#this method isn't new

[delicateartisantrash]

I will be Archive Protecting/Locking all my Works soon - You'll need an A03 account to view them </3

Hey, soooo-- On the advice of others, imma look at Archive protecting my fics. Imma be doing this ~sometime this week~ and it will be applied to any future works I post, as well.

I've been advised that "Archive locking" (turning on 'show this work only to logged in users' meaning you have to have an A03 account to view the fic or download it) does in fact help protect work from scrapper bots effectively

^The scrapper bot could theoretically be provided login credentials by someone making an account for said bot.... but A03 apparently has safeblocks against exactly that, a limit to how many fics can be downloaded and the like, so it's literally not worth their time to do it

I already submitted a DCMA takedown request and all that jazz, but from reading up on the ongoing issue...

A little bit of protection to save some offense and headache, is something i feel pretty good doing. I don't mind people writing things inspired by my stories-- but I *do* mind some random asshole scraping an entire archive of people's freely provided art so they can feed it into AI models that will then be used without an ounce of credit to who they worked from. There's plenty of crap in the public domain and freely available that they can perfectly well compile to make those datasets *respectfully* they don't need to be stealing a darn thing! It's laziness, and it pisses me off like nothing else.

I spend hours-- No, actually, I spend my lifetime drafting and writing these stories. They're always rolling around in my head. I go out of my way to experience things I've never done if only because it'll be great information if I ever write about it. I'm running intense simulations of different timelines, different point of views, plugging in pieces and removing parts just to see how it might affect the narrative and then deciding whether to commit that to the written pages or not.

It's truly my greatest pleasure to share them with ya'll, and I'm so terribly sorry if archive locking my works causes any inconvenience. I really think this is the smartest move right now I can make for reasonably protecting my work in a cyberspace full of data-hungry trolls, while still keeping it available freely to those who enjoy a good story.

If there is anyone who has a guest account and has been reading my works, and for whatever reason cannot access an A03 account creation-- please message me <3 I'll do my best to set you up with the future chapters somehow.

AO3 has been scraped, once again.

As of the time of this post, AO3 has been scraped by yet another shady individual looking to make a quick buck off the backs of hardworking hobby writers. This Reddit post here has all the details and the most current information. In short, if your fic URL ends in a number between 1 and 63,200,000 (inclusive), AND is not archive locked, your fic has been scraped and added to this database.

I have been trying to hold off on archive locking my fics for as long as possible, and I've managed to get by unscathed up to now. Unfortunately, my luck has run out and I am archive locking all of my current and future stories. I'm sorry to my lovelies who read and comment without an account; I love you all. But I have to do what is best for me and my work. Thank you for your understanding.

[northstarscowboyhat]

Peepaw Starlo struggles. Autism 2 autism communication struggles.

[archerdepartures116]

✨Headcanon✨

LQG knows how to run on all fours and it's fucking terrifying. He learnt it from a Shixiong, who was just messing with him, however it was incredibly useful in Sloping and Rocky terrains.

Sometimes he Chases his disciples like that so they know the thrill of getting chased by a beast/hj

the first time I saw this pop up in my inbox snorted so loud in public

[ultiy]

yet another votv piece

this incredible lonely man will never catch a break

[willowreadsgayfanfiction]

[quietlyblooms-gone]

alright, friends, it's time for a lil heart-to-heart.

for quite a while now, i've struggled with feeling like the rpc is an actual community. there's a few things that contribute to this feeling, but it mostly comes down to a lack of interaction and visible interest. sometimes i feel very one-sided in my interest and attachment to my mutuals bc when i see their ooc posts or headcanons, i like them or comment, yet this isn't reciprocated by everyone. i can usually guess who i'm about to see in my notifications, and to be absolutely clear, i'm very grateful for those people!! it's a handful or two of you, but it could be just one and i'd be grateful. it's not about numbers whatsoever but rather growing uncomfortable that not all of my mutuals are all that interested in my character or me.

i write on here to share the excitement of creating with other people. i write on here to create together, too, but i'm also here to share characters and ideas and lore with people i know are happy to hear me ramble. i'm just getting to the point in which i'm questioning how many of you are actually happy to listen, and that's just not a good feeling at all. i'm not a mind reader, y'all. if you don't tell or show me that you care about the things i talk about or even about interacting, there's no way for me to know. eventually, i'm going to question why you're following me if i never see or hear from you, and eventually, i'm going to softblock and move on. that's the only way forward i see right now because i just do not feel comfortable on my own blog. i feel like i'm retreating into this quiet bubble to avoid discomfort, and it really sucks. it's killing my muse.

