#anonymous interaction

[kleptomaniask]

though the night seems to be quiet and still, there's a faint presence that lurks in the dark. far off, but there. it's sniffed her out thus far. it's been searching, lurking, waiting. and it's finally gotten a glimpse.

it grows closer, unsure. unsure if it was another delusion, a shadow on the wall, a hope that the mind erroneously projected to the eyes. perhaps just yet another false alarm. it trails behind for a long time, completely silent, out of sight. watching her. making her out. those features were unmistakable. it had spent so, so long admiring them.

the figure comes into view, standing only about a foot away. it's motionless, quiet, only a blank shilouette in the dark.

[The quiet night makes her heartbeat loud, and she takes a step back - into the light coming from the strange shop's window. She's got a thin scarf tying her hair back, but underneath it the imprint of her hair is pressed. It's choppily cut, as though in haste. She tries to do something, turned like she's ready to run, but remains unmoving. She tries to say something, but all that comes out at first is a sharp gasp that surprises her and leaves her without a word to say. She's become distrusting and vague-headed, and afraid that - if it even is who she thinks it is - she'll be.. upset. That she's sick of her. She believes she should be. She responds, but she can't remember if the question was asked or if it was imagined - the sound is unreal. Her voice is hoarse and tired and scared.]

"...Who's asking?"

[meanao3thoughts]

a feel like the new generation of fanfic readers NEED to understand that clicking on a fic (interaction) does nothing. ao3 has no algorithm. your private discord discussions of fic do not reach the authors. if you do not actively engage with writers they will stop posting. this isn’t social media this is community.

[ddarker-dreams]

Could I humbly ask for some chrollo crumbs please? 🙏 🙏🙏

"This sucks."

"Mm."

"Really, really sucks."

"You did give me that impression."

Chrollo nurses a flute of champagne while you take tentative sips of your own concoction. White rum, grenadine, and what you think may have been orange juice mixed with a lime wedge on the rim. Waiters walk to and fro with appetizers, ranging from pork belly to oysters. You make a face as one of tonight's guest hands their trash to one of the unfortunate workers, despite there being a trashcan two feet away.

"Not that I'm advocating for murder," you quickly add, to which Chrollo raises an eyebrow. "... Maybe something softer in that general area, though."

"Torture?" Chrollo suggests.

You stop mid-sip to prevent yourself from choking. "No, not that either!"

"Morality sounds awfully inconvenient."

This earns him a punch in the shoulder.

"Why am I here, anyway?" You sigh. "I can't blend in with these types. Y'know, don't look now, but that lady by the fondue— hey, I said don't look— she struck up a conversation with me about her properties. Plural. Said that a homeless encampment is bringing the value of one down. What do you even say to that? 'Thoughts and prayers?'"

"I thought it'd do you some good to get out, is all," Chrollo sets his now empty glass down on a waiter's empty trey. You stare at him expectantly until he tells them 'thank you.' "And it's always a treat to see you get all dolled up."

You ignore that last bit. "Does it not bother you? Seeing all these leeches flaunting their wealth, when you grew up the way you did?"

He shrugs. "Targets are target; I make no distinction between those you consider 'innocent' or 'guilty.'"

"... 'Targets?'"

"In a strictly metaphorical sense."

"Dear god," you pinch the bridge of your nose. "I should pull the fire alarm or something."

"Without an actual fire present? My criminality must be rubbing off on you."

"There are levels to these things."

"You missed your chance to be a defense attorney. I'd have liked to see you defend me."

"Hah! I'd be rolling the electric chair out of storage just for you."

"And you wonder why I brought you along," Chrollo smiles. "Who else am I going to have these enlightening conversations with, if not you? It makes the evening fly by. Hm? Where do you think you're headed? I had the fire alarms deactivated in advance, don't even bother."

[aerodaltonimperial]

As I work through these smut prompts, I'm reminded that posting explicit fics generally halves one's average kudos percentage and does even worse to comments, which is a documented phenomenon across fandoms. Smut fics get MAD HIGH hit counts, but DEVASTATINGLY low kudos/comments. I'm more curious as to WHY this happens, so have a poll lol

Please explain in the tags because I very dearly wish to know some of the reasons that the interaction is soooooo bad on smut fics when they are, by and large, my HIGHEST hits across the board. Reblog for larger sample size!

[softersynths]

How does he feel about Bill (in modern day) and how would he react to him

shifty is terrified of bill.

he never knew the specifics of who bill was and ford’s relationship with him. to shifty, bill was a monster that tortured and terrified his father, to the point of ford needing to lock shifty behind the retinal-scan door to the portal room to keep ‘the monster in dad’s body’ from harming him. when even your father can’t save you from the monster, when even he’s scared, what hope do you have?

seeing his brave, unflappable caretaker slowly turned into a trembling, violent, paranoid wreck, without ever fully understanding why, is a trauma that lives in him for a very long time.

[fconvicted]

The way u draw Tenna makes it easy to see him being taller then Spamton Neo and that's really funny to me.

