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#tagging these all in case anyone has this filtered

vikingpoteto · 29 days

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I've seen people compare Lucas setting up a meeting between Jean and Grayson to Luther bringing Drake to see Andrew, but I don't think that's fair or accurate. I think Lucas parallels Nicky in this situation.

Yes, Lucas had more than enough evidence that Grayson harmed Jean, just like Luther heard from Andrew that Drake was an abuser.

However, Lucas' denial comes from a place of grief. Lucas loved his brother, he couldn’t accept that the person he grew up with became such a monster. Even though Grayson had been violent towards Lucas himself, there is a part of him that refuses to believe Grayson would go that far. Until the last moment, Lucas was telling himself that his brother couldn’t be the villain (even though a part of him suspected the truth, given the fact that he tries to keep the gate closed between them.)

Just like Lucas, Nicky knew it was unlikely his parents were going to accept him but he wanted to try again, unlikely as it may be.

Lucas asking Jean to follow him as a desperate attempt to get his brother back isn't different.

#poteto rambling #the sunshine court #the sunshine court spoilers #lucas johnson #jean moreau #tsc spoilers #aftg #tagging these all in case anyone has this filtered #abuse mention #god i just realized his name is grayson johnson #his parents really named him sonson huh #grayson johnson

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e77y · 2 months

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Hiiii woke up at like 4 am from a dream in which someone saw my car pulling out of a narrow driveway and decided to drive directly into it on purpose because she had ‘waited too long and got annoyed’? I got out to scream at her and she had a bunch of huge tattoos that all matched her t-shirt (which was also the only article of clothing she was wearing—yes, including underwear). And I thought they were very cool so the first thing I did was compliment her (although for some reason I did make fun of the fact that her shirt looked like it was from Shein). Then she started showing off other cool shit about herself (I guess to win me over?), like the fact that her irises and pupils were CLEAR? And then I turned around to look at the completely crushed front of my car and got so pissed off that I woke up. And I was covered in sweat and blood bc I started my period LMAO

#dreams #last bit might be tmi but shrug #I want to start keeping my (funny) dreams on here bc. I made a tag for it I might as well #blood #tw blood #in case anyone has it filtered out #cw blood #okay that’s all of them I hope #anwyay #I am so sleepy but too lucid to go back to sleep I fear #I wasn’t planning on getting up until like 7:45 ish #and I won’t be able to go to sleep tonight until midnight or later bc of the show….. sigh #I’m going to TRY to sleep ☝️#goodnight :3

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5ummit · 1 year

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New Mature Content Warning Overlay (And How to Get Rid of It)

More fun community label "features"! Unlike the new mandatory label for #NSFW, this one is a bigger deal to me because it affects my entire blog and it can't be avoided by just using a different tag.

Apparently on custom blog layouts, if you happen to post or reblog even a SINGLE post that's been flagged with the mature content community label, a full-page warning overlay will appear blurring out your entire blog that must be manually clicked through every single time the page is refreshed. At first I thought this was just a bug due to my older layout but I've come to realize it's not. It's a feature (as confirmed by this recent changes post) that affects all custom themes. The formatting will vary based on your own theme but here's what it looks like on my blog:

I don't know about you but I find this is stupid and annoying. If it could be dismissed once and never seen again that might be one thing, but that's not the case. The vast majority of my blog is not "mature" enough to warrant such an aggressive and invasive warning. I also think pop-ups are obnoxious in general and I'll be damned if tumblr's going to force me to have one on MY blog.

After some desperate googling for a known workaround and being unable to find even a single mention of it, I decided to take on the challenge myself. I'm not a theme coder, so apologies if there's a better way to do this, but luckily it only took me like 10 minutes to figure out a simple fix, which I'm now sharing with anyone else who may want it:

.community-label-cover__wrapper {display: none}

Just copypaste that somewhere in your CSS and goodbye pop-up!

If you're not sure how to access your theme code, check out this help article. You can also add the code via the Advanced Options menu, which is actually even better (if you can get it to work, it depends on how your theme was coded), because it will then automatically be reapplied to a lot of themes without having to remember to manually add it every time if you change your theme in the future.

Obviously this will only remove it from your own blog for anyone who may visit it. If you never want to see this warning again on other people's blogs you can also add this custom filter to your ad block:

tumblr.com##.community-label-cover__wrapper

Unfortunately I do not have an easy tutorial on hand for this one as the method will depend on your specific ad block app or extension.

Some additional notes:

After adding the theme code and saving the changes, give it a minute to update as it sometimes takes a little while for the page to refresh.

The warning overlay only seems to appear if a "mature" post is on the FIRST page of your blog, which is still annoying and makes the whole thing even more pointless and stupid because what if someone visits any other page of your blog, and oh no, happens to see "mature" content they weren't warned about?!

The warning also appears on direct links to "mature" posts.

This hack has NOTHING to do with entire blogs that have been flagged as NSFW. It only works for non-flagged blogs with custom themes that happen to have individual "mature" posts.

#I'm not letting my entire blog be penalized for a couple rare singular posts that may or may not even be 'mature' enough to warrant it #tumblr may force us to use community labels #and they may have full control over the new blogview #but MY custom blog layout has always been and always will be MINE to format and present however I want #that's the whole point #tumblr #psa #tutorial #my words #tumblr themes #wendy's help desk

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ao3commentoftheday · 6 months

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I've never orphaned a fic, but I'm glad AO3 has the option to do that. When I was in my late teens, I deleted all of my work from FFN because I thought I was done writing fanfic and for some reason got the idea into my head that it was dangerous to just leave them up, in case future employers or whoever found them. Even though I was writing very tame, mostly K+ and T rated stuff based on relatively uncontroversial original works. *facepalm*

Anyway, if I'd had the option to orphan my fics back then, I think I probably would have done that instead of deleting them. I wish it had been an option. I don't intend on ever orphaning what I'm writing now, but it makes me happy to know that if I ever did want to no longer be associated with it, I'd have the option to do that without taking it offline completely.

It's things like the orphan feature that really highlight the fact that AO3 was created and is maintained by fans. The people who volunteer there are also people who read fic and people who write fic. They get it.

