, they were okay. 

Then she heard Evenstar start beeping in a rapid stream, and she and Hordak quickly glanced at the pale blue, circular robot. But she only stood over the First Ones sword that had been dropped to the ground, beeping at it in what she and likely Hordak realized was amiable, excited chatter. Eventually, the sword beeped back, at a slower, slightly deeper, somehow more elegant-sounding clip. Its green gem had a line of crackling white that moved up and down in jagged peaks as it made sounds, and it seemed to glow brighter.

"Oh, you know binary too—um, Anillis?" Entrapta tried, hoping she got the sword A.I.'s name right. She should focus—these wounds were awful—but she desperately wanted some distraction for her and Hordak. But she could multitask. After quickly scrubbing her freckled cheeks dry—a few panic-stricken tears had slipped out again—Entrapta resumed cleaning Hordak's wounds, and listened for the A.I.'s response.

"So far Evenstar is speaking a form of binary I'm familiar with," Anillis's voice emanated from the sword, switching back to her and Hordak's native tongue, and again Entrapta was fascinated. Anillis sounded very much like Hordak, just older—and of course, he was also an A.I. housed inside a magitech sword, an amazing example of First Ones tech! Of course, that was exciting too. But the specificity of the A.I. sounding like Hordak fascinated her even more. Had the A.I. imprinted on Hordak and developed an approximation of his voice? So many questions.  

"Evenstar," Hordak rasped out, and Entrapta took a breath and tried wringing out the cloth stained with blue blood and dipping it in the river again. 

Resources were scarce after their unplanned escape from the Royal Alliance. She had just ripped off a part of her coat for cleaning Hordak's wounds, and she just had the river to rely on. Fortunately, Anillis had encouraged Hordak to dip him—the sword—oh this could get confusing—to dip the sword in the river beforehand. Hordak's eyes had changed again, but this time they all turned green, no trace of red was left; the emergence of slit pupils turned a glowing white instead of a deep black; and extra eyes didn't split open on his face. And the sword had hummed with energy again, as if preparing to shoot off the energy blasts she'd just witnessed hours ago—but this time the energy made some of the river's water angrily bubble, boiling it, and Entrapta understood what Anillis had wanted to try. Entrapta had waited for the boiled portion of the river to cool, then dipped her makeshift cloth in the water and began cleaning Hordak's injuries. She hoped it had been enough to clear the water of potential contaminants.

"Evensta—Evie, could you keep watch, please?" Hordak sounded even weaker, and Entrapta checked his forehead with a quick graze of her hand—still slick with sweat. What if the wounds had already been infected during the fight or while they fled on Evie? Then again, Hordak's desperate fight with C'yra had been brutal. Of course it made him sweat. (But could it mean more now?)

The robot gave an affirmative beep for her injured creator. "I can assist Evenstar as well," Anillis added.

"Oh...you—you can?" Hordak said, and from his voice Entrapta could picture his eyes getting glazier. Finally she just tore off another piece of her coat, providing a new piece of cloth to try to clean Hordak's wounds with.

"If we need any mobility, that's all on Evenstar," Anillis dryly said, and Entrapta felt a small stab of guilt over just leaving him-inside-the-sword lying on the grass like that and not even propped up against a tree, but Hordak had just finally collapsed and Entrapta had only thought of helping him up—Entrapta took a breath. She needed to calm down. Anillis showed zero problem with this, he must've understood; only she was starting to fret over this. There was no time for that, Hordak needed her more.

"But I can help her with surveillance at least," the sword A.I. continued. "My sensors should be enough for that." 

After that, with two A.I. on guard, and Entrapta focused on Hordak's wounds, all went quiet in the Whispering Woods. Finally Entrapta shredded her whole jacket for cleaning wounds and then makeshift bandaging wrapped tight around Hordak's torso. She tended to his armor, particularly on his arms. Claw marks had been gouged through the metal there, but they seemed to have held up better than Hordak’s skin and clothes against a magicat sorcerer. Entrapta did what she could, and told herself she would do more once she scrounged up more resources.

