#i really would like concrit

[serenefig]

So I did a second part to the Wes is Question post (part 1 link), and I'm going to try to continue. I'm up for concrit if you have it, still new to writing for these fandoms.

Conspiracy of Silence

Part 1 | Part 2

Batman did not take the bait — Question’s reputation worked against him. That was fine. He’d managed this far by himself. He’d only ever had himself here. So Question slowly connected all the dots that built the Anti-Ecto Acts. The wall and string slowly building; always battling his paranoia, always trying to stay one step ahead of Cadmus and the GIW. Until finally the bait he had laid down oh so carefully caught someone. Someone Question did not know.

The Justice League Dark had convened in the Watchtower for the biannual “don’t fuck with the supernatural” safety presentation. Notepads were scattered, and conversations tapered out as the lights dimmed and Constantine stood ready to present — Question absently catalogued his scowl was deeper than normal, most likely due to being “voluntold” to present. Question silently sighed as he settled in for another boring safety presentation. It wasn’t anything he didn’t already know.

“Alright, I pulled presenter this round. I don’t want to be here anymore than you do, so let’s get this over with.” Constantine said. “This year is different. The JLD responded to a summoning incident three weeks ago. A group of presumed cultists were attempting to summon a high leven being from the Infinite Realms.” he stopped to glare at the gathered heroes. “Do not, under any circumstances, attempt to contact beings from the Infinite Realms. Treat them with traditional folklore fae rules. Actually no, you’ll still mess it up. Don’t even breathe in their direction.”

Someone cleared their throat and Constantine huffed.

“They scattered before anything could be done, leaving the summoning in the middle. And this brings us to my first point.” The slide turned and Question felt the blood drain from his face. There on the massive screen was evidence of the GIW.

It wasn’t outright obvious, but to Question, who knew what to look for? It was plain as day. He saw remnants of dismantled and broken ecto-weapons — likely left in their hurry to leave — scattered about on tables. On a wall he saw simplified Spector Deflectors, but to others would look like fancy belt buckles. And perhaps the most damning, a pair of high-tech looking manacles with a barely legible Cadmus logo mostly scratched out. He came to the only conclusion available; the GIW, and by extension Cadmus, were summoning ghosts directly to experiment on.

Question did not hear the rest of the presentation, he couldn’t. His hand flew across the notebook, jotting down as much information as he could glean from the photo. His mind was torn in two. To brave Amity and warn Phantom once more? Or turn his long gathered and unfinished evidence over to his co-heroes? Wes and Question warred at each other, adding to his already high paranoia. How much longer would it take for Phantom to be caught? What if a Parker was found?

His thoughts ground to a halt. Was it possible that Cadmus did find his liminality during his capture? Did they follow him?

Question barely recognised when the presentation came to an end; his body moving on auto-pilot towards his room. Still no decision was made.

He stopped in his tracks at this open door. Someone was in his room Someone was in his things. Question burst in, a taser at the ready, yet no one was there. He turned towards his hidden wall board, in hopes it was not found. And to his horror, his own face was plastered in the middle.

There was a mole in the Justice League. And Wes would find out who.

============

I do have a vague plan, but updates will be at the mercy of my ADHD because I have 7 other WIPs. This will go on AO3 and FFN next Tuesday as well (I'll reblog with a link.)

Tags because you expressed interest in the tags of the first

@profounddestinyrebel @stealingyourbones

[burinazar]

wondering how many more people in my circles i've accumulated enough Recommending-Things-To Credit to throw the hole show at them because i am dying for more sickos to show my things to

that 'write for an audience of thirty sickos' tweet is like aspirational to me because if i had that many (especially if a couple were like, Concrit-giving Sickos) i'd be really happy and not even slightly wish for a bigger audience. but it seems i can at most pull three-to-four sickos at a time and the prior sickos orbit away before new sickos come. Where Are My Thirty Sickos

[riosnecktattoo]

I love Jamie and Roy's relationship so much but it does surprise me that Roy is often randomly aggressive and physical with Jamie and it's never an issue that Jamie might respond badly given his abusive father

[eoinmcgonigal]

Btw if you enjoyed reading anything I've written, I'm *always* happy to get comments. No expiry date on this.

[bellamontwasright]

Ngl the no concrit shit got old in 2018 why am I still seeing it

[tenpintsof-sundrop]

I really really hate to be that person - especially because I know a lot of people are under the impression that fanfic authors are greedy and we should be grateful for any comments we get, even if those comments are full of unauthorized concrit, even if they're kind of rude, even if they're weirdly self-shaming (sometimes insinuating that people should feel bad over reading the dark or smutty content in the fics or that we should feel bad for writing it in the first place even though you're also reading it??).

But like, lately, I have been getting so many comments along the lines of "this fic should be longer!!" "I wish this was a series!!" "please turn this into a series!" "I would read endless sequels of this!!!" - today someone literally commented on one of my fics saying that it was a war crime that the fic was 30k instead of being 'a whole series'. And I totally understand the mindset that if something is good, you want more of it. If you enjoy something, you want more of it. But these comments are definitely not as flattering as people think they are.

When reading those comments - it doesn't always come off as a compliment. Most of my fics range from 5k to 30k on average, and they are usually oneshots or oneshots that I have split into multiple parts in order to be more readable - most of my longer, ongoing series are abandoned because I didn't have the steam to maintain them. (Most people don't know at all how hard it is to write a good, coherent, well-plotted 100k fic and actually keep up with it.) After I post the fic I have written later this week, I will have written over 400k this year alone, with my entire AO3 having over one million words split between 79 different fics.

So often, having people look at my fics and having their only comment be to 'write more' - feels like an insult. Because I do write more. I have written more. I write consistently. (It just sucks that people have almost nothing to say about what I have already written.)

Having people look at my fics - usually very long fics - and go "hey, this would be better if it was longer!!" or "hey, that was good, but the only productive thing I have to say about it is: make it longer" - it always feels very discouraging.

It doesn't make me want to rush to write more of that fic. In fact, most of the time, I actively avoid working on sequels to fics where the only comments are 'more please' because I know the only thing people will say about the sequel is 'when are you gonna make more?' - and oftentimes, I don't intend to make more.

I have said this in another post, but the ending to my fics are always intentional. I don't write fics with the mindset of turning them into a 100 part series. I write fics with the mindset of making them like a film or a short TV series - telling a capsule of a story with a very intentional beginning, middle, and end. And if I write a sequel, it's because I feel there is more to be told - but I will also cap off that sequel with a very intentional ending.

(Also, don't get me started on the complex of - if fics don't have the classic 'happy ending' people feel like every single thread needs to be resolved until it gets to a more classic happy ending, when I love writing intentional melancholic and thoughtful endings.)

Also - in general, I feel like people don't understand how much work goes into a fic. It might take you about 2 hours to read a fic that's 30k (and a lot of people who are avid readers probably read faster than that, reading it in an hour or less) - but concepting that fic, writing that fic, and meticulously editing that fic so that it can be readable and pleasant for people takes upwards of 20 hours of work. I would say realistically, upwards of 30 hours. And those are just working hours - hours sitting at the computer actively working. That doesn't include the time spent in between workshopping the ideas in my head while I am doing other mundane tasks in life.

It's very, very easy to consume a 30k oneshot in one sitting and then hold out your plate and go "more please!!" without putting any thought into how much work went into the original fic.

All of this just to say - please think about these things next time you are commenting on a fic (or even closing a fic without commenting at all), or doing something stupid like generating a fic with AI - which steals from everyday hard working fanfic writers. Fanfiction is hard work - it's a labour of love, and it shouldn't be about blind consumerism where you finish one and then rapidly start looking for the next one. You should appreciate each one like a good, hand pulled taffy instead of gobbling them all down like cheap candy mass made by factory machines.

Yeah - I think that's it.

-your local over worked (but still passionate) fanfic writer

[tossawary]

As I post about rereading SVSSS for lore and characterization, and about sometimes ignoring canonical details for the sake of whatever story I want to tell / explore in fanfiction for fun, I want to make it clear that I don't make these changes because I think it makes a "better story" or that I can write a "better story". I don't even like using the term "fix-it" for my canon divergence AUs that avert some in-universe tragedy, even if it is the "correct" fandom term in some cases, because I don't think that SVSSS is a story that needs to be "fixed".