Other features that I think are fantastic include, but are not limited to:

being able to have private bookmarks

being able to subscribe to a single fic, or to a fic series or to an author

the Fannish Next of Kin system whereby you can set a guardian for your fics in case of your death or incapacitation

site skins, which allow you to change the look and feel of the site to something that works best for you

the ability to have a pseudonym account on your main account, so if you want separate our your works that way you can

Tag Wranglers, who read all of the weird and wacky ways we tag our fics and make them searchable and filterable in the database

the search and filter capabilities!!

otp:true

the kudos feature, so I can still show love even when I don't have words

RSS feed capability

the ability to restrict access to my works and to restrict comments on my works

blocking and muting!

never having to click the Proceed button again

Anyone else have a favourite feature that I didn't list above? (if any of my points is new to you, lemme know - I'm always happy to do a deep dive)

#asks and answers

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hitlikehammers · 3 months

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take the call

rating: t ♥️ cw: off-screen car accident (but EVERYTHING IS FINE), hurt/comfort, softness ♥️ tags: established relationship, married steddie, hurt/comfort, rockstar Eddie/teacher Steve, Steve's heart of gold is very possibly going to be Eddie's undoing one of these days, well-worn-soul-deep love

for @steddielovemonth day eighteen: Love is terrifying (@starryeyedjanai)

set in the 00s, with Steve and Eddie having two decades of loving under their belts, now ♥️

Eddie isn’t expecting a call, any call, really; he’s in the studio, like, if he gets a call someone takes a message or whatever.

And in fairness, Eddie doesn’t get the call.

He gets a message.

“Eddie?”

He rolls his eyes kinda automatically, kinda thoughtlessly at the cut of the audio track to let the mic system override from outside the booth.

“Okay, so, like, don’t freak out.”

He’s not thoughtless at all about the way he clocks the tension in Jeff’s voice even across the speaker system; it’s entirely automatic how he freezes, how he looks up and locks eyes with his friend through the glass and sucks in a sharp breath for the look on his face: pained.

Maybe, maybe scared.

Eddie’s heart drops somewhere near his knees, but beats there so fucking hard.

“This lady called, and she said she found Lainie’s card inside the case of a phone she picked up,” and okay, okay, that’s…that’s random but maybe it’s about their assistance manger, who just got her contract confirmed and got fancy new business cards for it and has been handing them out to everybody she sees, even gave Eddie extras to pass on to Steve, maybe he can share them at the school as if anyone at even a hoity-toity private 6-through-12 school would have a reason for a card from a record label but she’s excited, and Eddie’s excited for her, and Steve loves the people Eddie works with, and not just because they’re attached to Eddie and he loves the things that come with Eddie as a given—but that’s also true, and always has been, but—

“She, um,” Jeff’s voice is filtering through again, and Eddie clocks that there’s…there’s something more to it, more than his brain’s willing to grasp just yet but his body’s apparently picked up on because he thinks the slightest breeze would knock him over and shatter him into pieces, for the tightness in his body; he’s not focused enough to count the separate beats of his pulse but he can tell it’s quick enough already, still weighed down near his feet, that counting would be kinda hard, would take effort:

“She found the phone at a car crash?”

So: the more-to-it. The thing his body already knew.

Eddie…Eddie doesn’t even need to know what comes next to know he cannot fucking breathe.

“Sounded kinda like, uh, like it could have been Steve’s phone,” Jeff is trying to tell him, and part of Eddie hears it, part of him does but most of him is white noise, is pins-and-needles, is underwater and drowning and not even fucking thinking of fighting the pull because he can’t, he’s heavy at the legs and his lungs are seizing and there’s, he’s—

“Because it, umm, she found the card because the case was broken?” and just last night Eddie’d watched Steve pop off the case and slide the cards behind with a laugh and a promise to take them with him not today—because it’s one of those federal holidays that only schools notice happening, like the post office is still open—but definitely tomorrow, never knew which of the kiddos at the Rich People School might be a budding metalhead underneath their uniforms—

“And she said the case was, um, like bright—“

Green.

Electric lime neon fuckin’ green because after three times of Eddie taking Steve’s phone by accident he’d come home with that endearing eyesore, and a kiss to the bridge of Eddie’s nose and a soft hard to confuse that, babe nuzzled against him and—

“It could maybe have just been a coincide—“ Jeff’s talking but Eddie can’t fucking hear it, not really, not when he’s letting the door slam behind him and ripping off his headphones to drop to the groundnut when he’s gasping hard enough to crack a rib, not when the floor’s gone out from underneath him and his vision’s tunneled and nothing seems real, and everything feels too real, every world ending possibility shuddering through his foggy mind alongside every heartbreakingly perfect memory blossoming up unbidden just to serve as a reminder, an underscoring of what he stands to lose, what maybe he’s already fucking lost—

He meets Jeff’s eyes without the glass between them as he grabs his keys from his jacket on the couch and makes himself take the breath that’ll fuel the voice, that’ll give him words, just one word, he needs, he fucking needs—

“Where?”

_______________________

Eddie shouldn’t have driven himself, he knows that.

Like, on some other plane of existing, he’s sure he knows that.

But on this plane, he rips past his bandmates, all the extra people with them for recording, jams the close-door button before anyone can follow him into the elevator because he happens to know this one’s quicker than the stairs even on a good day, and this—

Eddie’s shaking so goddamn hard he can barely get one foot in front of the other, he really doesn’t think he can manage ten fucking flights of steps.

He burns rubber on the way out of the parking lot, and the nearest hospital to where Steve would have been—on his day off, because holiday, he’d have bene close to home, he mentioned food shopping, he thought he might make stir-fry but he wasn’t sure, they hadn’t made a vegetable haul from the Asian market downtown in a couple weeks and they need to, they need to but Steve wasn’t feeling like going on his own, because he might not say it out loud but they both know he enjoys Eddie’s excitability when new items hit the shelves and he can’t read the language they’re labelled in so he guesses frantically until the man who owns the place takes pity, only laughs a little and explains what this spice is for, or that that crazy looking thing’s a fruit, and they ultimately buy whatever it is because Eddie wants to try it now, because he got invested and—

Eddie should pull off the fucking road; his head’s a mess, he can’t see for the way his eyes are welling, streaming, the way he’s shaking with sobs that don’t exactly burst forth, just leak from his lashes as he trembles horrifically because…

Because they were maybe gonna have stir-fry, tonight. Even without the good vegetables.

They were—

Eddie thinks it’s fucking cruel, kind of unbearably so, that his brain’s dead-set on still processing the mundane little perfections of his life as if every single one of them might be dashed to pieces, might be hanging by a thread, might be entirely fucking gone, and he, he…

He can’t. He just, he fucking can’t.

Because that the thing, isn’t it: the scenarios he’s imagining aren’t hypothetical—they’re all memories, too. Steve bloodied, Steve bruised, Steve’s bones broken and flesh torn. Steve still, too still; Steve’s skin under Eddie’s hands when he can’t find a pulse because Eddie’s shaking, same as now how Eddie is fucking shaking—

Eddie knows all those things. They’re so long ago, now, so distant but his fucking cells will never forget every single moment he saw the man he loves bigger than his own goddamn life hurt like that; be risked like that. Be lost like—

And that’s the difference. That’s what is unravelling him as he speeds through the streets quicker than he should, probably breaking more laws than he could count and definitely more than he gives a shit to notice: it’s the losing.

