#maybe someone ended up correcting them in the comments and the author might write them doing JSL next chapter

[xeneric-shrooms]

I'm alive, just reading a fic that I didn't realize was 600k+ words long so I've been fully engrossed

[pascaloverx]

SAFE & SOUND

summary:

Joel doesn't like you very much because you challenge him. Or at least that's what you think.

author's note: I have to admit that it never crossed my mind to have the courage to write a Joel Miller fanfic, but I wanted to dare to do it, out of pure desire. if it's not good, let's all pretend nothing happened. If this chapter doesn’t go well, I probably won’t continue writing this fanfic — so if you enjoy it, please like and leave a comment

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ONE

You must've lost your damn mind—it's the only explanation for what you're about to do. Logic must’ve taken a dive off the nearest roof because here you are, preparing to climb onto the shoulders of a much older man while the two of you try to finish patching up your house. Joel's been helping with repairs for almost two days now, and it’s finally looking like the end is in sight. But, of course, there’s one stubborn, loose board left to fix. And Joel can’t quite reach it.

“Remind me again why we’re doing… this,” you mutter as you hook your legs around his shoulders. He lets out a grunt—pain or effort, you can’t quite tell.

“Someone decided to hog the only ladder,” he grumbles, clearly straining a bit. You steady yourself, one hand braced against the wall, the other gripping the board as you begin to lift it into place, trying not to think too hard about the fact that you’re using Joel Miller like a human scaffold.

"Still doesn’t feel like a good enough reason to justify this—I mean, I could accidentally kill you doing this," you mutter, nervous, as you subtly try to steer Joel toward the spot where the loose board needs replacing.

"I’ve survived worse than having your legs wrapped around me, Y/N. Trust me, I’ll live," Joel replies, his voice steady as he moves where you need him to.

"Careful sounding that confident, Miller. I might be a deadlier threat than you think," you warn, tightening your thighs around his shoulders for balance. You manage to grab the loose board and yank it free, tossing it to the ground. It lands dangerously close to Joel's foot.

"Just so we’re clear—if I get hurt, you’re on your own," he says, glancing up at you with a wry look.

You look down to meet his gaze, and the moment your eyes lock with those warm brown eyes of his, you’re hit with a memory—one you’ve been doing your best to ignore. The last time you were this close to Joel Miller. And the last time it nearly unraveled everything.

Joel then reaches up to hand you the new piece of wood, along with a hammer and a couple of nails. You take them carefully, steadying yourself on his shoulders as best you can.

"Hold it flush against the beam—no, not like that. Higher. There. Good," Joel instructs from below, his tone hovering on the edge of impatience but still guiding you through it.

You manage to line it up just right and start hammering, the sound echoing through the quiet house. It's not perfect, but it’s sturdy—and more importantly, it holds. You glance down at him, expecting another correction, but instead he just mutters, “Not bad.” Which, coming from Joel, might as well be high praise.

“He actually looks better when he’s balancing on the edge of giving someone a compliment,” you murmur to yourself, more a thought slipping out than anything meant to be heard. But when you glance down, Joel is staring right up at you.

“You’ve got a… unique way of showing interest in someone,” he says, voice low, followed by a grunt as he shifts slightly beneath you. You instantly regret speaking at all.

“I’m coming down,” you say quickly, flustered. “Maybe focus more on helping me not crush you to death and less on what I say.” Joel raises his hands up, palms open, steady and waiting. “Grab on. One leg at a time,” he says, tone sharp with focus, all business.

Your hands tremble as you reach for him. You tell yourself it's just the blood rushing back after holding that awkward position for too long—but you know better. It’s Joel. And his quiet strength. And the way he’s always just a little too close without ever fully crossing a line. He notices. Of course he does.

“I’ve seen your hands steadier while you were shooting at infected,” he murmurs, a small edge of teasing hidden in the warmth of his voice. “No need to be scared. If anything goes wrong… I’ve got you.”

He tightens his grip on your hands, grounding you. Then he looks up—really looks at you—and your eyes lock for a breathless moment. No smirk. No sarcasm. Just that unwavering gaze, full of something you can’t quite name. And for a second, that feels like far more danger than falling ever could.

You swing one leg off Joel’s shoulder, managing just fine—until your eyes meet his. That single glance is enough to unravel your focus, and as you move your other leg, your balance shifts dangerously.

Joel reacts instantly. His hands snap to your waist, steady and sure, catching you before you fall. You squeeze your eyes shut, bracing for impact, but it never comes.

“Told you I’d catch you,” he says, voice low and calm. “You didn’t have to be so scared.”