(Honestly, a lot of my minor alterations to canon's details are because I can't remember what exactly canon is and can't always be bothered to hunt for one sentence (which I may or may not remember existing at all) across multiple volumes, especially when I don't always think strict faithfulness to canon is that crucial to the main concept of what I'm doing. I wrote PINTWILF and several other fics before the official English translations were fully released, when checking minor details was an even greater pain in the ass. Sometimes, I'm cooking without the recipe in front of me because I just want to eat.)

Like, I have criticisms of SVSSS, definitely. When I first started writing SVSSS fic, I was more frank about this (fond but less fond of the characters and world than I am now), and I've talked about things I wished the story expanded on more. I think it has flaws. I know those flaws are a dealbreaker for many people. But it's not my story. I can't tell MXTX's story better, because I believe that every author's story belongs to them and only they know what they're trying to achieve, even when I may personally think that the story might have been stronger if it had done something differently or I'm ignoring some minor detail specifically because I don't really like it.

It's awkward, sometimes, occasionally being told by someone that they enjoyed my fic more than the original story. It's very flattering (I can't pretend I don't have an ego) and I don't think anyone means any harm by this, people enjoy stories or don't for many different reasons (enjoyment is not necessarily an indication of quality and I think engaging with fandom can often be more fun than just reading a story on its own by yourself), but it is a little awkward, especially when SVSSS is not an English / western story. I have an advantage appealing to western readers. Reading a translation of the original story, I know there are details of SVSSS going over my heard, references I'm missing, nuances I don't recognize, even as I endeavor to keep learning. I personally enjoy some of my fics more than SVSSS itself because I associate them with good experiences and a lot of them appeal to me personally in some way or another (all of my favorite tropes! we all have favorite tropes!), but they are built on the back of someone else's original work on the other side of the world, and I want to be respectful of that.

I don't want to compete or fix. I'm not trying to compete or fix, I think I would fuck it up if anyone seriously set that task on me, and I don't think that's a good way to view anything. I want to explore and appreciate. I'll type up a lengthy post at some point as to why I'm generally not interested in concrit on my fics (honestly, mostly it's because I'm not interested in being told that a reader hates the present tense and wishes I would rewrite the entire story, which has happened to me before), but I hope that doesn't come off as disinterest in the original story or its cultural context, or as me thinking even a little bit that any of my stories are flawless and/or better than the original.

I want to make a "why would you put two bad bitches (compliment) against each other like this?" joke here, but I also want to be clear: I think MXTX is by far the badder bitch (compliment) in this situation.

(Turning off reblogs, btw, because this post skews more on the personal side.)

[nientedal]

On Constructive Criticism.

Hey friends. You ever want to leave a critique on a fic, and the author says they like constructive criticism/"concrit," but then you leave your critique and you try to make it complimentary but the author still seems less than thrilled with you? You may have missed the point of "constructive!" Don't feel bad, you aren't alone. Took me until I started writing and receiving feedback to really figure it out.

The key to remember is, "constructive" doesn't mean "nice." It doesn't mean phrasing gently, or doing a compliment sandwich (although those are fine things to do as well). "Constructive" feedback is feedback that would make the story as the author has already written it stronger.

"The execution of this character's decision to do XYZ felt a little bit out of nowhere, to me. Was that your intent? It didn't seem like it was meant to be a big twist, either. Maybe some extra foreshadowing would make it stronger, or some shock on the part of the other characters." THAT'S constructive criticism.

This is NOT constructive criticism: "This character doing XYZ thing really doesn't make for as strong a story as it could. I think he should have done NQD thing, instead. That would have been better."

The first example offers some ideas on how to help a character's decision land better when the reader couldn't tell what the author's intent was. It's possible the reader didn't like the decision and that's why they noticed - maybe some foreshadowing would have helped them accept it better, or some indication that it was meant to be shocking would have validated the reader's surprise & displeasure. But, crucially, the reader did not suggest anything that would require a massive rewrite. Some tweaking, sure, maybe the addition of a few paragraphs. But not a change to the character's decision as a whole, the way the second example suggested. The second example does describe something the reader thinks would make for a stronger story...but it is not something that would make THIS story stronger. It is describing a different story than the one the author has already written so far, so it's just plain ol' criticism. Constructive criticism makes the existing story stronger.

That's the difference. You aren't workshopping. You are commenting on something that is already being written, that is already planned to the point where someone is already posting it. There is a BIG DIFFERENCE between workshopping a story and simply giving concrit! Unless the author has specifically asked for workshop-style help, offering things to do differently from what was already written is worse than useless. Don't.

Rule of thumb: if what you're saying can be boiled down to "I think this cake would be better if it was pie," say something else. The cake is not pie. It's not GOING to be pie. I didn't ask what you think I should bake, I put cake on the table and asked what you thought of this cake. Tell me what would make THIS cake better. Not the pie you were thinking of, and not a different cake you might have liked better. THIS CAKE.

[momo-t-daye]

Despite being half-baked, this idea has been running around in my head

So, yes, Legilimency needs eye contact and so forth, but I’ve got a soft spot for a Legilimens!Severus Snape and I’m happy to bend magical rules for the sake of silliness. (Alright, I’ve got quite a fondness for Legilimens Eileen Prince, who taught her classmate Tom Riddle a thing or two before, inadvertently, discovering that he knew more about mind magics than he let on and there was quite a dreadful mind under that handsome smiling face.  I imagine she left the magical world for more than one reason, but she stayed away so long because she knew that Tom knew that she knew that…)

Well then, although Legilimency is “reading” and Occlumency is “hiding” and those two things are put in opposition, they aren’t exactly two sides of the same coin, are they (or maybe this conceptual coin might have more than two sides)? There is reading another’s self-story and trying to hide one’s self, might there not be a broadcasting of one’s self, a leakage of one’s internal subjective reality into the minds of others? Couldn’t the opposite of Occlumency be like the psychic equivalent of playing a short-form video in public without headphones or driving around in one of those cars with the speakers on the outside that make windows rattle and what not? Maybe it doesn’t have a fancy name like, I suppose, “Narratamency” or “Fabulamency” or some other butchering of Latin.  Maybe it gets called “charisma” or “a charming manner” or “magnetic personality” (or “a lot of personality”) or something else indirect and more polite than “you are imposing your subjective reality into other people’s subjective realities”.  Maybe it’s considered too Dark to be given a name and any study at all (in such a small society in which reputation and connections and the old school tie matter so much for success, in which asking an older student to do a favor like sticking one’s name in a Goblet is apparently so outlandish that they didn’t bother making some sort of protection against that event, imposing one’s mental concept of the world over someone else’s self-world would really be beyond the pale), maybe it is the foundational practice from which spells like Imperius and Oblivate (which ought to be an Unforgivable, if only it wasn’t so useful for muggle-control) derive. Then you get to having folks who go around with their personal self-story leaking out of them and nudging others into playing supporting roles, getting called “charismatic” or “charming” or “has great leadership potential” etc., Tom Riddles, Gilderoy Lockharts, James Potters, and so forth.  Sure, you could take this in a dark and angsty direction, but I like to think that I am rather silly. 

And so, as a point to this rambling, a James Potter who has an internal narration that projects like an opera singer enjoying the echos off the Grand Canyon, who constantly tells himself the story of “boy-hero James Potter, who always saves the day and gets the girl and is the coolest bloke on the block” would be the terror and nemesis of any Legilimens within a hundred miles.  Legilimens!Severus Snape (who would appreciate a two hundred mile buffer between himself and James Potter) has suffered greatly, has gotten James Potter’s stupid little theme song stuck in his head day after day, has decided that putting his two cents in is worth it even though he’s broke.

James Potter, for his part, does not appreciate the unsolicited concrit on his daydreams.