Because the first times, even the times that came after Steve was his: they didn’t come with the loss of so much time, so much of themselves, so much glorious life that they’d built between them, the struggles and the triumphs, the hard choices and the easy things that weren’t choices at all: everything hand-in-hand, every night spent curled around each other, all of them, all of him, inside that chest since he was twenty fucking year old, and Eddie doesn’t just not know how to be outside of what he shares with Steve.

Eddie doesn’t think his own heart can survive, if if Steve’s isn’t next to him.

Eddie’s damn fucking sure no part of him would want to.

It takes him a minute to steady himself enough to get out of the car, once he finally reaches the ER. Steady his body, but more his fucking soul because the whole of him is shaking, is crying out, is wailing unfettered and breaking because he’s terrified, he is goddamn terrified of what he’s going to find when he walks in but he has to, he has to because whatever awaits him, that’s his husband, that is the love of his whole goddamn life and if the worst is going to come for him he’ll face it like he’s faced everything else: at Steve Harrington’s side.

If the worst comes for one of them, then it came for them both.

So he’s stumbling, shuddering, but resolute in his chest when he flies through the sliding doors, eyes still swimming, unfocused but he makes himself take a deep breath—it takes a few tries, and he doesn’t quite succeed, it’s still a tremorous thing and his lungs are still in revolt, but it’s something, and he’ll take something; he has to to take something—

“Eddie?”

He almost doesn’t register it, the voice from the sick-spiral of his memories, all the love on the table to be forfeit—

He almost doesn’t register that his name’s not coming from inside his head.

“Oh my god, what happened?” There’s a flurry over motion in front of him, and he blinks rapidly to try and pin it down because it looks familiar, it smells familiar, it aches familiar in his chest but:

“What is it, what’s wrong?” and fuck, it feels familiar when a hand reaches for his cheek where it’s still damp, tacky for the tears; when another hand slides itself into Eddie’s and draws him in, a hand that fits like no other hand in this world or any other, ever—

“Are you okay?”

And the hand on his cheek turns him and follows his eyes and it takes that long for him to clear his vision properly, but now he’s just blinking so much because that, that can’t be, even if it feels in every goddamn way like it really is, but it can’t…

It can’t be Steve here, whole and on his feet and looking at Eddie with so much worry, so much heart as he tilts Eddie’s chin a little this way, that way, squints to try and see…something.

Eddie’s breath tears out of him in a wet fucking gasp;

“Am I okay?”

Because Eddie’s really not the one to fucking worry about here, Steve had—

“You’re in a hospital, Eds, that’s not usually where you go when you’re okay,” Steve’s eyes widen as he he slides both hands now to Steve’s head, holding him still and assessing…something, maybe, Jesus: Eddie doesn’t know, but he does know that the touch on him now makes his…makes his heart feel safe and he’d been fucking terrified he’d never feel that again.

“Fuck, what happened, baby, did you hit your,” and fingers are dancing gentle across points on Eddie’s skull, so delicate and careful and he can’t fucking help it—

“Are you real?”

Because he needs to know, he needs to know with words because this feels…this feels right and warm and impossible but also true, so.

He needs to know. “Am I…?” Steve’s lips part and his brow furrows before his jaw clenches in that dependable way he has of squaring up to the monster at hand, no matter the kind.

“Shit,” he breathes out slow but then he nods: resolved; “shit, okay. Okay, let’s find—“

“You are real,” and it turns out Eddie didn’t actually need him to say it. He just needed to see the flash in Steve’s eyes when he was ready to take on the world for the sake of love, the way he positions himself a little different in front of Eddie as he keeps one hand at Eddie’s cheek but then slides to brace more at his neck, purposeful, like he’s splinting a wound or something, and then a hand grabs for Eddie’s own again and: oh.

Oh yes. That is Steve Harrington, living and breathing and solid and real, because no one else protects like this.

No one.

Eddie’s heart stumbles, jackrabbits around a little, almost like a reset: like it knows as the implications sink in to Eddie’s mind that it’s not destined to break anymore.

“Yeah,” Steve agrees too easily, distracted as he tugs the gentlest bit at Eddie’s hand, toward the nurse’s station; “yeah, and we should—“

“And you’re okay?”

“I’m fine,” Steve shrugs it off, but Eddie…Eddie’s vision is clearing. His pulse is settling. He can hear above the static and his limbs are getting lighter.

“You’re one-hundred-percent okay, not a scratch on you, not a single thing wrong,” he needs to make sure, like, so fucking sure.

“I am fine, Eddie,” Steve turns to look him straight on, exasperated and anxious and vibrant with it, so alive in it; “but you’re—“

Eddie’s hand moves almost without his conscious consent, definitely without a plan to grab at Steve’s arm and pinch his skin because Eddie was vaguely toying with the idea of pinches himself, and maybe with poking Steve a few extra times to make sure he didn’t disappear, but apparently his brain landed on: pinch Steve, avoid confirmation bias if your head wants to lie enough to make him real just you you, because you need him that bad.

Steve startles, and turns those beautiful brilliant bronze eyes on Eddie, stretches wide as he gapes a little at his husband.

Eddie…Eddie is here, in front of his living-breathing-gorgeously-aghast husband.

“Okay, oww,” Steve drops Eddie’s hand and pulls back, leaving Eddie’s head to its own devices as he looks a little shocked, shooting just shy of a glare Eddie’s way: full of questions.

Eddie—now that the biggest one’s solved, and solved so perfect, so gentle and sure and he doesn’t have to bury the soul of him; he doesn’t have to bury his soul—but now?

Eddie also has some fucking questions.

“Where’s your phone?” seems the most relevant to start with.

Steve blinks, frowns a little:

“It got lost in the crash—“

“Crash?” Eddie’s tone pitches up to squeak a little because: Steve’s here and whole in from of him, yes. But fuck, there was still a crash? He was—

“Not mine, my car’s still parked at fucking Jiffy Lube,” Steve adds with a huff; “I saw it happen so I stopped and—“

And Eddie knows his husband. He knows his husband better than he knows himself, and Eddie’s kinda made it a point of pride for how self-aware he’s grown to be these days, in living this life and loving Steve beyond the bounds of living at all. But he knows his Steve, and so he knows damn well what happened.

Car runs into car. Steve sees it and jumps out to help. Because Steve Harrington is a protector. Steve Harrington is a helper. Steve Harrington is the best man Eddie’s ever known.

Soon as he jumped into the fray, he wouldn’t have thought once about a fucking phone.

And Eddie, Eddie just, he needs to—

He grabs Steve’s hands and wraps them around his own waist, lets them go and then pulls Steve tight to his chest and buries his face in Steve’s shoulder as Eddie winds his way around his husband, feels him breathing, feels the tickle of his hair.

“You’re gonna kill me, Stevie,” Eddie whimpers, that going tight now all over again:

“You’ve got the biggest heart of fucking gold the world’s ever seen,” he moans into Steve’s collar; “and you’re going to fucking kill me.”