Your eyes flutter open. His arms are firm around your waist, his breath warm against your face—and your heart feels like it’s about to punch through your ribs.

“The last time we were this close… you made a mistake,” you murmur, eyes locked on his face. You watch the slight grin of satisfaction from having caught you fade into something tighter, more guarded.

“I thought we agreed not to bring that up again,” Joel mutters, his tone shifting—defensive, gruff. You let out a dry laugh, and it only seems to agitate him more.

“Let’s be honest here—we don’t talk about anything. We’re avoiding it like it’s the goddamn infection,” you snap, stepping back from him, frustration bleeding into your voice.

"I figured that was just your way of moving on," Joel says plainly, as if he hadn’t meant to dredge any of it back up, that one mistake still hanging between you. “You kissed me, I kissed you. We were drunk, for God’s sake. And you went and ruined it by calling it a mistake—something done out of pity. What kind of woman wants to be kissed, only to hear afterward that the man did it because he felt sorry for her, because he—" You stop yourself, the memory too raw to put into words.

“—because I killed your mother,” Joel finishes, his voice quiet, his eyes heavy with regret.

“The woman you killed wasn’t my mother anymore,” you say firmly. “What you did saved my life. And for that, yes, I’m grateful—even if I do miss her. But this isn’t about who killed who, Joel. It’s about the fact that you kissed me and then called it a mistake. A kiss out of pity.”

"I might've called the kiss a mistake, but I never said it was out of pity," Joel says as he steps closer. There's a subtle shift in his voice—quieter, steadier—but something in it rings true, something honest.

"You didn’t have to say it," you reply, your voice trembling with restrained emotion. "It was in your eyes. The same look everyone in Jackson gives me—like I’m something fragile, something broken. Like they think they’re sparing me when all they do is make me feel useless. And you… you made me feel—"

You cut yourself off, your breath hitching as the words burn in your throat. You step toward him, trying to make him understand. Understand the storm that's been tearing you apart ever since that patrol—the frustration of knowing your mother had turned and you couldn’t pull the trigger. The helplessness of freezing while the infected woman who once raised you lunged toward you. If Joel hadn’t followed after you that day, hadn’t pulled that trigger when you couldn’t—you’d be dead. And the kiss, the one moment of warmth that came after, being reduced to a mistake... it only made the ache worse.

“You know what? It doesn’t matter how you made me feel,” you say, deciding not to show just how much all of this still gets to you. Maybe you should take a page out of Joel’s book—pretend you’re fine, even when it feels like the weight of the world is crushing your shoulders.

“I want to know,” he says softly, and the gentleness in his voice catches you off guard. “I want to know how I make you feel…” It’s strange, this sudden permission to be vulnerable.

“You make me feel angry, Miller,” you answer, locking eyes with him. You’re standing so close now, you can see the way his mouth twitches slightly, like he’s processing your words one by one.

“Is that why you’ve been encouraging Ellie to break the rules?” Joel asks, his tone shifting.

You stare at him, offended. “By that, you mean your rules?” you snap. “Sorry if I don’t think it’s wise to treat a girl learning to navigate adulthood in a post-apocalyptic world like she can’t make her own damn choices.” You’re already pulling away from him, your frustration growing.

“These rules are what’s keeping her alive, Y/N!” he says, raising his voice, his expression growing hard with irritation.

“Oh, I’ve got an idea—why don’t you put her in a glass cage and never let her out again? That way, you won’t have to worry at all,” you shoot back, losing your patience entirely. How can he even suggest that you’d push Ellie into danger just because you’ve got unresolved issues with him?

Before he can say another word, he presses a finger to his lips, signaling for you to be quiet. In the silence that follows, you both hear the faint murmurs of two voices approaching.

You open the door—almost instantly, Dina and Ellie appear in front of you. To be fair, they’re carrying the ladder that would’ve been very useful just a few minutes ago.

“We were gonna knock,” Dina says as she and Ellie try to collect themselves, clearly having walked in on more than just a quiet moment. They exchange a quick glance while you shoot them a look of mild judgment.

“Took both of you to bring one ladder?” you ask, just as you hear Joel gathering his things behind you.

“Actually, Dina came to ask if Joel’s ready for patrol,” Ellie says, not missing a beat. “I came to bring the ladder.”

The look she gives you says it all—there’s no doubt they overheard a good portion of your argument with Joel. Joel steps up beside you, about to speak, but you cut him off before he can get a word out.

“I’ll go on patrol in Joel’s place,” you say firmly. The room falls quiet again, everyone caught off guard. You haven’t been out on patrol since the incident with your mother.

“Negative,” Joel starts, but you glance at him with a calm sort of defiance.