[noramoons]

renounced | x.dj

summary: your life as the eldest child in the royal family is simple: follow everything you’ve been told, without complaint. the game is easy—until you meet xiao dejun, who shows you that you may not have to play their game at all.

pairing: prince!xiaojun x gender neutral!royal reader

genre: angst with a happy ending (?)

wc: 4k

rating: T/15+

warnings: unspecified time period, historical inaccuracies, brief mention of religious analogies, implied suggestive content, language, not proofread (😧)

a/n: happy xiaojun day! :D (me, finishing a fic on time?? 🤯🤯) hope u enjoy this little one-shot. i’m sure there are MAJOR historical inaccuracies for the politics depictions in this - feel free to leave any feedback or concrit you might have!

This is the last time.

It's like a mantra. You repeat it to yourself, over and over, starting the sentence over with every other stairstep you reach.

This is the last time. It has to be.

Of course, you said that the last time, too.

Prince Dejun has been a fixture in your life for nearly as long as you can remember. And for a long time—you hated remembering.

His family's kingdom had brought yours to the brink of annihilation in war—a long, terrible, stupid war that your nation had been comically unprepared for. The Xiao family had industrialized their military years before your father's generals even began to think about the idea, studying and honing in their technological advances to the point that when they finally brought their army to your doorstep, your father had no choice but to kneel. Can it really be called war if the other side never even stands a chance?

You had hated Xiao Dejun, then. Hated the very idea of him and his entire family. Hated that they had been so generous as to allow your family to stay in their palace for a month while yours was being rebuilt, him and his brothers running through the halls with gleeful abandon while you and your younger siblings had to restrain yourselves at all times. You always had to be poised and patient, silent unless spoken to—the perfect guests for who you saw as little more than your captors.

It was several years later before your father's advisors began whispering again, hushed murmurs that gradually tumbled their way down to your eavesdropping ears—not of war this time, but of the future. Of building future alliances with the very nation that had nearly decimated your home.

And you, as the eldest child, were the perfect sacrificial lamb.

You had felt just as much, too, the night of your first outing with the prince. You would be supervised, of course, but you still found yourself unable to shake the feeling as the servants dressed you quietly, whispering to each other when they thought you couldn't hear. Like they were preparing a stuffed pig for a feast.

You'd dreaded every step down the main stairwell of your newly rebuilt home, clinging to the marble railing that you were sure was just as cold and unforgiving as the prince waiting for you at the bottom of the stairs (Completely unlike the way you are currently racing up a flight of stairs, heart growing lighter with each step).

You had been surprised, then, when Dejun had taken your gloved hand in his—it turned out he was warm flesh and blood, after all.

He'd engaged in perfectly polite, yet expected small talk all throughout the main entryway and into the gate outside. It wasn't until you reached that first step outside, the furthest you'd been away from home in months, that he had squeezed your hand and dropped his voice into an octave that sounded much more familiar to the Dejun you had seen briefly in his home.

"Do you trust me?"

You were taken aback by the question—but you certainly weren't a liar. "No."

He'd laughed at that—a light, airy sound escaping past his lips that you thought had no right to come from a devil. "I thought as much. I would've been surprised if you'd said so." Something glinted in his eyes. "Can you give me a chance to change your mind?"

What on Earth was he talking about? The two of you were only supposed to wander the gardens until dusk—that was what your governess had said. "Why would I do that?"

A grin tugged at the corners of his mouth—you thought, for an absentminded moment, how seemingly perfect his teeth were. What a strange thing to notice. "Because it'll get us away from the eyes of your governess." 

Your own eyes widened. "What are you talking about? I—" I hadn't even noticed she was out here, you'd wanted to say. You had spun around, looking intently for somewhere she must have been hiding—she couldn't have been that inconspicuous if Dejun had noticed her already.

He'd squeezed your hand again, warm fingers still intertwined with yours. "I spoke with the stablehand before coming to call on you. He said he would leave a horse tied just outside the gates." He paused. "It's up to you, of course. Your Highness." He dropped your hand only to cross it across his chest in a mock serene bow, and you had bit onto your own tongue, hard, to keep a laugh from escaping you at the sight.

You had tried to weigh the consequences in your mind, but the thought of freedom was just as alluring as it always had been under the watchful eye of seemingly everyone else in the palace you'd grown up with. Even if it came with a price of momentary companionship with Xiao Dejun.

"We..." you had started. "We have to be back by sunset. No later."

He had grinned and taken your hand, running with you close behind, helping you mount the horse when you did, in fact, find one tied just outside the palace gates—and giving you the first taste, if only for an hour, of what real freedom might feel like.

You were chased down by your governess and a slightly bruised stablehand before the sun had even begun to set, but you and Dejun had talked, lying on your backs in an empty field miles away from the palace, for what felt like hours. It was then that you learned he cared practically nothing for politics, that he had no plans to be king the way his father had ruled. You discovered, through a series of conversations, that he wanted so much more for his life—to not be tied to something he hadn't chosen for himself. You'd never forget for the rest of your life how his eyes shone that evening, how they sparkled as he listened to you, and how he talked about the life he wanted with such excitement. He wanted to learn how to walk across a trapeze, or become a traveling musician, to sail across the world with a band of pirates—he wanted to at least have options. To be able to choose something for himself, something that was only his.

That glass facade you had built in your head of him shattered. He was so, so much like you, in every way you had never imagined.

Your governess gave you an earful when you were dragged back to the palace that night, but you could barely find it in yourself to care. Dejun had planted a dangerous seed in your brain—the idea of getting to choose.

While your father wasn't entirely pleased with the events of your first outing with Prince Dejun, his advisors still believed it would be a beneficial match for the future of the kingdom—so you were allowed to continue your courtship with the prince.

With every meeting, you found your affection for the worldview he had given you growing. You were allowed to let yourself want for the first time. You wanted the ability to choose what you did with your life. You wanted to see what the rest of the world looked like outside of your room in the palace.

You wanted Dejun. And he wanted you, too.

But perhaps that grasp of freedom was something you didn't deserve. After all—at the end of the day, there wasn't truly any aspect of your life's path that you chose yourself. Even the idea of freedom was ludicrous. Everything was preordained for your life by the same gods (who you had been told since birth) that had put your father on the throne—to say or do otherwise was simply unthinkable. Heresy. A refusal of everything you had been put on this planet to do.

It had clearly been too long since you had any reminders of that fact—and so your father's advisors, moods changing like the tides of the ocean, provided you with one.

Your kingdom and the Xiaos found themselves in a trade standoff—the Xiao kingdom had the grain your kingdom so desperately needed after his soldiers had burned your farmlands down to the soil, but your father's advisors refused to pay what the Xiaos were demanding. They could get grain and cattle at a much lower price from the Qian kingdom to the south—not nearly as militarily advanced as the Xiaos, but a longtime ally of your father's, and a royal family with a son your age.

One too many insults were exchanged between families over tense negotiations—and so your courtship with Dejun was called off. Replaced with a hurried engagement to the prince of the Qian family, a man you'd never met.

And yet—you couldn't burn the roots of what Dejun had planted in you. Now more than ever, you wanted that freedom Dejun had promised you. You wanted the ability to lash out about this choice made for you, to scream at your uncaring father who only saw you as a political pawn to be used for the betterment of the nation.

But what could you do? You had been raised in a calculating way—everything you did was politics. Every choice you made was a stepping stone for your future—and not just yours. The future of your family, your lineage, your nation rested on your shoulders as the next in line for the throne. Who were you to just cast that aside? Run away with nothing but the hope Dejun would follow you? Would he follow you?

There was still a positive outcome, albeit a small one—you learned that while your relationship with Dejun had been broken for you, your kingdom's alliance with the Xiao family was not entirely lost. It was damaged enough to not want your families permanently intertwined, but not enough to go to war again—or more importantly to your circumstance, not damaged enough that their invitations to your family's yearly galas with the surrounding kingdoms had been rescinded.

A full year passed by the time your family hosted another gala, and it took all the self restraint you had mustered within you to not rush across the ballroom and hold him impossibly close to you when you finally, finally locked your gaze onto Dejun again for the first time in a year. You saw the way his eyes lit up when he saw you from the top of the staircase—the same way you had seen them shine all those years ago, when he had first introduced that damned idea of freedom into your stupidly impressionable mind. You wondered if anyone else in the ballroom could hear how loud your heart was pounding.