Steve doesn’t say anything, but his hands move up to rub Eddie’s back, rote and learned and he might not wholly get, yet, what Eddie’s putting together, and where Eddie’s head’s been, what his heart’s been through, but the first thing he knows, and does like clockwork, is to love of his partner, to soothe him even if he doesn’t know what for.

“Someone found your phone, and they, umm,” Eddie licks his lips, takes a suffering breath and tries to straighten but he’s not ready, not yet: he slumps right back onto Steve’s shoulder:

“They called the studio.”

“Shit,” Steve hisses, bunches his hands in Eddie’s shirt and draws him tighter to his chest: “shit, they interrupted,” and oh, fuck no, fuck regretting the interruption—

“They told me they found it at a crash site,” Eddie grits out, the hurt of it still raw, like just saying the words no matter where they landed in trust, just recalling those minutes that felt like full nightmarish lifetimes, reopens the tender wounds it’d left in hims; “they found it with the case broken,” and Steve leans back, then, eyes saucers as he meets Eddie’s gaze, breath catches harsh.

“Oh,” Steve whispers, eyes darting back and forth between Eddie’s, taking the whole of him in and then he exhales so heavy:

“Oh, babe,” he murmurs, fucking mournful before he takes his hands and links them behind the base of Eddies’ skull and draws him in to the center of his chest, envelopes him there whole: “come here.”

And Eddie falls into that chest—rising-falling-living—he falls into Steve so fucking fast

“I am totally fine, I promise you,” Steve breathes again Eddie’s ear, close and dear and real: “car’s fine—“

“I don’t fucking care about the car—“ Eddie tenses up, appalled at the implication that he gave one single goddamn thought to the car— “No, like, as proof,” Steve’s quick to correct him, to ease the hackles on him; “I wasn’t in the crash, but it was pretty bad and,” Steve shrugs a little then adds soft: “I keep my first aid certs up to date for a reason, I figure, right?”

Jesus; yes, okay. Steve’s savior complex had largely mellowed to a non-interdimensional-threat level with time but he’s meticulous about keeping every skillset he’d gone out of his way to learn from professionals before they’d gone up against the Upside Down for the last time sharp and at the ready for anything: even now.

Fuck, but this beautiful, brilliant, impossible man.

“I was helping, best I could, until the EMTs got there,” Steve tells him softly, fills in the gaps because he knows Eddie’s mind, all the pictures it paints for itself, and in times like these it’s always the worst possible pictures—he knows Eddie needs the slate wiped clean with the truths, blessedly softer, in this:

“Police wanted me to stick around for a statement but the girl who was driving the first car, she was so panicked and she didn’t want to go alone so, umm,” Steve huffs a little, shifts against Eddie gentle and solid and here: “she said she knew me, she was pretty desperate I think, so I rode here with her,” and of course he did, of course he did because he’s Steve; “now I’m just waiting to make sure she gets out of surgery okay,” he squeezes Eddie then, like a punctuation, and it feels so, so fucking good; “also still have to give the goddamn statement, but fuck knows that’s just hurry-up-and-wait,” he turns, and he kisses Eddie’s hair then and Eddie feels something snap in him, give way and the lingering tension spill from his frame as he gasp a little on a breathy exhale:

“I love you so much,” and he does, god: god, but how much he loves this man.

“I love you too, baby,” Steve mouths against his head and Eddie closes his eyes and nuzzles his a little closer as he puts it into words, because it feels like he needs to, it feels like in Steve’s arms like this, pressed up close to him to feel this undeniable life in him: it feels like the coast is clear enough to risk it, to confess:

“I was so fucking scared,” and the words only break a little, and that’s more than Eddie honestly expected.

“I am so sorry,” Steve bows his chin down to graze lips against Eddie’s hairline, delicate and intimate and shivery, trembly down Eddie’s spin for the best of reasons, now.

“Not your fault,” Eddie’s quite to counter, to make clear, because: “shit, you didn’t do anything, I just…”

Eddie makes himself pull back and meet Steve’s eyes, reaches out to frame his face, dear and desperate:

“I can’t lose you,” he moans a little, begs a little, says it with a bare line of something primal echoing in it, scraped straight from his bones: “I cannot ever lose you.”

“I know,” Steve turns and kisses one of his palms, and those two words hold the promise of five more they’ve said so many times, and held so true between them for so many year, through so fucking much:

It’s the same for me.

And to be loved the same as he loves is a fucking privilege; it’s heady and it’s wonderful and Eddie needs it, needs Steve, more than goddamn air.

“Sit with me?” Steve covers Eddie’s hands with his at his cheeks, and nods a little toward the blessedly-quiet collection of chairs by the windows; “while I wait?”

“Nowhere else I’d go,” Eddie says it like the given that it is, and pulls Steve close to kiss him full, to press his lips to Steve’s and drink his warmth, his breath, to feel it sink int past his heart and pump through his veins:

“Not ever, Stevie,” he speaks against Steve’s lips, all of him in it, every vow inside it:

“Not ever.”

tag list (comment to be added): @pearynice @hbyrde36 @slashify @finntheehumaneater @wxrmland @dreamwatch @perseus-notjackson

♥️

divider credit here

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #hurt/comfort #established relationship #established steddie #married steddie #rockstar eddie munson #teacher steve harrington #rockstar husbands #steve harrington's heart of gold #(will quite possibly be the death of his husband holy FUCK)#criminal levels of softness #steddielovemonth #love is terrifying #these two boys have been together for DECADES at this point and it FUCKING SHOWS #old married couple!steddie #stranger things

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facingthenorthwind · 8 months

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AO3 tag capitalisation and why you can't change it

Have you ever tagged your fic in all Title Case and then discovered one of your tags has become all lowercase when you hit save? Or had it become title case when you tried to type it in lowercase? Does this offend your aesthetic sensibilities?

If you said yes to any of these questions, I would like to offer my deepest condolences. I, too, have had this problem. Unfortunately, you can't fix it (except in one very specific situation).

The first time a tag is used determines its capitalisation (unless it becomes a canonical). For example, I'm sure not everyone who tagged kylux au intended for it to be all lowercase, but the first user who tagged it capitalised it that way, and so it remains. This is because the wrangulator (the part of the AO3 backend that handles tags; yes this is what we officially call it) treats different capitalisations of a tag as the same tag, and isn't capable of having it display differently in different fics.