[pro-sipper]

LMAO LOOK AT THIS LOL

KAHSFSJKDFHSJFHASKHFSJ STIOOOOOPPPPP that is the worst thing I've ever read in my life!!!!!!

Like not only is any random anti more reliable than a therapist but now they're saying use some random AI program in place of an actual therapist??

You know what's a good solution to help you with your mental illness and trauma? Isolate yourself and never share your thoughts with another living soul, just type everything you feel to a little computer robot who can only answer with some bullshit amalgamation of all the other bullshit that's ever been said on the internet. That's the healthy and helpful solution

My fucking god yall. It's dire out here

[incognitopolls]

We ask your questions anonymously so you don’t have to! Submissions are open on the 1st and 15th of the month.

[canisalbus]

Could you tell more about your face blindness, if you're ok with it? It's a kind of surprise to me that you have difficulty of recognizing people's faces because you are one of the artists who draw characters' expressions so intricate and eloquent, like a mirror towards their mental states. Do you think it has any impact on your art/art style?

First of all, thank you! I love drawing expressive characters ´v`

Sometimes I wonder if the face blindness is part reason why I choose to draw animals/furries/anthros instead of people, but other than that I'm not sure if it has contributed on my style.

[kleptomaniask]

What's your pain tolerance like?

Great, if I need it to be! Once, I broke my legs jumping out of a 3-story building, and I didn't even make any noise for the 3 hours it took before my getaway got there!

[popfizzles]

Boba tried to get Goldie something she'd use, something that would make her job easier !...

hopefully that's not too lame, hah..

[manchestereyes]

where's "stop being so damn pretty dan howell" come from?

dan's first dailybooth post! i mean, phil wasn't wrong was he?

i love it so much because you can just see that phil was pining SO hard here. he could have said "oh you're pretty" or "pretty picture but prettier dan" or something of the sort but he said "stop being so damn pretty dan howell." not only was dan so pretty phil felt the need to swear (like holy shit if someone called me so damn pretty i'd marry them on the spot), phil also told him to stop because he couldn't handle it. AND he hit him with his first and last name. not to mention, this was only 3 months after they first started talking and 1 month before they met irl. everything about that comment was calculated to serve as phil's cupid's arrow and amazingly, it was a perfect shot.

btw, if you want to catch up on all the 2009 lore, i've archived everything over on @10yearsofdnp ! just scroll through the y:2009 tag starting from the beginning for all of their early interactions that the phandom has saved over the years 😊

[lorynna]

What is your opinion on the increasing amount of child grooming and extortion in online feminist spaces, specifically radfem spaces?

I haven't seen proof of any of this happening. While I believe there can be rotten apples in any basket, a broad, generalizing statement like "children are actively being groomed in radfem spaces" is something I completely reject, especially because radical feminist values drastically go against that + falsely labeling yourself a radfem and claiming to align with our values wouldn't in any way help a groomer's goal of getting closer to kids.

[butt3rflyr3ad3r]

A message and suggestion for @fateunwritten-if and pretty much every interactive fiction writer out there.

I first want to say that I am so sorry you’re getting these awful asks and harassments. I’ve only recently learned that this isn’t anything new and so many IF authors have deleted their story and blog in the past all because of things like this. Just know that myself and others fully support you and your art.

Regarding the suggestion. If you start to get harassment in your asks you should IMMEDIATELY turn off asks. I know some writers may feel bad about doing that but your mental wellbeing is more important than questions. And if you want to turn asks back on or if you really don’t want to turn asks off then I highly, HIGHLY suggest turning off Anonymous asks. All you have to do is go on settings -> scroll down -> and switch off “allow anonymous asks”. This allows people to still send asks but there will no longer be anonymity. I can almost guarantee that this will prevent most of the harassment that writers are getting.

And for readers that think doing that will be “unfair” and “annoying”. You’re exactly the type of people that writers need to avoid and turn off asks for :)

After Septic Saints, who I considered a friend, deleted their blog and story. I would hate to see something like that happen again to another of my favorite writers. So please. Take my advice ❤️ and be safe.

[sadquickchristmassnowman]

i need these three in a room together asap

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

hi hi ^ ^ would it be alright if you could write Infected mistaking fleshcousin for reader and getting confused when they just respond with incoherent nonsense before realizing like "oh wait this isn't them" (bonus points if reader goes back into the elevator during their 'conversation') -💥

As the elevator doors opened once again, every occupant was booted out and had no choice but to enter the next floor:

WALL OF.

The concept of an obby with a looming threat from behind to motivate players sounded fun on paper, but in execution there was no guarantee that even a single person will be able to clear it without a scratch..

Or even make it to the other side alive.

They certainly had their work cut out for them, as the rapidly approaching wall of fire didn't allow them to think of anything else---nothing except their survival.

You were no stranger to this floor, having beaten it once or twice in the past. It was a brutal but challenging way to keep your parkour skills in tiptop shape--you're just grateful it's not Gregoriah's emporium or Mach's HALL OF (a terrible if not worse version of this incinerator obby).

