#just needed somewhere to get this out

[lesbian-in-leather]

Okay I know there are a million and one posts on this topic already, but when has that ever stopped me before? So buckle up, folks; we’re talking about appreciating fanfic authors.

Because yeah, I see posts talking about it, but also, idk, maybe somehow people haven’t quite gotten the message yet. So, for those you you who don’t know, if you write fics on ao3 (which is where I and a hell of a lot of other people post all their work) you get a fun little page marked ‘Statistics’ - which is exactly what it sounds like: a complete overview of all your stats - how many hits, kudos, comments, bookmarks and subscriptions you’ve ever gotten, side by side with how many words you’ve written. And, honestly, looking at it, it kinda feels like I’m the world’s worst video game player

Because I know people click on my fics, and that’s definitely a great feeling in and of itself. But then I see the rest of the numbers, and the voice in the back of my mind tells me that, looking at the statistics, people also clicked off my fics. They didn’t enjoy them. They couldn’t even bring themselves to leave kudos - maybe because they couldn’t even force themselves to get to the end

And maybe you’re thinking what I do - maybe my fics are just bad! But this is my point

I know a lot of fic writers feel this way - and some of them are fucking amazing writers. And maybe I’m not one of them! But y’all need to step the fuck up with supporting the authors who are because otherwise, they’ll lose their motivation too, and they’ll stop posting and maybe even delete their accounts, and no one will be able to read their incredible works ever again

And every single post I see about this asks that people comment! It’s every author’s favourite thing! I get such a warm fuzzy feeling whenever anyone leaves kudos on a fic of mine, and if they bookmark it I’ll smile all day - but comments are the things that get me writing more. Comments are the things that I screenshot and save so that I can reread them, over and over, whenever I doubt my writing, because look what someone said. Even if you’ve already commented, or have reread the fic a bunch but don’t know what to say - just say that! Tell the author that you keep coming back, tell them that you really enjoyed their work, point out your favourite line or, if you can, tell them what it is that you loved about it! Just something

To put all this into perspective, this is what my statistics page looks like, right now, as I’m writing this:

Now, user subscriptions are lovely, but I don’t really mind if I don’t get any of those - the fact that seven people want to be notified when I post is honestly mind-bending enough. And I’ve never posted a multi-chapter, so I have no idea which work those two people have subscribed to, but I never even imagined that that number would climb above zero

What gets me, though, is the disparity between hits and everything else. I’ve spent so many hours writing tens of thousands of words, and I just... idk. It’s really discouraging to look at. And I try to rationalise, I really do! Because the fact that there were 89 instances of people liking my work so much that they left a lil message just to tell me that is so so lovely! That’s so many people - even though some of them are the same person commenting on different works, that means they liked more than one that much! And if I was in a room with all of them, it’d still be a hell of a lot of people that liked my writing! And over two hundred people bookmarked my stuff! They not only read it once, but they wanted to read it again! Two hundred people! Imagine that!! But then I look back at the hit counter, and compare the figures

Now, with numbers like that, my brain can’t really conceptualise them, so allow me to do the maths for you. My various works have been clicked on fifteen thousand, eight hundred and four times. Just under 13.6% of those instances resulted in someone giving me kudos. Just under 1.5% resulted in a bookmark. And less than 0.6% of people commented.

And, like I said, maybe it’s me. Maybe my writing just isn’t that great, and that’s fine, I can take a hint. But I am literally begging you to support the authors that you do like. It’s so easy and it only takes you a couple of minutes to leave kudos and write a comment, and I promise you that the author will thank you for it

[nerdpoe]

Dick gets his drink mixed up with another persons in the library while visiting Barbara.

He was drinking some kale smoothie thing, for health and stuff, and he set it down to grab a book from the shelf. There was another guy next to him, who also had a smoothie in the same kind of shake-n-go bottle.

They swapped by accident.

Dick checked out his book, said goodbye to Barbara, and took a sip of his smoothie.

That's the last thing he remembers.

He wakes up two days later pinned down by a practically feral Jason, who's eyes are glowing a sickly Lazarus green, with Bruce, Tim, Cass, and Duke all showing signs of losing a fight. He's sore everywhere, and Damian is nowhere to be seen.

"Uh...." his voice cracks, and he's suddenly aware of how fucking painful his throat is. "Hi? What's going on?"