There are two situations where capitalisation can change: firstly, it could become the exact phrasing of a canonical tag. This is what it's called when a tag becomes filterable and multiple tags that mean the same thing (called syns) get connected together and all redirect to the canonical. For more info, you can read this post I wrote! All canonical tags get changed to title case when they're made canonical, because the tag edit page that wranglers can see enables wranglers to change the capitalisation of a tag (it also allows us to change the diacritics, but not anything else). If your tag is a synonym of that canonical, its capitalisation does not get changed, only if you've used the exact phrasing that later becomes canonical (for how to tell what kind of tag something is, please see the post I linked earlier). For example, if I was the first user of the tag "obi-wan on tatooine" and typed it all lowercase, it will remain lowercase even when the tag wrangler syns it to the canonical "Obi-Wan Kenobi on Tatooine". But if I was the first use of "obi-wan kenobi on tatooine" and typed it all lowercase, when it's canonised it will change appearance on my work to be in title case. Tag wranglers will never change the capitalisation of your tag in any other situation.

Secondly, if you are the only use on an unfilterable tag (which means it has not been synned anywhere), it is technically possible to change the capitalisation if you decide that you want to change how it looks later. In order to do so, delete the tag from your work. Then wait approximately 24 hours (give it a few more for leeway) and tag your work again. You should be able to now tag it with different capitalisation. The reason you have to wait 24-ish hours is because of a part of the wrangulator called the rake. The rake deletes any unfilterable tag that has zero uses (except if it's used in a tagset) approximately 24 hours after it's made. Notably, any tag that has been synned to a canonical does not get raked. If you want to check if your zero-use tag has been deleted yet, you can search for its exact text in tag search. If it still exists, it will be a search result and show (0) after it. If it's been deleted, it won't show up at all. It's important to note that just because an unfilterable tag shows up in tag search with (0) after it, that doesn't mean it will be raked in the future! These are usually tags in a tagset, which don't disappear. A tagset (example) is used by people running challenges for participants to have a pool of tags to choose from. There is no way to determine whether a tag is in a tagset, not even as a wrangler! You just have to assume it's the case if it never disappears. And remember, if anyone else has used the tag you're trying to change, it won't work!

So in conclusion: sorry about the tag that is the wrong capitalisation. You almost certainly can't fix it.

#ao3 #ao3 tags #how to ao3 #tag wrangling

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myfandomrealitea · 5 months

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I wish I had a place to post my fucked up arts without being cancelled 😭

Honestly I think the drawn arts have suffered perhaps the most out of modern censorship. Especially the communities, too, because when sites ban things to please advertisers, investors and the handful of people squawking about protecting the children, it creates this mentality of; 'if its been banned its bad, so whoever makes it or enjoys it is bad too.'

There will literally always be at least one person who comes after you for what you create. Lord knows I enough enough angry anons in my inbox on a daily basis and all I do is rant about antis and occasionally knock my braincells together with enough force to say something vaguely helpful.

My best advice for avoiding being 'cancelled' is to heavily, heavily curate your online space and the people you aim to include within it. This could be by:

Following specifically other blogs who post similar content or express interest in similar content to what you produce or your interests.

Pre-emptively blocking blogs who express disgust or hatred for the content you produce or like, blogs who express moral stances conflicting to yours, ect. This is expressly helpful on sites like Twitter where options to limit engagement are limited.

Tagging properly, and including trigger and warnings tags whom others are likely to have blocked. This prevents people from seeing something they don't want to, and also gives you coverage if they try to accuse you of 'spreading it around.'

In cases of art that may have more extreme content, try using spoiler flags or any filtration option that requires viewers to actively consent to viewing it. Relevant to above, nobody can cry wolf about 'being exposed' because they would've had to physically reveal the work to themselves.

DeviantArt unfortunately recently changed its policies to a frankly ridiculously constrictive degree, so while I previously would've recommended that as a place to host your artwork and find a safer community, I can no longer. Hopefully someone is successful in pushing for the site to reform to its previous rules soon.

ArtStation is an option. The site is not eligible to anyone under 18 and sexual, gore, fetish, and 'mature' content is allowed provided the usual stipulation that you aren't using it in order to cause, infer or threaten harm against someone. A lot of the site is geared toward marketing artwork, though, so you might be hard pressed to find more of a community aspect to it.

Rule 34.com is... Objectively one of the best places you can host your artwork if you create content that is based on sexual themes. The protective rights aren't the greatest, but anyone who uses Rule 34 has no leg to stand on regarding morality and censorship.

Reddit has a lot of subreddits for sharing art, and a bonus is you can find subreddits specifically geared toward artwork based on things like gore, violence, sexual content, ect. Filtering options and monitoring are basically non-existent, however. Also, Reddit sometimes spontaneously decides a specific post is against its TOS and yeets it.

There's also the option of building a Discord server based around sharing artwork of certain themes, which is objectively the format that allows you the most control over who views it, but it also means your art has a limited presence. (Can't be reblogged, ect.)

If you do check out any of the websites, always be thorough in reading the Terms of Service and the Community Guidelines.

#sephiroth speaks #myfandomrealitea #fandom #proship #proshipping #art #fanart #art platforms #artists #discord #deviantart #reddit

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writing-for-life · 2 months

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Right, okay, I’ve thought long and hard whether to write this:

A squick (even a strong one) is not the same as a trigger.

Emotional discomfort, even emotional discomfort that leads to low-level physical symptoms like e.g. mild nausea, is not trauma. Unfortunately, TikTok pop psych has done nothing to help people understand the difference, because the trend to perceive (even strong) emotional discomfort as equivalent to a trauma response is worrying and neither helps people with nor without PTSD. I don’t wish it on anyone to actually find out the difference if they haven’t yet (disclaimer, since this is unfortunately necessary these days because everything gets misconstrued: I am not talking about individual experiences, because only you can know about those. I’m talking about wider trends in an often young audience with not enough background info to be able to tell apart sound medical/psychological info and viral BS created by “influencers” for some kind of personal gain).

What people in the current fandom spat want to have tagged as “triggers” are overwhelmingly squicks. And we’re probably all guilty of quickly saying “that triggered me”, myself included (and I’m a licensed psychotherapist, shame on me). It has become somewhat of a shorthand for “extremely annoyed or grossed out”. But when it gets used in the context of tagging, it’s good to remember that no one owes us a tag list the length of our arm just because we don’t like certain things. Even if we strongly dislike them.

And even on the occasion someone else’s yuck or yum is an actual trigger for us, it is impossible to cover for every possible trigger, because in theory, EVERYTHING has the possibility to trigger someone somewhere.

E.g., a certain smell in a supermarket holds the rare possibility of triggering someone, but do you see disclaimers at the supermarket door that say, “May smell of 484 different things, which are in detail [list of 484 things] and might be different tomorrow. Plus, we might have a customer today who smells of that perfume that brings up your triggering childhood memories. Or maybe we won’t, but just on the odd chance we do, we thought we’d rather cover it”.

There might be one person with a very specific trigger that does literally nothing to the vast majority of people. Do we expect everyone on Tumblr to tag for “eyebrows” or “white T-Shirt” because of that? How about that person just puts “eyebrows” or “white T-Shirt” in their content filter instead?