It took almost the entire evening, dancing with several other princes and high-ranking officials (the ones your advisors had informed you to charm for potential future alliances) before you were finally able to drag Dejun out of the ballroom, unnoticed, and into a nearby corridor.

You stared at each other for a moment. Then two.

Dejun whispered your name, as if saying it too loud would shatter the moment you've given him.

"I've missed you," you said. Ever the careful, political one—you'd ached with how much your mind and soul had missed Dejun, but you couldn't tell him that. What if he didn't feel the same? What if he didn't want to be seen with you, now that you were engaged to someone else? What if—

He leaned across, cupping your cheek in one hand and pressing his lips to yours in one singular, fluid motion.

Once again—Dejun had presented you with an opportunity you hadn't even thought of yourself. You had seen a door at the end of a hallway and thought it to be the only exit—and Dejun had shown you how to escape through a window.

The next two years of galas were the same—on one night a year, you'd entertain guests for hours, dancing until your feet were sore and mind swirling as you tried to remember everyone's name and affiliation and rank. None of it mattered once everyone retired to their guest suites, preparing for a long day of travel tomorrow, and you were free to slip away and spend the long hours of the night, unnoticed, with Dejun.

Each time, you heard a rock at your window as you were preparing for bed, and each time, you knew what it meant. You'd look outside to see a shining pair of eyes in the darkness, holding a single candle and beckoning you to follow. You'd end the evening as far away from the palace as you could get, tangled in Dejun's limbs underneath the moonlight, the two of you only pulling your cloaks back on and hurrying back in giggles when the first rays of morning sunlight were beginning to rise.

It's what you're doing now—heart racing as you ascend the final stair and make your way to the balcony before you. But this time will be different, you know. It has to be.

You're getting married next month to Prince Kun. You should have cut this tryst off before it even began—you know it will only continue to cause you and Dejun both heartache and suffering. And from what you hear, his own father's advisors have been hard at work finding an engagement for Dejun. It won't be long before you're both encumbered with marital duties.

All of this is at the tip of your tongue to tell him—and then he turns around from the balcony railing.

The moon frames his dark hair like a halo, a soft smile tugging at his lips as he sees you walking towards him—and oh, gods, how could you ever tell him anything of the sort? When he's running a soft hand through your hair and he's pulling your lips to his, when you're closing your eyes against him and letting him glide a hand down to the small of your back and press his chest to yours—when you're tasting freedom on his lips, how could you ever take that away? 

But the thought still haunts you when you're lying on your back beside him, miles away from the palace and watching the stars glitter in the sky above you. You know why neither of you have discussed the fact that you're engaged to Kun, that you'll be living in a palace in an entirely different kingdom after next month. Admitting that you need to have a discussion, after all, feels like admitting that this has to end.

Dejun stirs beside you—you had thought he was asleep. You turn on your side to look at him.

He smiles when he sees your face, and you can't fight a smile from tugging at your own lips. How can you give this up? "This is it," he says, suddenly, and you feel your stomach lurch—of course he'd be the one to acknowledge this. "Isn't it?"

"What do you mean?" you say, quietly—but the quiver in your voice betrays that you know his meaning all too well.

Dejun reaches across and intertwines his fingers with yours, bringing your connected hands up to his lips as he kisses each fingertip. "Did you want to never discuss it? To lie with me here, and then never see me again?"

You frown. "Of course not. But I don't exactly know how—"

"Run away with me," he says suddenly. "They'll never find us. We can go to the ends of the earth."

You laugh at how abrupt he is. "They'd find us, Dejun. Your father owns the greatest military in the world, and my father has spies on every inch of this continent. We'd never make it across either border."

He's insistent. "We have to try. I told you, all those years ago, that I want to be able to choose something for my life, something that's only mine. It's you, Y/N. I don't care where we are or what we're doing—I can't stand to be apart from you anymore."

His words strike your heart like daggers, but you still shake your head slowly—grabbing the hilt and driving the daggers in further yourself. "It's too late. Don't you see? It's not just my family that's depending on my choices now—the Qians are too. I can't turn my back on this anymore by just running away."

"And who decides that?" He shoots back. "None of this has been up to you. Don't you think you deserve a chance to choose a life for yourself?"

You don't know why it's never occurred to you before. It's a fantasy—all of this. Ever since the moment your courtship with Dejun was called off years ago, you've been in a child's delusion. The real world calls now, with all of its accompanying rules and responsibilities—you have no place allowing yourself to stay in this illusion anymore. There has to be another universe, a different life where the two of you were smart enough to never do anything this stupid, but it isn't this one. There's no substance to you and Dejun. "And in that life, I would do what? Continue to be a once-a-year tryst to you? Do you..." You take a sharp breath. "Do you love me, Dejun?"

He looks like you've stung him with your words—maybe you have. "You know how I feel about you, Y/N, I—"

"Can you say it?" Part of you is screaming internally for giving him an ultimatum like this, for probably ripping away the only respite you've ever had from your life in a cage—but you know that if you don't do it, it'll be done for you. Just like everything else.

"I..." he trails off, and you find yourself utterly afraid for what he might have said—because it might have convinced you.

And then he inhales again. Clenches his jaw. "Goodnight, Y/N."

Your heart sinks, but you swallow down the self-induced disappointment. "Goodnight, Dejun."

You don't think either of you sleep much that night. You watch the sun rise on the horizon hours later—beautiful, cheerful shades of pinks and oranges that are a perfect contrast to the knots of worry you can feel brewing in your stomach.

As you and Dejun hurry back (in silence) to the south side of the palace, you begin to slow at the gate behind the gardens. In the past, you've always stopped here to say your goodbyes before heading back into the palace on your own separate ways, as to not arouse suspicion.

Dejun never stops. He never even begins to slow down his walking pace. Instead, you watch him walk past you, through the gardens and into the side door into the scullery—and now you really can't shake this feeling that you've made a massive, unchangeable mistake.

You remember how much you once hated him—how to even hear the name Xiao Dejun made your stomach twist. Now, you think, you'd give anything to hear his name announced in the same room as you. And it may never happen again.

The month that follows your engagement with Qian Kun goes by in a blur. The wedding preparations, the attire, the food for the guests—it's all chosen for you, anyway, so why should you care? You silently mourn the loss of all things good and routine in your life that you'd come to cherish before—including Dejun.

The wedding itself is a different experience—mostly because you don't feel like you're even really there. Everything is just as you had rehearsed the day before; your father walks you down the aisle in full royal regalia. You stand beside Kun and recite your perfectly memorized vows. You touch your lips to his.

It’s a game, all of it—and you’ve been told every move to play.

You don't eat much at the reception, and your new husband seems to notice. He asks if you're not feeling well, if you need to leave early—and as much as you know you need to stay to keep up appearances, to maintain the alliances your father's advisors have so carefully crafted for you with this marriage—you can't help but nod yes.

Kun is too kind for his own good, you think. He briefly shows you around the royal wing of your new home, where you'll presumably be staying for the rest of your life, before opening the door to the bedroom at the end of the corridor. You expect him to follow you inside, so you're surprised when he moves to open the door again to leave.

He turns around, a small smile of understanding on his mouth. "I'll see you in the morning, Your Highness. When you're feeling better." He hesitates for only a brief moment before adding, "You don't have to keep up appearances around me. I hope you know that."

You don't know that, in all honesty—but you smile and nod gratefully anyway.

You let yourself sit in the silence of your room for a long while, comfortable with it in contrast to the loud reception you can still hear ongoing downstairs. You think about calling for help on undressing out of your royal wedding attire, but the thought of being alone is still far more appealing, even if it takes you an hour to get out of all these layers.

You've only undone two buttons when you hear a thump on the floor, right below the open window. It's a rock, you realize in disbelief as you bend down to take a closer look. You hold it under the candlelight, and you finally recognize the familiar scrawled ink across the surface.

I love you.