"...Is it really you, Dickwing? I swear to God if it isn't and this is another-"

"Jay I really don't know what's going on, man."

Jason doesn't believe him. Dick is cuffed with anti-meta cuffs and escorted to the cave, where Bruce demands test after test and Dick tells them the last thing he remembers.

Apparently, after taking that sip, his eyes had turned to Lazarus green, and he had beelined for the mansion. Along the way there, he had run into the Riddler.

He had broken most of the Riddler's bones.

That was when everyone had been called in to subdue Dick, who for some strange reason kept gunning for Damian. Hence, Damian was upstairs and not allowed down until they were sure Dick was okay again.

It's concluded that Dick drank some alternate form of Lazarus Water, lost his mind, proceeded to take everyone out with enhanced strength and speed except Jason, who had entered a Pit episode just to keep up, and worked through it two days after consumption.

But who the fuck transported a material as dangerous as modified Lazarus Water in a fucking shake-n-go bottle?

Danny, however, is a little sad that his ecto-shake was stolen by some rando at the library.

Their kale smoothie was pretty good though.

[excali8ur]

So there's this AU,

[pangur-and-grim]

it’s hard for me to feed myself right now (just in terms of physical ability), so my mom drove me and the animals to her place. she carried the cats in first, because I had to butt-scoot up the front stairs, and once inside, Pangur got scared and ran. she’s tucked herself away somewhere, and nobody can find her. I probably could, and I could lure her out and make her feel safe again, except that I’m largely immobile. I keep falling on the crutches and fucking my leg up further, and the likeliest hiding spots are up or down a fleet of stairs. it’s been 4 hours, and it’s killing me not to look for her. I’m so tempted to crawl down the basement stairs, broken leg be damned.

[aurosoulart]

alright. that's it. technology has gone too far

[floating-goblin-art]

love the idea that terzo's ghouls died with him, or got tossed back into the Pit... but what if they turned into pillars of salt

[ruporas]

cheers to the future of humanity (and the future of us)

[ID: Digital illustration in color of Vash and Wolfwood from Trigun. The illustration takes place during the ship/home arc, specifically chapter 21. At the center, Vash is grabbing Wolfwood by the collar and pulls him into a kiss in the middle of a celebration. The pair is colored in vibrant warm hues while their surroundings are colored in cooler colors like green and teals. Luida, Brad, Meryl, and Milly are shown amongst the crowd, occupied in the celebrations as Vash and Wolfwood share a moment by themselves at the center. END ID]

[lover-of-mine]

[jestroer]

Cletho for the win

[cemeterything]

finally had a conversation with my parents where i was able to share my honest feelings about them and the way they raised me and also face up to some of the really shitty things i've done to them and the harm i've caused and everything i've kept hidden and let fester. and while we both said things that upset each other and it feels pretty fucking awful right now, and i don't think we'll ever have the ideal relationship that any of us wants, i don't regret it. i regret a lot of things about my life and the decisions i've made. but it was a discussion that needed to be had. and whatever happens now, whether we learn to compromise despite our differences and get closer or drift further apart until we're strangers to each other, i feel like i can maybe start to properly self reflect without any illusions or fears about myself holding me back and really grow as a person and make more meaningful decisions and changes in my life instead of just running and hiding from ever facing the future. i'm finally able to accept that i'm even less of a good or happy person than i let myself think i was. but i'm also not afraid to try to be myself anymore and figure out how to live.

[puppyeared]

i like him

[stuckinapril]

Something so ineffable about exhaustion that comes not from a lack of sleep but from a lack of rest

[tamago-aki]

so you're telling me i can draw ANYTHING..... (bestows anakin snore mimimi)

[starry-bi-sky]

Part SEVEN of "Clone Danny"

Red Robin, Danny recognizes, steps away from him as he sits up. "My name is Phantom," he signs, blinking the exhaustion out of his eyes. (From Red Robin's perspective, it looks like he has no eyes. There lacks his signature green glow.) "I'm not a gang member, just an out-of-town vigilante."

Red Robin frowns at him, an uncertain grip on the bō in his other hand. "Phantom?" He repeats, no lacking amount of suspicion in his voice. "How can I believe that?"

Right. Yeah, okay, that's fair. Danny shrugs at him, and slumps against the wall. "Google search?" He gestures, he's been out in the daytime before and he's seen the news articles about him.