i'm not perfect. none of us are, and we can't be online at all times to catch every little post. but if we're a community, then we should be supporting each other when we can and liking headcanons, liking/commenting on those lil ooc posts that remind us our writing partners are humans with lives outside this site, reblogging their promo posts, sending in that meme they've reblogged even if we're nervous to reach out first -- if we're a roleplaying community, then we need to act like it. " community " implies connection, and a connection doesn't really begin when you follow each other. it begins when you reach out, even if it's in some small way.

tldr: i think we can all do better to support our mutuals and to connect, and i'm going to softblock people rather than continue to feel unsure where i stand with my mutuals. i won't start until sometime next week, and i won't make one of those " like this to remain mutuals " posts. they're not helpful to me, if i'm honest. if you're worried, just reach out. i'm literally a 4'9'' gremlin who sleeps with a m.unchlax plushie -- i promise i'm not scary despite this post uvu

[pumpkinrootbeer]

say what u will about barry allen but no other superhero has had a worse time. you come in, take up another heros mantle, be a hero for however many years, DIE!!! actually die not comic death but die to the point you are functionally irrelevant for 20 years you completely cease to be that character and the vast majority of people grew up with a different flash, get resurrected you're back now (yay?), writers don't know what to do with you because there's already another flash and there has been for the past two decades so the entire universe kinda hems and haws about what to do with you until they take you out of your main comics and just have you chill in the justice league, then you lose your powers and are once again no longer the flash.

I need a "where are they now" but for Barry Allen flash. dead for Twenty Real Life Years. come back to life. reset the universe. just to lose your powers and be booted again from the superhero title. God himself hates this man

"Oh wally got erased from existence" "well x happens to Batman" it's not even about what happens in the narrative it's like. you're the only mainstream superhero ever that stopped existing for two decades and when they do decide to bring the character back they have no idea what to do with you so you're eventually forever relegated to the sidelines And also you're not the strongest or the most skilled or the fastest flash and they keep retconning all the special stuff You did in specific and refuse to let your narrative exist beyond Dead Mom. bartholomew baby I'm so sorry

[autistickaitovocaloid]

kaitostim

[boyheros]

finally tried to sketch out a little of how i've been imagining. the cloning machine. not too crazy or maybe it is i dont know. the base black membrane is not just a floating window i promise, it's attached to the rest of the thing and is supposed to swing down and lower into the feeder reservoir (crucially, with the part facing us right now facing upwards when it's moved parallel to the floor, as opposed to just closing it face-to-face like a laptop or something) but for some reason i'm struggling to imagine what a mechanism that could do that would look like. even though it's not thaaat complicated.

anyways. the membrane is fed the template DNA (blood is most often used) and once it accepts the sample it is swung down into the body tray and sinks into the feeder reservoir, where all the "raw materials" are i guess. i've been envisioning that the membrane frame has some sort of shutter element that can move the membrane around but i haven't figured out if i could design it to make sense mechanically yet? but the reason i want that is because once the membrane accepts the DNA sample it starts. wiggling around on it's own. and it would kinda be nasty as hell if you could see it pulling the shutters open and closed... cool right.

the reservoir is initially filled with just . raw materials that a human could be made of. fullmetal alchemist style like chemicals i guess. but as the machine gets used it eventually all grows into weird amorphous meat mess in there. it's fine for it to stay that way for a while (esp. bc base black needs to be attached to living material in order not to decay) but if you keep it too long the machine will try to self-replicate and make clones willy-nilly. and it gets more likely to be DNA contaminated. so the whole machine has to be gutted every once in a while.

hazmat suits just because yeah lots of weird human clone goo but also base black is a semi-corporeal substance meant for gluing your soul to your body. if you touch it with your skin, other organic materials like cotton fiber, or with only a thin layer covering you like latex gloves, it WILL attach to you and you WILL contaminate the whole thing. employees are even advised not to enter the room if they have open wounds of any kind cuz. the machine loves the flesh.