You lean over the window, heart pounding so loud you can hear it rushing in your ears—and you see him. He hasn't even dismounted from the horse he must have ridden to the castle on, one hand still clutching the reins, other hand waving in the air to catch your attention.

Dejun's face lights up when he sees you, and you suddenly feel that same lightness in your chest the instant you see it. Like you'd never even left his side.

You grab the candle on your nightstand and bring it by the window to see him better, and it's then that you begin to hear what he's been saying—not yelling, thankfully, to ensure any wedding goers won't hear. But you don't even think you'd mind now, as you lean further out of the window and finally hear it from his own lips.

I love you.

You think about what he said only a month ago, an echo of the things he'd said to you when you were younger. That you deserve to choose.

You think that while there is a lifetime where you were smart enough to never do anything this stupid, there must also be another where you are brave enough to run away—to be in love, to choose with your own mind to leave behind everything you've known for each other. For something that you both know would last.

Maybe there's a part of you that thinks that lifetime can be this one—that they're one and the same. That some part of you still longs to be that foolish, and that brave.

You cup your hands around your mouth and call down to him—your answer to tonight's unspoken question.

I love you too.

a/n: feedback is always welcome through reblogs, comments, and messages 💛 thank you sm for reading!

taglist: @petrichor-han @kangroo-chan @ot7lonelylover @lilacdreams-00 @mainexiii @awkwardnesshabitat @lotus-dly @elizabeth11moreno @nerdysl-t @seung-scrittore

[pinktom]

another day, another hater: LS comments edition

You ever get a batshit review on your fic where someone writes an AU of your story and proceeds to tell you they're annoyed you didn't write it how they would've? 💀

[I wouldn't normally share this on tumblr but there's real comedic value in the review, where they speculate how much cooler their Marauders AU would be.]

highlight of this truly unhinged review has got to be:

"Is it just that in tomarryLand, there can only be one (Tom Darko) very smart and deep individual, counterpart to naive/pure/cute, oblivious!trope himbo harry (slightly emo bc mean parents uwu) for the dynamic to hit the right buttons? With background characters all some variation of braindead normies who can never understand them, thus deverving only contempt? Hopefully not."

They read my fic where Tom is a panty-sniffing stalker dweeb who is broadly and thoroughly ridiculed by the entire world and concluded I'm trying to make him a "very smart and deep individual." I fear for our future if this is what passes as smart and deep. 😔 

On a more serious note, if you're going to give unasked for concrit, you've gotta have the courage of your convictions—you've got to read the fic in its entirety. Otherwise, simply DNF and withhold your opinion.

If someone who only read my story halfway is going to tell me stuff like —

"Having reached the end of the chapter, I can see now it's going in the 3edgy5you direction I was fearing with this pair."

and

"I’m assuming all character except Daddy Tom Sr. for which this fic obviously simps will be shown as various shades of stupid and stop now."

— I cannot imagine they really expect me to care; I can only assume they're trying to hurt my feelings, because I didn't write the fic how they would wanted it to go. This isn't criticism or helpful feedback: It is entitlement.

They told me a number of unkind things, based on assumptions that are actually quite false. I do not see these characters as stupid nor do I treat them with contempt. I love ordinary people; I love life itself.

"James is obviously set up as an obstacle!plotpoint poorly disguised as a character"

I actually do not see him that way. He is one of four characters who are the heart of the story, and I love him as much as I love Tom Sr. in the story. And also the story is not going anywhere in the direction this anon implies, which makes them not only look entitled but embarrassingly presumptuous.

While cowardly, I understand why they're on anon. Even they know they're just whining at me for having the audacity to tell the story I wanted to tell, and not the story they wanted to read.

[not-poignant]

Out of curiosity, when did the, 'fanfic doesn't need to adhere to canon, everything is valid and good, don't give concrit unless specifically asked for' attitude become the norm? Genuine question.

I was active in fandom back in the LJ days, when sporkings and comms viciously mocking Mary Sues were the norm, but then I sort fell out of fandom spaces for the past (checks notes) fifteen years holy shit. The current attitude seems diametrically opposed to what I remember fandom being like (kinda shitty, it was 'cool' to be an asshole back then), and I'm just curious as to when and how the shift happened. I mean, I assume it was a gradual thing, but is there anything in particular that stick out to you?

(Also, because tone doesn't convey very well through ask, and I don't want to leave you with a poor impression-- this is by no means a defence of the 2000s attitudes, nor an aspersion on the current ones. I'm genuinely only curious about the evolution from one to the other; I hope that comes across.)

Hi anon!

TL;DR because my response got LONG -> Anon this existed before Livejournal as an attitude, in fact modern fandom was literally born out of being not canon compliant (*waves aggressively to Spirk shippers*) and this existed on Livejorunal too and there have always been big pockets of fandom that really frowned on sporking even there, like that was not cool when I was on LJ, unless you were a certain age, or in certain spaces in fandom.

But also AO3 was its kind of final death knell re: making it cool to bully 13-16 yo writers (who were largely the victims of sporking) and killing dreams, which was born out of meta happening on LJ and in other places about like... not trying to make people miserable for writing a free fic out of the love in their heart that someone else didn't like or think was good enough.

Anyway, the longer version of this under the read more!

(For everyone else, welcome to some of the uglier aspects of 00s fandom!)

So there was actually criticism around all the stuff you mention 15-20 years ago as well. I was also on Livejournal during that time and there was a pretty big proportion of people in certain fandoms who recognised even then that like... setting up communities to mock say, Mary Sue writers, was actually a pretty weirdly cruel thing to do to people who were providing free labour and the literal only 'payment' they could get in a kind of energy exchange was people just not being complete dickheads to them.

So things were already changing, especially in many LJ communities and awards communities. There were a lot of big debates over whether concrit should be asked for, and a growing movement of authors who said they welcomed constructive criticism for example, instead of assuming it should automatically apply. There was also a lot of meta around the function of fanfiction and whether it should even be 'good' by published standards if the author was just doing it for themselves, and for fun (esp if they were just going to get punished for it by folks who were elitist, judgemental, grammar purists etc.)

Things really changed around the time of AO3 (2009-2010 - literally around 14~ years ago, you may have just missed the big change anon!), Strikethrough and the Dreamwidth exodus. There was a massive swing away from leaving concrit unless the author specifically asked for it, and fandom became a lot more generally able to recognise that a lot of labour goes into fanart and fanfiction and that paying with public criticism is shitty actually. Also people were just more able to recognise that like most fanfiction writers aren't trying to become professional writers and many don't want to be.

(I would actually say things changed around the time of fanfiction.net too - rude comments there were definitely noticed and could create some pretty forward 'hey why are you doing this on something you literally don't have to read' responses from fellow readers - idk what fic sites you were on. The small indie fic sites where you could often only comment via email for example, definitely drew a lot more critical attention than sites that tended to have public comments).

The 'fanfic doesn't need to adhere to canon' literally exists since the very first Spirk slash fic in modern fanfiction in the last few decades. Literally, as soon as you write Kirk/Spock, you're not adhering to canon. Our fanfiction 'ancestors' literally paved the way for a legacy which is about not adhering to canon in order to see the world/s and thing/s you want to see, be entertained by, by turned on by, or enjoy, from the very beginning. You may not have been in slash circles anon, but the foundation of queer same sex fanfic is in many ways the foundation of fandom. But yeah, this is literally where fanfiction started! As soon as you're shipping characters that aren't canon for fun (or for whatever reason), you're making it pretty clear that you want stories different to canon, and you have to change things to often keep those characters in-character.

So yeah! That's been there for decades. Idk what circles you were in on that front! While it was fairly common for a while to criticise characters for being OOC (Out of Character), imho, a lot of folks started to recognise that they literally weren't paying for what they were criticising, and they could just walk away and potentially not like...blast the fanfic. Some folks started to recognise more that people were writing with ESL, or were teenagers (some 40 yos in fandom realised they were mocking literal 15 year olds in their proto-podcasts and websites and realised actually that's just...mean? Really mean? Not the way to nurture new generations of fanfiction writers. Definitely in no way encouraging), or were writing for themselves, or writing for like one other person, or writing for fun, or writing for free, or writing for personal reasons etc.