Infected, who showed up on the elevator a few floors ago, was a little bummed out that he couldn't participate, pouting as he watched all the players prepare to run for their lives. The flames looked awesome and so did the rotating platforms!

He could totally clear it if only that stupid red barrier stopped him from exiting.

Of course, he had no idea what lied beyond the spinning platforms and tall ladders, and based on the survivors' reactions....it was probably better that he stayed curious.

As he waited, he looked to his right and was stunned to see...

You?

Yep, sure enough..you were here somehow.

A lot of things tend to go over the skater's head, including the fact that the "you" he was staring at wasn't actually you.

"0h! Y0u're still her3?" He tilted his head, before a grin overtook his face. "I th0ught that cr4zy chick kick3d 0ut everyb0dy...but hey! I get t0 chill with y0u! Th4'ts 4wes0me! I bet y0u get tir3d 0f this fl00r, yea?"

"Floors, doors, and smores. Friends miss the elevator drop." You responded, looking awfully dizzy and barely able to keep your head up. "Down to the boiling pot of fire. Burn burn bright!" Then you pointed to the incinerator wall that was now halfway across the area, admiring the flames.

Infected just blinked, unable to make sense of whatever the hell you just said.

"Dude, why are y0u talking cr4zy? L0L." He shook his head, laughing a little, although he stopped to sneeze. Most people would complain that he "infected" them, and he'd just shrug it off or glare. But you didn't mind so much, as you were the only one who hung around with him.

That's just proof he wasn't really sick. Everyone else was just being mean for no reason.

"Ar3 y0u sick? Y0u sh0uld g3t that ch3ck3d 0ut."

"Sick plagues fleeting worlds. Check outs at the market." You muttered, gazing listlessly at the man in pink, who continued to giggle at the nonsense you were speaking.

"Br4h, y0u're acting s0000 r4ndom right now. Even I c4n't k33p up with-"

"Grey cat tart miss you."

At that moment, Infected fell silent.

Suddenly, he didn't feel like laughing anymore.

You knew better than anyone that his missing cat was a rather..sensitive subject, and something he only shared with three people: Lampert, Unpleasant (reluctantly), and you. Of course, other elevator occupants have given him cats they found on various floors, ranging from angry red to calico to...sentient cardboard.

But none of them were his.

None of them were Poptart.

"....if he d0es, why h4sn't he c0me h0me yet?" He frowned, now feeling a bit downtrodden. "Man, why did y0u hav3 t0 kill my vib3? N0w I'm sad..."

All that he got from you was total silence.

Yeah..

Now he was starting to realize something wasn't quite right about the person standing beside him. He's 99% sure that you knew Poptart's name, so why did you say it like that?

Why not just say his name?

Then...it finally clicked.

"H0ld 0n..am I even t4lking t0-?"

*ding*

Infected looked to see the doors opening once again, and of all the people who were forced to complete WALL OF this time around...only you made it back alive. The real you.

You were sweaty and out of breath, clothes smelling like smoke as you thanked the gods above for the elevator's functional A/C kicking in. You dragged yourself into a corner to open a medkit, trying to get your breathing and heartrate down so you could properly speak,

But all the while you failed to notice your best friend's bug-eyed expression.

"[Y/n]...?"

Blinking, you looked at Infected. "Hey, let me tell you how much that SUCKED." You sprayed a burn on your arm before wrapping gauze around it. "It was totally different from last time! Who told her that having machines shoot snowballs at my ass was a good idea?! You know what it's like to freeze and sweat at the same time?! It's horrible."

"....br4h, that's cr4zy. But I was l0sing my mind in h3r3, 'cuz I th0ught I w4s talking to Y0U all al0ng!" He pointed to your clone, who he now realized was FleshCousin. "N0 w0nder that crazy lady didn't b00t y0u out!"

The creature, who took notice of your tired and battered state, only tilted their head. "Is..friend okay with the freeze and heat advisory?" They uttered, trying to imitate concern.

As you finished patching your arm, you looked up at them and smiled lightly. "I'm okay, Fleshy. Thank you...at least someone asked." You sent a pointed glare at Infected, who seemed baffled.

"I-I wuz g0nna ask, t00!" He huffed. "I just...I was getting mad 'cuz Flesh br0 here started talking ab0ut P0pt4rt..and I th0ught it was y0u. H0w....d0 they kn0w about him..?"

"Beats me. These guys know a lot of things, even Mark's and Wallter's..erm..past." You put the kit away and leaned against the wall, sighing in relief as you heard the elevator's music come on. It was a peaceful jazzy melody, putting you in a slightly better mood than you were a few minutes ago.

"Th3y sure had me f00led." Infected chuckled, shaking his head, although you eyed him strangely. "What?"

"...they've been riding with us for a while, dude."

".....huh? Re4lly???"

"Yeah. How did you not notice there were two of us?"

"Dunn0, this 3levat0r got so cr0wded I forg0t.....L0LZ."

".....of course you did."