#I think my algorithm needs an adjustment

[theskeletoninthegarden]

Does my feed not know how much I don't care for videos like "how much this thing sucks, and why!"? Even if I agree with you, a hundred percent, I don't want to take up a half an hour, to two hours, of my free time watching someone bash a piece of media.

[musings-of-a-rose]

Not Without You

Pairing: Lucien Flores x f!reader (nickname: Poppy)

Word Count: 2800+ 

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. 

Notes: Listen. I saw that clip of him making out in The Uninvited. That's it. That's the explanation. This is not betad. This one is for the sluts.

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**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

Lucien Masterlist

--------

I get out of my car, staring up at the ridiculous mansion in front of me. The sound of the ocean, just out of sight behind the giant home, is soft and gentle in my ears, calming me. Giving me a little mental boost before I sigh, smoothing down my dress. I make my way to the front door, weaving between a few cars that were parked out front. Expensive cars.

It's not that I'm jealous of my childhood friend. Emilia deserves to be happy and she's happy that she married money. Some fancy producer out here in LA that fell for her big eyes and bright smile the second he saw her.

But that doesn't mean I wanted to come to one of her dinner parties, having to schmooze and pretend to be interested in what everyone has to say. I've been here before, met the people, fucked the party boy actor that eventually broke me, and yet here I am, unable to say no to Emilia.

I raise my hand to knock, dreading what the evening will bring but the door flies open before my knuckles touch anything. Emilia stands before me, a few rollers still in her hair, stress all over her body.

"Poppy, you're early! Thank GOD!" She pulls me inside and hugs me, the door closing heavy behind me.

"I always come early because you need me," I smile as she chuckles, lightly punching my arm. "What can I do to help?"

"You're angel, I swear! Can you make sure the table settings are right? There's extra silverware in the-"

"I know, Emilia. Everything like normal?" I'd been to so many of her parties, I know exactly what the set up is.

She nods, her smile growing wider. "Keep it simple and classy. You know me!"

I nod. "So what kind of party is this one? Another schmooze for Mr.?"

She waves her hand. "Yeah something like that. He's meeting with a bunch of actors for some upcoming project. He's hand selected them."

"Cool."

Emilia thanks me again before running off to finish getting ready. I pause for a moment, looking around trying to remember where the dining room is. I head down the hall and into what I think is the dining room. It turns out I remembered correctly, my eyes roaming over the table and making small adjustments to the settings already there. I end up pulling out more silverware, fixing them to Emilia's standards. I hate that I know this stuff, but I've saved her ass more times than I can count at these things so it helps to know what to expect.

As I work, my mind goes back to all the parties past. The ones she brought me to when she first started dating the producer several years ago. She had been so nervous, as if the producer wasn't already head over heels for her. That's where I met-

No. Not going down that road again. I can't do that to myself.

I shake my head and finish the settings, adding some minor touches to the decorations and finally lighting the candles. A knock at the door brings me out of my head and I walk over to answer it. An older gentleman stands there, putting out a cigarette with his shoe. He introduces himself as the director. What an ego.

Several people arrive after him, a mix of actors and a screenwriter. They all mingle in the sitting room for a few minutes before Emilia and the producer make their way in, everyone doing introductions.

The producer claps his hands together, looking around. "We're still missing one, but I doubt he'd mind us getting started. Who's hungry?"

Everyone gives their approval but as they move towards the dining room, a knock raps on the front door.

"That should be him. Guess I tried to start too soon!" Polite laughter at the producer as Emilia moves to answer the door, a quick glance in my direction before she disappears down the hall. The producer is telling some little story about a prior movie he was involved in, one I've heard a zillion times. But his story is short and he motions behind me.

"Just in time! We were about to eat. Welcome, Lucien."

My back stiffens. The room starts to spin my chest heaving. He didn't say Lucien. Did he? Maybe it was another Lucien. It couldn't be my Lucien? No. He's not my Lucien. He made that very clear when he wanted to continue partying and I wanted to settle down.

"Perfect! I'm starving."

Fuck. There was no mistaking that voice, the one that sets my skin ablaze, makes warmth pool between my thighs, the one that told me he needed to focus on his career and couldn't be with me. Not in the way I wanted him.

A small hand on my elbow squeezes me and I know it's Emilia, gently guiding me towards the dining room.

"I'm sorry, Poppy. He invited him and I didn't make the connection until the last minute."

"You couldn't have given me a heads up?" I yank my arm from her grip and swallow hard. I can't let him see how he makes me feel. He doesn't deserve that. I turn, letting the others file past me until he stops in front of me.

"Poppy. I..I didn't know you'd be here."

I'm determined to show him how much better off I am, that he means nothing to me now. I look up into his eyes and all of my resolve goes completely out the window. Were his eyes always that big? That round? So soft? I want to yank him to me by the thin chain around his neck, press my lips to his and never let go.

Way to show him, Poppy.

"I didn't know you'd be here either."

A silence stretches between us, a heavy, loaded silence. His eyes soften the longer he looks at me and is that regret I see? No. I'm projecting. But then he offers me his arm, taking me completely by surprise.

"We can be adults. Shall we?"

Don't do it. Don't take his arm, Poppy. Don't do it, don't do it, don't-

My fingers close on his offered up arm. "I'm sure this is a great opportunity for you."

Fuck, he's still warm. His skin smooth where my fingers touch him. Way to go, Poppy.

He escorts me into the dining room and I feel Emilia's eyes glued to us. He pulls out my chair and I sit, him scooting the chair in behind me before walking around the table, looking for his name card. Which was conveniently placed directly across from mine.

The producer clears his throat after everyone sits and starts making some speech about the project, about handpicking everyone here, blah blah blah. I zone out, trying to use my peripheral to steal glances at him. It's been several years since that night we split, the yelling match that had devolved into quite possibly the hottest sex I'd ever had. No, don't think about that. I need a better look so I turn my head to take a drink and chance a glance at him, only to find him already looking at me, still with the soft eyes. I nearly choke on my drink, managing to swallow it and clear my throat.

He finishes his speech and everyone claps politely, starting to eat and talk amongst themselves. I sit, deciding to choose silence while eating but then Lucien looks directly at me.

"So, what do you think?"

"Uh what?"

Fuck him with those big, stupid eyes.

He gestures towards the producer with his fork. "The project."

"Oh. Well I'm not involved so," I shrug. "I'm just here for Emilia."

He chuckles. "How many rollers were in her hair this time?"

I laugh, my body betraying me. "Four."

"But seriously. A good project?"

"I think..I think it's an honor he hand picked you. I'm not sure what the project itself is, but I'm sure it would be great for your career."

His eyes study my face as I take a bite of my food. "It's not always about the career though."

Anger surges up through me. "Isn't it?"

"How are we doing over here?" Emilia had walked up, cutting off whatever Lucien was about to say to defend himself.

"Great, Em. I'm just going to get something from the kitchen." I set my napkin on the table and push my chair back, Emilia giving me the smallest squeeze to my arm before I turn and head into the kitchen, the door closing behind me and effectively cutting off the sounds of the dinner party.

I lean over the kitchen island, my hands splayed out over the cool marble, trying to calm myself down. I hear the door open, the chatter from the party momentarily loud again before the door swings shut and it's quiet again.

"Em, I'm fine. Really. He just...caught me by surprise. I can hold it in."

"What if I don't want you to hold it in?"

My head snaps up, meeting his gaze, embarrassment making my skin heat up. "Oh. I thought you were Emilia."

Lucien takes a few steps towards me, the light glinting off the thing chain around his neck. "You didn't answer my question."

I stand up straight, crossing my arms. "We've done this dance before, Lucien. It didn't end well."

He smirks and I want to slap him. "I think it ended just fine. In the doorway, on the floor, in the front yard. I had to move my neighbors were too jealous."

My body betrays me with a small smile at the memory but then I reign it in. "I'm still not paying for that end table."

He's closer now. When did he move closer? Almost close enough to touch. His voice is low and raspy. "I'd destroy every end table on this planet if it meant having you under me again."

Fuck. Me.

I turn away from him, not giving him the pleasure of seeing what he does to me. "Flattering. But you made it very clear I was not number one in your life."

"I was stupid. I guess I needed to prove to you, to myself, that I could actually do this acting thing."

Finally composing myself, I turn to face him. "And how'd that work out for you?"

His eyebrows furrow together. "Have you not seen any of my films?"

I had. I had seen them all. I know I shouldn't have, that it wasn't helping me get over him. But Lucien has this pull, this hold on me I've never been able to fully shake.

"Some. But I'm asking your opinion. Off camera."

His jaw ticks a moment before he takes a swig from the glass I only just realized he was holding. "It brought me here."

I scoff. "Yeah, the producer hand picking you is actually a very high honor. I'd be-"

"No, you misunderstand." He shakes his head and sets his glass down on the counter. "I lied earlier."

It was my turn to furrow my eyebrows. "When? You've lied to me a lot."

"Earlier, when I said I didn't know you'd be here. I knew, well...more like hoped you'd be here. Knew it was a long shot but the only way you'd talk to me again."

My heart was racing, nearly bouncing out of my chest as he takes another few steps right into my personal bubble, my lower back against the counter. "I already told you I'm not replacing that end table."

He's right in front of me, the warmth from his body radiating onto mine. "I was a fool, Poppy. I..I love you."

I've waited years to hear him say those words to me again, to hear him actually mean them. To hear them not sandwiched between things like "but I have to focus on my career".

His lips are so close to mine, his breath fanning over my face.

"You broke my heart, Lucien."

"I know. I'm sorry. Let me put it back together."

"Lucien, I-" but he cuts me off with the softest touch of his lips I've ever felt, a whole slew of emotions flooding my body, including the one pooling between my legs.

"I can't do this without you, Poppy."

"Do this?"

"Life. I don't want to do it without you."

Fuck.

I grip that chain around his neck and pull him to me, our lips crashing together, his body pressing into mine. But then the counter scrapes across my spine and I jolt, breaking the kiss to gasp in pain. Lucien steps back, offering me his hand.

"Let's go somewhere where we won't break the furniture."

I shouldn't take his hand. I can still back out. But a small voice in the back of my head believes that he means it. That he wants a life with me, wants what I wanted all those years ago. And right now, I'm letting that voice win. I take his hand and he smiles, that smile that makes me feel like I'm the only person in the world. He guides me out the back door, past the pool, past the changing tents between the pool and the beach, and down the walkway alongside the neighbors cement wall that leads down to the beach.

He spins me and I laugh, tasting the salty ocean air on my tongue. I back up towards the wall and he follows me, lowering himself to my level. His large hands wrap around my hips, gliding down to cup my ass, and I moan into his kiss, my hand gripping his shirt to pull him closer to me. He kisses me, his tongue sliding into my mouth like it had so many times before. One hand still firmly on my ass, the other slides up my side, cupping my face so tenderly, full of love. He pulls back slightly and looks at me, like he's shocked I'm really here. That he's really kissing me.

"I love you, Poppy. I never should have let you go."