Red's eyes narrow at him and Danny simply draws his knees up and faceplants into them, half-listening to Red's murmurs into his comm while also trying to get some extra-shut eye.

("Oracle, can you pull up anything on a vigilante named Phantom? The guy here is claiming to be one." Tim says.

"On it."

"Is this Phantom wearing a white mask?" Bruce asks, his voice gruff like an aftershock. "There's a vigilante who shares the same name, but he resides in Illinois."

"Is this guy from that Amity city you visited ages ago?" Says Tim, before shaking his head. "Don't answer that. Yes, he's wearing some freaky mask. I said it reminded me of Hood's helmet for a reason."

"I've got something," Oracle interrupts, "Bats' right. as usual. The Phantom of Amity Park, not much stuff of this guy but he's only been out for over a year. Apparently, his rogues' gallery consists of ghosts."

"Oh great.")

"Look tell the Batman that I'm sorry for trespassing on his turf," He signs irritably when Red Robin eventually starts talking to (re: interrogating) him again. "It's not like I want to be here."

"How did you get in Gotham anyways?" Red Robin questions, batman was on his way to help deal with the situation but Tim doubted he wouldn't get caught up on the way with dealing with petty crime. "Your turf is nearly a thousand miles away from here."

"Two words." Danny deadpans, "Teleport ghost." (Red Robin winces sympathetically.) "I'm keeping this bastard in the thermos for a month for this alone."

(Danny was ignoring the slow-choking anxiety growing in his lungs over how he was gonna get home. He never takes his phone when he goes out, the risk of breaking it was too high. He had no way of contacting anyone to get him home.)

(He swallows the growing lump in his throat, and buries the feeling in the back of his mind.)

"Thermos?"

Danny unclips his Fenton Phantom Thermos off from his belt loop and shows it to Red Robin. "My ghost-catching device," He says with one hand, tilting it carefully for Red to inspect. "I wish I could say I made it, but its a FentonWorks invention."

(He wasn't sure if it was a smart idea to say who it belonged to, but saying it wasn't his probably loosened up any tracks on him, right?)

"Do you work with these Fentons, then?" Red asks, and something dark and shadowy flickers from the corner of Danny's eye. He glances over, and sees nothing, and his hackles raise.

(Either that was Batman, or a ghost, or Danny's mind playing tricks on him. He couldn't feel his ghost sense building in his throat, so he decided it was either the latter of the former.)

Danny snorts, quiet and gruff. "No." He clips his thermos to his belt again, stifling a smile on his face. "The Fentons hate me actually, I prevent them from catching ghosts themselves. Their son gives me their tech."

He had a cover story, so he might as well stick with it, right?

Batman shows up at that moment, appearing atop the little roof where the door is, and giving Danny a heart attack when he speaks in his low, rumbly voice like thunder rolling in, "Why would they hate you for that?"

Danny shoots up to his feet with a startled yell in his throat, clutching his chest as he whirls around and looks up. He nearly runs into Red Robin, and signs a few choice swears at the Bat.

"wow you're scarier in person, asshole."

"you didn't answer my question."

"Of course I didn't, you scared me." and Danny takes a trembling step back when the Batman jumps down and lands on the roof in front of him. He's faced ghosts before, but somehow the living is always scarier.

"But, um, the reason is a bit.. complicated, I guess." He says, fingers beginning to shake as his adrenaline wears off. God is he tired. He wants to go home. "The Fentons are the local ghost hunters and local crazies. I don't know if I can call them mad scientists because they're harmless to the living."

"But they're extremely anti-ghost. I've heard from their son multiple times the very unethical things they would do to ghosts if they got their hands on one."

Danny 'talks' a little more before calling it quits, even telling Batman that he can't tell him more without putting his identity at risk.

Plus, its getting harder and harder to hide his bone-deep exhaustion and his growing fear of being stranded in the most dangerous city in America with no way home.

"I would love to tell you more, believe me I'm dying to." Danny signs, shaky sarcasm dripping from his fingers. His hands are visibly trembling and he's withholding a slowly growing panic attack. "But I would like nothing more than to figure out a way to get home."

"Do you have no one to contact?"

"Sort of. But only one of them could probably come get me and get me back to Amity by sunrise. And I have no phone."

That one person being Ellie.