“Don’t even try to argue. You’re not exactly in top form right now—believe me, I was just on top of you a moment ago,” you say, holding his gaze.

Joel lets out a slow breath, his jaw tightening. “You think that means I can’t do my job? I’ve gone on patrols with cracked ribs before.”

“Yeah, and that was a stupid decision,” you fire back without hesitation. “This is just a patrol, Joel. I can handle it.”

There’s a beat of silence as the tension between you builds. He seems ready to push back, but then something shifts in his expression. His shoulders drop slightly, and his eyes linger on yours—not with anger, but something quieter, heavier. Maybe it’s reluctance. Or maybe it’s trust, buried deep beneath the gruff exterior.

Before he can speak again, Ellie’s voice cuts in from behind you. “Wow,” she says under her breath, nudging Dina.

“Told you. That’s the tension I was talking about,” Dina murmurs, not even trying to hide the smirk pulling at her lips.

“If we’re done here, I’m ready for patrol,” you say, grabbing your weapon and fixing your hair, your tone final. Joel, Dina, and Ellie exchange uneasy glances by the doorway of your house.

“Then I guess I better get ready to go with you guys,” Ellie says, and you catch how Joel stiffens beside her, his entire body bristling with concern.

“Ellie…” he murmurs, low and warning, like he’s already imagining everything that could go wrong. He probably doesn’t trust you—not fully. Not with her.

“I don’t think Jesse’s gonna be thrilled with us switching up the patrol groups,” Dina offers, trying to defuse the growing tension as the four of you begin to move away from the house. “But… we can try.”

“I’ll talk to Jesse. You take Ellie, return the ladder, and meet us at the gate,” you reply, your tone decisive as you glance at the girls. Ellie and Dina exchange a look—and then bolt off, lugging the ladder between them.

“You’re bossy,” Joel mutters, falling into step beside you. You laugh, unable to ignore the irony of that coming from him. Hypocrisy looks good on him, though. You stop and turn to face him.

“I want you to know I’ll take care of Ellie,” you say seriously, stopping in front of Joel and holding his gaze. “Whatever you might think of me, I’m a woman with principles. My issues with you are ours alone.”

Joel takes a step closer, his expression softening as if something in him is finally giving way. His hand almost reaches for your face, but he stops short. You can see it—he’s on the edge of saying something he’s been holding back.

“I… I feel like I owe you an apology,” he begins, voice rough and low, the kind of tone he only uses when he's struggling to admit something. “For—” But Jesse’s voice cuts through the moment, calling your names from down the road, rallying the group for patrol.

“There’s no need,” you interrupt, stepping in closer to Joel and reaching up to adjust the collar of his shirt with calm precision. “Let me help with the patrols… and I promise you won’t have to speak to me again.”

You finish straightening his collar, your hand lingering just a second longer than it should, then step back and walk toward Jesse without another word. Joel follows silently, whatever he meant to say now buried under the weight of everything unspoken.

[softspiderling]

and I wish you wouldn't wait for me, but you always do | r.c

──𖤐 summary:

“He always seems so rough, I guess I’m a bit surprised to see that he’s such a caring boyfriend.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you correct her, reaching for her cigarette in her hand without asking, even though you are bumming it off of her. “We’re just friends.”

“Really?”

Avoiding Sofia’s inquisitive gaze, you look out to the pool, blowing out a puff of smoke.

“Really. Just friends.”

OR, everyone thinks Rafe refuses to commit to a relationship, even though you're the one with cold feet.

──𖤐 pairing: rafe cameron x reader

──𖤐 word count: 1,5k

──𖤐 warnings: MDNI, mention of sex, but nothing too graphic

──𖤐 author's note: i just wanted to write a short drabble but it just kept going and i'm not sorry. hope you like it, make sure to leave a comment/reblog if you do, i always appreciate it and ily

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

You hate hate hate the word situationship.

It's dumb, and it glorifies uncertain terms in relationships and it never ends well.

Unfortunately, you can’t really find another term for the thing you have with Rafe. It’s more than a friends with benefits thing, but definitely not a relationship. Everyone always thinks it’s because of Rafe; that he doesn’t want to commit to a relationship, commit to one girl, and you always laugh it off when someone asks about it, never really denying it, letting them believe that it’s Rafe’s fault for the vague label of your… Thing. It’s easier to let them think what they want instead of admitting that you’re the reason.

You don’t know why you’re scared. Clearly you have some underlying trauma or maybe it was your first boyfriend who treated you shitty, but you just don’t want to call Rafe your boyfriend. Though honestly, to everyone else, it kind of seems like he is.