Finally, she helped her partner lie down, and joined him, resting beside him. She wanted to curl close to him, but worried about aggravating his wounds. At least she was close enough for him to reach out to her, and for her to get flustered and tell him he shouldn't move, before quieting when his stiff, trembling hand found her cheek and finally relaxed when he touched her; and she relaxed just as much under his talons, gentle with her even while he clearly suffered and had been thoroughly made into a cruelly clawed up scratching post.

Entrapta closed her eyes as his talons threaded through her short hair.

"I wanna grow it out," Entrapta murmured. "Perfuma and the others wouldn't let me, but..."

Her throat thickened at the thought of her own adoptive guardians. Then her eyes burned. "Oh jeez, did I make you run away just so I can finally grow my hair out?"

"'Course not," Hordak simply said. "And I—I did want this too—I did want to leave—and leave with you—"

Her partner took a shuddering breath, and Entrapta shook her head. "Never mind, don't. Just save your strength. We can talk more when you're better."

"Just talk, please," Hordak said, closing his eyes, his hand growing a little more slack so that it slipped away from Entrapta's hair and just rested on her cheek now. She anticipated it sliding off when he finally fell asleep, and planned to catch it and place his hand gently on the ground instead when that time came. "I just...just wanna listen." Hordak's language was usually more precise than this, and the fact that it wasn't pointed to the severity of his pain and exhaustion.

Entrapta gulped down another breath. This was ridiculous, she hadn't suffered awful injuries like Hordak, why did she keep finding it hard to breathe?

"Sure, can do." She tried to smile, but it wobbled.

And then Entrapta struggled for words. This was the worst time for that. When it was just her and Hordak, words were easier, she didn't have to carefully navigate them like she had to with her guardians and other royals and nobles and Alliance members. Why were words failing her now, just when Hordak needed them the most?

"Thank you for coming with me when I asked you to," Entrapta finally murmured, her voice wet. She removed Hordak's hand, so that it would be easier to place her own hand on his bruised cheek. "I know we had talked about it before, sometimes, but we had never really...decided on anything, and..." Entrapta sobbed.

She scrubbed her freckled face dry again, then placed her hand back on Hordak. His eyes remained shut, and his breathing had leveled out somewhat; he seemed completely knocked out now. She would have to repeat this to him later. "You mean the world to me...so, thank you. Thank you for coming with me." 

There was a noise.

Entrapta reached for her baton and placed a quieting hand on Hordak, starting to wake up. Catching her eye, he stilled.

They heard Evenstar revving her laser, until Anillis’s voice broke through, saying, “Wait. Hold your fire, that’s—she’s not an enemy, I know her—”

“Ani dearie?” That sounded like an old woman, and Entrapta began to relax, even as her confusion mounted. She frowned when Hordak started getting up to his elbows, but she helped him rise.

“Anillis,�� the sword A.I. corrected, sounding more quietly awed without a trace of irritation. “You’re still here.”

“Of course I am, now wh—” When she came into view of Entrapta and Hordak (now sitting up), the old woman paused, staring at them.

“Oh, Kadroh dearie!” The stranger said, rushing over remarkably fast and briefly reminding Entrapta of a cute little white hedgehog. But when she came a little too close for comfort to a startled Hordak, Entrapta stepped in between them.

But when the old woman ducked under her arm, Entrapta blankly thought, Touché. Boy, she was tired and ready to sleep for like a hundred days or something.

“Kadroh, where have you and Ani been—oh dear, you’re hurt—”

“Um, ma’am, I’m sorry, but you have me mistaken for—I’m Hordak, not...”

“He’s right, Razz,” Anillis said, voice low. “Look at his eyes, look at his crest—”

The old woman—Razz squinted behind her big round glasses. Then her voice softened. “Yes, I see now...so similar, though...you’re Kadroh’s younger brother, aren’t you?”

Entrapta gaped. For as long as she remembered, Hordak had been an orphan and in General C’yra’s custody. Hordak turned to Anillis-in-the-sword. “What’s going on, you still haven’t explained anything—!”

“I will when you’re bleeding out a little less,” the sword A.I. snapped back. Then more calmly, he said, “Razz, do you have a place where we could stay?”

