#but ao3s...html....text...editor...

[somerunner]

[Video description: In Playstation 1 graphics, an old man walks onto a snowboard course with his walker. He clips the snowboard through his walker, holding it for a second, and blasts off into the sky. Electronic music plays throughout; the beat drops when he flies away.

/End description]

I beg my followers to check out Battle Tapes' music video for their song "Brand New" - since I figure most people don't click on Youtube links, I took the liberty of using some tools to clip just the beat drop.

The rest of the video is just as good as this.

Here's the link; it's inline instead of embedded because it's 3am and I'm paranoid that people on Tumblr go "ew an embedded Youtube link": https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Tp6an4eVzP8

[itsohh]

Same Page

A/N: Thought this went without saying but, this is an act of fiction. Minors are never welcome on this blog, this is for entertainment purposes only and god wtf is wrong with you that I have to say this but this is not for sex education? If you're not mature enough to know a work of fiction is simply a work of fiction and not 'miss information' you're not mature enough to read smut.

Summary: After months of being unable to properly be together, you have worked up quite an appetite for your lover. It's a shame he's not really in the mood. However, states aren't always permanent and he never could resist you when you sounded like that.

Word count: 3226

Warnings: Smut

AO3 Masterlist

There was only so much you could do, there was only so much you could handle. The pair of you hadn't had any time together for what must have been months, mission after mission, constantly separated, so intimacy was out of the picture. 

  So when the pair of you finally had time off together, you knew exactly what you wanted. It seemed he knew exactly what he wanted as well. The pair of you had only been home for about ten minutes and he was already in the bedroom. It always made you smile, how in sync the pair of you were. Or so you thought, until you opened the door.

  Gaz had turned his switch on and Stardew Valley lit up on the tv. Your smile dropped, only for a second. His gaze shifted to you and he smiled kindly at you. 

  "Hey wanna come play?"

  Your feet were slow on the carpet as you slowly slid onto the bed next to him. 

  "Mmm, I had a different idea of what we could play." Your voice purred out and his eyes went back to the TV. 

  "Oh we could play Animal Crossing if you like, or maybe Mario Party but I'm not sure how fun it's going to be just the pair of us." 

  "I'm thinking more along the lines of Smashing." Your fingers hovered over the centre of his button-up for a moment. 

  "You hate Smash though- oh." His eyes shifted towards you and he swallowed when your fingers popped open his button and slid your hand on his chest. 

  Kyle cleared his throat and caught your hand before he pulled it away. "Not tonight, just wanna play. Maybe tomorrow?" The rejection hurt, just a little. But what really snapped was the burning desire that had slowly built up over the months. You pulled your hand back as if he burnt you, the reaction didn't go unnoticed and he let out a small sound. 

  "Babe, you know it's not like that. I'm just not in the mood and pretty tired I still love you-"

  "Kyle, it's fine." Your head lifted and you gave him a reassuring look "You do your thing and I'll do mine." Gaz's eyes looked away from yours but he nodded. A deep breath exhaled out from your lips and your eyes snapped to your side table. 

  Gaz tried not to stare at you the entire time your hands fumbled with the drawer. Shaking from pure desire, it wasn't easy for you to find the vibrator hidden away in the storage. Eventually, your finger made contact with the soft touch of its velvet bag and you yanked it out. A moment of silence ran between the pair of you when you sat down at the edge of the bed. When you looked up you saw that Gaz's eyes were on yours. Then they went down to the bag in your hand. 

  You couldn't help the heat that formed over your cheeks. Now that he was watching you with a complete lack of desire or arousal, you couldn't help but feel a little shamed at the fact. He had seen it many times before, walked in on you, even joined you time and time before but this was different, this time you were dirty and he wasn't. 

  "I'll- I'll head to the living room." You pointed with your thumb and abruptly got up and practically ran out of the shared room. The door behind you was slapped closed and your back made contact as your heart raced. His blank expression raced in your head, mixed with the sting of rejection, both had you let out a small groan that turned into a whimper. 

  That shame couldn't control you for long, slowly you looked down and the vibrator slid from the small bag and reminded you of that crushing core that demanded attention. Vibrator in your right hand, your left hand slowly drifted down to your clothed cunt. Your eyes closed and you bit your left pointer finger. 

  Tension left your shoulders and they dropped when your hand slipped the waistband of your pants. Just that little touch gave you so much. Your eyes snapped open towards the open curtains and you ripped your hands away from yourself. 

  You needed relief and you needed it right there and then. The curtains were promptly snapped closed and you threw the toy on the couch so you had free hands to remove your clothing. First, you removed the t-shirt from your body and then the sports bra that had you let out a little sigh of relief. Next came your pants which were dumped on the ground.

    Almost completely bare, you flopped down on the couch and grabbed the vibrator. A quiet him started from the toy and you placed it against your clit with only your thin underwear as a barrier. Your eyes shut and your mind wandered to the way that Gaz would touch you. He would start off slow, his gentle hands on the outside of your thighs. They would run up and down, feeling you up as his tongue would dance over his teeth. 

  He'd plant his hands firmly against you, indenting your flesh with his fingers. With his nice grip on you, he would pull you into his lap slightly. Kyle would be slotted between your thighs while your back would remain on the cushions. The thought of his clothed cock grinding against your cunt had you mew out. An admittedly rather loud moan as one of your hands went to grace your hard nipple. 

  The pair of you would stay like that, grinding against each other. Kyle would have that pent-up look on his face, mixed pleasure due to the friction between the pair of you. The grip on your thighs would tighten and he'd curse out before doubling down and grinding even harder. 

  You arch your back and continue your breathy moans while the vibrator works on your clit. The grip on the vibrator becomes a little tighter as you feel a wave of pleasure spread throughout your core, it's not there for very long but it has you relaxing deep into the couch. 

  The vibrator slips under your underwear and you slowly start to tease your entrance with it, your clits far too sensitive to continue. It would only need a couple of moments before you could return to it. 

  Lost completely in your imagination, you didn't notice the bedroom door open. 

  The dip in the couch had you gasp out and your eyes flung open. Kyle stared into your eyes as he mounted you slightly. Your legs were between his knees while he supported himself with the couch using one hand. Gaz leaned over your body and his face was directly above yours. 

  "Kyle?" You were still a little hazy, confusion written across your face. 

  "Hey." He paused and his eyes flashed down for a moment. "You were being a little loud there."