At every party, the two of you are attached at each other’s hip. Hands linked, pushing through the crowd, while Rafe looks over his shoulder every minute to make sure you’re still safely behind him. On the couch, Rafe is nursing a drink, listening to Topper yap about his new girlfriend, his arm slung around your shoulder while you talk to your friend. You get to a party together, you leave together.

“You know, I think it’s really cute that Rafe seems so protective over you,” Sofia says.

You glance over at her, having snuck outside for a smoke - Rafe doesn’t like the smell of cigarettes, which is ironic, really - and having bumped into the bartender, you two shared a cigarette.

“He always seems so rough, I guess I’m a bit surprised to see that he’s such a caring boyfriend.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you correct her, reaching for her cigarette in her hand without asking, even though you are bumming it off of her. “We’re just friends.”

“Really?”

Avoiding Sofia’s inquisitive gaze, you look out to the pool, blowing out a puff of smoke.

“Really. Just friends.”

“Huh.”

You pass the cigarette back to her, hoping it would prevent her from talking any more, and it works. She doesn’t bring it up again.

A couple of hours later, you’re sitting in Rafe’s truck as he drives home. Home, as in his house. His hand is on your thigh, and you’re nearly dozed off, when he speaks up.

“Sofia asked me if I wanted to grab a drink with her.”

That got your attention.

You look over at him, blinking in confusion.

“Sofia Flores?”

“One and only.”

Your first thought is, bitch! Your second thought is, why am I getting mad? You swallow the lump that is forming in your throat and you shrug with your shoulders, leaning back in your seat.

“Okay… Where are you going to take her?”

Rafe doesn’t answer, and for a second you think that he might not have heard you before he clears his throat. “I’ll probably take her to the country club.”

“Uh-huh.”

You glance at him for a split second, before turning away to stare out of the window, frowning deeply. There’s something you want to say, it’s on the tip of your tongue, but before you can gather the courage to say it, Rafe pulls his hand away, the moment dissipating, leaving you simmering in anger, fighting with your emotions.

Despite the tension between the two of you, you still spend the night at his place. You still moan out his name as he fucks you from behind, tugging on your hair the way you like it. He still flips you around when you’re close, his eyes searching yours when you finally come, and you still close your eyes. After he’s finished, going to the bathroom to find a towel to clean you off, Rafe wraps himself around your backside, leaving warm kisses on your neck.

“About tomorrow-” he starts, but you break him off.

“Take her to The Summit,” you say. “She works at the country club, it’s weird if you take her there.”

“… Okay.”

You don’t say anything else, pretending that you’ve fallen asleep but you lay there, awake for hours with Rafe next to you. You hate the idea of Rafe going out with Sofia. She’s pretty. And nice. You could see him falling in love with her and it honestly bothers you more than you’d like to admit. There’s moments you’re so close to turning to Rafe, to tell him something, but you always chicken out. Somewhere during your 20th try, you finally fall asleep.

When you wake up the next morning, you can tell that it’s past noon already, the sun already high on the horizon. The other side of the bed is empty, barely even warm anymore, which means Rafe must have been awake for a while now. Picking up a shirt of his that hangs over a chair, you traipse around to find your panties, tugging them on when Rafe walks into the bedroom, already dressed and ready to go.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” you say, distracted, running your hand through your hair. “Do you want to get breakfast?”

“Actually I just wanted to tell that I was about to leave to go pick up Sofia.”

“Already?” you ask, confused, staring at him.

“Yeah, I thought it’d be nice to take her out on the boat.”

“Oh.”

Rafe looks at you. For a very long time. Daring you to say something, but you only look back at him, the lump in your throat returning. Neither of you says anything, so Rafe only nods, grabbing his keys from the dresser.

“You can hang out here if you want, eat something. Don’t know when I’ll be back though,” he said nonchalantly and you ball your hands into fists, not answering because you’re not quite sure if you can keep your voice even. Rafe walks towards the door, when you finally break out of your stupor.

“Rafe.”

He stops in his tracks, halfway out of the room, but he doesn’t look at you. Which honestly, makes all of this a little easier.

“Don’t go on that date.”

To your embarrassment, your voice cracks a little, but you clear your throat, playing it off. Rafe finally turns his head, his eyes finding yours and you manage to hold his gaze.

“Why?”

You roll your eyes with a scoff, having expected that he wouldn’t make it easy on you. Rafe is a proud man, and you… Hurt his pride. Unintentionally, but you did.

“You know why.”

“Say it,” Rafe demands, his forehead creasing. “You can’t keep doing this to me.”

Something broke inside of you, hearing him say it like that, and you take a deep breath as you approach him slowly, your hands shaking as you reach out to wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him close.