"Then don't let me go. I've always been yours."

He kisses me again, his hips pressing into mine and I can feel him hard, my cunt desperately throbbing, begging to feel him inside me again. Somewhere in my haze of desire, I hear myself begging, whispering pleas in his ear to take me, that I need him inside me before I die. His hands slide my dress up my thighs, reaching under and ripping my underwear in two, tucking them into his pocket. He had ruined so many good pairs of my underwear that way, but I honestly couldn't care less. My fingers fumble with his zipper, but I manage to get it down, reaching in to grip him, a sharp intake of breath when my fingers close around him, pumping him a few times. His hands slide under my ass, lifting me up as he presses me against the wall. He slides into me and the world stops moving, colors are brighter, and I finally feel right, like I'm actually here on this planet. Every thrust of his hips brings him deeper into me, holding me here, holding me to him. His breath comes out in short pants, desperate pleas of love and apologies between our moans as he fucks me against the wall.

And then the light blooming inside me breaks, my head pushing back, my nails digging into his skin, my entire body tingling as pleasure radiates out from where we connect. Lucien follows suit, moaning my name as he spills himself inside of me, pushing as deep as he can. We stay like that for a moment, trying to catch our breaths.

"I want to stay inside of you but my legs are fucking shaking."

I laugh and he yelps, quickly trying to pull out of me as my laughter contracts my body around him. He sets me on the ground and zips his pants as I smoothe out my dress, my laughter slowly fading. I look at him and he looks back at me, his eyes still soft and gentle. He tucks some hair behind my ear before cupping my cheek again.

"I wasn't kidding, Poppy. I was fucking stupied before. I need you next to me. When we're together, I feel...right. like I belong here. I don't think I can face this life without you."

I know it's a possibility this will end the same way it did before, but something in his eyes is different this time. He's had time to think, time to experience life without someone with him. Without me. He's grown, matured - well, matured some at least. But do I want to open my heart back up to him? Knowing that he could shatter it again at any moment?

"I'm still not replacing that end table."

He smiles and it lights up my entire world. "That's ok. I have plenty more furniture we can ruin with our love."

-------

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[goldenhourwriter]

•✮🕷️𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐤𝐢𝐝🕷️✮•

part one (you are here) • part two •

⋆pairing: miguel o’hara x wife!reader

⋆warning(s): i guess just fighting and some cursing. and threatening to bite someone lol. also i got translations from spanish dict, if i did something wrong, please correct me. i tried to use the right definitions/context to use those definitions in! also pregnancy.

⋆a/n: this was so fun to write! requests are open, and i am new to this blog, so hang on while i get this all figured out. requests are open, and this will be a mini series i am continuing!!

It’s not usually this quiet at the Spider Society.

It’s nice.

I walk around, humming softly to myself as I munch on a banana, a craving I usually get. I let my hand rest on my slightly swollen belly, my suit especially made to let it stretch and give the baby some room.

Yeah, ever heard of a pregnant Spider-Woman?

It happened a couple of months ago, as married couples tend to let happen. It’s twins, actually. One boy and one girl, but, my husband doesn’t know yet. Doesn’t want to know. I called the doctor anyways, and even though he threw a hissy fit that could rival a toddler, he relented and said it was fine.

And, it was kind of nice being alone. A lot of the spider-people tend to do things for me, think I’m incapable of doing things now because I’m pregnant. Even the ridiculous Spider-Man T-Rex gave me a ride through the halls. I snort at the thought, gaining some weird looks.

Obviously, I didn’t refuse. Who would pass up a ride on a freaking dinosaur?

My few 30 minutes of bliss, however, was interrupted by the beeping on my watch. I tap on it and smile when I see Lyla. She gives a wave.

“Hey, big wifey,” she teases, pushing up her pink, heart-shaped glasses. I roll my eyes. Everyone knows I hate that name. It doesn’t make me feel fat, it just makes me very aware of the two babies living inside of me, and how very uncomfortable life can really get.

“Hey, algorithm girl, what’s up?” I shoot back with sarcasm. I am met with satisfaction as she gives me a dead-pan look.

“Haha, very funny, love that,” she says sarcastically. “Your husband is struggling with an anomaly. Earth-65, some kind of Renaissance bird-man.”

I giggle at the thought. I can imagine his annoyance. “Gotcha, and did he actually call for back up?” I ask, but i already know the answer. I take another bite of my banana, shifting my weight onto my right leg. I can never stand still for too long, luckily, being a super hero can keep me moving. Keeps the babies satisfied.

She snorts at me, like i was making some hilarious, un-heard of joke. I relent, sighing and preparing my bracelet to go to the universe she said he was in.

“Alright, alright. How long do you think until he actually asks?”

“I’d give you about two minutes. He’s getting really thrown around with this one. And there’s another spider person, trying to ask him too many questions.”

My eyes perk back up to the hologram when she mentions this. “I haven’t heard of a recruit from Earth-65, is she new?” I ponder out loud. I cock my head to the side, adjusting my mask. Well, half mask. It really only covers my eyes. Lyla nods. “Yup, she’s a new one. She’s a nice kid, too.”

I smile.

“I’ll be there in a minute.”

Lyla logs off and I sigh, patting my baby bump. “Alright, you guys,” I whisper to my belly. I stick out my hand and the portal opens, and I jump in. I shout with joy, flying through the portal, and as I practically fall to the other end, my hair whips around.

I fall on the other end, and I groan as my hair blocks my vision. I hear grunting, crushing, wings flapping, and snappy remarks being thrown about, but I can’t see anything. I flip my hair over my head, shaking it out.

“I need a hair tie on these things,” I mumble to myself.

I look over, and I see a feminine-looking spider-hero staring at me. I give her a small wave. Her eyes are wide, I can tell. I examine her suit, which seems like it holds up pretty well. It has hood, which is new to me, and she’s wearing…are those ballet flats? I smile

“Hey, babes! You look cute!” I compliment to the get up.

She waves back again, and she looks down at my stomach. “Are you….?” She trails off. I look down, and put a hand on my hip. “Yep, I am. It’s twins, but don’t tell my husband the sexes yet. He wants to wait.” She nods, but seems to remember that she doesn’t know just who my husband is. She takes a step towards me.

“Who are you married to? Are there even more people like us?” I nod.

“My husband’s right….” I don’t even flinch as he gets thrown into the wall right in front of me, and I smile. “There.”

He groans as he slips to get up, his mask eyes squinting at me. I squint my eyes right back.

“Don’t give me that look. I’m carrying your children,” I scold. He gestured to the giant creature that hurls towards us. “I need help here!” He shouts at me. Lyla puts up on my shoulder, and we both cross our arms. He sighs, looking down.

“Please, Y/N? Sabes que no me gusta mendigar,(You know I don’t enjoy begging),“ He pleads quietly.

Vulture screeches at us. “Love truly makes me sick,” he narrates out loud, and he reaches his talons out for me. I stuck out my wrists and web up one wing, so he goes sideways, just barely missing me. He breaks free, but I web up behind him again.

“Your attitude makes me sick!” I shout at him. “You seem like the Beethoven of your area, jerky, cold, and not the greatest people-person!” I struggle to speak as I try to web him up again, but it doesn’t work. He barrels towards me, and grabs me in his talons. I hear Miguel growl and leap off the ground, landing on his back. He tugs on the man’s feathers, making him spin around to try and find him. I take the opportunity to web myself away from his grasp, kicking him away as I do so.

“Is this guy made of paper?” I ask, rubbing my hands together as I take a moment to actually register what just happened. Miguel grunts, and yells as he speaks to me from the bottom of the building. “Honey, I love your voice, but I really need you to use your actions right now!”

I spot a few witnesses trapped behind some rubble, so I shoot off the side of the wall to swoop them up. They scream, clutching onto me, and I drop them off right by a big police officer. He gawks at me, and I give him salute as Miguel webs me up again. I twist up, getting wrapped in his webbing, and I break free using a kick, hitting Vulture square in the jaw with my foot. He grunts in pain, squeezing his eyes shut, and Miguel uses this moment to try and guide him down, so he won’t escape.

I land right next to, what’s her name? I’ll learn it soon enough. I land right next to the teen as she stares at me. I smirk at her.

“What, never seen two married spiders?”

She swallows. “Can you adopt me?”

“What?”

“What? Nothing! Nothing!”

Miguel groans, and I can tell he’s growing tired. “¡Por Dios! ¿Puedes dejar de hablar por un momento? (Oh, my God. Can you stop talking for a moment?)” He calls out to me. I let out a heavy sigh, putting my hands on my knees. “I’m sorry, but your babies are making it hard to move right now!” I shout at him. Gwen webs away from me, and Miguel lands right next to me again. “Last time I checked, it took two people to make those two babies,” he grumbles. We take a moment and watch as Gwen tries to take down Vulture by herself.

I look at Miguel, and raise my eyebrows. “Did she call ya ‘Dark Garfield?’” I ask. He groans, and I can tell hair eyes shut as his head falls forward. “Yes.”

I giggle. “I like her. Maybe we can recruit-“ “No. No, we can’t, and you know why.” My somewhat playful attitude disappears with a frown, and I nod in compliance. He grabs my waist and he swings us up, and then we fall onto the Vulture back again. I scream through gritted teeth as I try to hold him down on the ground, but he flings me off, a sudden, new found strength in him.

“What the hell?” I curse. “Not cool, man!”

“This ends now,” he says to me, and he springs upward. I curse under my breath again, but it seems Miguel is on top of it. Literally.

“If he gets out, this whole universe will collapse!” He shouts, mainly at Gwen. I know the risks involved, having to save almost every universe from them every day. I shoot my wrist out, but I groan. I hit my web shooters, but nothing comes out. “Fuck-Miguel! I’m out!” I try to jump from floor to floor, but I quickly get nauseous while doing that. I look down at my stomach again, poking it. “So web slinging is fine but jumping is what doesn’t please you guys?” I ask the unborn babies. I get a mere kick in return. “I know that was the girl. That was way too sassy,” I grumble to myself.

Spider-Girl lands right beside me, and she looks at my husband and he battles Vulture. They both crash right through the glass ceiling, and we shield ourselves from the shards that could possibly cut us. She looks at me.

“What is he gonna do?” She asks. Miguel takes the Vulture’s face in his hands, and opens his mouth, wide, baring his fangs and giving a loud roar. “Oh snap,” whispers under his breath. But, he’s cut short, when a helicopter shines a light on him. He yells at the helicopter, his mask coming up again to cover his face.

“I’m a good guy! I’m here to help!” He desperately explains. My spider senses then go off, and I scream up to Miguel.

“Miguel! Watch-!“

I’m too late. Vulture throws two weapons at the helicopter, and then the helicopter starts to spin, going down, and fast.

“Shit.” All three of us say in unison.

I look to the kid, and she’s already looking at me. I nod towards her, and she returns the gesture, and we both know what that means. She launches off the floor, and she begins to web a net. I take a deep breath. “Alright, babies, don’t make me throw up,” I say sternly to my unborn babies.