  "S-sorry I'll uh try to be quieter." True to your word, your voice practically vanished at the end of your sentence. 

  There was a playful look on his face and he leaned a little closer. Then his lips made contact with yours. The kiss wasn't gentle by any means. It was rough and wet, sloppy and full of desire, Gaz taking the lead. You moaned into his touch and clenched your fist to prevent yourself from latching onto him like a bear trap. 

  "I thought you wanted to play on the Switch." The words mumble from your lips the second he pulls back and you hear him laugh slightly and his free hand ran through his hair. 

  "Fuck, with you over here moaning my name like that?" Your brows raised, you hadn't even realised you had been doing so. "I'm only human, babe."

  "Kyle you don't have to-" He shuts you up with the taste of his lips and you feel his hand wrap around yours -specifically the hand with your vibrator in it. 

  "Don't need this anymore huh? Ready for the real thing?" His brow wiggled and you bit your lip. At his assurance, you couldn't help but feel the joy bloom in your chest. That earlier pain of rejection washed away. 

  A playful smile broke out on your face as Gaz continued to hover just millimetres above your head. "I dunno Gaz, I think I might continue with this." Your grip on the toy tightened and you smirked at him. 

  "Cheek." 

  "Yeah? And what are you gonna do about it?" Gaz pulled back slightly and cocked a brow at your challenge. His strong arms wrapped around your waist and suddenly picked you up. Your hand dropped the toy in preference to stable yourself in his grasp. Gaz pulled back with you and got off the couch where your legs wrapped around his hips. 

  "Thought you were happy with your toy, seems like you just threw it to the side now eh?"

  "Cause you picked me up you-" Your voice was cut off when Gaz's lips found your throat and messily kissed it, wetly kissing it as your head rolled back to give him better access. 

  "You said something?" He managed to muffle into your throat. A moan extracted from your lips was the only response he received and you could feel the way he smiled into your skin. 

  "You’re a bastard." The words left your mouth before he grabbed you and threw you onto the bed. You bounced a little and couldn't help the little laugh that escaped your mouth. Kyle had a rather predominant smile on his face before he kneeled down at the end of the bed. 

  Propped up on the bed with your elbows, you stare down at the man. He grabbed your ankles and grinned. A yank of your ankles had you surge forward where his hands kept your legs apart. Kyle's slender long fingers were stretched out over the inside of your thighs. Yet he didn't do much, he only rest his head on your right thigh where he took in the sight of you. 

  "You're gorgeous, you know that?" The devious smile on his face had softened and became one almost innocent. "Please don't take what I said earlier the wrong way." He clicked his tongue and glanced away for a second. "You're always super hot. I was just tired, you know? Felt like we never got a real break." 

  "Kyle…"

  He pressed a small kiss on the inside of your thigh. "It's like a tiredness in my bones. I mean I got a second wind when I heard yah going at it-" He gave you a wink with his smirk. "-But it's still lingering there. Think it's gonna be good to have some time off."

  "We don't have to if you're too tired darling. It's okay Kyle." 

  "Oh no, you're not getting out of this that easily." Gaz gave you little time to process his words before he turned his head slightly and bit down on the inside of your thigh. It wasn't very hard of a bite but the light pain on your soft tender flesh had you yelp regardless. 

  "You bitch!" You squeezed out and tore your legs from his grasp. Gaz's warm laughter filled the air as he climbed onto the bed after you. 

  "Oi get back here." He crawled up over the top of you and as his eyes made contact with yours, your movements slowed down until the pair of you were completely still. The smile on your face flattened and your lips parted slightly. 

  Gaz leaned in close to you, his skin brushed against your own.  "Got you." At his whisper, his lips crashed against yours. Like a bear trap, you sprung and wrapped your arms around his neck. His hand found your waist and wrapped his arm around it while he ground down against you. 

  Kyle hummed against your lips, his moans muffled against you and he rolled the pair of you until he was on his back. He manoeuvred your body until he had your thighs split apart over his legs. Seated on his lap, the pair of you parted for a second so he could remove his shirt. 

  It was flung to the edge of the room and you pressed your hands against his chest. You leaned down and pressed your lips against his. Nose brushed against yours and your forehead rolled forward to rest against his. Kyle's lips were always so impossibly soft, somehow he could kiss so rough and messy but always feel so gentle. 

  An intoxicating taste that was so unique to him, his lips on yours was something that you could never get tired of. Every touch always felt like seconds no matter how long of a moment you shared. 

  You rolled your hips down on him and he tore his face away from you. Gaz elected a hiss as his head tilted up and his eyes squeezed shut harder. "Fuck you sure know how to rile me up huh?" His voice was breathy and you felt his hand on you tighten. 

  His free hand tapped twice on the outside side of your thigh and you knew exactly what he was asking. You pushed up in your shins and disconnected your upper body from his. Kyle's eyes shamelessly explored your chest while he snapped out his belt from his pants and undid his pants. A groan of relief left his lips when he finally allowed his rock-hard cock freedom from its imprisonment. 

  A smug smile that suited his face well graced your sight while he tapped the end of his dick against your cunt. "I would ask if you're ready for me but look at you, your dripping." 

  With a roll of your eyes, you couldn't help the smile that curled your lips at his teasing tone. You steadied yourself with your hands still on his chest and he aligned himself at your entrance. Gaz opened his mouth to speak but before he could say anything, you lowered your body and slid down around his cock. 

  "Fuck." He drew the word out and his hand flew to the side of your hip where he gripped tightly. "God, it's been too long."

  "Uh-huh." You tried to make your voice light and humorous like his teasing but the strain in your voice just had it come out as a needy moan. 

  You went to move rather quickly but his hand gripped you tight. "Need a second?" You blinked down and he let out a breath. 

  "Feel like I'm a teen again getting my first hard-on, damn." 

  “Oh yeah? What was teen Kyle like huh?”

  “Surprisingly naive.” He gave you a weak smile. “I don’t think I really started understanding how the world worked until I was, what like twenty-four?” His eyes trailed off. The back of your fingers brushed against his face and his attention was drawn from whatever troubled matter his mind set to.

  “I bet teen you was a cute one.” With that sentence alone he let out a laugh and his hand let go of your waist. “Oh sure I was but something tells me that you prefer the way that I am today. You opened your mouth to speak but he made a small thrust up into you to emphasise his statement. It had you let out a groan and you took matters into your own hands. Settled in place you started to roll your hips on his cock, pleasure shared between the pair of you.