'Don't Like Don't Read' wasn't just about political stuff, it was also about just walking away if you feel the urge to slam a fanfic in the comments.

I've been in fandom for around 2.5 decades anon, and there were so many spaces that were not actually as shitty or mean-spirited as the ones you were in? Or ones that at least had a lot of different thoughts etc. Like, sporking (mocking/bullying badfics and sometimes the folks who wrote them) was disapproved of by a lot of people in fandom even while sporking was at the height of its popularity (the Fanlore page goes into more detail about this). It might have just been the fandoms you were in, or the people you were hanging out with (and that might have been dependent on your age or just if you were around people who wanted to be 'cool' back then - in the same way that being an 'anti' is cool among certain crowds today. It's possible to spend years in certain crowds and never get an image of broader fandom for example - we can all end up in spaces like that! I know I have.)

When I started writing fanfiction (which no one will EVER find lmao), generally giving positive comments was normal. Constructive criticism was actually pretty rare and there were already fanfiction aggregate sites that generally disapproved of it in their Rules of Conduct. People were encouraging and polite. And this was around 20 years ago on Livejournal and private indie fanfiction websites.

I would actually say there was never exactly an evolution from 'one to the other' because like thousands of people in fandom already believed this and argued in defense of supporting fanfiction and transformative works via accepting that people are labouring for free and that not everyone wants to become a 'better writer' etc. - the meta was there on Livejournal in the 00s. There were communities where sporking was seen as hip/fun, and communities where it was literally banned or at the very least, super frowned upon.

There were meta fandom communities where sporking was the subject of discussion and you know eventually in a lot of those meta communities, that's where a lot of folks decided actually that calling out the fanfiction of 16 yos as 'cringe' or 'badly done' maybe said more about us as human beings and what we wanted fandom to be, than it did about the actual fanfic itself. By the time AO3 came around, people built it with this in mind.

To this day on AO3 it's mostly considered appropriate to say you want concrit in your author's notes, and to otherwise assume as a reader it's never welcome if it's unsolicited. That started during the LJ era. And it was talked about at great length. There's obviously going to be people who disagree! But for the most part I'm a big believer in compassion and 'not everyone is here for the same reason' and 'they literally gave this to us for free and it's meant to be fun' (like yourself! What we do/think/argue 10 years ago on LJ is sometimes different to what we do 10 years later lol, I used to be against trigger warnings pre-AO3! Times change a lot :D )

So yeah, this was definitely something that was around before you and I came to fandom, and it was something that continued to grow as an attitude during, until finally it kind of won out on AO3. But yeah fandom as we know it was born in people literally not being canon compliant to make some gay dreams come true (Spirk shippers bless them all), at a time when there was no representation.

Even in the earliest days of fandom where comments could only happen via email, one of the earliest phrases authors used were things like 'flames will be used to roast marshmallows.' For those reading who don't know, flames are hate comments, critical 'this fic is bad because' comments etc. Except you emailed them directly to the author, because there was no place for comments on a fic.

And this started because authors in part got death threats for writing gay stuff.

So you know, from the very beginning, authors in fanfic have by and large had a very low tolerance for criticism / hate over something they're doing for free and making no profit out of, when they're changing/altering the canon as they please to create representation (or hotness lmao), that is literally a labour of love in a world of very little representation. From there, things have just grown. The whole 'flames will not be tolerated' existed even before Livejournal did.

Honestly there are still people who love sporking and you could probably find groups and Discords dedicated to that even now (actually you literally can, there's a Dreamwidth group for it), it's kind of wild but it started to get cool again. Just like 90s clothing :D (Which is also wild because I can just take that crap out of my closet and wear it again).

But yeah it also sounds like you may have been in some pretty crappy pockets of fandom! When I was on LJ in the 00s I avoided those places and still got to experience fandom across multiple fandoms (mostly NCIS, Captive Prince, HP, Profiler, The X-Files and some others) and communities.

I was super active in some fandom communities and saw a lot of meta happening, and my view during the early and late 00s was that sporking was largely pretty frowned upon after a very brief (like 3-6 month) era where it was cool for only some folks, and then everyone (including some - but not all - of those folks) was like 'heyyyyyyy hang on a minute.' It was something that the bullies did, and enjoyed, and otherwise folks kind of stayed away from it, especially once they learned people were becoming too scared to write fics, which is the inevitable outcome of mocking/bullying folks and fics that have been made purely out of love for something.

Like, publicly making a spectacle out of what a 13 yo (they were often teens - and it's kind of sad how many 40 yo women were doing the sporking :/ ) wrote out of love, just for fun/clout was not considered cool by everyone even back then, because like, a lot of us saw that as killing new generations of fandom (some folks who sporked considered it a win if a fic or account got deleted, this is not based behaviour), not actually creating good writing, internalised misogyny (Mary Sue hatred and self insert hatred), etc. It's hard to explain because I do really think we were in different corners of fandom at the time, but I don't know anyone personally from my time on Livejournal who actually liked sporking as an idea or enjoyed it or enjoyed listening to it or reading articles mocking fic.

I knew about it from very lively 'is this okay' 'actually no it's not even if it's just for fun this is trying to hurt people and saying 'it's just the fic' is not going to be the bandaid a teenager needs to understand why older folks (generally) in fandom are mocking them for being new at a skill' discussions on LJ in meta fandom communities. So this is how much I could be in fandom and not be a part of it and also have like a wildly different experience to your LJ experience!

I think if I'd been a teenager during that era it would have seemed a lot more appealing (in the same way that many teens are antis now before they grow out of it), and fuck it if I was a more bitter person who was just around people who liked to make fun of what other people created, perhaps I would have enjoyed it too, I can see a lot of reasons why a person would fall into that in LJ -> but I was an adult on LJ trying not to be mean to people or what they were creating, so yeah I was maybe just in very different spaces! (Don't get me wrong, I have my giant fucking character flaws, but I was very scared of people hating me so like I didn't want to do things that would make that happen, lol, and also I was scared to put up fic myself during the era of active sporking. I know for myself that sporkers didn't just scare away writers of 'badfic' - they...intimidated a LOT of people).

Before AO3 I was on FF.net, posting fics on LJ, posting on Schnoogle, gossamer, and a couple of other archives. So I don't think my experience was that 'narrow,' I just think I wasn't around like... anime at that time or other places where it might have been happening. I also avoided like...Draco/Malfoy where CC drama was happening and I know sporking was popular in that specific arena / pairing for a while as well (er, as well as anything to do with Mary Sues).

So yeah! That's about where that is. Generally gatekeeping fandom is just seen as not a great thing to do to people, and that creates other kind of beliefs that are generally upheld as being more inviting/nurturing. After all, if someone truly wants to get better at writing, they can ask, or do courses, but as we all know, everyone has to write some bad stuff to get good at it, but not everyone wants to be good. Folks are in fandom for different reasons. I'm rambling now so I'm going to finish my lunch! :D

[incorrect-house-of-nine]

I wanna say: Every time a creative puts their work out their, whether it be fanfic, or art or anything really, they are being extremely vulnerable and very brave. Everybody is on their own creative journey honing their craft, and we as the audience have no way of knowing where they are on this journey. People pour their heart and soul into their creations, they snatch free moments from their lives to create, so its incredibly disheartening when folks are nasty in the comments. If you are participating in fandom, and consuming this content, choose to be kind, and supportive towards the people that are putting it -- and their personal time and effort -- out there for free. I'm not saying don't review or ask questions, but do it from a place of encouragement, not nastiness. Wrap it up like a worming pill in a bit of cheese. Concrit = when asked for. If you don't enjoy someone's stuff, there's a back button. It costs nothing to leave well alone. DL:DR If you are shitting on fanfiction as a medium, and its creators, then writing fanfiction yourself, maybe examine why you're doing that? Is it because you want to take writing seriously, yet you're insecure and afraid to admit it to yourself? Its ok to to want to write fiction, but its not ok to think you're better than/ above anyone else out there. We're all at different levels, and everybody is improving and learning. Maybe you could learn a thing or two, and improve on things too. For the love of god, if you're downloading people fics and rewriting them, (even for your own amusement) then don't admit it publicly! Maybe examine why you think you have the right to download other people's stuff and publicly admit you rewrite it. Writers and fics are not named because "that would be rude" but I posit that doing it in the first place is rude, and disrespectful.