“I’m sorry…” You say. “I hate this… I’m really bad at this feelings shit, but… Don’t go.”

You can tell that Rafe is not entirely convinced, and you know what he wants you to say. Something that you’ve been keeping so closely to your chest, that you never dared to say it out loud, or even think about it, but you know that if you don’t say it now, you might never get to change to say it ever again.

“I love you.”

Rafe’s hands find your waist and the frown on his forehead disappears. Finally. “Took you long enough,” he grunts, still a little upset and the lump in throat starts to get smaller.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” you mumble, hiding your face in his chest. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I was just scared.”

Rafe doesn’t say anything, a hand coming up to the nape of your neck, tilting your face up so that you’d look at him.

“I get it.”

He leans down to kiss you, and you melt into him, kissing him back, following his directions as he moves you backwards to the bed. You fall backwards on the bed, and Rafe cages you in, but before he can go any further, you stop him, pushing at his chest.

“What?” he says, still leaning in to find your mouth.

“What about Sofia?”

“Fuck Sofia,” Rafe mutters, sucking a hickey on your neck but you swat at him.

“Rafe, no. That’s mean, the least you can do is cancel.”

Rafe groans, drawing back to pull his phone out of his pocket to text Sofia. He shows you the text, raising his brows.

“You happy now?”

“Very.”

He tosses his phone on the bed behind you, and gets back to business, nosing along your clavicle. His phone vibrates, but neither of you pay it any attention, too focused on each other.

Rafe: Sorry, I gotta cancel. Hope you don’t mind.

Sofia: It’s okay, don’t worry about it.

Sofia: Hope you two figured it out.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

author's note: if you thought "this bitch knows nothing about situationships and smoking" while reading this, you're right! hope it's still accurate.

[helenvader]

Get to know your fic writer!

I have emerged from my writing hiatus, but I'm horribly stuck, so this game might be refreshing. :) I am not the author, I stumbled across it and told myself why not.

Do you prefer writing one-shots or multi-chaptered fics?

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Cltr+f "blinks" on your WIP & copy paste the first sentence/paragraph that comes up

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how do you write emotional scenes? Do you ever feel what the characters feel? Do you draw from personal experiences?

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[critical-birb]

A weirdly specific issue I've been having lately on Ao3 is that one person in my comments frequently replies to other commenters.

Now, this wouldn't normally be an issue, several people comment in threads discussing things together and I love that! But because this person does it so frequently and to so many people, I've noticed a bunch of people seem to mistake them for me, thinking that I'm responding to their comments as the author, and they start asking them questions or praising them, and they never really correct it but rather go along with it.

Which doesn't bother me particularly, but I've noticed in the past this particular person can often be a little...brash, sometimes bordering on rude or abrasive towards people in their comments. I don't think it's malicious at all, they are neurodivergent and I think maybe they just don't always realise they can come across that way - and they've always apologised and been respectful if I mention that something they've said is inappropriate in the past (they can be very vocal about their hatred of ships/romance especially - but they also make joke comments towards people that can read as a little threatening at times).

But I think this mix of issues is causing me anxiety now because now I'm always on alert for them responding to someone in a rude way and other commenters thinking its me being rude to them.

It's such a weird situation because they're not really doing anything wrong?? They're allowed to interact with commenters. Their name isn't similar to mine or anything, so it's really an issue on the other commenters mistaking them without checking their name. So I don't feel like I should tell them to stop interacting with others - they're not hurting anyone by responding to comments. At the same time though it's started making me feel uncomfortable like I never know what they might say or do that could end up putting me under fire.

Has anyone delt with this before?? Does anyone have any advice???

Honnestly I've never had so many people following my writing before so wrangling a comment community is an entirely new experience. I'm out of my depth.

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

20 Q's for 20 Authors

i wasn't actually tagged by anyone, but i saw it floating around and i was bored

1. How many works do you have?

on ao3 it's 95, but there are a few more on tumblr that i never posted anywhere else

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

360706

3. What fandoms do you write for?

whew, a ton.

4. What are your top 5 fics by notes?

on tumblr:

tomato faced

teamwork

a little fashion show

just for tonight

the palace guards

on ao3:

sunflower

plum

perfect little toy

teamwork

various spencer reid blurbs

5. Do you respond to comments?

i mostly just respond to the comments made in reblogs (mainly because that is the best way to support a writer here on tumblr)

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

maybe the murder at evergreen university? that might be as sad of an ending as i've ever gone.

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

hmm... i mean, most of them tbh. i'm a fan of wrapping things up in a nice hug, especially if I've brought the drama.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

luckily, not really, it's extremely rare and the few times it has happened i don't recall it really having anything to do with the story itself. just someone having a tough time took it as an excuse to get it out on someone and something not relevant to what they're going through.