Gaz always somehow managed to fit you so well. He took up every inch inside of you. A deep sensation that you swore you could feel in your chest. That cock, too thick and long managed to push against that perfect sweet spot inside of you because how could it not? No space untouched, he filled you to your very core. With every bounce, the tip caressed your cervix. Not in any way painful but a deep pleasure that had you whimpering out his name. 

  The pace wasn't fast but wasn't incredibly slow either. Every touch was as intense as the last and had you practically trembling on his cock. "Made for me weren't you? That's it, baby." With both of his hands on the outside side of your thighs where he rubbed your skin up and down, coaxing you to continue riding him. 

  "Not gonna lie though, not sure how long I can last tonight." He admitted. 

  "Too much?" 

  "Been too long." He groaned and swallowed. "You’re insane if you think that we are only going one round though." 

  "Oh?"

  "You wanted my dick, baby, now your gonna get it. Fuck." His hands gripped on purchase and he started to thrust himself up into you. Taking charge, you stilled your actions and allowed him to fuck up into you. He didn't push it in as deeply as you had under your control, that extra inch and a half being too much for you to take at such a hard and punishing pace. 

  He throbbed inside of you, pulsated inside of you. "God I really should slow down but, fuck, you feel so good." A determined look crossed his face but mixed with desperation. So close but so unsure if he should go over that edge. 

  "Cum for me Kyle." That purr of your voice had him groan out and lift you from his cock. Seconds later his wet dick smacked against your cunt and his seed burst. 

  It roped out over your stomach and chest. It wasn't just a little either. He painted your body white as his voice deepened in moans. Gaz never was the quiet type. Slowly, you wrapped your hand around his cock and gently pumped it, encouraging it to continue. Kyle cursed out your name and thrust into your hand a little, a mix of his cum and your slick coating the inside of your hand. 

  His dick stopped jerking and his body relaxed onto your shared bed. "Damn." He breathed out a laugh and ran his hand through his hair. "That's a lot huh?"

  "You think?" You smiled back at him and brushed your thumb over the top of his member. He let out a shiver that ran across his entire body.

  "Ah- too much give me a minute." His hand flinched towards your wrist and you let go of him. Kyle's eyes flickered down your painted body, fondness adorned his eyes and he couldn't help but grin at you. He was almost proud of himself in a way. He enjoyed the sight of you, that much was obvious but he enjoyed the sight of you so deliciously covered in his seed. 

  One of his hands reached up, his pointer finger extended out. With the flick of that finger, he smeared his cum over your nipple. A devilish look formed on your face and you grabbed the hand. You brought it up to your mouth where you sucked his finger clean. 

  Gaz's jaw parted and he let out a groan while his cock twitched with interest. "You're gonna be the death of me."

[zestyzigzagoon]

We've reached the 'fistfighting with the Ao3 text editor' portion of chapter completion.

[camellcat]

I'm combing through the html of my favourite fic rn to make sure all italics are where they're supposed to be. I've already fixed all the spacing inconsistencies that I was able to catch, and am working on correcting all the quotations/apostrophes so that they're all in the same style instead of half straight half curved. so. if anyone ever needed a fic editor I could fucking. I guess I'd do you well

[anstarwar]

Can you tell me how you post your art on Ao3? I keep trying and failing. Maybe it's my image hosting site?

Hey! Sure I'll attempt to explain. It's possible it's your hosting site, but hard to say. I use a site called Maltshop, or more accurately MLTSHP. It's been working great for me since I started using it but the downside is that it is a paid hosting service at $3 per year. I know not everyone can do that though, but if you're able to throw them $3 per year it could be worth it. At that tier they allow for up to 300MBs per month uploads. They have a $24 per year tier that is unlimited file size uploads. Another benefit - and this may not apply to you, but maybe someone who's reading this - is that they allow for Adult/Mature/NSFW whatever you want to call it image hosting.

Here's my process - and keep in mind this is just for adding an image. If I'm adding an image to a fic then I start a new post on Ao3, paste the fic in first, then add the image in the body of the fic where I want it also following this process:

I go to MLTSHP and upload my image. It thinks for a second then gives me two URLs. A "post url" and an "image url." I copy the "image url"

2. Then I go over to Ao3, click "new post," add all that necessary stuff it asks you to add like title, tags, summary, etc. then in the actual Work Text editor box I click "Rich Text." That's key as it defaults to "HTML" editor when you start your new post and while some people are awesome and good at HTML, I am not that "some people" and need my Rich Text editing box.

3. When you're in the Rich Text editor version of the Work Text box, click the little image icon

4. A dialogue box will pop up where you can paste that Image URL link from step 1 above. You can then add your Alt Text (called Image Description) and adjust the size of your image, then click save

5. Then I futz with the sizing for a bit, make sure all the necessary post info is included, add text if there's any to go along with your image - ya know like if you have a whole fic you're posting, then preview, then post the image and voila!

And that's my entire image posting on Ao3 process! I hope it helps, but if you need further help, feel free to DM me!

[frownyalfred]

ao3 has a Google docs posting script?

Yes! You can find it here.

If you use Google Drive to work on text-based fanworks, you might have run into formatting issues when copying from Google Drive to our Rich Text Editor. In particular, italics and bold text do not carry over correctly when copy-pasting text. To solve this problem, Min has created a script for Google Drive that will take your finished work and convert all basic formatting into HTML for you. You can find it in this example document for posting to AO3.

[hemi-demi]

Hey! So I mentioned a while ago that I have a custom workskin to make my Magnus Archives fics with transcripts look more like the transcripts at The Magnus Archives Transcripts Archive, and never got around to showing how. So now I am!

With this workskin, you'll turn transcript fics that look like this:

Into this!

Link to my fic "Just a Rumour" to see the live example, no content warnings in these first two chapters, but rating may eventually change.

Here's how you can apply this to your own fic. Steps are listed below the cut:

1. Make a workskin.

For this step, I'll refer you to the ao3 guide on how to create workskins. Make a new one, or add the following code between the dashes below to your existing skins.

---

#workskin .transcript {

font-family: "Libre Baskerville", Baskerville, "Book Antiqua", Georgia, Times, serif;

color: #586e75;

background: #fdf6e3;

padding: 1em;

width: fit-content;

margin: 0 auto 35px;

font-size: 120%;

}

---

Once you've made your workskin, follow the steps in the included link to add that workskin to the fic you want to apply this style to.