Do we really suggest to put that type of responsibility on creators? More importantly: Who are we protecting that way? All we do is put people into bubble wrap and shift responsibility for our mental wellbeing away from ourselves to others.

We are trying to tell other people what to do for our own comfort. That’s controlling.

If we’re squicked out by something, there is a simple solution: we can stop looking or reading. We can use content (not tag) filters. In the worst case, we can block. We don’t have to put that type of responsibility for our personal sensitivities on creators (or people who reblog, for that matter).

We can tag for certain things as a courtesy, I’m all for it. I love being able to filter out stuff I’m not into, and I sometimes wish people would tag better or not tag a certain way (getting ship tags for a ship you’re not into slapped on your character-metas is annoying 🤣). But I don’t die, neither does it cause me unbearable distress, if I see cows where I don’t expect them. Scroll past or block. And if I’m worried about mature topics like nudity or violence: Tumblr has a community label for mature themes you can (and in my view should) use if in doubt. Funnily enough, many people don’t do that though—maybe because they worry about reach?

Of course we should include content warnings where they are due, no one says we shouldn’t. It’s also fair if a creator doesn’t wish to do that beyond general warnings (no specifics) though because they might give away, say, major plot points that way. In that case, general disclaimers like “contains depictions of violence”, or whatever it might be individually, are a good idea. And if that’s not specific enough for us despite knowing that “violence” in general might also contain our personal trigger, we might need to make the decision not to read it to stay safe, but we shouldn’t have a go at the writer for not tagging very specific things that might be considered spoilers.

Long story short: If we assume people are “triggered” by werewolves with vulvas or non-human characters, it might be worth thinking about whether we’re just talking about squicks that very much fall into the category of “personal responsibility”. And there are plenty solutions to that at our end—we don’t need to put that on creators…

#fandom problems #fandom entitlement #fandom stuff #squicks #vs #triggers #tagging #being grossed out or strongly disliking is uncomfortable #but it’s not the same as being triggered

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writtenontheport · 10 months

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Hi can you do a lockwood fic where you’re in the library late at night and you decide to play classical music and he asks you to dance (kiss on hand as a greeting, lucy recording and having a bet with george, etc) thanks!

Hear the Crackle of the Radio, I Know I’m Home

Anthony Lockwood x (gn) Reader

Warnings/Tags: Fluff, sleepy Lockwood, dancing but it’s more like just staying in each other’s arms for the sake of it, repetition, I’m a SUCKER for fluff

Notes: Thank you anon for this sweet little request, I absolutely adored writing it!! I didn’t know how to incorporate a classic piece at first (considering their technology would be quite behind and they don’t have access to boomboxes or speakers) but then I remembered the old radio my family used to have. Lovely thing it was, I miss the crackle of it dearly!

ALSO, I MISREAD YOUR REQUEST SO BAD ANON. IM SO SORRY 😭 -added after posting LMAO,,,,

Summary: It’s a quiet day in the library— until Lockwood comes and forces you up from your seat to dance with him.

The static of the radio fades away into the crunch of violin and piano compositions, coming through gently and filling the room. There’s an air of old books and frail paper about you as you handle the fragile pages. The paper is old under your fingers, the texture familiar in your hands; the library smells of the past and sounds of it too.

You didn’t expect anyone else to be awake considering they all just got back home after a long and tedious case, but Lockwood comes into the library with a sleepy smile and you find yourself pleasantly surprised. He’s in a loose white T-shirt and the pyjama pants you bought him not too long ago, looking just about ready to pass out as he makes his way over to you. Much like a cat, he smiles patiently as you put away your book before unceremoniously dropping himself into your lap.

“Anthony,” You laugh, moving him around into a more comfortable position. He’s like putty in your hands, he is; sleepy and warm and all too happy.

“I checked, and you weren’t in bed,” He mumbles, his face resting in the space between your head and collar. His eyes peer at you from behind his lashes, hooded with exhaustion that has him blinking slowly. “ ‘Just wanted to make sure you were alright.”

“I am very alright, now that you lot are all home.” You press a kiss onto his head, a hand combing through his hair. “I was about to head to bed, actually. Have you checked on Lucy and George?”

“Already—“ he yawns here, stretching out all his lanky limbs “—did. They’ve both headed into their rooms already.”

He leans into your touch and into you, relaxing in your arms. He snakes his arms your waist and his lips end up on your jaw. If Lucy or George were here, they might have had half the mind to call you both out on your lovesick behaviour. Since it was just you two, though, that goes unspoken. You hope Lockwood ignores the quick beating of your heart just as Lockwood hopes you can’t feel his smile on your skin growing coy. The world filters back in around you with every breath; library pages and the sound of something slow and relaxing.

“Let’s dance,” Lockwood mumbles, not pulling himself up. “This is our song.”

It is not your song; you don’t have one, (yet, you secretly hope) but you indulge him with a laugh. “Get up then. I can’t dance if you’re on me now, can I?”

It takes a solid minute for him to make good on that, at which point you think he’s fallen asleep before he blows into the skin of your neck and you swat him. It’s a giggly affair getting up, books left forgotten on the table and the radio drowned out by your joy. You take your places in the center of the room, Lockwood more awake as he gazes lovingly into your eyes. The piece rises to new heights as you both begin dancing slowly, a bit off beat with the music, but in tune with the rhythm of your hearts.

With one arm wrapped around your lower back, and the other in yours, it’s more of a sway than a dance. And yet you sway, to and fro, to and fro, as the music swells and softens through the radio crackle. His eyes trace your face with such tenderness and care; smiling subconsciously as he sways with you.

When you’re on the job, Lockwood is doing little more than burning himself into ash and soot to protect you all; ghoulishly hollow in all the ways he has already given himself up for you, George, and Lucy. You scold him for it, all of you, and he does try to make it better, but sometimes you can only be thankful of what you have still. This look of his is one of them.

This particular look is reserved for you alone, made of gentle edges whittled down by your persistence to get close; the walls around his heart so low they’re all but flattened. This particular look is full of something more than just ash and hollow soot: it’s full of warmth and giddy happiness. This particular look is one you can’t help but cherish.

“You look lovely today,” He hums, peering into your eyes as he masterfully dodges stepping on your feet. His hair is messy and crumpled from where you’d ran your hand through it, making him all the more endearing.

“And you look like you’re about to pass out,” you tease, squeezing his hand.

“How do I look like besides that, though?”

“Gorgeous and radiant,” You playfully coo, laughing when his face splits into a wide grin.

Nothing else is said after as you both fall into the rhythm of being near each other. To and fro, to and fro, you sway; to and fro. The smell of old books and the sound of a crackling radio all fade into the background as you and Lockwood slowly but surely lean in to rest your foreheads gently against one another’s. He pushes his nose into yours, humming along to the song, and like instinct your lips fall into each other’s. The world sways as you do, to and fro, to and fro.