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

yes, i very much do. many many kinds, i think it might be easier to make a list of the few genres of it i don't roll around in then the many i do.

10. Do you write crossovers?

yes. not often, but i have. the murder at evergreen university and its prequel sour summer for one was a major one that took me a long time to write. if i've written others then i don't remember, but i'd love to do more.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not to my knowledge and it is legit one of my worst nightmares.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

nope.

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

no.

14. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

never really been a big shipper, so i don't have a go to answer for this, sorry

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

oh boy, there are multiple....

there is this one i've had going for ages, but i've never found the right fictional hottie to center it around. it's a historical one where it's basically farmer's daughter x farmhand

i also have a firefighter!bucky x paramedic!reader series that is essentially all fleshed out, but i've never gotten to

some smutty one shots and blurbs for each of the dudes in the murder at evergreen university. i even reference them in the story, but i never got to finishing them...

and even more, i mean, the list just goes on, but those were just the tops off my head.

16. What are your writing strengths?

dialogue and knowing when to shut up

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

i'm dyslexic lol, that brings enough relevant "weaknesses"

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

i like it if it makes sense for the story and if the foreign language is grammatically correct and stuff and not just whatever google translate has spat out.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

criminal minds

20. Favorite fics you’ve written?

the eflorr trilogy

lilac

the murder at evergreen university

buttercup

no pressure tags: @chvoswxtch @inklore @fettuccin-e @ghostlyfleur @oncasette @mypoisonedvine @appocalipse @vhagarlovebot @slvttyfied @venuslore @fushic0re

[konigsberg]

I've had a few people offer to beta/edit MO, or ask questions about it, so I guess this is my awkward beta/editor search post? Or more, a clarification post for anyone who might be interested. Just an overview of what it might mean or look like to beta/edit for MO specifically.

I think in fandom spaces "beta reader" and "editor" sort of end up blurring in a lot of cases. In more official publishing, the editor comes in first to do their thing, correcting grammar, spelling, etc. Once a work is pretty much done, as in finished and edited, you get in beta readers. They're meant to sort of give feedback as a potential audience member, basically, to let the author know how it reads as a finished product. I think the roles can sometimes have overlap even in official publishing, at least in the sense both are providing feedback, spotting errors that have been missed, maybe identifying things that read strangely as far as structure, plot, and the rest go.

In fandom, things are obviously structured a lot differently and they're a lot more flexible, given everything is unofficial and casual. I think it can really just depend on the writer and the beta as for what they want/need to do.

And as for MO, I have the story's plot of course, but I'm obviously writing as I go, so that inherently makes for a different sort of experience for anyone coming in to edit or provide general feedback.

The way I've done it in the past is to give someone access to the WIP document(s) through Google Docs so they could leave comments on anything that stood out to them, talked about the general plan for the fic in DMs somewhere, that sort of thing. I wouldn't ask anyone to directly change what is in the document just in case, it would just be like highlighting maybe a misspelled word or a sentence that you think I should break up, and leaving a comment about that there.

I'm a few chapters ahead of what's posted on ao3. I usually wait to really edit maybe two weeks before the chapter is going to be posted, so I have fresh eyes to look at it with and just leave the chapter after that to be edited/potentially reworked in that same every two week timeline. My biggest concerns are usually that I've forgotten some detail in the midst of 600k words, I keep repeating the same damn word every other paragraph that I don't mean to, or maybe weird grammar problems. In this way, I think my concerns are maybe more "beta reader" problems, ie. did I forget a plot point? But I definitely suck at grammar, don't get me wrong.

Given it's just a fic, there's not a lot of pressure to catch every single little thing, but it is very long and dense, obviously, so asking anyone to read over it is a lot even if there's not any pressure to do things perfectly. And I feel bad because I can't really provide much compensation for that work. In the past, friends were happy just to do it basically in exchange for the ability to read chapters ahead of everyone else, but it feels a little weird to have strangers do work with that sort of compensation when I do make a little money on p8reon. That might be something to work out on an individual basis, though, I guess.

There's also the fact that most people who might be willing to edit and/or beta are obviously people interested in reading the work, and I would feel bad if the task might make the actual reading much less fun for them. Like some might find it interesting to see the plot outline or something, but then for others that would just spoil the fun. Or if it came to feel like "work" that might take the joy out of it. I think it's possible to beta/edit like a chapter ahead of what's posted without needing to know what's going to happen at the very end, for sure, but I guess what I'm really getting at is I woulnd't want to make anyone feel like they have to be spoiled on what's happening next, bound to the task of working on something that I can't give a good timeline on re: how many chapters are left or how long I'll take writing it, or anything like that.