“Of course, dear, same as last time.” Then Razz turned, offering Hordak a hand. “Here, let Madame Razz and your violet friend here help you up—”

Then Evenstar beeped and scuttled forward. “That’s okay, Evie can give Hordak a ride,” Entrapta said, taking her partner’s hand. Then she paused, looked from Razz to Hordak. “You’re okay with this, right? Razz seems nice, and real nonthreatening, Anillis apparently knows her—and sorry for talking about you even though you’re right here.” She shot Razz a somewhat embarrassed look.

“Don’t fret, dearie,” Razz said, giving a smile so calming Entrapta immediately felt a little more relaxed.

“It’s fine, I want—” Hordak winced, and Entrapta held him. “I want answers, and Razz and the sword seem to know—”

“Anillis,” Entrapta corrected him without thinking, and Hordak glared at the ground.

“You can trust Razz,” Anillis said, his voice breaking in again. He sounded detached, but Entrapta thought it was the sort of detached she tried to use with the princesses when she wanted to hide stuff. “She’s an old friend.”

Hordak’s only response was to place a hand on Evenstar, and Entrapta helped him up, settling him on top of his robot. Then she moved to grab the sword, but Razz had already picked him up.

“It’s all right, I’ve got Ani here.”

“Anillis,” the sword repeated, but more out of reflex with less intent on actually being heard. “We’re fine, Entrapta.”

Entrapta nodded, then climbed on top of Evenstar. She’d support Hordak if he started to slump down in exhaustion or actually fell asleep—either way, she’d be there holding him up and making sure he didn’t fall off his robot.

Holding Hordak close, Entrapta and him rode away on Evenstar, following Razz while she held the sword, its green gem glowing in the dark of the woods. 

---

A/N: There are some more direct swaps, and some more partial swaps. Like Hordak < — > Adora + Shadow Weaver < — > C'yra more directly, while Entrapta is partially swapped with Scorpia (cheerful Etherian princess raised in antagonist-aligned faction, though I imagine Swap!Entrapta's situation is pretty explicitly worse than Mainverse!Scorpia's) + just exploring Entrapta with a more explicitly traumatic background. (And been brainstorming that Swap!Scorpia more just Gen Swap and protagonist-aligned but still fighting the Royal Alliance, and there'll be no shifting down the line because she's more adamant about resisting the more corrupt Royal Alliance).

Perfuma, Mermista, and Frosta are just generally swapped from protagonist-aligned to antagonist-aligned and not with any specific characters, except maybe also elements of Shadow Weaver actually; they're Gen Swap and Mirrorverse/Moral Swap and explorations of Perfuma+Mermista+Frosta being older and stronger in their magic and more corrupt with their power.

And swapping can also just be pretty fluid/more sorta experimental. For example, C'yra < — > Shadow Weaver directly enough, but C'yra also still just as obsessed with the transforming wielder of the magic sword that rebels and defects, but now framed as an abusive mother than an abusive companion. (There won’t be any reconciliation between Swap!Hordak and Swap!C’yra.) Another example: Swap!Anillis also swapping around Light Hope’s and Horde Prime’s demeanor with being less robotic/a little more visibly snarky, as well as more concerned and invested rather than cold and uncaring.

Like in the mainverse, Emily = Evenstar and created by Hordak, but they're closer in this AU—Hordak personally built her and she's the only one he's created so far, Evenstar hasn’t been mass produced. Her name and paintjob are different since Hordak drew more from the leftover Bright Moon culture/decor he grew up in while he was raised in Bright Moon Castle.

#entrapdak positivity month #entrapdak positivity month 2021 #entrapta #hordak #role swap au

[botwstoriesandsuch]

[Image ID: A screenshot of an anon asking saying “I just wanna say that your tags whenever you rb art and fics are so cute 🥺 you reblogged something of mine the other day and the tags were just so nice and innocent??? It’s like watching a little kid at an aquarium 😝so as an artist I thank you, hope you don’t take it as cringy” End ID]

- - - - - 

Cringey?? nonononono I may be a young kid watching the pretty fish swim aimlessly in the aquarium but I will

recklessly enjoy other people’s content don’t test me

I try to keep it in the tags cause I don’t wanna take away from the op’s original work, plus it makes it easier for other people to rb it from me, but I will amp up the love and appreciation when the situation calls for it. You could straight up come into my inbox or messages and just ask me to give you a reblog and I will do it, I do not care I love you, content creators.