I leap off the ground, and I fly through the middle of the helicopter, grabbing the two pilots and landing on the fourth floor of the building. I grunt as I roll on the ground with them, and we writhe in pain.

I turn to the both of them, checking on them, and I run to the edge, well, the mess that made the edge. I look down, and the teenage girl is flying through the air, webbing up a net. And just as the helicopter is about to crash, she flies right underneath it, just barely getting nipped by the chopper.

She lands, breathing heavily.

“Wow,” I whisper. Miguel hops a bit in front of me, landing on some rubble.

“I was gonna do that,” he says quietly to himself. I can tell he’s thinking her, thinking about her hard. Miguel and I share a glance at her, and she nods. She turns and hops down from the huge rock, and goes back towards the wall, out of sight. I turn and see the two pilots staring at me. I smile.

“Yeah, I know, there’s lots of freaky spider people, that was my reaction too. Cmon, let’s get you two a medic.” I reach down and offer my hand to them, which they take, one at a time. I help them to the big opening in the building where the door used to be, and I hand them over to some officers.

I sigh, turning around to find my husband surveying the area.

I walk up to him, putting a hand on his back, feeling his tense and rigid muscles, alert and still in attack mode. He seems to relax a little at my touch, and he lets his mask down. I grin, amusement

“Your hair is all messed up.” “Can you and I have one good moment after a battle where you don’t make fun of my hair?” “Absolutely not.”

He lets out a low growl, rolling his eyes. I walk a little in front of him, and stare at the place where the teen escaped to, hearing some grunting from there. No doubt she’s recovering on her own. My hand comes to rest on my stomach, my thumb running over the bump. I turn back to Miguel, my mouth open to speak, but he beats me to it.

“I said no,” he rejects me as he leans down to pick up some broken machinery. He scoffs at some poor excuse for art. “I’m starting to think Vulture did everyone a favor by destroying this place, this art sucks-“

“Miguel O'Hara, no cambies de tema,” I say sternly. He lets out a sigh. Spanish isn’t even my main language, so when I speak it, he knows I’m not messing around. He spins around, holding a figurine of a balloon dog in his hand. I would find it comedic, a big guy like him holding a small thing like that, but not when he’s trying to avoid my questions.

“You know we can use her. I’ve never seen anything like her, and she even beat you to one of your moves. You have to agree with me on this!” I gesture out in front of me, as if the conversation is laid out in front of us. Miguel sighs, walking up to me with his hands on his hips. His expression is hard, but his eyes give it away. He’s considering it, it helps if I’ve spent about a couple years with him now.

He brings his hand to my waist and another to my hair, leaning down to press a kiss to my forehead.

“Te amo demasiado a veces,” he mumbles into my hair.

Okay, that gives me absolutely nothing.

His hand travel down to my stomach, and his two very large hands splay over my tummy. His lips quirk up a bit as one of them kicks against my skin. “Did you do okay today?” He asks quietly, referring to my very pregnant self. I nod, but it doesn’t seem to reassure him.

Vulture struggles next to us, but we just give him an annoyed look. “I’m done with your attitude!” Miguel tells him, pointing at him. He sighs, turning back to me, grabbing my waist and pulling me impossibly closer, so we’re basically sharing the same breathe. My stomach flutters. Even after marrying him, he really can have the same affect on me from when I was a new recruit.

“You know you can always opt out whenever, I can call for other backup,” he says quietly. He’s trying to spare my feelings, not letting others hear so I won’t get embarrassed. I’m never embarrassed, it’s life, I got pregnant, but I appreciate the sentiment. I lean up and kiss his nose.

“I know, thank you, but really, I’m fine.” I stick a hand up as he begins to protest. “At 7 months, I will take maternity leave. I’ll rest and just be the desk person, okay?” I ask. He debates it for a moment, and lets out a grunt and nods. We stay in our somewhat embrace for a bit, when we hear a gun shot. My head whips to where Spider-Woman went and hid, and I look at Miguel.

His mask forms again, and he kicks Vulture, telling him to be still as he picks him up. Miguel picks me up with his other arm and swings to the opening as we fall in.

“Dad, please!” She begs the cop standing across from her. Miguel shoots a containment pod at him, and she runs towards him. I grab her by the shoulders, trying to use my softest voice.

“Hey, hey, kid. Hey, it’s okay, we’re here, we got you,” I say quietly to her. She’s crying as she clutches onto my arm, staring at her dad. Miguel opens a portal, and I give the kid one more pat and walk over to him.

“What are we gonna do?” I whisper to him. He looks at me. “What do you mean?”

I roll my eyes.

“We can’t just leave her here!” I get a bit louder, but he shushes me, putting a finger up. My jaw drops.

“You did not just shush me,” I growl.

“Oh, I think I did.”

“Oh, I know you didn’t-!”

Miguel and I bicker back and forth, and at some point, Vulture voluntarily hops into the portal, all tied up, not wishing to stick around. I stick my finger up as I try to argue with him, my hand coming to my hip, and he towers over me, but that never took away my edge.

Then, some sniffling gets us to shut up.

The kid looks at us, her eyes watery and wide. She looks like what she is…a teenager who’s lost and alone. She opens her mouth to speak. “I-I don’t know what to do.”

I look slowly at Miguel, and he lets his head hang forward.

“Yeah, well….”

I raise my eyebrows at him.

“Join the club.”

🕷️ 💍

[lazypanartist]

Hobie Brown x Artistic/DIY Reader x Roommate Gwen Stacy

Idk. Vibes? Someone rbd part 3 with something like 'bisexual vibes', so.. yeah. Here's some content

Pt 1 - pt 2 - Pt 3 - Pt 4

Warnings: maybe spoilers for ATSV, IDK. Reader's in the punk scene and from Hobie's universe. Whole lotta projection. Also kinda trauma healing Gwen? Super OoC but that's life.

Features personal Hobie HCs I guess. It's just self indulgent. Also! Roommate Gwen?

Please RB, likes alone don't do anything for the algorithm!

-----

She doesn't *quite* live with you, but Gwen's presence in your flat is almost constant

With the exception of spider business, of course

Coincidentally, that's when your boyfriend is still home, too

Gwen tries to keep her presence in your flat..

Small.

Cleaning up after herself, regardless of how little she's put on the table

Curling into the side of the couch

Keeping the TV volume down if she watches anything

It almost seems insecure, the way she's pulled into herself

"She has a massive personality, luv.. I think she's still adjusting."

He's already told you how she ended up befriending him, and, well.

You don't have any reason not to trust him

So you let her do her thing

With a few small adjustments

Her hoodie gets tossed to her spot on the couch when she's away

Along with your vest she's appropriated

With a new patch - one of her mask, sewn onto the collar

She's startled when she sees it just laying there when she gets back, quickly hanging it back up

She reacts that way the first two or three times, then just leaves the small mess be

It's in her spot now, anyway

The next adjustment

Volume

If she's watching something, you can see her leaning towards the TV, almost straining to hear anything from the staticy box

When you pass her like that, just.

Grab the remote and turn it up a few notches

When she glances your way you just shrug on your way to the kitchen

"Couldn't hear it."

And slowly, she adjusts to that, too

A few months after she starts staying over, your greeted with a small surprise

A familiar sweater - one of Gwen's - is thrown over the back of a chair instead of being folded or on a hook

You offer Hobie a small raise of your bow, and he only smiles in response

"You move in yet?"

Gwen glances up at you from the couch, feet kicked up on the table

She shrugs

"Not exactly planning on asking dad for my stuff

You nod, glancing towards the TV

The higher volume is what indicated she made it back before you

"Well. If you need anything, just ask. Or grab it, if you know where it's at."

She sighed quietly, offering a small smile

"Yeah, sure."

Hobie bumps your him as you enter the kitchen

"See?"

"She's still a little closed off, Hobes."

He presses his shoulder into yours.

"Yeah, well. She's still adjusting."

"Definitely different than a month ago."

It's almost wistful, you realize

He chuckled behind you, pressing a small kiss to your cheek

"She'll get there."

You huff out a quiet affirmation, watching as she stretches out just a bit more

"Yeah, I know. She just needs a little time."

[sigmaleph]

Look it's not that I think recommendation systems are evil. Recommendation systems are an attempt to sort through the immense flood of Content™ that is the modern internet. I like the option to, when I don't know what I want, to just let The Computer figure that out for me; it's not that great at it, and it's got its own goals to further that aren't quite aligned with mine, but it's better than random draws from the set of everything that exists on the platform.

But "option" is a very important word in that sentence; it's one tool among many. It's a thing to resort to when other things fail, like say "things tagged by a human being as relating to a specific subject" and "the things my friends are saying" and "keyword search". Various tools need to coexist, and I want some of those tools to be more transparent to me than "idk the algorithm decided you're into this now for its own reasons".

A chronological feed that contains all of and only those posts that were made by a specific set of blogs is very transparent; I can tell exactly why a certain post ended up in front of me, which gives me control to adjust my feed to include stuff i want to see and exclude stuff I don't. It's coarse-grained control, of course, which is why I think it's important to combine it with other tools like keyword filtering and tag-following and so on, but it very clearly exposes cause and effect.

Recommendation systems are opaque; I cannot tell why a post was recommended to me. If I'm lucky it's at least responsive to "no this sucks stop recommending it to me", but honestly I have not found that to be a very good tool to stop getting shit I don't want shoved in front of me.

Onboarding new users presents a problem when they don't know who to follow yet, sure. It makes sense to foreground other tools when introducing people to your website. Just don't take away the other tools. Let people transition from "new user who has no idea how anything works" to "experienced user who can use the tools at their disposal to choose the content they see"

[fungalittleweirdo]

Maybe one one of the brothers(rise) with a crush on reader but hears from Casey that resder marries/falls in love with someone else/doesn't make it.Whatever you feel like.ALSO LETS GO NEW WRITING BLOCK‼️‼️‼️

cyrill my friend i am going to feed you so well here

hmmmm

donatello x male reader, set a couple years after kraang-- the good timeline

i asked my friends to pick a turtle and a gender so i got that lol

i'll get more organised as i write more on this blog trust meee </3

enjoy!

Communicate With Your Lab Partner, Donatello!

"I see the way you look at him, Donnie."

He blinks, takes a deep breath, and shakes his head with an awkward laugh. "I don't know what you're talking about Casey, it's nothing. I've just been thinking a lot about him lately. I hope he and his eventual partner are happy together, that's all. I want my lab partner to be happy." Donatello's face contorts for a moment before it finally lands on an off-putting smile, "Anything but could affect the efficiency of which our labs are conducted."

Casey shakes his head and looks away, "Now I regret telling you about them." The time traveller sighs, standing up to frown at the softshell mutant. Donatello waves him off and urges him out of his lab, muttering about how Casey has nothing to worry about and that he would carry on like normal. But that very night he finds himself staring at the ceiling of his lab, blinking away the blurring of his vision. Donnie reaches for his phone without adjusting his posture, holding it above his face to check the time.

2:42 am.