Also, of course, there are potentially upsetting topics covered in the story. I think anyone who has gotten through the whole of the fic so far is probably okay to get through the rest, but there are going to be more parts of the story involving all of the same topics, depictions, etc. already seen in the rest of the fic and potentially more upsetting things. I'm happy to provide any sort of warnings or clarification on chapters in general, even outside of the context of someone beta/editing the work, so I don't think this should be a big issue, but it's just something to keep in mind.

So I guess, if that doesn't scare you off, and as long as it's understood there's seriously no pressure on my part that you commit to this for a long time or do an extreme amount of work or anything (beyond the demands of... sometimes reading 15k word chapters lol... just reading a chapter over once and leaving any comments on spelling and grammar errors, maybe things that don't seem like they make sense narratively, or make it seem like I've forgotten something haha, that's more than enough)... if you would like to beta/edit MO, let me know?

Feel free to ask questions, too, because god knows I've forgotten at least a few things. I might end up adding to this because I'll suddenly remember something in an hour, honestly.

If you want to just reply to this post, that's fine. My inbox should be open here, as well as the whole tumblr messaging system. I often miss when people DM me on twitter because I just never get notifs for it, and honestly I think my notifs in general sometimes don't work for replies there, but I'll try to keep an eye on that, too. I'm probably going to be a little busy this week, but I will strive to get back to everyone reasonably quickly.

I'm not really sure if there will be a lot of responses to this, but... just in case: If you do reach out and I end up going with someone else, it's definitely not personal!

I appreciate everyone who has mentioned being willing to help out. I've just been a little overwhelmed because I obviously don't know what the hell I'm doing lol and I thought this might be the easiest way to quickly provide some more info to anyone interested.

Thanks for reading!

[sofoulandfairaday]

For choose violence: 6, 23 & 24

[i've gotten so many of these -- thank you so much guys, this actually means the world to me that someone cares about my thoughts!]

from: choose violence ask game

6. which ship fans are the most annoying?

It really depends. Nowadays, probably wolfstar. Some of them are pretty fucking annoying. But it's far from what it used to be. I was here during the gold old ship war days, and I remember dramione and harmione (?) stans being the most annoying people on the face of the earth. 2012 dramione fandom anyone? the ron bashing?? 2016 jily stans with the anti-snape posts??? *shudders*

Not to say the Marauders fandom isn't toxic now but my policy is to: block block block whenever I see people who say atrocious things with 100% conviction.

Also, I just can't stand, as a general rule, people supporting wildly fanon ships over canon ones, and trying to unironically argue why they work better... There is literally nothing wrong with liking a crack!ship, I could argue that's the point of fanfiction, but don't insult my intelligence. Sometimes I see takes where the only possible solution would be for the author to read the source material again.

23. ship you've unwillingly come around to

Unwillingly is a strong word... I have read some good Tomarry fics in the last year (but. like. literally three (3). don't get excited) which is something that I would have rather gauged my own eyes out than do in the past. But then again only under very specific conditions for themes/setting/length/etc. It's not something I would ever look for, it's something I read if I know the author from other works and think “let's give it a try”... so, probably, I'm actually more in love with those authors' writing ability than the actual ship. You can tell if you actually like a ship in the following way: mediocre stories still make you swoon. You can tell if you like an author in the following way: I would rather get slapped in the face than read this ship but you make it interesting/enjoyable.

Jily is another, not because I disliked it in the way I dislike Tomarry but just 'cause it bores me a little. After exhausting any and all Snape character studies where he mopes about Lily (happy-ending Snily is not something I've ever liked) I thought meh, why not.

Oh! And you might be absolutely shocked to hear this but Belladolphus was one of these too. I was (and always will be) a Bellamort shipper, for my first few years in the fandom I was indifferent to Rodolphus at best. The man doesn't have a (1) single line in the books and we don't even really know what he looks like, but he's my angel and my baby and my darling and I accept no Rodolphus Lestrange slander in this house. Now, they're one of my favourites.

24. topic that brings up the most rancid discourse

In canon or out of canon? Because I feel that's different.

In canon probably Snape. The world isn't split into sexual assault apologists and Death Eater apologists, we all have some functioning brain cells and critical thinking skills, it's important we choose to stay in the fucking middle.