2. Tell the fic where to apply the style

The document above also explains this, but just so you can see the actual steps here:

In your fic, under the html editor view, add

<div class "transcript">

To the front of the text that will be in this format (it may not be the entire fic! You can have it in the middle of regular prose if you like).

At the end of the section that will be in the format, close it off with

</div>

Now just save your draft and confirm that it's working! If it looks off, double check your html, make sure it took and didn't delete itself or isn't misspelled.

And btw, readers who may not like this format can turn it off themselves with the Hide Creator's Style button, so this is optional for readers! It also works well with screen readers as-is.

Enjoy!

[itstwitime]

© . 𝐎𝐋𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐒 PARADOX.

01 — „ sonder “

the realisation that each passerby, each being one passes upon the street has as much significance and complexity as ones self has.

previous | next

word count — 4.8K

a/n in this universe, the archons are explicitly told to destroy khaenri'ah by celestia; failure to comply with their demands would result in the complete and utter inhalation of their respective nations.

also quick thing, tumblr is very much new to me so stuff like html editors and all that are very confusing, this is formatted weirdly because i can't for the life of me figure out how to do the text how it is on google docs,, dont judge me im stupid. this fic is cross posted on ao3 and wattpad, so if you'd like to see how its supposed to be formatted go check it out there!!

When an archon bleeds, the blood that trickles out is transparent.

Transparent, as in, non-existent–abnormalities like this simply cease to exist to the average human. When a dying man begs for salvation, imagining the God he devoted his mortal life to also suffering... it's not exactly the most warming of thoughts, to know his God is suffering in combat too. When a mother loses her kin, to see her God weep alongside her doesn't aid in the cleansing of her tears. It makes things worse.

A God showing mortal emotions goes against the very nature of a “God.”

The people look to an archon they can believe in. The all-mighty Morax, with his fist of iron and heart of gold is adored because he bleeds invisibly. Each gash and wound is taken in silence, with the notion of shame too great of a burden to bear if even a whimper of weakness slips out. 

The tender yet cold archon, Baal, takes her wounds and patches them within the shadows, for a woman with a significantly smaller wound lays just beneath her feet–how could she, so selfishly, tend to the cut that had torn her arm open when a woman with a cheek graze lay right there?

It was a cruel fate. One in which many of the archons were forced to shoulder without even so much as an ask beforehand.

((some of which, never even knowing what an archon is, before their descent—only being handed down a role with naught but a pat on the back and a ‘good luck’ from a palace in the sky.))

Responsibilities, as it were, very much concerned Gods too. But how could the people know this? How could they, devotees, know their archon sobbed himself to sleep? How could they say she was anything but a strong, profound leader? How could they say the Hydro Archon weeped upon her throne, the Dendro Archon lived in shame, the Anemo Archon was afraid of losing people?

They were none the wiser. They look to each of their Gods, hands clasped in prayer, begging and pleading for their own selfish desires; but the Archons wants and needs? Those were an afterthought, at best. 

But, it brings forth another set of questions, puzzle pieces to slap together—would anyone want to hear of their Archons mortal like woes? Would they want to know weakness, know their vulnerability, when it in its self is the very thing they pray to rid themself of?

If the Anemo Archon revealed these things, he knew it would do more harm than good.

After all, who would want to trust a useless God?

((Another slash to Barbatos' shoulder; he stays quiet.))

Who prays to a God that cannot even protect himself?

((He misses. A cut is dashed upon his cheek ))

Who even believes in the Anemo Archon anymore, after his negligence?

((His wing is slashed.))

What a worthless, pathetic excuse of an Archon.

A large cut lodges itself upon his back as he falls.

And, as he falls, one of the last things he sees is the blurred void of nothingness above him. A canvas of never ending black. 

It makes one think, doesn’t it? With not a star in sight, he can’t help but decide even the cosmos are ashamed to call him an archon.

He thinks it’s pathetic to call himself an archon, too.

─── ✦

Isaroth’s palace is always quiet.

It’s not that eerie, jaw clenching, hair pulling silence—it’s the type of serenity one sees within a paradise of sorts, a place that only exists within the confines of fiction. 

Barbatos hates the silence. He thinks it to be bothersome. Silence has haunted him many times throughout the course of his existence; the silence that followed the destruction of Decrabian, the peace that settled upon the land as Durin took his final breath, the moments that followed after his old friends life was drained from his eyes— 

—the harsh patter of water interrupts. It makes a loud splash, droplets spilling outwards toward the crystalline floors.

He really hates the silence.

“Here.” A warm cloth is placed upon his forehead, nibbling away at his migraine, “Close your eyes and stay quiet. For once.”

Not even he can argue with that. 

((In fact, when does he ever argue with her? Barbatos has found it useless to attempt back-talk with the God of Time. You know that one friend who brings up every past wrong-doing of yours in an argument?—that was Isaroth))

Isaroth sighs, occupying the muddle of thoughts within her head to focus on other things. More pressing matters, such as the mess Barbatos had gotten himself into.

How foolish could a God be? Man was foolish, in its very nature—if Adam had not followed Eve so readily into the garden, genesis would’ve taken an extremely different ending. If man did not argue and bicker, then things such as wars and death could mostly be avoided.

But God? God was supposed to advise against foolishness, be the bridge between stupidity and sensibility. 

A message in which the God of Anemo clearly did not receive in time. 

“Drink.” She holds out a glass vial, some strange, bubbly liquid swirling inside.

He does as instructed, carefully taking it from her hands. He brings it up to his nose—the smell is hardly pleasant. “.. What is it?”

“Medicine.”

“I wouldn’t of guessed,” it's his turn to sigh now, downing the beverage in a few gulps; his features scrunch up in distaste, brows knitting together, “Eew.. you couldn’t have concocted anything nicer tasting?”

She grabs the empty bottle, instantly bringing it to the sink. Dirty dishes are not welcome within these walls. “Medicine isn’t supposed to taste nice. You get what you’re given.”

“You couldn’t even make it a little sweeter? for me?” He pouts, whining like a small child.

Her hands itch. “Why would I go out of my way to accommodate such meanile needs? Stay quiet like I told you.”

Despite the obvious distaste within her words, the archon knows they hold no real ill will—

((At least, as far as he’s aware. As far as he hopes, anyway.))