[hannah-heartstrings]

Sweet Surprise

During a trip to Skingrad, Lecrinn and Garrus decide to surprise each other. Early in the timeline, though I'm not actually sure how canon it is.

The lost sweetroll prompt fic. I spent half a month writing this, finished it, and went "meh." By then I'd worked on it to the point of not being able to tell if it was good or not, and I still can't tell.

So I'll just release it into the wild and you can tell me. (I do know some things I do and don't like but I decided to keep them to the tags.) From October 2022 but I'm still accepting concrit on it.

@druidx @babyblueetbaemonster @inkysqueed

---------

            Cradling two sweet rolls in one hand Lecrinn held them close as she pushed the heavy door with the other. She opened it just enough to slip out, leaving the chatter and warmth of the busy inn for the street outside. It was also busy and warm but more tolerably so.

            She squinted against the afternoon sun. Now that she had the sweet rolls it was time to find Garrus, after she dragged him all the way from Cheydinhal to Skingrad it was only right he get something out of it.

            The roads were narrow between the tall stone buildings that arched above them. She weaved through their hustle and bustle. The street widened out into a fork, forward continued to more buildings and to the left, a statue of a horseman. There gazing up at the statue she found Garrus.

            Catching her from the corner of his eye he turned and beamed at her.

            She couldn’t help but smile back.

            “I have a surprise for you,” he said as she walked up.

            “So do I!” She stopped, both their smiles falling at the sweet rolls in the other’s hands. Looking back up at the other’s face they gave laughing smiles.

            “I suppose we had the same idea,” he shifted.

            She shrugged. “It’s a good idea.” His smile looked forced, he seemed to feel awkward, she didn’t know why and it was making her feel awkward too. “Well… this one’s yours,” she held one out and they swapped, both laughing a little. She noticed he only held one. “Did you already eat yours?”

            “I uh,” he glanced down, “I don’t know how much money this trip will end up costing so I only bought one for you.”

            “Oh…” she looked to her second one.

            “You can keep it.”

            “Nah, lets split it later.”

            “No, you bought it for yourself, you can have it.”

            She walked passed him. “One and a half sweet rolls is still more than I planned on getting.”

            He tilted his head, he supposed that was true. Turning he saw her sitting on the round base of the statue. He looked startled. “Are you allowed to sit there?”

            “I don’t see anyone guarding it.” Pulling the pack off her shoulders and beside her she rifled through it.

            “What if you get in trouble?”

            “Then you can just arrest me.”

            He looked around before going over to sit beside her.

            Finding a small cloth she wrapped up one of the rolls and put it in her pack. She then turned all her attention to the one in her hand, closing her eyes as she took a bite, savoring its sweet spice.

            “Mmm!”

            She looked to Garrus who was looking at his sweet roll surprised.

            “They really are better in Skingrad.”

            “Salmo’s sweet rolls are famous for a reason.”

            “Perhaps we should get more of these before we leave.”

            Her smile widened. “Does Cheydinhal have its own desserts?” She took another bite.

            “There’s the thirty layer cake.”

            She had to quickly swallow the bite. “Thirty layers?”

            “They’re thin.”

            “Why would you ever need thirty layers?!”

            “No, they’re very thin, it isn’t much taller than a regular cake.”

            “Oh… I’m having a hard time picturing it,” she gave a smirk, “I think I’ll have to see it for myself.” The smile turned more genuine. “Is it good?” She took a smaller bite.

            “I haven’t got to try one, they’re expensive.”

            The smile fell. “Oh.”

            “I like the spiced root cake the Dunmer make, and there’s one made from something called marshmerrow, it’s a little too sweet for me but I think you’d like it.”

            “I’ll have to try them next time I’m in town.”

            “I’m also quite fond of the bread they make out of yams, though,” he lowered his voice, “I’ve been afraid to try it with scrib jelly.”

            “What’s that?”

            “…Maybe when you’re done with your sweet roll.”

            Her brows rose.

            As they continued eating she looked around, gaze catching on the red leaves of a nearby tree, its branches bobbing slightly.

            He stared out at the street. “I have been trying to learn more about Dunmer culture, and not judge things that are different too quickly.”

            She smirked to him. “Except for scrib jelly?”

            “Well some things are easier to respect from afar.”

            “Ah.”

            “It is admirable though, because not much grows in the ashlands they have to find food elsewhere and they managed to get multiple food types out of something others wouldn’t see as such, they’re survivors, no matter the situation you put them in.”

            She furrowed her brows. “I really don’t want to know what a scrib is, do I?”

            “No.” Tearing a piece off his sweet roll he rolled it between his fingers. “I hope that learning more about them will help me be a better guard to them, like you said, at the very least, perhaps I’ll be a better man.”

            Her smile lessened but turned more genuine. “You are a good guard.”

            “I hope so, protecting everyone is why I became a guard in the first place.” Eating the bite his eyes lit up. He turned to her. “Does the Merchant Inn still make those blackberry tarts?”

            “What?” She blinked, brain taking a second to keep up with the sudden topic change.

            “I use to get them sometimes when I was training in the Imperial City.”

            “Um…” she glanced off, thinking, before turning back to him. “I don’t know, I’ll check. If they do I’ll bring you some, unless they wouldn’t stay good… Maybe I’ll just have to bring you there,” she smirked.

            “Hopefully that can be soon,” he turned back to his sweet roll.

            She looked surprised. Did he mean he wanted the tarts soon or did he like her dragging him places? She looked away as she couldn’t contain the grin spreading across her face.

            Turning back to him she saw he was staring at his dessert, the same awkward look as when she gave it to him. Seemed whatever had been bothering him never really went away. “What’s wrong?”

            “I am grateful, truly, but since I wanted to surprise you didn’t know what I was doing and bought some too.”

            “So now we have three sweet rolls,” she was confused as to how this was a problem.

            “I just feel bad you had to pay for two.”

            “Oh…” she glanced off with a smirk, “don’t worry about that.”

[ffcrazy15]

Y'know...

I'm kinda getting just...burnt out, man. I don't know what it is, but the fanfic community these last few years has just been really difficult to engage with. There are a lot of reasons, but I think among the biggest is this: (warning: long vent incoming):

So. I've been writing fanfic for...gosh, fourteen years now. And back in the day, we had our fair share of problems, I won't lie. Now I came in after the major flame wars of the '00s, but still, there were the shipping wars and the shit-stirrers and the people who took other people having a different opinion on their faves WAY too personally.

But! There were rules of engagement. People might not have always followed them, but back then you could say to someone, "hey, you're not behaving in the way we all agree people should behave in this space. You're being a jerk." And people would either lose their shit at you and you'd block them, or they'd apologize and not do the rude thing moving forward.

This went especially for new writers/readers. They'd make a mistake, people would inform them, and they wouldn't make the mistake again moving forward. That was how we built a health community back then.

*Now: a disclaimer. I know not all new fans are like this, and to those of you who do listen when people inform you of the etiquette of fandom spaces, I want to give a sincere thank-you. The following does not apply to you.

However, and not to be an old woman yelling at the kids to get off her lawn, but:

I see people trying, politely, to tell newcomers the basic rules of engagement for how to interact in fandom. "Don't complain about things that are clearly marked in the summary or tags." "Do not get into dumb shipping wars. Ship and let ship." "Don't leave harsh or unasked-for concrit." "Don't demand updates in the comments."

And instead of saying "Oh wow, sorry, I didn't know about that, I'll do better next time"—I see some new folks responding with things like "Well this just makes me NEVER want to comment/engage/participate!"

And writers are so scared of not getting ANY engagement in this landscape of already dwindling comments and reblogs—or worse, ruining things for other writers—that they immediately capitulate and say oh, we're sorry, we shouldn't have told you you were being rude, please don't stop commenting on fics, we were in the wrong.