Out of canon... come on, you don't need me to tell you what it is. Personally, I think that pointing out the flaws in a book series is important and useful to the general public (and so many criticisms of the series are incredibly valid), but clutching your pearls because the kids decorate for Christmas in Grimmauld Place and *gasp* “I cannot believe JKR wrote her characters putting christmas decorations on the disembodied heads of slaves and thought "yes. this is good. very cute and charming."” (yes, this is a real comment someone made on the internet, i didn't write this. yes, it has hundreds of likes.)

Guys. It's not that deep. It's played as grotesque in the same way the Addams Family is. The Blacks are spooky ha-ha that's the joke. It's played for dark giggles, literally not that fucking deep. Although maybe I'm wrong and insensitive for this, but come on. Feel free to correct me.

Also, something that most people don't get about the Blacks: they weren't unkind to their house elves, or at least not in the way we think. Again, the Blacks are a bit like the Addams family in this scenario, they have a macabre way of doing stuff: their elves were all very devoted and thought it was an honour to be beheaded (which happened when they were too old or weak to carry the tea tray) and Kreacher even hopes that that will be his destiny when his time comes, like his mother before him. Dumbledore also says that "Mistress Cissy and Mistress Bella" were probably kind to Kreacher in their own way - Sirius was the one who was cruel to him, actually. They all saw elves as their natural slaves (which is bad), but they were part of the family just as much as servants were for an aristocratic family of the 1700s/1800s.

[amarionetista]

Is there a correct way to write a story?

The answer? If you were expecting me to list a bunch of "oh, don't do that. It's ugly, and I don't like to read it," I'm sorry to disappoint you, but the answer is that there's nothing entirely right or wrong.

Sure, I might have an issue with those who romanticize abusive relationships and situations, but if your story delves into that without romanticizing anything, I have much respect for you.

The real reason I decided to write this is because yesterday @lanternadosafogados came to me to say that there are some posts here trying to dictate how we should write our stories. Of course, don't confuse them with posts where people genuinely give helpful writing tips. I've used some in my stories, and they were immensely helpful.

Here, I'm talking about those posts – the ones that you, a dedicated writer who just wants this space to be fun, rolls your eyes at and sighs heavily.

I'm referring to posts like "How to write characters in imagines so that I feel represented." And when you read it, it's someone complaining because, imagine this, a character in an Imagine doesn't act as they would.

Well, my readers, I must say Lyra Belacqua doesn't act as I would in many situations, yet I identify with her and consider her my favorite book protagonist.

What am I trying to say? 1. Writers don't have a crystal ball to watch you and write stories with someone 100% like you. 2. If you want a character that's a spitting image of you, open a Google Docs or Word and write it yourself. I'm not getting paid to write, let alone to put up with demanding people.

And now something I've seen with my own eyes. Once, on another fanfic site, a girl posted a text complaining that authors didn't finish their Denki Kaminari stories, yes, the Pikachu from BNHA. At no point did she mention that the author might be going through writer's block or a difficult time in life or simply be busy and uninterested. No, she gathered a small group of people to complain about discontinued stories and how the author couldn't do that to them.

That's when I couldn't resist. I've received messages like "Hey, did you delete that story? I liked it so much" or "Are you going to continue that story? It's my favorite of yours." So, I decided to go there and comment something like: "I'm sorry you can't read your favorite stories about this character, but if I can give you a friend's advice, I recommend you try writing a story the way you want. Maybe then, you'll see how difficult it is to write and won't demand so much from the author."

And you know the best part? While the comments supported her point of view, she responded with great enthusiasm. But after mine, she simply deleted the story. I really wanted to put a bunch of laughs here, but that would break the text. But know that I'm laughing a lot as I write this part.

People like that only know how to demand from writers. If they knew the amount of time we dedicate to a story or how frustrating it is to go through writer's block, they wouldn't do that.

Oh, and if you think the absurdity has ended, my dear ones, there's more since I opened this hellish Pandora's box.

Let's go to the last, and what I consider the worst of all. In the middle of 2016 or 2017, if I'm not mistaken, my uncle passed away due to an illness he had been fighting for years. To cope with the grief, just as I did when I lost my father, I wrote a story in his honor. But I think I wasn't so well psychologically to write something of that weight, you know? Knowing that I was writing this story for someone who died affected me a lot, so for my own good, I put that story aside. And what message did I receive? "Has the mourning ended, and you gave up writing?"

I swear, if I were 1% better mentally, I would have already told the person to go to hell. But I was so down that I just uninstalled the app from my phone and for a while considered giving up writing.

And, just so this post doesn't end with nerve-wracking stories, I say, I decided to come back and not let that unloved and rude person stop me from doing what I loved the most. And as for him? After sending me the message, he never touched the account on that site again. So I think each of us made great choices in this regard.

That's all! Thank you very much for reading, and a big hug to everyone. ❣️