—behind them. Isaroth was a strange God, in the sense she eagerly abided by the concept of tough love. Ever since he’d known her, even back as a wee wind spirit, he’d never known her to be anything but. 

Was it cruel? Just a bit. 

But he knows she only does it because she cares.

He knows she does everything in the way she does, because it’s the only way of showing affection in her mind. Things like hugs and kisses were about as foreign as Inazuma cuisine was to a Sumerian chef, and so on and so fourth. 

After all, she’d usually make him clean up his dishes; so her bending over the sink, scrubbing the excess off his cutlery couldn’t help but curve the corners of his lips into a soft little smirk. 

A few minutes of silence tick by. 

And, again, it’s not that eerie, bone shattering silence. It’s peaceful in a way.

His foot taps against the marble floors, the first glitters of sunlight peeping through the windows. The rag on his forehead gets slicked off, chucking it onto the sofa cushions. His migraine cleared up impeccably quick after that serum. Nothing but a menial little graze remained upon his forehead.

Barbatos lays upon the couch, bandaged up and battered from his earlier rendezvous. He knows he should be irked, frustrated, but a part of him can help but feel… disconnected.  

While he was falling, plummeting to his death, some side of him felt as if it were right. As if, the very notion of the Anemo Archon spiralling to his eventual doom, was something supposed to happen; as if the final thing he were to see would be a black sky of nothing, and no one would object. A star wouldn't twinkle in objection. A God wouldn't call out in disarray, and he certainly wouldn't part his lips to protest.

The Anemo Archon craved death. Death, as in, the natural cycle of cradle to cremation. The ever-going and ever-present slumber that you never wake up from. The end.

When you're immortal, the one thing most humans yearn to escape becomes the very thing you long to welcome with open arms. If it were to come knocking, you'd almost eagerly open your doors and invite it in. 

((After all, who did the Archon have to welcome in any way? He had no friends, no recurring faces within his life... there was Isaroth, sure, but how could one person cure the ache settled in by thousands of years of loss?))

Why did he have to go on, when all those whom he'd loved had passed? His old friend, Guunhildr, Amos… all in which, now rested upon their eternal deathbeds. Why was he the one to carry the burden of grief, when they were allowed to slumber without disruption? It was hardly fair.

He never asked for this. 

The sun claws against his cheek. An orange like glow veils his side, illuminating the scuffs and bruises from his rather eventful night. It was far past eve now, the sun finally clocking in for its early morning shift. The faintest chirping of birds and other such creatures illuminate the once quiet room.

Isaroth potters about as the minutes tick on, occasionally applying a new remedy or handing him a fresh mixture to drink. As she finishes applying new bandages to the gash on his leg, he speaks.

"Hey, how's Seraphine? I remember seeing her when you carried me in here."

She still chugs on with her work, cutting the excess bandages off and moving towards the bin–it's only when she's finished, she replies, "She's fine. Her paws are a little damaged, but nothing a quick time replacement can't fix."

Barbatos pouts. "Why couldn't you have used that with me? Instead of making me drink all those positively poisonous mixtures.."

"Because," She turns to face him, teal eyes thinning, "Time replacements are used for tiny gashes and grazes–I can't pull a new wing from another time-line for you."

Despite himself, that sly little smile still remains on his face. As it most often does. He laughs off her gentle berating, the sound soft, "Isaroth, you wound me. How could I have known it would've sliced half my wing clean off?"

"If you hadn't been so reckless and attempted to fight those monsters, like I told you, you wouldn't have gotten into this mess." She retorts, never missing a beat.

He supposes her words have some semblance of a point forming. 

But how could he just sit back, feign innocence, pretend to unsee the things he so clearly saw? Ever since the Cataclysm had sunk its claws into Teyvat, the effects had very nearly wiped the entirety of each nation. Trails of bodies and blood corrupted and infested the land, stray abyssal energy lurking with vengeance around every corner. 

Large groups of monsters forged from the ruins of the destruction started to infest Teyvat. Beings of pure, unadulterated hate stopping at nothing to take the world down with it. Many innocent lives had been taken from this existence, left as mangled displays of blood and guts next to another similar looking display.

If it weren't for the people's efforts, Teyvat would have crumbled alongside Khaenri'ah. Certainly such a fate one would prefer to avoid.

And if it hadn't been for Barbatos' brave escapade earlier? A young set of lovers would've fallen to the grass, hands interlocked as their organs and guts seeped from the large slash that a beast of this corruption would've sliced across their backs. 

He'd already failed to save enough of his people. He couldn't risk losing anymore.

"I couldn't let them die. They’re people too.”

"You almost died yourself. Are you a God before you’re a human?”

It catches him by surprise. He blinks, dumbfounded, peering to meet her gaze. His aquatic eyes mix with her deeper ones, finding it harder to find his reflection within them.

He knows it's true, and it's that tiny little fact alone that gets him. The fact he lets her get to him, let her have the advantage, break down his perfectly curated walls of iron. Walls so iron-tight, even the people standing right next to them fail to notice their presence. 

Was he a God before he was a human? Was he, a walking concoction of flesh and bones, the complete opposite of what exactly he was? 

He hated the fact she knew how to get at him.

His hands curl into fists, gaze flickering over to allow the morning sun to further cover his face. As if, in some way, it could cleanse him of all his sins. Bask him in the gaze of complete and utter redemption, "That's what an Archon does, is it not? He dies for his people. He puts them first.” 

((It’s spoken in a mocking tone—practically infested with irony.))

"Not this one," She says, turning back round, "This one stays alive for them."

There's an eerie silence. 

Seraphine, Isaroths fox companion from earlier pads in, the jingle of her collar softly tugging away at the silence. She jumps up next to Barbatos, and the Archon responds by doting a few headpats to the little creature. It settles comfortably beside him. 

"You should head into town as soon as you're able." Isaroth comments, switching the topic, "Every day you waste is another day the inevitable creeps closer."

A sigh. He runs his hands through his hair, wincing at the gash upon his forehead, "Mm.. I have an appointment booked with one of the nuns tomorrow."

"Sister Viktoria?"

"Sister Viktoria."

Isaroth nods. "Well, be sure to arrange something by the end of the meeting. If you're able to find a partner quickly, the reproduction process—"

"Reproduction? Isaroth, how crude of you to talk about such a thing so openly..!" Despite the teasing lilt to his voice, an underlying tone of worry couldn't help but fester. Was he entirely opposed to the idea of creating new kin? Somewhat. Did it worry him even more that the entire nation would crumble to its demise if he didn't reproduce?