Kissing him tastes like warmth and joy bottled up; feels like sinking into your bed and hiding yourself away from the world. Kissing him feels like everything is going to be all right.

A camera click startles you both and you quickly pull away (still in each other’s arms) to find Lucy at the door. She’s grinning ear to ear with a twinkle in her eyes as she leans back out of the doorway and yells,

“George! I won!” and leaves.

You and Lockwood stay there standing, before slowly falling into a fit of giggles and deeper into each other’s arms. From beyond the door, Lucy and George race down the steps in a thunderous manner, and suddenly the whole of 35 Portland Row is awake well past midnight. You wouldn’t have had it any other way.

Your song plays again the next day in the library, and the smile that takes you over has Lockwood kissing you again just for how beautiful you are to him. The world settles in your kisses, and when you dance you do little more than hold onto each other and sway; to and fro, to and fro.

A/N: This actually gave me some nostalgia, because I used to love the radio (the old classic ones they don’t make anymore) and I loved when we used it. I’m also SUCH fan of swaying with someone you love gently, and just— UGH.

#portie writes fanfic #anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood x you #lockwood and co x reader #lockwood x reader #lockwood x you

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the-random-phan · 11 months

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I just finished A Glitch in Time (legit seconds ago)

And AAAAAAAAA

SPOILERS AHEAD!!!!!!

(This post is tagged, but just in case you haven't filtered it yet)

I absolutely LOVE that it ended with a hanging thread in the form of Valerie. I need to re-read to see what her attitude towards Danny specifically was. But she is absolutely gonna be gunning for Dan if she finds out about him. And does this mean there's two Valerie's now? Or just one?

I wonder where Dani is in this new world, how she'd react if she ran across the new Dan

All Vlad has ever wanted was a family, and now he has Dan (Vlad redemption AAAA?)

Also, a surviving clone??? (Er, not anymore. Technically. Hopefully it didn't have a consciousness of its own, or that's one more person bouncing around in Dan's head to deal with)

I love how that tidbit was set up earlier, I didn't really question it at the time but it was a very very good move

ALSO!

Not quite Ghost Speak and Obsessions, but Ancient Runes and a Purpose are pretty similar :D

(I was expecting Esperanto to be one of the languages listed that the Runes were based on, but it wasn't meant to be.)

Also, VladxMaddiexJack lovers (idk what ship name to use) I think this quote is perfect for y'all :>

"All I ever wanted was love, but my quest for power drove everyone away. Maddie, Jack... even young Daniel." -Vlad, page 152

Also also also!

Ghost King fodder, (focusing on the use of the word pariah)

"But if anyone's gonna unite the Ghost Zone and the human realm, it's gotta be me. The new me. Even if that makes me a pariah again" -Danny, page 172

Oh! And I can't wait to see what people do with the 'What if' if Danny chose the door where he lost his ghost powers. I can imagine the crossover potential, if choosing that door messed up the world a bit and merged another universe with Danny's

"In door one, everything will be reverted as it was, but you will no longer have your powers." -Clockwork, page 171

#agit spoilers #danny phantom spoilers #a glitch in time spoilers #a glitch in time #danny phantom a glitch in time #dp #danny phantom #agit #dp agit #dp agit spoilers #i probably have more Thoughts but I am overloaded at the moment #long post

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andsomemaniacgotridofthewheel · 9 days

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What I don't understand about certain "discourses" is:

the whole point of writing fan-fiction is to get your own headcanon out of your head on paper / the screen in order to share it with the people who might have the same headcanon. Or who just like your headcanon. Who can see it.

And it works the same the other way around. You are looking for fan-fiction that supplements and supports your headcanon. Your interpretations. And then you read it.

In which case the writer has succeeded in sharing what's happening in their head with someone who feels the same way, and the reader has found someone who made a thing that totally works for them. Everybody is happy.

So why would you go reading fan-fictions that are clearly not a match and then complain about it?

What you do instead is: first you set your search parameters to filter for the things you like or dislike*. Then you check the tags and maybe the summary for anything you might dislike. And then you start reading.

And chances are that you, more often than not, will indeed, in your head, go "he would not fucking say that". Because in your head, he doesn't.

In which case, you hit the "back" button of your browser or close the tab and keep searching the other fics for one that might be for you.

And if it is something that squicks you so much that you don't ever want to see it again, you always have the option of preventing that by blocking - the work, the author, the artist, whatever works.

What you do NOT do is bang the writer's door down just to tell them how much you dislike their work and disagree with their take on things, and you absolutely do not assemble your herd to collectively judge them for it. In a fanfic that they wanted to share, for free, with likeminded people. Which means a fanfic that wasn't even for you.

Don't like? Don't read.

There are always going to be headcanons and fanons that are further off the mark than others. There are always fan-artists who are going to project things onto characters to deal with stuff. There are always going to be fanworks based on misremembered stuff, or misinterpreted stuff, or non-canon stuff. There are always going to be interpretations you disagree with. But all of these, too, will find their people. People who, unlike you, want it. People who might even need it.

I am not talking about meta or analysis or canon discourse here. If someone starts a fight insisting that their complete misinterpretation of a character or scene is the only correct one, they're gonna have to deal with upset people answering back.

But fanworks? Fan-fiction, fan-art, filk, that is stuff someone put a lot of work and heart and sometimes tears in for themselves and for anyone who likes it, too. It often comes from a place that is deeply personal, that makes the artist vulnerable, and that they then gift to anyone who might feel that pang of recognition. It is not just free content to consume.

The same goes for complaining and arguing about why some genres, some tropes, some fanons or pairings or fandoms are more popular than others. Which is always going to be the case.

You have no right to demand a quota from the fan-fiction writers community. You have no right to demand that someone else sacrifices their precious free time to write your headcanon or fulfills your personal needs or includes your specific minority. Fan-fiction writers are not free content creators, they don't work for you. They work for themselves. And then they gift their work to the people who might want it. Anything they do or don't do is out of their own volition and they only have to answer to themselves for it. And that is exactly how it should be.

And if you're unhappy with what you are getting, there is always the golden rule of fan-fiction:

If no one has written or wants to write the fan-fiction YOU want to read, you're gonna have to write it yourself.

(Or find someone who actually takes commissions. In that case, you would even be entitled to complain if it isn't what you paid for.)

*=thankgod for the AO3 search function!

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buddieunderratedgem · 2 months

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A quick guide to fic searching

I would like to start this by saying that I don’t mind when you guys ask me to help you out finding a fic, more often than not I or someone else will know it, and this is a community after all we’re here to help each other.

But there’s been a few times that I think it might’ve been a little faster to get to the fic if you used the filtering system already built into AO3, so here’s a quick guide on how to fic search using Buddie as an example.