Cringe Culture is dead it’s time to gush plus if I do this often enough people might do it more for me so it’s a win win hehe

Legit, I got a super sweet comment on one of my fics quoting something I wrote and it made me so happy so I was like “huh, guess I’ll do that more often then” and now I’m doing that, that’s how impressionable I am asdfghjk

Also hello?? specifically *my* tags helped you out?? I am a nobody, CLEARLY not enough people are doing this smh, allow me to teach the masses for a sec here

How To Make A Content Creator Happy: the world’s simplest guide to spreading serotonin through a keyboard

Step fucking one) You reblog it. I mean, that’s a given. You’ve all seen those “reblogs help creators out and likes do nothing” posts so I won’t rant too much. Likes are good, but reblogs are like handing someone a stack of a hundred dollars and all it takes is one click! 

(PRO TIP: Hold down the button and swipe for mobile, and hold the left alt button and click once for computer [though it will only rb to your main blog. if you want it for a side-blog then you’re stuck with two clicks but HEY two clicks to help out a creator you like is nothing!])

You share it! Just share stuff. Share the ao3 like, please do it. Don’t repost, don’t just mention it, give the links especially when you’re just in conversation or talking about it around plz I swear it does wonders

Ok moving on to the super simple stuff for commenting and putting stuff in the tags because I guarantee that the op will read them

write A N Y T H I N G and I literally mean anything just fucking:

!!!!!!!

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

sdjflksdjfkjh

?!?!?!?!!?

hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhghghhhhhhhhh

:OOOOOOOOO

prettyyy

<33333333333333333

just fucking go ham, go nuts, it doesn’t need to be coherent it just needs to EXIST the very existence of someone enjoying someone’s content gives so much serotonin so stop being silent cowards and give us a smiley face from time to time

uh what else what else....hmm [golden rule is treat others the way you want to be treated, so if you’re a creator yourself, just give whatever you would want seen in the comments of your stuff! I mean that’s how I came up with all this...]

Point out the details! I mentioned earlier about quoting stuff from fics (that stuff is just 👌👌👌 so delicious) but I’m pretty sure (I’m not an artist myself don’t quote me) that the exact same effect is present when you talk about details in art or something. So talk about that pretty snowflake in the background! Or that piece of dialogue that made you laugh. Just a simple nod to the details is a big difference between saying “I like this” versus “I like this thing that you took the time to make the effort you put into the details did not go unnoticed”

just ALL the feedback please and thank you

this might vary from person to person, though personally I love when people are like “The way you write imagery is so good please do more!!” so just give a little nod to someone like “The way you draw this character is amazing please do more” or something like that

I wouldn’t go as far as to give criticism (although personally I’m the type of person that loves the occasionally critique for future reference, cause it means that you care as much as I do about the quality of my work) 

But along the same lines as the details thing, a nice nod to a creator about what they’re doing right is sooooo good! makes the butterflies flutter

                ~~~~~~Did that post give you emotions?~~~~~~

   G   O   O   D

 ~~FUCKING TELL US~~

THE ACT OF SOMEONE WRITING A SET OF LETTERS, OR SOMEONE SKETCHING A BLOB MADE ANOTHER DISTANT HUMAN BEING DEVELOP CHEMICALS IN THEIR BRAIN?? SURE WOULD LOVE TO KNOW THAT BECAUSE WOW THAT’S AMAZING!?!??

just go “I’m so happy” or “I’m so sad” just “TT__TT” just fucking “:OO” or just “I hate this” [HUMOURISTICALLY] and “I can’t believe you’ve done” just give it yes tell us the emotion that you have felt we love it

I don’t think enough people understand how amazing that is???? You were once in a normal, neutral state, and then a piece of content that I created just made you smile or laugh or cry like WHAT that’s amazing omg

Ok so that’s pretty much the simple stuff right, that’s your elementary classwork right there

Just give something, literally anything and just go “I love this so much!!!!!” bam done, you just murdered the op with your love, great job

So yeah, that’s that. Pretty simple stuff, no?