=====

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 4.5 (Dani interlude) Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 7.5 (Dan Interlude) Part 8

Taglist: @the-navistar-carol @thought-u-said-dragon-queen @gin2212 @youracearocroatneighbour @luckybyrdrobyn @deeplyconfusedbear @epilepticnerd @beautifulmomenttodrawblank @sara0055 @blusunkhild @letmesayfuxk (?) @latheevening226 @tkiesai @rosedasy @meira-3919

[yutaleks]

was horny, had to get this out somewhere. wc: 1.7k. afab gn reader x yuuta, pegging. reader squirts. Divider by cafekitsune

There's something specific about a strapless strap-on that drives Yuuta insane.

You didn't really notice until the second time you had him laying on his back, knees clinging to your sides, and head turned away from you, his face pathetically buried in his pillow with only the red tip of his left ear and the reddened splotches on his neck bared to you. The first time you ever fucked him lasted a good whole three minutes before he was a mess of sweat and cum, but this second time at least he had enough restraint to last a little longer.

But paired with his newfound vigor for lasting longer than the length of a pop song was the fact that this time you could whole-heartedly study him. No longer was he on his knees and elbows, eyes screwed shut and body trembling like a wet dog in the breeze as you pushed yourself into his virgin hole; Instead, this time, you got to watch his reactions: a first-class ticket to the many faces you didn't think your boyfriend could possibly make.

The first was one of surprise: impossibly blue eyes widened and kiss-bitten, sore lips parted as you shimmied up the bed, your five-inch fuscia-colored silicone penis jutted out in his direction like an ominous warning. It's not that he was afraid (because, holy shit, that first time you touched his prostate was the first time he swore he saw God), but perhaps the vulnerability of the whole thing made his skeleton want to push its way out from under his flesh.

What if he came too quickly again? How embarrassing would that be.

And though he never subscribed to the ultra-masculine, rigid gender roles thought to be imposed upon most heterosexual relationships (I mean, you're fucking him in the ass for crying out loud), there was still some unconditioning that was happening in his mind; it was taking a bit of getting used to, to tell himself that it's okay to want this. While most porn in the vein of being penetrated had way too much aggression and leather for his taste, something about seeing you in this position, and the intimacy of being the one penetrated... well, the thought had him rock hard, frankly. He wanted it so badly he'd sit there spreading his legs for you any day of the week.

Which brought him then to his second set of endearing expressions. As your hips touched the back of his thighs, you produced a cute little remote, the color of which was matching with the strap-on. During your first time, you were easier on him--you'd used a more traditional strap-on, a silicone dildo placed into a harness which wrapped around your pelvis. It was simple, flesh-colored and barren of any fancy vibrational modes (pulsation? really?). So when you'd lightly tossed the remote with little warning, and giggled in an endearing way as he scrambled to catch it in his palms, you smiled at his expression of confusion.

"You can make it vibrate," you'd told him as you squeezed lube onto your fingertips.

"For me?" He blinked, voice too innocent for a guy who'd just had three of your fingers knuckle-deep in his ass.

"Either one of us."

He gasped a little bit at that, as if the possibility of making yours vibrate had never even occurred to him. His eyes followed, up and down, as you pumped the silicone shaft with a closed lubricated fist, not unlike what someone would do with an actual penis. Your level of command over yourself was intimidating, though he wouldn't tell you that.

As you grabbed the back of his thighs and adjusted your positions, Yuuta could barely even look at the remote, too entranced by the sight of you. With no straps hugging your sides, if it weren't for the pink color of the silicone, it'd almost feel real... something about that made the back of his neck sweat.

"Ready for me?"

He nodded twice before his expression of confusion, innocence, morphed into one of absolute desperation. And you hadn't even pushed in more than the tip.

"hah," he panted as you rocked your hips into him. You gave him an inch, and tugged it away, like the rise and ebb of ocean waves. "m-more,"

"Yuu-"

With eyes trained on your pelvis, mind swimming with thoughts about how much closer he felt to you without straps in the way, he'd reached out for your forearms, mumbling some pathetic verbiage that barely could count as a whimper. All you could make out was "closer" before the overachiever lifted his hips just slightly off the mattress. You'd notice his lust as you prepped him but his eyes took on a ravenous quality as he took in the image of you, silicone cock and no straps to be seen, fucking into him so confidently.