[foolishfantasia]

So FOP: A New Wish is still at it's fandom infancy stage. Do you know what that means?

Someone can call dibs on giving Hazel x Devin a good ship name or claim to be the CEO of whatever relationship develops in the future. XD

[starlight-storytime]

ok so blame it on the dead guy has to be the danny phantom or dc wip right

surprisingly not! "Alright, blame it on the dead guy" is actually my unsub!Spencer Reid fic bc it is CRIMINAL how few plot-driven fics with serial killer Spence assigned his own case are out there

like?? he has SO much potential but I've never come across an Unsub Reid fic that interested me so I decided to write one myself 🥸 1k snippet under the cut!

Spencer volunteered to go first, shifty and nervous. “We—ah, well, we might as well get this out of the way.”

They didn't think to take her out of the viewing room—or, still trusted her enough not to—because they let Elle stay in the corner to watch that stupid, sweet boy get through an interrogation with Hotch. The reality, the potential, hadn't really set in. The team were still scoffing and disbelieving about the mere idea that Elle was a suspect, let alone actually considering she could have killed someone and should be kept aside in a waiting room.

She didn't know whether their trust was heartwarming, or if it hurt to know she was betraying it. That she was making Spencer betray it.

“Where were you last night?” Hotch asked bluntly, diving right to the thick of it.

“890 Glendale Avenue, Queen’s Motel, room 128.” Spencer answered immediately, staring at his shirt cuff as he picked at it.

“A motel?" Hotch raised a brow. "Why weren't you at home?”

“I was, um, visiting Elle. Like I said, this case got us both really heated, and I thought as—as her friend, I should comfort her, y'know?” Spencer looked up as if asking for Hotch's approval, before realizing where he was, and looking back down at his hands awkwardly.

“How long were you at the motel?”

“From 7:23pm to 6:51am.”

“All night?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And what room was Elle staying in?”

“128.”

“So then—wait.” Hotch visibly double taked. “What room did you stay in?”

“128. Sir.”

Spencer was turning a shade of delicate rose, those honey amber doe eyes burning a hole into the ground as he very determinedly stared down at the table, lips slightly twisted.

“How many beds were in the—”

“We slept together!” Spencer burst out, hands over his face as if he couldn't bare to be seen and his ears a burning flame. “They only have queens at Queen’s Motel, which is why they're mostly popular for discreet hookups, affairs, and young couples for privacy. There's no cameras on premise for that exact reason but I can guarantee that we were preoccupied for the entire night and didn't have time to go kill anyone.”

Spencer looked up at his boss beseechingly, and his every move screamed earnest innocence. Hotch was briefly stunned silent by the outburst.

The viewing room, on the other hand, is hooting and hollering, gasping and grinning and exchanging promises to pay back bets they had apparently made.

"That's why he's so nervous, that sly dog!” Morgan crowed.

Elle stared at the picture of embarrassed, inexperienced young coworker spilling about an unlikely office romance in front of her, and now understood exactly why Spencer had said what he did on the car ride over

“I have a tattoo of four dice on my left hip, in the order 1, 3, 1, 2. I got it for twenty bucks at a Halloween flash sale in Vegas, when I was 16.”

Elle was so overwhelmed by everything going on after hiding a body and disposing of evidence, she can barely process the spontaneous fun fact Spencer shared.

“Is that your worst secret or something? Trying to make it even now that you— have mine?” Elle weakly joked. It seemed so Spencer that the worst thing he ever did was get an underage tattoo.

Spencer glanced at her briefly before turning back to the dark road he was speeding down, headlights off. “Just remember it. It's on my left hip, an inch above the bone.”

The entire viewing room was staring at Elle now, any ideas of her involvement with the murder last night swept out the door. She can only confidently manage a secretive tilt of her head before she's looking away, towards the sight of her best friend saving her from a charge of second degree murder.

“You and Elle…slept in the same bed the entire night, then?” Spencer nodded behind his hands. “Alright. Sure. She never got up to use the bathroom, get a drink, anything like that?” Hotch's attempts to keep up professionalism were crumbling, with Spencer looking exactly like an embarrassed teen who desperately didn't want to talk about girls with his father.