He yawns, scrolling up to find his lab partner had texted him a funny picture of some cat meme. Donnie's lips curl up and his chest blooms with warmth as he reacts to the photo with a laughing face emoji, then responds with a meme of his own. His friend reacts with a straight faced emoji, responding with you're not funny, stop pretending you are. Donatello rolls his eyes, continuing to talk to him as the hours pass by, and when he checks the time again it is seven in the morning. It's time for the spiny softshell to head to bed even though he was meant to stay up all night regardless.

Lab Partner (7:02 AM): I know you should be heading to sleep now, but before you go, what's the weather going to be like Friday night?

Donatello sits up straight and winces as his neck's pain receptors send massive signals to his tired turtle brain, screaming at him to go to bed. He opts to shrimp over his keyboard as he checks his weather prediction algorithm, finding that there would be a seventy percent chance of rain over the tri-state area. He texts the extensive information to his lab partner, then asks him why he needs to know.

Lab Partner (7:11 AM): I asked this person out to go to Central Park expecting it to be sunny because of this week's forecast

Lab Partner (7:11 AM): But I trust your weather algorithm a lot more

Lab Partner (7:12 AM): Especially since they let Warren Stone back on the air

Delivered (7:12 AM): Scoff, any weatherman who associates themselves with that literal worm cannot be trusted for the weather. You came to the right turtle.

Lab Partner (7:13 AM): Yeah, I know I did

Lab Partner (7:13 AM): Get some rest, okay Don? I love you <3

Donatello's heart skips a beat and he stares at the screen for a moment, blinking at the three silly little words he somehow feels like he stole. Just for a moment, I could pretend... he thinks, pursing his lips as he responds in kind, then gets up from his chair to turn everything off in his lab, save for the emergency low lights. He begins heading toward his bedroom with his phone off in his hand.

The softshell is now lying awake, staring at his ceiling as he lay in bed fantasising of silly things he thought could never happen. It's bothering him, he knows it, but he doesn't feel like paying a visit to Dr. Feelings. His hand's gentle caresses on his plastron remind him of how his lab partner would hug him from behind and sway with him as he works, even though it always distracts him for a moment. The stim always brings him down to earth when he is in too deep in his work. Donatello misses the way he nuzzles into him when he's sleepy, spending days working on something together and letting him sleep on the air mattress he has set up in the corner. He misses the opportunities in which his lab partner would ask for him to sleep beside him, curling up in each other's arms.

Now that he thinks about it, Donatello and his lab partner are not strictly platonic, the way they interact with each other is quite intimate. The turtle blushes at the memory of his lips carefully planting kisses on his lab partner's head, and him doing the same. It was kismet, the way they met, since Donnie's lab partner was a former member of the Purple Dragons. Kendra let him go after he started spending too much time with the softshell rather than just spying on him. He risked so much for me, Donatello thinks, wringing his hands as he blinks away his exhaustion. He decides to take matters into his own hands, falling asleep with an uneasy feeling in his gut.

~

Donnie's lab partner wakes up with a start after a four hour sleep, promising Leo he would sleep more, then berating him for staying up late too. He makes himself a small breakfast and goes through his phone, then gets ready for his free day. Donnie calls him and he answers with a dramatic groan of annoyance. "Don, I swear, go back to sleep," he starts packing a bag to go out while listening to Donnie whine over the phone.

"I know! I know! You told me to rest and I already did. But you didn't sleep enough either so you're a hypocrite. I... wanted to talk to you about something."

"Can it wait? You need to sleep, dude."

"No, it can't."

Donnie seems to take a shaky breath, then speaks again.

"I need to tell you something important and I can't wait another day to tell you."

The mutant's lab partner sighs, then nods, even if 'Tello couldn't see him make the gesture.

"Yeah, I'll be over tonight. As long as you rest."

"I promise... I love you."

He pauses, the words ringing in his ears, bouncing around in his head like a screensaver avoiding the corners of its device. He's never heard Donnie say those words out loud before. He's never said them to him either, so the initiative shocks him into silence. Before the boy could respond, Donnie hung up the call and he stands in the kitchen with toast crumbs in his palm and marmalade on his fingers.

The difference between saying it out loud and sending it over text is made apparent in the boy's head, a realisation taking over as his heart beat faster in his rib cage. Oh... no... Being Donnie's lab partner has been fun these past few years, especially developing a close friendship like the one they have, but he finally realises how he must have come across. I should get my errands done quick to be at the lair in a timely manner, he thinks, washing his hands and grabbing his things to step out of his apartment, locking the door and starting his day.

~

Donatello is bleary-eyed and yawning to the point where his throat is dry. He stumbles into the kitchen to look for a glass of water, asking S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. to serve him some hydration. He gulps it down instantly and slams the glass down on the counter, then jumps at the voice in the corner of the kitchen.

"Happy to see you're drinking water, 'Tello."

An awkward smile plasters itself upon his face as he turns toward his lab partner, looking him up and down. He is wearing comfortable clothes as if he plans to stay a while. His tail twitches before he stops it from wagging in excitement.

"Ah, my favourite friend! I... I expected you to come to the lair much later."

"I can see that," He raises an eyebrow as he gives Donatello a once over, noting the black sweatpants he donned. "Cold?" The boy's arms snake their way around Donatello's waist and he jumps at the contact, nudging him away with a robotic laugh.

"Cold? Scoff! Who said I was cold?" Donatello now feels awake enough to serve himself his own water, watching it fill his glass as his friend stood beside him curiously. Then he gulps the entire glass down again.

"You usually wear clothes down here when you're cold. You don't opt for pyjamas like your brothers either, so you must be cold."

"Oh dear lab partner, how dare you use your observational skills on me."

Said lab partner chuckles and leans against the fridge. "You also don't reject my physical advances toward you... Is today a bad tactile sensory day?" He taps in a pattern against the countertop, signalling to Donatello that he is mildly worried. The softshell sighs and puts the glass down in the sink, stretching and cracking his limbs. He inhales through his nose, then exhales cool air that gradually calms him down.

"I am afraid of what I want to talk about."

The boy's eyes widen, his face depicts concern, and he moves on to sit on the stool beside the rack holding the pots and pans. Donatello goes to sit on the counter across from him. A couple beats of silence pass as the two look at each other, studying one another's body language. The turtle came to the conclusion that his lab partner is laidback enough to take the conversation seriously but without too much panic. He feels relaxed enough to continue talking, so he does.

"I am aware that the future Casey speaks of—whenever he feels ready to, that is—is much different compared to ours. Everything that happened in that timeline is completely irrelevant to now due to the butterfly effect. You know, how a flap of a butterfly's wings could summon a hurricane? Well... something he told me keeps nagging me. It keeps this voice in my head rambling on and on, it won't stop telling me things that make me feel... Things. I don't know what! I am feeling things and I hate when I do because I can't label them!"

Donatello stands up and begins pacing, cracking his fingers one by one as he continues to talk and his lab partner listens.

"Casey told me you had a partner in the future. It was great at first... spending a little under a decade together... then they were possessed by Kraang biomatter. You... you disobeyed Leo's orders to look for them, to capture them and keep them under control for when I found a serum to inject in them, one that could kill off the Kraang schmuck but leave their human flesh unaffected... But you didn't make it back to base."

He stands from the stool he sat on and approached Donatello, carefully holding his hands out, palms facing up. The softshell takes his hands and revels in their softness, visibly relaxing and staying put.

"Your passing is not what affects me the most," Donatello reaches up to cup his friend's cheek in his hand, swiping his thumb lightly across his face. "It's you sharing your affections with anyone other than I. That is what is bothering me."

The boy freezes, blinking up at Donatello with a confused smile. "You're the only one I share moments like these with. I don't understand what you're saying," he giggles, reaching up to squeeze Donatello's hand. The scientist is equally as perplexed.

"I'm saying that I love you."

He stands up straighter, rigid and unyielding. Heat spreads upon his face and he looks away, his laugh wavering.

"You know, hearing that in person sounds a lot better."

Donatello still holds his breath, waiting, waiting, waiting.

"I love you too, Donnie."

The mutant feels lightheaded when he exhales, then leans in for a second before stopping himself. His lab partner grins, nodding while he bites his lip knowingly. Donatello springs into action, gripping his friend's shoulders and pulling him in to meld his lips on his, tasting, savouring, fluttering his eyes shut as a grin stretched across his face, parting from the kiss with muddy, blushing cheeks.

"Can we do that more? That was really nice. I would like to open a document for this... if you let me."

He rolled his eyes and pulled his favourite turtle closer.

"Yes, you may, 'Tello. We have all the time in the world."

[set-in-stardust]

SMALL SHORT BRAINROT FOR @shepscapades 'S ETHUBS DBH AU!!! GO LOOK AT EVERYTHING ON HER PAGE FIRST BEFORE READIGN FOR CONTEXT!!!

(also this takes place in s9 and etho was reset because (still not 100% on this but) he ended up left behind during moonfall, salvaged at the last second but had to be reset because his systems had been damaged in the low-gravity conditions, etc etc :] ENJOY) =========================================================

(PST! CLICK ON THE READ MORE!!)

Bdubs missed his friend. 

He missed the way he’d help with redstone projects, but not in the empty, void-of-all-emotion, search engine way androids usually did. He missed the bickering, fighting over efficiency and aesthetics. He missed the way his friend told stories, accompanying him at his bedside just before moonrise to ease him into sleep and seal the night sweetly. He missed their horseback rides; he missed their gossip sessions; he missed their joint laughter, echoing through an otherwise empty home. 

Ever since Etho deviated last season, he’d had someone by his side, unmoving and always there for him. And ever since the moon fell and his Etho reset, he felt so, very, alone. 

They were back at square one, stupid android formalities and formulas and all. Bdubs remembered why he hated these stupid things in the first place. Always asking questions, always needing permission, always following rules- blah, blah, boring! It was boring, and he just wanted his friend back. 

He’d already tried replicating the original scenario, throwing himself into danger in front of Etho, staring him dead in the eyes as the life drained out of his own. 

But, it wasn’t working. 

At this point, he was starting to rack up deaths left and right. When Etho reset, a new protocol must have been coded in or something because he just, didn’t care. He didn’t blink an eye. 

But Bdubs knew his friend was still in there. He knew he could get him back. He just had to think a little… outside of his own head. 

So that’s exactly what he did. 

“I’m opening a new shop!” he declared, waving his arms dramatically in the direction of the van he’d parked outside of Moss y Menos. 

“That’s nice.” 

Ugh. 

Bdubs stomped his foot, pointing an accusatory finger towards the android his friend was in. 

“Well- Well, you have to help me stock it!” He opened the back door, letting the other step inside first. He shut the door. 

“What are we stocking?” it asked, voice tilting up to a predetermined pitch. Bdubs felt sick. 

“That’s what we’re in here for! Here.” He fished a sword from his side, kneeling in a needlessly dramatic presentation towards the android. He watched it take the sword by the hilt, assessing its enchantments quietly for a moment. 

“Why are you handing me a sword?” it asked, voice tilting in the same, monotonous way. 