If you search Evan buck Buckley/Eddie diaz on AO3 there’s over 20k fics to sort through and that can be a little overwhelming but you can click on the filter option - or the edit your search option and it’ll open this menu:

Which lets you choose what to include or exclude. In the part that says additional tags you can enter anything you might think the fic you’re looking for might be tagged with (works best for AUs or kinks, as long as the author has properly tag it).

This is the amount of fics that come up after you filter with the additional tag of “alternative universe coffee shops and cafés ”

If that search is still too many fics for you to scroll through you can add as many additional tags as you need to, here I added tattoo artists Eddie diaz too

(No shade to the anon that asked for this fic the other day, it was just the first thing I could think of when I took the screens)

There’s literally only one result.

And this can be used to search specific things you’re in the mood for, or a fic that fell through the cracks of your history.

And remember you can also do this to exclude tags:

If there’s anything you don’t wanna read about, a character you’d like to avoid here’s where you can do it.

Again I don’t mind helping you guys out, most of the time I find something to read too while I’m looking for your fics but I just figured I’d make this in case anyone is new to ao3 or just had been click around and saw these features!

This is a very simple guide on how to use the filtering and tag system but the more you get familiar with it the better your ao3 reading experience will be!

#how to ao3 #how to use the tags and filters #rae rambles on the side blog #just a quick guide let me know if it’s not clear or anything!

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megaderping · 8 months

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Saw a rather mean post last night, and genuinely, I do not understand how people can play Persona 5 (particularly Royal), and come out thinking Akechi genuinely hates Joker when Morgana outright states for the audience, "You don't really hate Joker, do you?" Akechi laments how they didn't meet a few years earlier and how they could've been "great rivals, perhaps even friends." o_O Like... is this a vanilla thing? I genuinely don't get it. The interrogation room wasn't even his idea (SIU director mentions as much). It's not even about the ship- the game spells out that their bond is more complex, and it just so happens that a lot of people like to explore it as one. Even as platonic, tho, there's a shit ton of depth. Idk, any time I see discourse (especially people making fun of Shuake fans and stuff), I just question how many people actually paid attention to the dialogue. Even the "I hate you speech" reads as him being extremely emotionally constipated and conflicted. Plus, y'know...

Very hateful. Sure. :p Idk, maybe certain playthroughs of the game remove all those moments where the game spells out that they have a special bond (Maruki even states it isn't based on hatred, but that's only if you get his third awakening). Just wish people would get off their high horses, if anything. Sometimes I see people get really condescending about liking Akechi or liking Shuake, and like... just block the tags if you don't like these things instead of posting untagged ship/character bashing and making fun of fans? At least have the decency to tag it as something that Shuake fans can filter because some of those posts are really mean-spirited. :/ You think we haven't heard it all before? I may be new to the fandom, but I have heard that this BS has been going on for years.

I don't think it really matters if there are "healthier" ship options because some of us prefer the messiness, the depth, and complexity. It's not for everyone, and I respect favoring more straightforwardly sweet and wholesome dynamics or wishing your favorite pair got more spotlight. I'm a Riku and Kairi shipper in Kingdom Hearts, for crying out loud. :P I get it, but you're not gonna win anyone over to your side by telling them that [insert ship here] is better. In my case, it makes me more averse because of how deeply their relationship in the confidant, engine room, and third sem touched me and seeing people go "yeah, but you are wrong for feeling that way, THIS is better" is just... yeah. :/ (Also, people gotta learn the difference between hitmen and serial killers. Akechi is the former, which I've ranted about before, but yeah.)

So many fandom problems could be solved if people didn't take the piss out of others for shipping something they don't personally like. x_x; By all means, feel the way you feel, it's okay to not like things.

#goro akechi #persona 5 #persona #persona 5 joker #joker p5 #akira kurusu #ren amamiya #not naming names but the amount of times i see people shit on shuake fans while ignoring blatant dialogue in the game #i was just trying to look for cool akechi posts last night #every time people make fun of shuake fans i like the other joker ships less and less tbh #the ship and the character mean so much to me #discourse

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paintedhyenadogs · 1 month

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Just because Im lowkey pissed that people don't understand the archive warnings on AO3 and get mad at the author because of their own lack of understanding:-

Here are what the archive warning tags mean and what each apply to:

No Archive Warnings Apply

This means the fic doesn't have any of the content that fit into the other warnings

Still tread with caution, especially if there are no other tags, as in 0. No relationship tags, no character tags, nothing, nada. It means the author might be really new or just was too lazy to use any tags or warnings. Know the risk or play it safe and don't read.

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

This means the fic might have none, some or all of the listed warnings. This is the warning. You might end up reading triggering material, or reading a fluffy sweet fic. It's a toss up, so if you aren't willing to take the risk, DO NOT READ.

If you've filtered out any of the other archive warnings and see this one, make sure you are ready to encounter something that might be triggering, that you've filtered or just avoid it. Even if the other tags don't indicate it, be wary and stay cautious, remember that this is still a warning.

Graphic Depictions of Violence

The content of the fic features graphic violence, as is stated. But if the creator chose not to tag what happens specifically that is violent, be ready for anything ranging from a bloody fist fight, to cannibalism to eroguro to violent torture.

Rape/Non Con

The fic will contain rape/noncon, which I've also seen include dubious consent/dubcon. It can be a major plot point in the story of the fic, or be smut. Read the additional tags to get a gauge of if it is one or the other. If there are no other tags, and you only want to read a story driven fic that may have rape/noncon, play it safe and don't read.

Underage

The fic has pedophillia and just like the rape/noncon warning, can be either a plot point or part of smut. Just like the above, if you do not want to read smut, play it safe and do not read if it has 0 additional tags. Honestly just filter it out all together, it's a good idea.

Some people also might use this tag when the fic involves sex between two underage characters (usually when the show is set in a high school), please keep this in mind if you aren't filtering the underage warning altogether. Also serves as a, "Always read additional tags!" note.

(Just in case someone gets on my ass and says "omg why would you say it also has smut under it ewww, are you a pedo?!" because I know someone will: I am simply saying that, the reality is, it's on the site. I don't wanna see that either, but it's there and I can't do a thing about it, just please be aware that you could be stumbling into a gross fic if you are not reading the tags properly.)

Major Character Death

A major character in the fic dies. This could be an OC, the reader, or a canon character.

If anyone feels I should revise and/or add these explanations, please tell me.

Additional words for newbies for ao3

AO3 is an archive site first, fanfiction hub second. It isn't for readers, it's for authors to archive their work and be able to label their work accordingly (or just not label it).

As a reader you should be respectful towards the authors and their work. You have no right to demand for a new chapter of a work you may like, you have no right to insult the author because of your own lack of knowledge or ignorance. Be grateful you're even getting any work from these people. Again, these people. These authors are real people like you and me, writing you fanfiction to read at no additional cost.

If you plan on posting on AO3, you should tag it, just so people can filter it, it's nice to be nice. I don't write on AO3 so I don't know what else to say on this part.

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