Extremely.

He could joke and jest about it all he liked, but the inevitable was, well, inevitable—he'd have to find a wife to settle down with and reproduce, else the throne of Anemo would crumble.

After the destruction of Khaenri'ah, a type of prophet had visited him; forged from the hatred and sorrow from the people he’d helped lead to their graves, a curse of sorts was placed upon him.

“If the throne of Anemo does not have a ruler born of his blood, the corruption of the land will infest and turn him into a monster of his own creation; undoubtedly, yes, the Anemo Archon will corrupt and burn down his city if he does not turn down his throne to his next of kin.”

So that was clearly not good. 

In order to actually reproduce said kin, he’d need to find a wife, of course—not even Archons could make babies appear out of thin air. 

It wasn’t exactly how he’d envisioned his post-cataclysm arc to go, but alas. Life never seemed to go how Barbatos would've preferred it to go nowadays.

“You’re going to have to get to it eventually,” Isaroth settles down upon an armchair, legs crossed, “Why not talk about it? You will have to know how to please a woman in the bedroom to produce healthy offspring.”

You know that incredibly awkward conversation you had with your parents about the ‘birds and the bees’? This is exactly what this whole ordeal felt like. But for an Archon who'd existed for around 2200 years or so at this point, it was one of the most shamelessly humiliating things he'd ever experienced.

A loud blush stained his cheeks, his wings fluttering softly, "Okay okay, I get it.. We'll have this talk when I actually find a wife, yeah?"

"Right." She hums, a content smile lining her lips, "I trust you'll do all you can to ensure her and your happiness, Barbatos."

He awkwardly grins at this, bringing a hand up to scratch the back of his head, "You know I wouldn't do anything less."

The two sit comfortably in silence for the rest of their morning.

─── ✦

The city of Mondstadt is quiet in the morning.

The usual hustle and bustle of its townsfolk cease to only a quiet murmur here and there.  The occasional stall owner may make a slight disturbance as he opens up shop, the lingering sounds of cash being sorted and signs being flipped to signal their opening. 

His feet made a gentle tap against the softened marble. As to avoid unnecessary attention, he’d specifically booked his meeting for extremely early in the morning. The wounds that adorned him had mostly cleared up by now, his half sliced wing puffed up and back to usual.

Isaroth had done an impeccable job of assuring his appearance was up to scratch—after all, in her mind, would his future wife really want to see him looking so.. dishevelled? 

Barbatos sighs at that. The fact he even had to be doing this—at six o’clock in the morning, no less—was a crime in itself. He didn’t want to cruelly shackle down and steal someone's entire future away. He didn’t want to take a woman's dreams, hopes, aspirations so selfishly from her under the pretence it was for the ‘greater good.’

What if the woman he married had no intentions of ever settling down? What if she was a free spirit, a wanderer, a woman who craved to feel the sun upon her skin and the wind running within her hair?

It made him feel a little nauseous. In truth, he had absolutely no idea as to how he’d even go about this whole wife picking process. Isaroth had urged him to speak to a member of the church, and perhaps find a lovely little devotee who would take care of him and their baby.

But did Barbatos really want that? Did he want someone who was dedicated to the idea of him, as a God, and not the actual man behind it? Behind the eons of knowledge and wisdom, beneath it all he was merely a tiny little wind spirit who enjoyed the occasional sliced apple here and there.

These were roles he had to play, parts he had to master for the entertainment of his audience. Forced to perform in a never ending show of excellence, never feeling anything other than what was within his pre-written lines.

It was a pitiful existence.

The fact he even had to stay and watch over his people directly irked him. Freedom, to the God of it, was something his people deserved without exceptions—they had no place within his own affairs, just as he had zero place in theirs.

He wasn’t supposed to directly mingle with his people as Barbatos. It went against everything he’d fought for all those centuries ago.

Another sigh. As he trails up the walkway to the church, he can’t help but notice the work being done upon the roof—as a result of all the destruction, a lot of Mondstadts structures had been heavily damaged. They’d done their best to salvage what they could, but a lot of its most prized structures had been carelessly strewn aside.

The doors to the chapel instantly swing open, a set of sisters eagerly awaiting his arrival. One goes to bow, however the other elbows her slightly.

“Hey, don’t you remember? Barbatos said he doesn’t want us to bow to him.. we need to act normal!” The first girl yells, brows furrowed.

The girl in question silently gasps, a hand coming up to her mouth, “Oh.. oh, archons, you’re right!! Do you think he noticed..?”

The two sisters look towards him, waiting. Watching. 

And in response? He simply smiles, acting as if he was none the wiser, “Good morning, sisters! I trust Mother Viktoria is available as of now?” 

They all nod, excitedly, extending a hand to point him in her general direction. The second girl from earlier speaks, “Yes, she is. She’s just downstairs.. we hope you’re doing okay this lovely morning, Barbatos!”

Another nun perks up, nodding respectfully towards him. “If you need anything, anything at all, don’t be afraid to ask. We’re here to accommodate your needs accordingly.”

“You look very handsome today, Barbatos!” A smaller girl praises, giggling childishly.

“Yes, so handsome.. is that a new hairstyle you’re trying?”

"It looks so pretty! I love your hair!"

Barbatos can’t help but feel special—if you had four pretty ladies doting you with endless affection and praise, how could you not find it charming? 

“My, what lovely company this church has.”  He hums, placing a hand on his hip, “I always knew my followers would show such hospitality! Now, tell me, down the stairs to the left is where Mother Viktoria is, correct?”

The sisters seem to be flattered at his words, their pale cheeks turning a rose red. He can’t help but stifle a laugh—despite his order to treat him like a normal church-goer, their very obvious adoration from him shining through lustrously.  They all nod shyly, confirming the answer to his query.

“She’s in the process of her morning prayers.. but I’m sure she’ll put them on pause to talk to you.”

“Who wouldn’t..?” one whispers.

Said girl was instantly elbowed by her companion.

Barbatos chuckled again, nodding in thanks, "Hehe, it seems I have some super fans here! I'll be sure to catch up with you ladies soon, okay?" Waving goodbye and setting off, he carefully padded his way down into the church’s basement.

The room in itself was dimly lit, only the sickly green fluorescent lights of the ceiling as the only source of light. A large altar of Barbatos stood at the center of the room, various offerings scattered around the statue.