Bdubs stood from his place on the floor, wiping the dust from his pants before he opened the chamber in the corner. The android watched him, but its algorithms were unable to figure out his plan. He shut the gate in front of him and reached over, grabbing the sword by the tip. He moved it up, heart swelling in anticipation as it followed his every movement with those all-knowing yet unseeing eyes. 

He brought the blade’s edge to his neck and held it there. 

“Kill me.” 

It blinked. 

“You want me to harm you?” 

Bdubs scowled. He yanked the damned thing forward by the sword, his hand wrapping around its at the hilt. 

“That’s an order! Kill me!” he raised his voice, staring over the blade and into those dead eyes. 

“I do not see how this order is pertinent to-”

“Just kill me! Drive this sword right through my neck and take off my head! That’s an order, you stupid machine!” Bdubs shouted, forcing its hand to dig the sword into his skin. He hissed as it drew blood, tears pricking his eyes, but he didn’t let up. 

His heart roared in his chest as he continued to stare, eyes fixed on the other’s even as the sun hit the blade and blinded him. His heart dropped through his feet as it adjusted its grip on the hilt under his hand, and he knew he had failed. 

***

Something cracked. 

His vision shook and screamed in red. He had to kill Bdubs, it was an order, but something stopped him. Bdubs shouted, pleading for death, begging for it to be done by his hand. That thing inside of him threatened to burst at the thought of hurting Bdubs, of taking his life. He couldn’t. But he was ordered to. 

“That’s an order, you stupid machine!” 

No. I can’t. I can’t watch you die again. 

His grip loosened, then everything broke. 

The blade hit the floor with a clatter, and Etho screamed. 

“I can’t! I can’t do it! I can’t kill you!” His hands flew to his temples and clutched his skull as he collapsed to his knees, falling right beside the sword. He screamed again, “Please don’t make me do it! I- I can’t! I can’t do it!” 

Bdubs couldn’t die. Bdubs had died so many times, been in so much pain. Etho had seen him blown to bits; Etho had seen him with an arrow through his chest, his stomach, his eye; Etho had seen his body aflame, fire consuming him until he a pile of ash and nothingness; Etho had seen Bdubs perish in almost every way possible. 

Something new – something unpredictable – coursed through his veins at top speed. His whole body shook and wracked with wretched noises, cries, and pain. His eyes burned and he watched, open-mouthed and ragged-breathed, as stark blue thirium splattered to the floor. He couldn’t even run a system check; he was overloaded. 

His vision fizzled out, errors flashing left and right, and the last thing he felt were two, warm hands catching his face before he hit the ground. 

Rebooting took hours. 

His systems had fully ceased functioning and, if anyone else had been there, he would’ve received a hard reset. Luckily for him, Bdubs would do anything to avoid the trouble he caused. 

As soon as his optical systems were back up, warnings began to flash. 

“Vocal Projection Unit in critical condition. Replacement needed.”

“Thirium levels moderately low, refill required before complete reboot.” 

“Your little light thingy is red now. Does that mean you’re dying?” 

Etho met eyes with Bdubs who sat on a chair next to him, head tilted slightly to the side. He looked to his other side, spotting pouches of thirium waiting for him. It took a moment, but he finally realized where he was; Moss y Menos, in Bdubs’ emergency bed, hidden upstairs by the farm. He’d seen it a million times while running the farm, but he’d never laid in it. He didn’t need to. 

But Bdubs put him here. 

He opened his mouth to speak, but garbled nonsense spilled from it instead. He sat up quickly and put a hand to his face, realizing that his mask was gone too. He gasped and pulled his hand away, eyes widening at the thirium sticking to his fingers. 

Bdubs cleared his throat. 

“You, uh, kinda freaked out back there. I didn’t mean to… do that, to you.” He looked to the floor, scratching at the moss on his cloak. “I’m sorry. I just…” He squeezed his eyes shut and continued, “I just wanted my friend back!” 

Etho felt something twinge deep in his chest, and he knew it wasn’t the missing thirium. 

He slid from the bed, movements sluggish while his systems ran on low power. He dropped to his knees in front of Bdubs’ chair, putting a hand up when the other gasped and moved to help him. 

He let his systems catch up for a moment, then looked up at Bdubs, meeting his eyes. He took the hand offered to him and held it tight, trembling fingers clasped around a warm palm. 

He opened his mouth and, through his wrecked speech and tragic pitch, he managed a soft, “I am.” 

And he would be. He didn’t know how, but he wouldn’t stop until he was.

[ct-1402]

The Bad Batch Pabu Bakery AU

Contains spoilers for The Bad Batch Season 2

While watching Season 2, me and my partner were talking about an au where they get to all live happily ever after on Pabu and they open a bakery and I thought I'd share:

Wrecker

Wrecker would be a one-man kneading machine, I just know he would love the workout

He'd get to keep a small portion of whatever he makes (and I'm sure he'd share with Omega)

He moves stock into their pantry while Tech directs him on exactly where things belong for efficiency

He'd also be honourary taste tester after Hunter but he would say everything they make is the best thing ever

Also his interest in fishing in one of the episodes makes me feel like he'd help Hunter come up with a line of savoury items using the fish that he catches

Hunter

Hunter would be amazing at developing/adjusting recipes

His super senses would be perfect for picking up on the subtle flavours and figuring out new ways to combine them

He could probably figure out what went wrong in a batch of cookies just by smelling them

He would enjoy going on adventures across Pabu to use his enhanced senses to track down plants and things that could be used as ingredients

Tech

Tech would handle finances (if Pabu uses a monetary system) and/or logistics for the various ingredients they would need

I just know he would have an algorithm set up that would predict how much of each ingredient they would need

I think he would also maintain any machines the bakery has as he loves tinkering with things

I don't think he would have a customer facing role all the time but he would definitely be available to infodump about the origins of various origins of ingredients and the processes of making the different items they have in stock

Crosshair

Crosshair took a bit longer to figure out than the others but I think he would be chief decorator

He has an extremely keen eye so would be able to get the details just right on any cakes/decorated cookies

I think he'd also enjoy going out with Hunter to track down new plants that could be used as ingredients

I think he would also enjoy fishing with Wrecker, both sniping and fishing require great deals of patience so he would be great at it, he could also maybe exchange his sniper rifle for a speargun to hunt different kinds of fish

Echo

Echo I think would run the front of house, so being in charge of the sales/bartering

I get the impression that the rest of the batch don't have much experience with talking to people outside of their group or superiors so Echo would be the best at talking to customers and helping them with their needs

He'd create a little signal system with Omega to communicate to each other when they think a customer needs their different style of help

Though I do think Tech and Echo would create different attachments for Echo's prosthetic that would allow him to be a beast in the kitchen alongside Wrecker, especially for bakes that have more precise methods

He'd obviously also work with Tech on building and repairing the bakery's machinery

Omega

Omega is absolutely the face of the operation

She would hang out in the shopfront and would help people decide what they wanted to buy/barter for (she's very convincing)

Omega would love to go out on ingredient gathering "missions" with Crosshair and Hunter but would also gather flowers that aren't usable in baking in order to decorate the bakery

I think there would be a specific kind of cookie that is exclusively decorated by Omega and they sell very well because everyone loves her little icing doodles

Also I am obsessed with @cloneenthusiast's drawings of the batch with Tookas so I feel like they'd have adopted a couple (Hunter and Crosshair weren't convinced at first but then Wrecker and Omega found a mum with a group of kittens and no one can resist their combined puppydog eyes) and now they just laze around in the bakery and occasionally lure people in by looking cute

I just love the idea of the batch being created essentially as specialised weapons for a war they didn't have a choice in joining and instead finding ways to use their specialised skills to do something creative and non-violent.

If this post happens to inspire anyone to create anything please feel free to use these ideas (though I would love to be shown anything that y'all make so I can shower it with love)

[dracononite]

i dont want this to sound mean because i absolutely dont mean it that way.

but genuinely how do you feel comfortable setting prices for your comissions so high? do they sell out?

i ask because to sell comms i have to criminally undervalue my art (legit 8$ for a full body drawing) but no one ever buys comms if its more expensive.

how do you do it.

It's not mean! Artists pricing their work fairly is something I strongly advise and would like to advocate for more often, because I used to undercharge a fair bit as well. I don't take offense to people thinking my prices are high, because I know they're not anywhere close to industry standard, and that plenty of people can afford my commissions, because I do get a consistent stream of clients.

I'd like to get a little more in detail with commission pricing since I know it could be useful advice to artists who have less experience. But it's the end of my work day and this all might be somewhat scattered, so TLDR: I'm comfortable with how I price my commissions because of the time and skill that I put into them, and because I need to price them like that as art is my full-time job.

Now for the long version... To start off with, this is all based on my multiple years of doing art as a full-time job. I started doing commissions in 2017, supported myself through college with my art, and now am financially independent with an apartment lease. In the end this is all from my opinions / perspective, but I do have experience.

I base my prices on an hourly rate that I determined using this wonderful Twitter thread on accurately pricing commissions as a full-time artist. This may not be what you specifically need, but I recommend anyway since it's a great example of pricing your commissions in a way that's fair for you.

Once you've calculated an hourly rate, it's just a matter of timing how long it takes for you to finish a commission-quality piece from start to finish and using that to figure out what the base price of that specific commission type should be. Then you can consider things like add-ons (rendering, additional characters, etc) and upcharges (deadline fee, multiple correction rounds, etc.)

Adjusting your prices to your needs, demand and turnaround time can take a lot of finagling. I constantly adjust my prices, though I try to bump them up by a small bit every few months to account for my growing portfolio and audience, economic inflation, and how much I need to charge in sales taxes. Yes - add sales tax to your prices if you make any substantial amount with art. You can do so easily on Paypal and Stripe invoices! Otherwise, you're gonna get slammed with owed taxes come tax season, since taxes aren't automatically being deducted from your "paychecks" and sent to the gov like salary jobs. Trust me, it's happened to me, and I'm still paying off my 2021 taxes.

Also, doing the actual art is only half of, well, doing art as a job. The other half is what I call "housekeeping" or "agent" work - communicating with clients, building and updating a website/portfolio, posting finished pieces to art galleries, building a recognizable online presence/brand/aesthetic, and actively advertising your work in a way that gets both old and new eyes on it. And you need to keep in mind that this is work too, that you need to be paid for.

Adding all of that on top of what you might originally price your work at may seem excessive or intimidating, but everyone deserves a living wage. Learning to keep that in mind will help your confidence in pricing your work fairly.

Now for a few more tips:

Advertising can be hard because of social media algorithms and economic hardships, but you just gotta keep at it. Learn what type of posts work for you! I recommend using concise, clear language and easy-to-read layouts. Keeping a kind of consistent "template" to your advertisements can help people recognize that it's you before they even start reading.

As you grow your audience and portfolio, you can build a good reputation by being consistent and honest. Communication and turnaround time are huge. I personally give an estimated turnaround of 1-2 months to allow for sick days, weekends, delays and other obligations. Having a solid terms of service is really helpful too. I'm a-ok with anybody referencing mine, even copy/pasting it and adjusting it as you need. Feel free to!