"okay, okay," you cooed as you leaned down, thighs pushing his own back until he had folded himself up. Leaning down, a new expression of his emerged: lids half-closed, pupils so watery and warbling you'd think he were crying. He outright begged to kiss you, as the last of the silicone cock was pushed into him by your merciful thrusts. How sweet you were, kissing and swallowing at every moan as his strong, toned arms wrapped around your shoulders, begging for more skin-to-skin.

Had he forgotten the remote entirely? You wondered.

When you were finally inside him, fully to the hilt of your strap, you felt the ridges of its base against your clit, and Yuuta outright shivered at the deep moan that left your lips. It was at that moment that he remembered the remote, the second button on it dedicated to the clitoral stimulator. Would you like that? He'd do anything you liked.

So as you pinned down his knees, lifting away just enough to get into a comfortable thrusting position, Yuuta found the remote that he had so carelessly discarded just on the pillow beside his face. A smearing of blush, just the faintest hint of pink, settled across his cheekbones as he watched you pull out and push back into him; from this angle, he couldn't even see the strap. It fooled him into this sense that he was being impaled on your cock.

Fuck, he already needed to cum at the thought.

He slammed one of the buttons without looking at which one, his face turned away to hide his weakening resolve. He thought he had pressed the button to stimulate your clit, or perhaps even the bulb inside of you; but to your chagrin, he had pressed the vibrating mode of the cock that was currently five inches deep inside of him.

"Ah!" he immediately yelped, having never felt a sensation like that before. The reddening of his skin worsened as you giggled at his helplessness, splotches of affection blooming from his jawline to his sternum. A particularly pointed thrust from you did nothing to help the matter.

"Yuuta, baby," you gave his knee a pinch, to which he turned just enough away from the pillow for it to count as a reply. "Want me to stop?"

"No!" he quipped, embarrassingly quickly and just as embarrassingly loud. "N-no, please,"

"You're so cute."

He retaliated with a press of another button. This one, the vibrator inside of you. Your hips stuttered, a labored breath leaving your lips as you paused your movements. With both ends of the strap-on vibrating inside of you both, suddenly Yuuta was so grateful you'd switched from the previous, simple strap. What an incredible feat of technology, he thought for a moment, watching how endearingly you gritted your teeth, attempting to keep your composure.

Perhaps Yuuta's next expression, one that looked to you as if he'd discovered teasing for the very first time, made your stomach flip on its side. Yuuta pressed the button once more, upping your vibrator. He could be a little cheeky when he wanted to be.

"The clit one," your voice, strained, asked him as you slammed into his backside. Each thrust into him had the ridged side of the strap nudging against your swollen, neglected clit. It was you, begging for relief, that spurred him to press the button.

"Oh, fuck,"

what a lovely sound to hear. Yuuta, with cock twitching against his navel, shut his eyes and babbled pleas into the space between your bodies. He pressed buttons on the remote at random, upping the intensity of each piece of the strap until he wriggled against the sheets, body convulsing with the need to cum. Vaguely he could hear you coming apart, a low, sexy moan rolling off your tongue as your grip on the back of his thighs turned painful. He didn't care; fuck he didn't care at all when he was seconds away from coming all over your dick.

Which he did, with an unceremonious sound that perhaps resembled an animal dying. You didn't remember it, fucking yourself on the base of the strap to chase your own high, which had been building slowly pre-clit vibrator. Smashing your hips against that thing felt so good that, as you watched the last drops of Yuuta's cum lodge themselves between the dark, incredibly sexy hairs of his happy trail, you gave yourself one of the strongest orgasms you'd ever felt in your life, juices squirting all over the silicone like it had been you who ejaculated all over it and not him. Or perhaps it was both of you--Yuuta loved to think so.

"PleaseturnthatthingoffYuuta," you begged, overstimulation taking hold as your body plopped down on top of his own. He fumbled with the remote for what felt like forever, though it was probably a few seconds. But in the world of overstimulation the few seconds had you whimpering and begging against his chest, clawing like a wounded animal; which, perhaps if he had not just emptied the entire contents of his ballsack all over himself, would have spurred on a different version of that night's events.

But that, he would leave for another night.

With a relieved, blissful look he kissed the crown of your head, all vibrational modes off and a delightful mix of fluids rubbed between the two of you. Of all the looks he gave you, you think that satisfied smile served him best.

[wigglebox]

Suptober [Extended] - Day 21 || Love 💚💙