“We were occupied until roughly 11pm, and slept in the same bed the entire night. We never left the room, she never left my line of sight, please just hurry this up.” Spencer says directly into his hands, not even pretending to not be hiding from eye contact anymore.

Hotch grimaced, as much as the man ever showed weakness. “You say she never left your line of sight, rather than she never left the bed.”

“The only time we got out of bed was to take a shower and replace the sheets, but those all came in the suite. We did them all together, barely an arms length away from when I entered the hotel room to when I got into this interrogation room. We fell asleep cuddling and woke up the same way. I'm a light enough sleeper that she couldn't have moved me without drugging me, and I didn't take anything unsealed last night. ” Spencer peeked out from between his fingers, and the skin that can be seen is an impressively tomato red. “Please, Hotch.”

Hotch sighed, kneading his brow for a long moment before picking his papers up and motioning for Spencer to leave. The boy practically sprints, going straight out the door and into the viewing room with such an apologetic face Elle can almost believe they did have this night he implied, rather than the one that really happened.

"I'm really, really sorry about having to talk about this with the whole team, Elle." Spencer apologized, even as Morgan was shaking his shoulders like the kid had scored the winning play of the season.

He didn't even lie when he said we spent the whole night together, an arms length away. Elle realized incredulously, filled with exhilarated relief at the fact that they were actually going to get a way with it. We did sleep in that queen bed together, even if nothing happened.

Hotch put his head in reluctantly. "This will be brief, but for the sake of protocol..."

Elle put on her best swagger and a smile for Hotch. "Of course, boss." She blew a kiss behind her on a whim, and the team burst into another round of whispers and gossip as the door shut.

Elle reclined in the metal chair, half nervous and half amused. The look in Hotch’s eyes is so tired dad that she can fool herself into thinking this is a meet-the-parents scenario.

“Did you know he has a tattoo?" Elle said idly, picking at her cuticle. "On his hip, the left one. You'll never guess the story behind it.”

The tired look he gave her aged him ten years, and Elle laughs so hard she almost cries.

She dramatically goes over the tattoo story she heard in the car, and then proceeds to make up one of the best nights of her life, using unnecessarily raunchy detail until it's all too much. Too much in general outside of an erotic romance novel, but way too much for her boss to hear about from a coworker he has to look in the eyes. (And, the boy she can tell he's starting to consider like a son.)

Elle doesn't get arrested for murder that day. The least she can do is cover for Spencer now, when he's being blamed for a string of murders he didn't even do.

[resetmnm]

Happy Halloween! 🧙🏻‍♀️🌕

Floaty wicthy robot cow ready for October's festivities 🍬🍭🍫

[malakaie]

i hope vaughn and james stone tag again i'm so ready to be a black widow vaughn vertigo truther

[dazzelmethat]

2023 vs 2025 Mainly focusing on heads, faces, proportions in expressions for the past few weeks. I did like the old faces Renoir made in the 2023 version, so I used them as base to study the head.

All these changes are so small, but somehow change a lot..

[boundinparchment]

🤔🐌 🦖 for the ask game!

🤔 Are there any new characters you want to write about?

Depends on how 3.0 goes. I haven't felt much of anything for a lot of fictional characters (Sunday, I adore him, but I knew part of it would be fleeting because he was new for my brain).

🐌 What is one of your smallest writing goals?

Finishing Remnants. This thing was literally almost entirely written before I revamped it and I have everything just...needing to be assembled. It's small in comparison to tackling Rumors and Vertigo, where my plot is far lengthier and involved.

🦖 Are there any fandoms you wrote for in the past that you'd like to return to?

Some days, I consider writing for City of Love: Paris again. I even started a reader insert for it (based on the main character, who's a self-insert type anyway). The game left so much up in the air and it's an example of 'cool idea but terrible execution but it's Ub*soft, what should I have expected?' Same goes for Loki, for HP, for Hellsing. The thoughts are there but the motivation isn't. I don't think I ever could, really. In the same way that I wrote so much for Zhongli but don't anymore. It's not that I don't love the thing but that my love has taken a different shape, if that makes sense. Eventually, I'll be in that position with my current obsessions, too.

[butts-bouncing-on-the-beltway]

Me staring intensely at my seed cart and wondering when in the fuck it got so expensive to shove some wooden posts in the ground and staple plastic tarp sheeting to them and have yourself a fuckin green house....