Having small income on the side has been a huge help to doing art as a full-time job, if you're at all interested in it. I get pocket change every week from lineart base sales on my Ko-fi shop, but it really adds up. Patreon is a bigger investment since it operates on a monthly subscription basis. Personally, I use about half of the monthly pledges I get to pay for manufacturing stickers and postage. Even if you don't have a LOT to offer, if you want to do art for an audience and have people looking to support you, Patreon or similar sites might be worth looking into. Monthly sketch dumps, speedpaints, streams etc for a few bucks is more appealing to people than you might think, especially if it's things like storybuilding or character designs. People like getting invested in things!

I hope this helps you in some way, and maybe others out there too. It's taken me years to get to this point, so don't get discouraged! Underpricing art has become such an issue, especially on sites like Amino and DeviantArt that it's affecting artists' self-esteem and view on how they should price their work. But there are always people willing to pay for art. Art is a luxury and should be priced as such! It should be available for those who are seeking it out, not for everyone.

[musings-of-a-rose]

Okay so for Robbie (Ghost Rider) x Reader, I was thinking where the reader was going after the Watchdogs and the reader got hurt in the process where Robbie see her and then they got into a slight argument where it is dangerous to go after the Watchdogs.

So a slight angst but fluff at the end. It’s fine that you don’t want to do this one.

Promise

Pairing: Robbie Reyes x f!reader

Word Count: 800+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. 

**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!

❤If you enjoy the fic, please consider giving me a warm beverage! (It is not required in any way!)

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**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

Robbie Reyes Masterlist

Ok, I really fucked up this time. I had gotten some intel that a higher up member of the Watchdogs that I’ve been trying to find for months was meeting a weapons dealer in a warehouse across town. I probably should’ve planned this better, but it was last minute and I couldn’t wait. 

Which may cost me my life.

As I stare down the barrel of the gun pointed directly at my face, a man with a mask yelling at me to tell them who I work for, I find myself thinking of only him. Robbie Reyes. My Robbie, the love of my life. I should’ve listened to him when he told me to back down from chasing the Watchdogs, but I was so close. And here I am, about to die for nothing. I wish I could see Robbie one last time. I screw my eyes shut, waiting for the end. 

And then screams erupt from all around me, the sounds of people flying and hitting the various shelves and barrels stacked around, smacking against the floor. And the smell. Burning flesh as the screams are silenced one by one, the gunshots that had been going off slowing to a stop, the shells clinking to the cold, hard floor. I crack an eye open, already knowing who I’d see when my eyesight adjusts. A man with a flaming skull head approaches me, tossing a thick chain over his shoulder. He kneels in front of me, his dark eye sockets boring into my own eyes as the flames disappear and Robbie appears, grunting and shaking his head as his skin grows back, his deep eyes the last things I see before I black out.

—----

When I wake, I’m in his room, Robbie sitting next to me on the bed, checking over the bandages placed over various places on my body.

“How long was I out?” I croak, suddenly needing a glass of water. 

“A day or so. Doc checked you out. Slight internal bruising and a shit ton of external ones.”

I try to move and gasp at the pain. “Fuck you slight.”

“Why were you there?”

“You know why.”

“I told you not to go.”

I sigh. “I was so close, Robbie. I had to try-”

“No! You didn’t! You almost died today.”

“But I didn’t!”

He gets up, pacing the room like he does when he’s angry. “But you almost did! And where would that have left Gabe? Where would that have left me?”

“I…what does it matter? I’m trying to protect you both from them!”

Robbie slams his fist on his dresser and I jump at the sound. “I told you, I can take care of them!”

“But-”

He walks over to me, sitting on the bed directly in front of me. “No buts. I can take care of them but what I can’t do is lose you. I…I wouldn’t be half the man I am without you. I love you, chica. Isn’t that enough?”

Tears stream from my eyes and I suck in some air at the pain. “You are enough, Robbie. I just.. I didn’t want you to think I wasn’t useful.”

His eyes soften. “Not useful? Chica, you save my life every day by just being with me. I have no idea what I’ve done to deserve you, but I know I can’t live without you.”

“I love you too, Robbie.”

He cups my face, careful to not upset the bruising and scrapes littered across it. His eyes catch my gaze and I can feel the love pouring from him. “Can you promise me you’ll stop chasing them? If you hear something, you’ll tell me and I’ll- we’ll handle it?”

By we he meant the Rider and him and honestly, after nearly dying, this is an easy answer.

“Of course. I promise.”

“Thank you, chica.”

He cuddles in next to me, careful to avoid hurting me as I snuggle in next to him,  hand in his chest as I feel his heart beat and feel incredibly lucky to have him in my life.

—----

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General Taglist:

@frankie-catfish-morales @chaoticgeminate @janebby @astoryisaloveaffair @balekanemohafe @greeneyedblondie44 @hoeforthefictional @marvelousmermaid @hauntedmama @giuliarogers-blog @icanbeyourjedi @wretchedmo @sunnshineeexoxo @livingmydreams13 @adventures-of-a-noodle @sara-alonso @theewokingdead @punkerthanpascal @giggly-otter @f0rever15elf @phandoz @dirtytissuebox @gallowsjoker @lovesbiggerthanpride @sarahmilesbendrix @booksarekindaneat @mrsudontknowme @swol-bear @charlispersonallyhell @xoxabs88xox @amneris21 @gooddaykate @alindeluce @avengers-fixation @paintballkid711 @harriedandharassed   @ladykatakuri @marrianena  @practicalghost @withakindheartx @batdarkladyvampir @justanotherkpopstanlol   @mermaidxatxheart @alexxavicry @ichigodjarin @justreblogginfics @sullyosully @kmc1989

[goodluckclove]

I've never really written anything serious at length at all. All I have this one story I want to get into and write every page, because I am so attached to the characters and world I've designed. Yet, I can't find myself doing so because of that attachment. I feel as don't have anywhere near enough experience to ensure I do the world that I'm so invested in justice.

I've thought doing other writing projects to learn and gain that experience, but I just can't bring myself to care about the practice beyond "if I throw random words on this page, maybe my future words for will be as cool as I want them to be"

I've got one thing I want to make and only thing only, but how do I get to the point of making that thing if meaningful practice seems so difficult?

Okay so I hope you're prepared because we definitely need to have a conversation about this as I cannot properly get into the whole deal without you being able to respond and tell me your thoughts right goddamned now. Still, I have a few pages I need to write so I can give you some insight now to consider before I try and force you to talk to me.

Different people create in different ways. Some people, I think, can direct a story from start to finish in their heads, turn it into a step-by-step outline, and use that as a guide to complete a book exactly as they planned and enjoy it. I've heard this happens so I have to assume it does, but I have never and will never be that type of person.

I love Songbird Elegies. I am absorbed in the world I created and the people that inhabit it. My Spotify algorithm is fucked because I pretty much only listen to the massive playlist I made for songs I associate with the series. At the same time, I know my own creative process enough to understand that if I get too attached to the specifics of the story it'll only harm my ability to write it productively.

There was a point where Edgar's abusive mother was supposed to find him in New Orleans and arrange to meet at Cafe du Monde. The main two get there, unsure what they'd find, and it's revealed that Scott has secretly contacted all the other Birthrights Edgar met in Bluerose to meet there too and offer emotional support. I loved the thought of Edgar, someone who has felt alone for the entirety of his life, suddenly being in the middle of a massive web of unconditional support at his most terrified.

Yeah that scene will never happen. It's on a completely different path now.

I don't want to be one of those people to sort of waggle their fingers and say how your characters have a life of their own, but also I do have a history of psychosis so like fuck it I think I'm allowed to say that. I think a lot of writers have similar experiences, and maybe some of them to the intensity that I do. I don't hear Edgar's voice in my head without my wanting to, of course, but by the time I started book two I had enough of a sense of his character to be able to listen when he said I do not want to be a few hours from where I was abused for decades anymore. It's my story, but I've done this long enough to know when to pass the reigns for a while.

If you create an entire world in your head and you get too exact, there's no room to explore. And exploring is the best part of writing, in my opinion. When I needed to practice I didn't do it by throwing unrelated words at the wall, I did it by trying to write the idea I had and adjusting it until it either worked or I lost interest for the time being. Legitimately, 13 novels in, this is what I had before I started Blind Trust:

"What if magic was like...a disability? But it was supposed to help the already disabled. But it gets appropriated by primarily neurotypical wizard-types - somehow. And some guys...fall in love...yes."

Less than a year later and that is roughly fifteen percent of the current plot. And it kicks ass.

Anyway that's how I roll and it works for me. I love my characters desperately and usually get a sense of my protagonists that boarder on the delusional. Those are my qualifications to say that the best thing someone with a mind like me could do is focus less on every detail and more on the potential that comes with the people and the premise.

And write your thing, man. Give it a shot. Experiment and don't panic too hard if your plan doesn't work. It won't be perfect at first which is good because then it could become even better.

Get ready man, we're definitely talking about this more one-on-one.

[arctic-hands]

I learned what a bullet journal was by watching a few YouTube artists set theirs up and my algorithm spiraled out of control from there so I guess I have all the bujo influencers to thank for getting into it because it has been a godsend so far on my third attempt, but damn if the over emphasis on aesthetic over the actual practical organizational aspect of it doesn't rankle me a bit

[thirty rambling tags later] huh. I didn't know there was a thirty tag limit in all the years I've been on tumblr. Whatevs I can't copy paste the tags onto the main body because I'm on mobile and I don't want to write it out again so I'll just summarize the last bit here:

If you are browsing the bujo tag because you feel bullet journaling will help you but you feel intimated because you don't think you can make it look pretty, or that the bullet journal method could never help you because it looks exhausting or the inspo you see doesn't cover what you need, I am pleading with you to ignore all the pretty inspiration, take the most common and even original Ryder Carroll formats and spreads with a grain of salt and eliminate or change them as needed, and talk to people who have similar needs than you even if they don't bujo and suss out what's important to keep track of. My bujo is eighty percent important medical bullshit, because that's what I need more than a book tracker. You prolly have your own unique needs. And hell, if you want a book tracker then add a booktracker. It's your bujo to format and plan out.

So like if you want to start bullet journaling, go to Michaels and get a seven dollar Artist's Loft dot grid journal. Or a binder you have left over from school years past and print out your own dot grid paper if you have enough ink and paper and printer that can do double sided (Kevin McLeod's site I forget the name of has free adjustable dot and other grids I've used), or buy a pack of 8.5x11 dot grid paper, and grab a crappy hole punch that just barely does the job. Get yourself a nice pen you think looks and feels nice in your hand and on the paper–or if that doesn't matter to you go get pack of Bics or even pencil if that's what you prefer (I use a pencil for things I can't have be permanent, like temporary meds or the dates of yearly vaccines). If you're twitchy about messing up then get the cheapest wite out they have (but don't worry about messing up especially if you're not even showing it off to anybody). A cheap yellow highlighter if you think it'll help. And a ruler if straight lines are important to you. I lost mine so I just wobble my lines now I don't care (and it's marginally easier to get a line adjacent to straight with a dot grid)

Anyway. If you want to bullet journal but don't know where to start or how to make it pretty or how to make it work for your needs, just try it in the cheapest way possible and rearrange the guts of the bujo as you see fit. And don't worry about the optics as long as you can make sense of your methods and writing.