Mother Viktoria, a woman of a frail and short demeanour, sat down upon her knees at an altar—a rosary lay within her hands, whisperings of her daily morning prayers filling Barbatos’ ears. 

“Mother Viktoria,” He interjected, voice careful as to not startle her, “You could’ve saved your prayers till you got to see me in person, hm~? You do have your very own walking altar at your disposal, you know!”

Her eyes widened, shifting her gaze to meet his, “Lord Barbatos, I.. I didn’t see you there. Good morning.” Shifting off her knees, more of her stature came into view. As the head of the church she wore a traditional nun attire, black robes bracketing her frail form. A set of hooded, deep emerald eyes lined her pale complexion, a silk white veil covering what would've been a set of chestnut coloured locks. 

Bowing respectfully, she walked towards a table with a bottle of alcohol,  "Would you like a glass? I've prepared a special offering of Dandelion Wine for you."

As much as he would've loved a little kickstarter to get him going for the day, he knew more than anyone he'd need to be sober and alert during this meeting. He shook his head, politely declining, "No thank you, Sister. Gotta stay sober on the job, you know?"

The other seemed content with this. She sat down upon a nearby table and chairs, Barbatos sitting opposite.  

"So, I see you've come to speak to me about this… prophecy of yours?" She began, speaking carefully–as a woman who'd dedicated her entire life to this God, to be sitting and having such a casual conversation with the object of her worship was truly something.

"Yup! You see, as I mentioned before, for all our powers and abilities, not even archons have the capability to create new life like that.. I initially was going to settle for one of the townsfolk, but a friend of mine suggested I speak to you about choosing one of the sisters."

Viktoria nodded intently. She tapped a wrinkled finger to her chin, thinking, "Oh, well… a lot of my girls would certainly jump at the opportunity to marry an archon. Is there anything in particular you're looking for?" 

"A non virgin."

There's a slight pause.

((The only reason he even wanted a woman of this nature due to Isaroth. She'd mentioned how these types of ladies might be easier to 'romance' in the bedroom. With experience comes knowledge, he guessed.))

".. All nuns are virgins, my lord."

"Ah." He blinks, taken aback. Was that really the life they were due to lead? He had no memory of ever mentioning that anywhere in his poems… "Well, I guess in that case.. Do you have any recommendations? Someone who you think would be able to handle the pressure."

This entire thing made him a little sick in his mouth. Treating women like cattle, objects to be auctioned off and sold.. Gods above, he prayed this would end out working in his favour. He prayed it would end up going in their favour, as now he had to take care of a wife and a child too.

He was starting a family of convenience, not just a marriage. He'd have to hold his very own kin within his arms one day, coddle and cradle it to sleep, teach it all he knew of being an archon. Tell them their only purpose of existence was for the betterment of their nation. They were born out of necessity, not need. 

"Well," Her voice tugged him out of his thoughts, aqua eyes flickering up to meet her own. "I have four maidens in mind... Perhaps we could bring back Ludi Harpastum for this? Four potential brides competing for their archons affections. The people of Mondstadt could use something to invest in, too. They all miss the festivals." 

That much was true–his people were trying to return to normal, act as how they were before, but such heavy loss couldn't help but devastate the nation. Festivals like Ludi Harpastum and Windblume had been cancelled the past years, only just starting to be talked about re-starting again among the Knights of Favonius. In fact, they'd even missed this year's Windblume. 

But Ludi Harpastum? It was about a month or so away, so maybe they could move the Harpastum forward? Have it prepared as usual, with the added addition of his whole wife hunting process in the background. They'd wed on the final day, the happy couple taking their first step into married life together.

It wasn't one of the worst ideas he'd ever heard.

In fact, he thinks it might've been one of the best.

To be fair, it was only really Isaroth who was rushing him to find a wife. If this whole festival thing happened, he had around fifteen or so days to actually know the woman before they were wed off. Was it the most ideal time frame? Absolutely not. Would he take that over literally anything else? In a heartbeat, yes. 

"I like it," The corners of his lips curve upwards, "In fact, I think it's great–But would the four be alright with actually marrying and having children with me? I.. I want to make sure they're comfortable, too."

Such a benevolent God. 

Viktoria sighs, crossing her legs, "Hm.. perhaps, but I can't be too sure. Why not offer a reward of sorts? A prize for their compliance."

A prize for their compliance. A reward for offering themselves up to be bred like cattle. 

What on earth have you gotten yourself into now, Barbatos.

"A reward." He repeats, sighing. What on earth would a mortal girl want as a thanks for her future?

Then it hits him.

"Aha, I've got it!–why don't I grant a wish? Anything they want.. Within reason, of course."

Although he couldn't make babies appear from thin air, he could grant wishes. Things such as never ending riches, hair that never thinned, eternal good luck, and so much more. As long as it wasn't anything too extreme, he could make it happen.

Viktoria seems to like this idea. Her smile slightly widens, nodding in agreement, "Perfect. I think that's a wonderful idea, My Lord. I know it would most definitely work on anyone, not just those four girls."

Mother Viktoria couldn't have been more correct. So correct, that a living breathing manifestation of how correct she was appeared.

 The door you were currently eavesdropping behind swung open, sending you toppling flat on your face. Your little wind spirit companion dropped too, a loud jingle filling the room as he smacked the ground.

Both Barbatos and Viktoria gasped, instantly turning toward you. 

"[Name]? What on earth are you doing?!" The poor woman looked as if she'd seen a ghost.

Well, this certainly wasn't good.

How could you possibly explain yourself now?

tag list is open!! ↴

@rainingcecilias

[uncleasad]

Since AO3 is (apparently) still blocking tumblr from creating link previews of AO3 pages (fics, chapters, users, etc), tonight I embarked on a fool’s errand 😂

Forgetting the fact that I’ve forgotten most of the Javascript I’ve ever learned, I spent, uh, too many hours creating a quick-and-dirty simple bookmarklet to halfway automate the manual creation of the link preview. (Quick-and-dirty because I’m certain there are edge cases I haven’t accounted for and which will break things.)

Add this bookmarklet to your browser.

Go to the AO3 page (fic/chapter/user/etc) you want a link preview for.

Run the bookmarklet, copy the resulting text from the popup window.

In the tumblr editor, switch to HTML mode.

Paste the copied text.

If there are no edge cases, you now have a link preview!

There are more detailed instructions on the page in Step 1.