And I'm here to say: No. Enough! It is our job as the older citizens of this space to set the expectations for community behavior. If the new arrivals get mildly embarrassed for being politely informed (key words there) that they've committed a faux pas, then that's okay! It's a growing experience. Learning how to be polite in new social settings isn't traumatizing them or causing them emotional harm. They will survive the couple seconds of embarrassment, and then they will go on to be kinder and more conscientious citizens of the digital landscape.

Now, if you're a newcomer who is intimidated by people telling you the rules of etiquette in fandom spaces:

Look. I get it. I was new to fandom once, and I know that that can be intimidating! But sometimes there are going to be situations where you will be new to a social setting and have to awkwardly feel things out, and you will make mistakes and be corrected by others. That's just part of life. Thankfully, fandom is a space where folks have really tried to cultivate clear rules of engagement and want to hand it on to new people! There are guides on the "ao3 etiquette" tag of how to leave polite comments and interact in fandom, and there are lots of people who will help you learn the ropes if you ask them nicely.

I promise you, you have the ability to learn the rules of social etiquette in this online space. You will be able to emotionally withstand the minor embarrassment; all of us have before you, and you will too. And if you are not able to emotionally handle someone politely taking you aside and informing you that you're making some social mistakes and how to fix them, then you are not mature enough to participate in fandom spaces.

Now, for folks who've read this far and would like some quick tips on fandom etiquette, here they are. Remember, none of this advice is meant as a criticism, and if you've done some of these things without knowing better, then that's okay, we all make mistakes! This is simply to help us all have a good time in this space and build each other up as readers and writers!

"Don't like, don't read." — The most important rule of fandom. If you come across a fanfic that has something in the summary or the tags that you don't like, then do not click on that fic. If you do choose to read it anyway, you have no right to blame the author for your reading something you didn't enjoy.

"Dead Dove: Do Not Eat." — A more extreme version of "Don't like, don't read," this means that there is content in the fic that most people would find disgusting, frightening or morally objectionable. Do not read that story if you do not want to read that sort of content.

"Ship and let ship." — Other people will like different ships or romantic pairings of characters than you do. Their doing so is not an insult to you or to the characters in question. If you do not want to engage with stories/fanart/etc. of that ship, then do not read those fics, and block those tags here on Tumblr. Do not go onto other people's fics/art/etc. and tell them that they are wrong for liking that ship (This includes if you find the ship morally objectionable; see "DL:DR" and "DD:DNE" above.)

Tagging – If you are a writer, make sure to tag your story appropriately. This includes the romantic ships (indicated with a slash, / ) and the friendship ships (indicated with an & or the word "and"). It also includes things like graphic depictions of violence, non-consensual or dubiously consensual sexual content, characters who are under the age of eighteen engaging in sexual situations, and major character death. It also includes "Dead Dove: Do Not Eat" (see above), which you should include as a tag if you have content in your fic that the majority of people would find disgusting, frightening or morally objectionable.

Rating – Make sure to rate your story appropriately. If there is explicit sexual content or graphic violence in your story, it should be rated as "mature" or "explicit." Do not label it as "teen" or "general" (or K, K+ or T on FF.net). If there is any sexual content or more-than-cartoon-violence in your story, it should not be rated as "general" (or K or K+).

Bookmarking — Be aware that unless you set the bookmark to "private," the author can read any comments or tags you leave on the bookmark.

Commenting — Almost all writers love comments, and many writers depend on comments for their motivation to continue a story. Leaving comments is both a great way to show a writer that you enjoy their story, as well as provide the writer with motivation to keep writing! A comment can be as elaborate as you like and list every detail you loved about the story, or as simple as "this was good, I really liked it!" Either of those is fine. Keyboard smashes are also fine, as are emojis if you're too shy to write a full comment.

Commenting on Older Stories — Is absolutely fine, and in fact highly appreciated!

Demanding an Update — Do not, however, demand that a writer update quickly or ask them when the next chapter will be. Writers are doing this for free, and demanding an update is considered impolite at best and guilt-tripping at worst. (Examples: saying "This is really good, excited for more!" is fine, since this does not put a timed expectation on the writer. Saying "This is really good, when is the next update!" is considered mildly impolite, and simply writing "Update" is considered highly rude. It is seen as demanding another free gift right after you've received one.)

Concrit/Constructive Criticism — Different writers' mileage will vary on how much they like constructive criticism, so best practice is to check their author's notes, summary, or author page to see if they say they are okay with concrit. If they do not say so, then default to assuming they don't want concrit.

If you do provide constructive criticism, make sure to include at least two compliments as well (preferably more). State the criticism politely and briefly.

Also, be aware that an author might disagree with your advice and choose not to take it. This is not a slight against you personally, and you should not treat it as such.

Do not offer criticism that is not meant to be constructive or help the author grow in their writing skills.

Do not offer "constructive criticism" about you disliking things the author has clearly tagged or noted in the summary. That is not constructive criticism, that is just flaming. (See "DL:DR" above.)

And finally: Never Ascribe to Maliciousness What Can Be Attributed To Ignorance. — If someone is rude to you, remember that they might be new to the space and not be aware of the rules of etiquette. Politely inform them that they've screwed up, and assume that everyone is well-intentioned until they prove otherwise.

And there you have it! By following the above advice, you can help to build up a thriving fan culture of happy writers and happy readers. Remember, we're all here to enjoy our favorite works together and create fan content for them, so let's all work together to create a pleasant digital space for one another. :)

[kedreeva]

Hi! i hope it's okay to messages you about this. your posts about concrit have been so encouraging and helpful! Today i was talking to someone who isn't active in fandom much, but she read this really nice fic and asked me about commenting, and she said that obviously she wouldn't be mean but concrit is okay right? so i told her that unless the author asked for it, she shouldn't, and she didn't understand why, so i tried to explain it with that "you've brought cookies to work" thing, and she said that actually, she would want people to tell her if there was something she could do better, because otherwise she would make the same cookies again next time and people would have the same critique and not enjoy them, so no one gained anything. and it's great that she would want the concrit, but she shouldn't assume that others do. and then she said she thinks people who won't accept criticism have a weak character, and why wouldn't they want to improve, and she won't comment on the fic at all now. and i guess that's better than leaving concrit, but that was still so frustrating. i sent her some of your posts, but i don't think she got it, unfortunately. anyway, thanks for listening!

Hi! It's perfectly fine to message me about this 💜

Unfortunately sometimes people are just not at a place of development where they can put themselves into anyone else's shoes. "I would want this so everyone else must too" is a very narrow scope of vision and learning to think "I would want this, but I should not assume everyone does and should ask them to make sure" instead can take a lot of effort. Some people are willing to put in that effort, some aren't. You can try to teach them, but ultimately it's on their shoulders so don't beat yourself up about it if they don't want to hear it.

I've come to prefer the "taking a walk" analogy over the potluck one. It goes like this: If I'm out taking a pleasure stroll with some friends and a stranger comes up and starts critiquing how I walk or why, I'm not going to feel particularly charitable toward them. Someone coming up to me to explain how I need to walk in order to run in marathons isn't going to do anything but annoy me, because the point of taking a pleasure stroll with friends isn't to run a marathon. It's to hang out with my friends doing something we both like for our own reasons, as a fun social activity. It could be the best advice in the world, but it's the wrong context in which to provide it, so it doesn't matter. It's worthless because the person giving advice obviously doesn't understand anything about my motivations or goals and didn't even bother to ask if I wanted help in the first place; all they're concerned about is making sure they look smart.

The other thing that's important to both analogies is the idea of just... Basic manners involving consent. Your friend would want to be told, but if you want to reopen the dialogue, ask her which is better: someone at a potluck coming up unprompted to say "your cookies have too much salt," or someone coming up and saying "hey, you baked the cookies right? Do you mind if I give you some advice for next time?" and then respecting the answer. She also has the option of saying "hey, I made the cookies, does anyone have any pointers for next time?" which allows her to consent up front.

Anyway, I'm sure I'm not the only one who appreciates you attempting to educate your friend on common fandom manners. I hope she learns better in a gentle way.