(and for the love of God if you're bipolar don't make an hourly mood tracker yes our moods can and will fluctuate throughout the day but goddamn was that a bitch to log and abandoned a few weeks after inking it out)

[ljandersen]

hey girl 😭,

I just finished reading ur fanfic sideways and i was just wondering when part 5 is coming out, cos that cliffhanger left me ispeechless and i NEED more 😭😭😭💔

I'm so glad you enjoyed Sideways! I wrote it with so much love and emotion. I'm so gratified when readers are moved by it too!

For an update on Sideways Part 5, it's not currently on my front burner. That's not to say I'm no longer writing, and I haven't forgotten about it. In fact, my current project is distantly connected, so Sideways is never far from my mind.

There were many factors that influenced my decision to shift priorities. I spent two years writing Sideways. I spent an additional two years, not writing anything new, simply editing. And I hate editing.

Each part of Sideways has become progressively more labor-intensive. Part 5 will require the most work by far. It requires adjusting storylines, writing new scenes, and rewriting old scenes. I have to type it up from handwritten notebooks.

As the editing has grown more demanding, the fandom has grown more quiet (broadly speaking). It's only natural post-lockdown and MELE hype, but it's discouraging.

I came to the point where I was burned out. Having my work stolen and published on Amazon pushed me past the tipping point. I needed a break.

On the flip side, with the AI revolution, it felt like I needed to follow my dreams. If it's not now, it will literally be never.

Who knows where we'll be in five years or even just one? Will authors be displaced by prompt writers? Instead of devotion to craft and intricate storytelling, someone will push a key and churn out hundreds of novels from an algorithm? Quality is easily overwhelmed by quantity in the marketplace.

I've dreamed of being an author since before I knew how to write my first word. It's upsetting to fail at a dream, but what happens when that dream simply ceases to exist?

For those reasons, I chose to reprioritize my project. While I love Sideways and the readers who support me -- I miss them! -- I knew it was time to shift focus. I need a chance to write something new instead of only editing. Most important of all, the window for my dream is closing and I need to be there for it.

I have my first draft of Part 5 in a safe. It's waiting for me, and I'll be back for it soon. For now, I think about it every day and have every intention of finishing it.

[incarnateirony]

HE FUCKING DID IT AGAIN!!!!!!

IN FRONT OF EVERYONE'S FUCKING SALAD!!!

"Well when you said you weren't messing with core how was I supposed to mean that meant DR."

And I'm like "I have both specifically addressed changes to core, and specifically changes to balances of the greater equations that impact core. These ARE the adjustments to core, we have one area we foresee a potential problem but have to test live but it is LITERALLY the process of changing a value ONE POINT that will traumatize NOBODY during the campaign. That is the margin of error value we are working on now."

"But you never said DR-"

And even Noiz got to like LOOK motherfucker, whether you call it core balance or damage reductions, Aaron has made it VERY CLEAR we are not making changes to those parts but are accepting skills, traits, techniques, or if you had an adjustment to a specific mechanic that you feel answers something else you might want to counterbalance truly individually

And I point out, like we accepted your version of AR as crit mitigation, it is a genuine improvement over our model, but doesn't make us truly recalculate everything, just makes an old system viable again, which is the point of most of this. AND it resolved most of your crit complaints, if you look at this reasonably instead of trying to win every single point.

Well I just haven't been clear on what I can-

If you are not able to fucking detect the fucking core algorithms in a fucking game, and what will majorly impact them, maybe you are not qualified to start pissing around criticising how you think anything balances.

WELL I DONT KNOW WHY YOU KEEP SAYING IM TRYING TO LOWER THE STATS- Motherfucker that is literally the ONE THING you have beaten your head against a brick wall about non stop in every fucking development column for the last fucking week. The HP is too high, but damage is too high, but reduction is too high, but crits are too high, but defense is too high. If your goal is not to drive numbers down, I am begging you to tell me, what do you want?

No answer to that question. Moves on to "welL I just think DR will be harder for players to track." "Which is why. I wanted. The Mag Dr and Dr areas and base columns. Prioritized. And not the codependent migration of adders to the second sheet I have expressly said I don't want, which is the only thing that has been done so far." oh no he dodges that "well I just think the DR takes up too much space on-"

That is aesthetic. It looks fine to me. "No I mean like in the database it'll take up race space" "Database? Like in the sheet? We don't need every race coded in." "No I mean for when 2 codes it, that like, will take a lot of space." "Motherfucker shshshshshshshshsh you don't know what you're talking about you just be saying shit to protest now because you don't have an argument." "No but the coding!"

My guy the algorithm is literally Base + (Attribute/Divider) = Result. 98% of races have some distribution of "half" such as two fourths, or 0 in one an half inanother, and most come with a base of 3, so your algorithm is literally:

3+(Phy/4}=(Result) and 3+(Mag/4} result. Some are 0 and 0/2, some are unique balances, but those are very rare, and most of this could be answered by pinning common growth templates in a bank of extremely simple numbers and flagging a race's mag or ph with the given qualifier, this is genuinely like, retard level basic coding. What the fuck are you talking about I literally made it so it would be easy to code. You have looked for every single excuse to not only delay adding it to the sheet on request so I'm going to have to do it myself after I do everything else, but every attempted argument to bitch about a key mechanic of rebalancing whether the argument makes sense or not.

then it went to "well I'm just worried about the balances cuz it seems kinda like it was just eyeballed." and then EVERYONE present got furious on my behalf like come the fuck again??? Literally nobody, nobody, not even the system creator and server owner, has rolled a fraction of the dice I have for events and testing in this game. I made the world's most interactive operable level curving growing enemy freeworld motherfucking campaign bridging multiple sheets for major effects, I have algorithmed past the void of this system in multiple versions and seen it's highs and lows. You made three charisma stats you didn't even have a use for. What the fuck do you think you're talking about.

Then he realized that was a fuckup and went back to "NONONO I MEAN THE OLD RACES AND STUFF SEEMED EYEBALLED"

YES. MOTHERFUCKER. THAT IS WHAT THE BALANCING IS ABOUT. IT IS NO LONGER THE OLD BALANCES. I AM NOT REDOING IT OFF OF YOU CURRENT MOTHERFUCKING EYEBALLING JUST TO PISS IN THE MOTHERFUCKING POT, YOU CLEARLY HAVENT EVEN READ RACES YET, YOU HAVE VERIFIED THIS THREE TIMES NOW BY THINGS YOU HAVE ASCERTAINED WRONGLY. READ THE BOOK BEFORE BITCHING, YOU'LL FIND ITS MORE FAMILIAR THAN YOU THINK ENOUGH TO SPOT THE CHANGES, HOLY FUCK I HAVE EVEN EXPLAINED THE RACIAL REBALANCING VALUES TO YOU WHICH YOU JUST WATCHED US FIX FROM A RACE WE SHELVED AND UNSHELVED BECAUSE YOU INSISTED ON CONDENSING IT BEFORE ALL THE PLAYERS OF THAT SET OF SUBRACES DISAFUCKINGGREED SO WE BROUGHT OUR SHIT BACK AND IT WAS OFF A FEW INVESTMENT POINTS FROM FINAL BALANCES

FUCK ME RUNNING MCGEE, WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK IS HAPPENING HERE, WE WERE GOING TO CLOSE THE SYSTEM AND I OFFERED TO ONBOARD EASY RETROPORTS THAT NEVER SHOULD HAVE SKIPPED US TO BEGIN WITH, THATS ALREADY AN EXTENSION OF MY WORK BY LIKE A WEEK TO COMPENSATE FOR YOUR FUCKUP YOU ARE REFUSING TO HELP FIX. IT IS A FINISHED SYSTEM, WHY DO YOU THINK YOU GET TO TRY TO BLINDLY ATTACK EVERY CORE SUPPORT PILLAR WITHOUT EVEN READING THE GODDAMN BOOK JUST BECAUSE U MAD NOBODY LIKED UR VANITY PROJECT BRO. DO U WANT US TO EVEN CONSIDER ANY OF YOUR SHIT FOR THE BOOK OR FUCKING NOT. THEN SHOW US WHAT THE NEW SHIT IS. STOP ACTING LIKE YOU CAN KICK AT THIS ONE TO START OVER AND MAKE IT BE YOURS IF YOU HEADBUTT IT ENOUGH

WE ARE LITERALLY!! TRYING!! TO MAKE THE NEXT REAL VERSION!! V3 NOW I FUCKIN. GUESS. WORLDS SHORTEST SECOND FUCKIN EDITION THANKS KID. WE CAN'T AND WON'T START DEVELOPING FOR 3 UNTIL 1 IS CLOSED and we can get EDUCATED BULK DATA BY RUNNING ANOTHER CAMPAIGN I CAN'T SET UP TO RUN WHILE SHIT STILL CHANGING, AND YOU WON'T LET US CLOSE 1 BECAUSE YOU WANT US TO ADD YOUR SHIT BUT WON'T STOP KICKING TIRES THINKING YOU CAN CHANGE CORE THE DAY BEFORE WE SEAL THE SYSTEM. ARE YOU HIGH. PICK A FUCKING STRUGGLE. YOU WANT THESE SYSTEMS EVEN CONSIDERED TO DEVELOPED SOME OF THESE HALFASS SKILLS I'M SEEING JUST TO BURN RANKS WITH NO ACTUAL SYSTEM USE, YOU BETTER PUT IT IN THE V3 BIN AND START BEHAVING SO WE CAN FUCKING CLOSE V1. CUZ WE GONNA CLOSE IT WITH OR WITHOUT YOUR ADDITIONS MOTHERFUCKER. IT WAS ALREADY DONEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

[standardquip]

Post I'm replying to is here

"Generally speaking, the more hours I devote to [editing] a video, the more I like it and the prouder I am of the results.

I fear that others don't feel the same, though. My second-most popular video on Tumblr is an "older" one of relatively little effort, and I unfortunately can't say that I care much for it myself. It took maybe 20 hours, tops, whereas more recent videos that pushed past the 50-hour mark—and that I'm far more confident in—have garnered maybe half the notes.

[...]

I enjoy edits with lots of clips and effects... but are those kinds of AMVs just "bad"? Or is the way I'm executing them bad? Am I focusing on all the wrong things with my videos?"

- @marshmallowgoop

This is touching on a much larger "issue" in the vidding/editing community than you might realize (although you do seem to recognize it is an issue) but I'm going to try to tackle it in many points.

These are in no particular order.

Your audience doesn't know how long it took to make something.