This semi-technical, so not for everyone; hopefully AO3 will unblock tumblr soon 🤞

No warranty!

Edit 15 May 2025: Also, I keep forgetting that if you’ve locked your works to be visible only to logged-in AO3 accounts, then even when the tumblr link preview fetch is working, it will return an incorrect and useless result, so this bookmarklet will be useful in that case, too.

[merlyn-bane]

embedding images on ao3 (or at least how i do it)

step one - create a work skin

this is step is optional, technically, but it'll make for better viewing across different devices. go to your ao3 dash, and on the left menu (or the top menu if you're on mobile) you're going to click on 'skins'. click on 'my work skins', and then click on 'create work skin'. make sure that the type says work skin, and then put in a title. this is just for you, so it doesn't really matter what it is. then in the css box, you're going to copy and paste this exactly:

#workskin img {

max-width: 100%;

height: auto;

}

save it.

step two: host your image

you can't actually host images on ao3, and i don't recommend hosting them on tumblr either. you need a static link for the image and tumblr's are always subject to change. ive never been able to get drive to work for this either but that might just be user error, idk. when i need something hosted for ao3, i use dropbox personally. from here, the instructions are going to be with that in mind, other image hosters might be different.

upload your image and copy the permanent link.

step three: put your image in your wip

in your ao3 wip, scroll down to 'select work skin' and click on the skin that you made earlier

in the text editor itself, make sure that you have it set to rich text rather than html. place your cursor within the editor where you want the image to go and then click on insert/edit image. in the menu that comes up, you're going to paste your image link. if you're using dropbox to host, you have to change the dl=0 at the end of the link to raw=1. i'm not sure if this applies with other image hosters.

if you want to adjust the size of your image in this menu, make sure that the proportions are locked. there will be a little lock icon next to the width and height boxes. i usually size mine at around 750 to 800 on the longest/widest side but this piece is totally up to you. you can also click and drag the image size within the text editor itself, but if the image is very big this may be more difficult.

step four: profit

(for legal reasons this is a joke. thou shalt not profit from fanworks lest ip holders decide to get litigious)

[rottmnt-residuum]

Quick question how do you upload images to ao3? Asking because I want to make a comic and put it on ao3 but I dont know how to add images

(pasting this from answering it on ao3)

There are a couple of things you have to do first in order for an image to show up, because you can't upload to ao3 directly. First, you need to have the image you want in your fic to already be uploaded to a different site; Tumblr, Imgur, Twitter, Deviant art, or another site of your choice. After you've done that, there are two different ways to go about it. Personally, I do it via the html editor, as I find it easier (and I don't know how to do it via the rich text editor, never really tried it). To do it the way I do it, you need this code string: <.img src="" width="100%".> (remove the dots).

1. Paste it where you want the image to go and grab the link to the image you want. Be sure to click on the image itself, (depending on where you host it) so the link goes directly to the image when you copy said link.

2. Paste link in between the "". The code string should look like this: <.img src="image-link.pnj" width="100%".> (again, without the dots on either end. keep the dots in the link)

3. Preview chapter to see if the image is showing up, if it is, congrats! image in fic. If not, I do not know ccdsjbfjkds

4. Publish chapter when done 👍

[olderthannetfic]

Hey pls don’t mind my taste in fic but I’m wondering if you or your followers might know whether this italicization behavior is caused by an ao3 site skin issue or something else, and how to fix it? It’s pretty distracting especially in fics with a lot of formatting.

--

I suspect that's an error caused by copying and pasting into the rich text editor and is now enshrined in the actual html of the work on AO3.

Anyone know for sure?

[luciaintheskyainthi]

What size do you set your pictures to in ao3? I keep trying to add pictures but it never works 😫

Honestly I don't do anything special! I set the pictures to a maximum 600 pixels width though. When you add the picture through the rich text editor, you can specify the width. It should automatically adjust the length so the aspect ration doesn't go weird.

Alternatively, once you've added the image, you can click on the image and drag to resize.

If you switch back to the HTML editor, you'll see that it will have put the dimensions you've set it under the 'alt=' qualifier:

Alternatively, you can just add the link to the image, sans dimensions, however if it's a massive image you're adding, it'll be enormous on the fic too:

<img src="https://media.tenor.com/SPF-YWwTGcAAAAAM/bounty-django.gif" />

You also need to make sure it's the right link location, if that helps? So for instance if you're taking something from google, you need to select 'copy image address' not 'copy image'.

What I usually do is private post my images to Tumblr. No one can see them but me, but it means the images aren't going to suddenly disappear and ruin the embed.

Not sure if any of that was helpful! I hope it was but I promise I'm not doing anything groundbreaking with pictures haha.

[haveyoureadthisfanfic]

I’ve been informed that it’s weird that I format my fics entirely in HTML and don’t use the rich text editor, which is what I’ve been doing since I started posting fics on ao3 like 5 years ago. Do other people think that’s weird or is more common than my friends think?

I mean, whenever I put my works into ao3, I use HTML to format it. I don't think I was even fully aware the rich text editor was a thing lmao

[mrghostrat]

Hello there!! First off, I love your work- your creative voice is developed and your art style is delicious. V much an inspiration 😁

Anyway, I've been having trouble with embedding images in my fics, and since you write and draw I thought you might have some tips. I've exhausted Reddit and Ao3's FAQ has been no help. I'll take anything, html tips, better hosting sites for images, etc.

Thanks in advance!!

hiii thank you so much!! AO3 uses limited HTML, so for future referencing you can use any general html guide (w3school etc) to check how to write your code correctly.

this page is the most straightforward reference for embedding pics on ao3

since ao3 cannot host images, you need to upload your pic somewhere before embedding it. i use postimages.org

in the html editor, insert your image with the code:

<img src="URL GOES HERE">

SRC is the source of the image, aka the url. you can resize an image using WIDTH and/or HEIGHT. and if you want to get fancy, you can add hover text using TITLE and alt text with ALT. so, if you wanted to resize a square down to 100px, that would look like this:

<img src="URL" width="100">

you can also align your image as left, right, or centered on the page. just place your image within a <div> tag like so:

<div align="center"> <img src="URL"> </div>

[loving-jack-kelly]

one thing about me is that i hate the rich text editor on ao3 so much that i memorized basic HTML so i can just use that editor instead. one thing that means for my writing is that i instinctively use < i > < / i > instead of any other means of itallicising whenever I'm writing anything including emails and other things for work. sigh.