...but you wanna graduate to master class?

You wanna fucking go ape shit

you wanna just

g o    t o    town?

I said this was gonna be a simple guide so don’t worry, I’m not gonna tell you that you have to write a full length essay on every post that you come across

[BUT IF YOU WANT TO DON’T LET ME STOP YOU THAT WOULD ACTUALLY BE AMAZING?? HELL WRITING OUT A PARAGRAPH OF A COMMENT IS ALREADY JUST *CHEFS KISS* MASTERCLASS OF MURDERING THE OP WITH LOVE JUST ANALYZING THE SHIT OUT OF THE COLORS AND SHADING AND FRAMING OR JUST POINTING OUT THE THEMES AND SUBTEXT AND CHARACTERIZATION --part of the reason I love betaing stuff so much because I can analyze shit and shower it with premature love while also helping fics to be even better than they were originally ugh so cleansing for my literature heart-- SO YEAH GIVE CREATORS A PARAGRAPH, DARE I DREAM OF PARAGRAPHS, BECAUSE WOW YES PLEASE YES]

...ahem anyway

the way to graduate from good to great as a receiver of content is

to do all this

any of this

any of this simple stupid amazing shit

and just

put it in an ask or message

that’s literally it

Let me tell you why that’s so amazing, it pumps up the already amazing dopamine dosage of these actions alone, and multiplies it by a hundred, let me tell you why

Let’s say you read a drabble. You loved it, you reblogged it, you gave it hearts and emojis and ranted for a few tags about how it made you drop your muffin on the ground. Fantastic work, you just made the op pass out.

Then you go about your day and that’s the end of that.

BUT

if you do all that

and then put it in an ASK

dare you even a direct message?? (probably not most of us on here are cowards I get that)

but an ASK, anon or otherwise?

The message you just sent to the op was “I interacted with the post you made, and I loved it so much that I went the extra mile of going to your blog to make extra extra sure you understand how much I liked your thing”

There’s a wordless wall with every post! You like and reblog the thing and move on with your day. 

But the fact that YOU sent a HEART a SINGLE sentence about how you liked a thing? the fact that you BREACHED that wall and just fucking keyboard smashed in the inbox? the fact that you did that is the most amazing thing in the world

you just ambush the op with good vibes. we were expecting the bare minimum in the comments and tags, but the fact you when out of your way to make it a message or ask???? superb, outstanding, the sheer SHOCK of it will shift tectonic plates

you’re my fucking hero if you do this. you’re a godsend. I would kill for you,👏people👏would👏kill👏for👏you.

AT LEAST THEY WOULD KILL FOR YOU IF THIS ACTION DIDN’T ALREADY MURDER THEM

BE A MURDERER, NAY, A SERIAL KILLER. MURDER CONTENT CREATORS WITH LOVE

BE RECKLESSLY KIND AND LOVING YOU PIECE OF SHIT, ITS IMPOSSIBLE TO BE CRINGY TO STARVING AND DYING WRITERS AND ARTISTS WE WILL TAKE IT ALL GOD DAMMIT

YOU ARE A CHILD STARING UP AT AN AQUARIUM IN WONDER.

MAKE YOUR HAPPINESS STIR THE TIDES, LET YOUR PRESCENCE BE KNOWN PAST THE REFLECTION OF THE GLASS.

THE FISH ARE LOOKING FOR YOUR SMILE. 

#I had to write this post in ANTI-ADHD format so that people would actually pay attention to it so apologies to the neurotypicals #IMPORTANT #👏give👏content👏to👏content👏creators👏 #cause unlike for you guys the content we want doesnt need to be the highest quality #we just want a sentence about how it made you feel is that too much to ask? #just one keyboard spam plz #idk what else to tag this as #its 1 am and i have thoughts #art #not botw #writing #i just realized the analogy of fish and creators is a bit weird #i dont mean to imply that our entire existence relies on your feedback #i mean it kind of does #BUT #we're not animals and we don't OWE you content #so uh #all the more reason to give people a heart every now and then right? #this is getting a bit ranty #i'll leave before i embarrass myself further #long post