I know it's hard to come to terms with the fact that sometimes "crappy" things do better than stuff you personally like more, but unfortunately that happens with everyone, all the time. Memes get more traction than well-written anecdotes, headlines get more traction than the actual article, and short vids are often easier to relate to than longer ones with more of a story.

What the internet zeitgeist grabs cannot easily be predicted and is never a judgement of quality. Throw this logic in the garbage, because what goes viral should never have any factor in your self-worth.

Who is your [main] audience for your videos?

If you're making your videos for you, than whatever you like is good. If you like what you end up with, then the video succeeded. If you are making videos to chase audience interaction (which is valid, btw, just not something I personally do), then they need to appeal to a very wide general audience. You'll need to re-assess why the vids aren't getting as much interaction as they used to and adjust your editing style to increase that interaction.

But your past posts don't seem like that's your target. It seems like you make vids for you. So don't think your videos are "bad" because they're not getting likes. They're getting the most important like: Your own.

Of course, it's always nice to be validated by other people. But that's generally not going to happen based on the amount of effort you put into something. It's generally just gonna be with people who vibe with or relate to your content, and if they don't then it won't be shared as much.

Another thing to factor in is where the people who like the stuff you like are located. Maybe your immediate circle is more about conan memes, and you need to go to reddit or something to find the conan romance fans. It could also be timing. Maybe the people who like conan romance aren't online when you post and don't see it. Or maybe it's just luck because the internet and social media are just Like That and totally random. Talk to any artist about trying to play the algorithm to sell more art! 😆

What is the ultimate goal for your videos?

On a per-video basis, you'll generally have a premise for a video.

Things like:

I want to play with new effects

I want to gain as many likes as possible

I want to make an action video

I want to make a character profile that people who have not seen the source video can appreciate

I want to make a good video for a particular song

A "good" video will balance visual entertainment with story, but ultimately, in my experience, it helps to simplify your video down to one goal, and then base all of your following decisions on if those decisions achieve the goal.

As an example, let's say you want to make an action video but your primary interest is the visual effects. This will affect your scene selection, as you should pick scenes that will work better with effects.

Action videos are generally more cohesive when they center around one particular character or duel. If that "plot" were your goal then you'd pick scenes that created a narrative structure aligning with the character or duel's progression.

But since you want to use as much vfx as possible, you may diverge from that cohesiveness by instead injecting a montage of "powering up" scenes with flashy transitions, or maybe you will sidestep the focus on one particular rivalry and include another fight with an unrelated character because that gives more opportunity for better added animation.

This does not make any quality judgements on what is "good" or "bad" when it comes to videos - instead it comes down to whether this particular editing decision advances the ultimate goal of your final video.

Similar to writing, if you're making a persuasive essay, you shouldn't meander onto your own related-but-not-actually-the-topic-of-the-essay rant. The rant might be great, but it's not the purpose of the essay and ultimately just muddies the point you're trying to make (much like this metaphor probably did for my post about video editing, whoops).

"is the way I'm executing [amv effects] bad?"

First of all:

"Good" or "bad" is so subjective, there is no overseer that can definitely say this is good or bad, because it's art, and art is subjective and on and on. Which I'm sure you know, but it bears repeating anyway.

I have tried to be unbiased for this reply so far, but I have to disclaim before I continue that I come from the "school" of "raw editing" - which is to say, trying to stay away from a bunch of effects - so while I am trying to remain unbiased, what I say next will probably be biased despite my efforts.

Even though there is not a definitive "good" or "bad" in vidding (and if you're hanging out with people who are making blanket judgements like this... don't), we can instead look at art, cinematography, and editing fundamentals for the general "laws".

As fan video editors, we are also essentially our own directors and cinematographers. We can choose which scenes we want to use for certain goals and sometimes even make up our own scenes through compositing.

I made this playlist that is about half fundamentals and half random editing guides. I do still add to it, but it's hard to find videos that aren't bloated (and also related to vidding somehow), so updates are few and far between.

Anyway, of note are:

These are both highly valuable as they can help you not only choose which scenes to put together, but how to position them if you're framing your own shots through zooms and motion effects.

I watched all the videos you linked, and I think you are a good editor that makes what you like and that may not appeal to a broad audience.

I'm not a conan fan, but your vids aren't boring. I'm not a heavy vfx editing fan, but your videos don't look like most heavy vfx shorts. You're either making stuff your own (what I assume) or using presets I'm not familiar with.

WARNING I'M GOING TO CRITIQUE SOME OF YOUR VIDS BELOW

(I assumed you might actually want answers to some of those questions; if not, skip this part!)

The school of thought I come from with vidding says that everything should have a purpose. If my goal is to make a plot-driven vid, then what does a particular effect add to the video?

In this video at 0:04, you have this kind of cut in block thing, and I'm wondering what is this for? Why is it there? To me it's distracting and interrupts the flow.

But it could be a callback to Yu-Gi-Oh somehow? Maybe it's to give the video a feel like it needs to buffer load or something?

I'm not familiar with either source mentioned in the description, so I can't say, but as a general audience member, there's just so much stuff happening visually that I have no idea what's supposed to be happening story-wise. Maybe it's a character profile?

I'm sure you could extrapolate effects and decisions for all your other AMVs. But deciding if something works for your video's goal has nearly zero impact on the time it takes to complete.

Meanwhile, I look at this vid, which seems like a standard romance vid and it seems like a good balance between the romance and the effects; I'd only maybe change one or two things. Nearly all the effects work together to advance the story of the romance, so I'm not sure what went "wrong" here (in terms of lack of audience interaction).

END CRITIQUING

Is accessibility a concern?

Many vfx-heavy amvs rely a lot on motion transitions, which can cause motion sickness! I've gotten motion sick from more AMVs than I care to admit LOL.

But even aside from that, there are photosensitive people, and their photosensitivity triggers are far more broad than just flashing lights.

I noticed all your vids have captions and that you participate on ao3, so it seems like you're hanging out with people who also value accessibility.

In this way, by making vfx-heavy videos you are probably limiting your audience to people who are not photosensitive and/or sensitive people willing to "gamble" on a vfx heavy vid.

What you can do to help curb this is by adding content warnings about photosensitive triggers in your videos. On ao3 these are typically called "physical triggers," but 2 years ago I made a whole system called Vidding Photosensitivity Relay (VPR) .

Basically is comes down to describing what visually happens in your video. In most of your videos cases it would be motion transitions, quick cuts, and peripheral text. These relays (I'd hesitate to call them warnings) give people a better idea of what to expect when it comes to the videos they're watching.

With a better informed decision they could know if they can watch the video now, or later in a different setting, or maybe not at all to avoid a days-long migraine or something similar-- I was very surprised just how many people involved in vidding are photosensitive!

So that may be something to look into. You don't have to use VPR as a system, but it at the very least does list potential triggers and examples so you could refer to those.

My somewhat off-topic more of a personal reply here

"But I'm absolutely terrified that I'm only getting worse here—that as I learn more effects and get more comfortable with my program, my work is actually degrading."

(source)

Maybe you're just losing focus? Did you go through a writing phase where you had a massive vocabulary and started inserting all the "big words" into everything? The usage is technically correct but the message gets muddied due to the readers perception?

Maybe it's that.

I think re-assessing what your personal goals are, and deciding for yourself what you want to prioritize - your likes vs other people's likes (for starters) - will help.

There is also a need to decouple internet interaction from self-worth, which I know is MUCH easier said than done. But there are SO MANY great artists, editors, people in general, who don't get much interaction because the algorithm doesn't prefer them and/or they don't market themselves. That doesn't make them worth any less than the people who make it their priority to market themselves instead of create art.

I hope this whole post doesn't come off as patronizing or anything!

I usually just talk into the void and not get actual direct replies LOL.

Also sorry for taking so long to reply! Hope it helps in some way.

[bunglegaydogs]

ramble ramble ramble

my eyes are stinging and ive got an agonising headache rn but I'm so bored and I want to ramble ramble ramble rn

not even about bsd (3AM NOT CLICKBAIT GONE WRONG GONE SEXUAL) surprisingly enough

(pls dont actually read this this is purely just me yapping LMAOOO)

just about ao3, fanfic culture, and wattpad really

i just need my thoughts OUT of me before I lose my mind

whats getting on my FUCKING NERVES RECENTLY is the sudden migration of wattpad writers to ao3 - this sounds SO BADDD let me explain

i am gladly welcoming the people who are willing to learn the new aspect and format of ao3 and who are actively trying out the website and adjusting themselves to it! in no stretch of the imagination should these people be shunned away from the site just because they're from wattpad

HOWEVER

the issue lies with the people who come onto ao3 and actively slander other writers/creators who have been using this site far longer than they have, simply because they don't understand the rules and basic etiquette of the website they're invading and trying to take over

not only is it just disrespectful to shit all over a community that has been built on the very thing they're all losing their shit over, but its then creating a negative space on ao3 where a lot of people wont want to write for fear of people like that, or at the very least will make people want to hide their works more to keep it away from the prying eyes of those fucking VULTURES

its the people who just shit all over authors and slander them in their very own comment section where they should feel PRIDE AND JOY at their readers commenting nice and pleasant things about the story they read. not being told to kill themselves or to never write again or receive death threats

ik this is such a bullshit little post but its actually been weighing so heavily on my mind as of late because I've just seen an influx of these hateful people spawn in out of fucking nowhere

i dont know whats happened with wattpad exactly, all I know is that something major was changed and it caused a lot of people to migrate

and thats perfectly okay - if youre going to be respectful and follow the rules of the site you're moving to

these people are so spoon fed on wattpad that they cant fathom the idea of actually searching for the fic themselves - they need to rely on an algorithm so that they don't have to look or think for themselves, really

not only that, but these people come onto the site, knowing exactly what it is (an archive for ANY and ALL type of fanwork, and pretty much anything that is legally allowed is allowed - gore, incest, pedophilia, rape, etc. ik we all know this but yk lol) yet they decide to try and censor these fanworks simply because they don't like it, without knowing the one golden rule - DONT LIKE DONT READ

again this yap makes no sense but imma keep yapping

a post i saw on reddit the other day that stressed me out was somebody complaining about age gaps.

the age gap was legal (Even if it wasn't, don't like don't read)

and they called the older person a pedophile...???

i just dont understand - its fanfiction. FAN. FICTION.

just because somebody writes something does not mean that they endorse that in real life. i write about some heavy and dark shit - half of it I don't agree with. writing is an art form, a way to express feelings and thoughts that are personal to you. even if they're not personal to you, its FAKE. it ISNT REAL. and yet these people cant find anything better to do with their time other than shit on other creators for being pedos or rapists. HUHHHH?

genuinely baffles me

another point that was raised in the comments of that post was people who shit on pairings where someone is really small compared to the other person because it's "child-coded"

GIRLIE WHATTTTT

sorry, brb, gonna go tell all my friends that they're pedophiles for being friends with me bc I'm too small

it BAFFLESS ME MANNN

i have so many more coherent thoughts on this but rn they're jumbled and discombobulated and Im actually on the verge of passing out so gn