#I love tumblr writers

[abreathlessplace]

"i wonder if we ever think of each other at the same time."

[whendidmythoughtsgocrazy]

Sometimes, it isn’t the one who takes your breath away, it’s the one that reminds you to breathe.

k.b. // by jennifer johnson

[letmetellyouaboutmyfeels]

I am incredibly serious right now when I beg you all, please, and if you have Twitter or Tiktok or whatever to please spread the word: click on an author's profile on Ao3.

You want to know if an author has written more? Want to know if they're still writing? Want to see more from them? Want to know if they've written a trope or kink or sex scenario you enjoy?

Click on their name. And look at their profile.

I cannot tell you how many times in the last six months someone has read a new or newer fic of mine and said they (a new reader who has read nothing else I've done) "can't wait to see what you do next!" I've written 50+ fics and over a million words already.

"I don't know if you're still writing..." click on my profile. I am. I literally wrote a 128k+ fic for that ship last month.

"Would you ever do X?" "Please do Y!" I already did. Click on my name and look at my works.

Archive of our Own is a library. It's an archive. Not social media. It is your responsibility to fight back against the laziness that corporate algorithms have trained into you.

Click my author name. Just click it. Just click it.

Before you demand more, or ask if a writer will do XYZ, or wonder if the author still writing, or anything - click on their profile. Click on the author's profile.

I'm not trying to be mean or condescending or anything like that. I'm just exhausted. It's disheartening and frustrating to repeat myself ad nauseam, because someone couldn't take thirty seconds to do the tiniest bit of work to see if I've written lately, if I've written more for their ship, or scan my works to see if I've written what they're asking for. Please. Please. I'm begging.

Click the author's name, and explore before you ask.

[cutebrittie]

😉😉

[ticklingtimetickstotest]

[sensitivesublime]

[flowercrowngods]

when ao3 is back up i want all of you to leave comments on the fics you were interrupted from reading, the fics you were looking to find, the fics you were thinking about re-reading, and the fics left open in your tabs for months now.

when ao3 is back up, i want you all to show some love to your favourite writers, favourite fics, or even just the 600 word one-shot that brought a smile to your face that tuesday three weeks ago.

when ao3 is back up i want you all to remember that comments and explicitly voiced appreciation are what keep writers going.

[mellblogss]

If you want me to stay then make me feel wanted.

[youinsideme]

[soleilsplanet]

do you ever just … picture a whole scene, a whole fanfiction in your head, you know how to place every single word of the english dictionary that you need (or your language dictionary), you know how to structure your sentences, you know just what your characters are going to say to each other and then… and then you just open microsoft word.

[gothamite-rambler]

"Who do we know that did drugs? I got it!" Batman said, calmly.

Dick Grayson and Bruce Wayne stood in the Batcave, looking over some data on the Batcomputer.

Dick: None of us have done drugs or made drugs, but we need someone who's versed in it. Who?

Bruce (excited, sudden realization): I got it! Call Jason!

Dick: He blocked you again?

Bruce looked a bit sheepish, but quickly recovered.

Bruce (defensive): You’re not calling him?!

Sighing, Dick reluctantly pulled out his phone and dialed Jason’s number. Jason answered, but before Dick can say a word, Bruce suddenly knocked him to the ground and snatched the phone from his hand.

Bruce: Are you still friends with Roy? We need to learn how crack is made. We’re tracking someone!

There’s a pause on the other end of the line. Then, Jason started laughing—slowly at first, then breaking into fits of uncontrollable laughter. In the background, a weary sigh can be heard that isn’t Jason’s.

Jason (laughing, catching his breath): I’ll ask him. Hey Roy—

Roy (in the background, exasperated): Fuck you!

Jason (chuckling, responds to Bruce): I think he can help us.

Bruce: Oh, thank God.

Dick, now back on his feet, glaring at Bruce with a mix of annoyance and disbelief.

Dick: You could’ve just asked for the phone!

Batman: Get over it.

Roy: You know I was on heroin not crack!

Batman: I will send you $6,000 if you are honest with me and tell me you at least know how it's made.

Roy (huffing as Jason laughs harder because he knows what's about to happen): Okay, you're going to need a pen.

[abreathlessplace]

"i never craved attention until i tasted yours."

[whendidmythoughtsgocrazy]

Don’t let anyone who hasn't been in your shoes tell you how to tie your laces.

k.b. // unknown

[tahbhie]

How to Stop Hating Everything You Write

1. Don't be afraid of making mistakes.

Quit judging yourself for every mistake you make along the way. Whether you're writing fiction, fanfiction, or nonfiction, just write. If you can't correct your errors as you go, that's okay. When I don't have the brainpower to multitask, I focus on the writing stage one step at a time. Just write!

2. Don't aim for perfection.

"It's not ready if it's not perfect." That's a lie. When you're in the process of writing, it's best to concentrate on getting your thoughts on paper.

3. Seek feedback and learn to receive it.

Join lively communities with active writers or forums that host events inviting writers to share their work for critique. Not every critique is constructive; learn to discern which feedback to take on board and which to ignore.

4. Read, read, read.

You can't give what you don't have. You learn a lot from reading similar pieces in your chosen genre. Reading is also a source of inspiration that fuels your writing process.

5. Cut yourself some slack.

Writing is no small feat. It takes talent to formulate a story with your mind and skill to visualize it for others to see. Do you love writing? Then keep doing it because it takes practice.

Looking for a supportive community dedicated to helping you grow as a writer? Join the Writers Universe server and thrive!

[p0nur4k]

[ervotica]

rafe with a pogue!reader that just says the most out of pocket, ridiculous shit all the time. he’s perpetually exasperated. you’re jj in female form— really, rafe doesn’t know how he ended up liking you in the first place.

this is him when he looks at u btw

you’re so unserious it actually pains him. he bends over to pick his vape up off of the sidewalk and you air-hump him from behind, with sound effects and everything; you've never seen him move faster, and you squeal when he takes your face in his hands, his brow set deep on his forehead, lips pursed. it pushes your cap halfway off of your head, mussing your already frazzled hair.

"hey, idiot. look at me," he barks, expression hardening as you giggle. you smirk, tongue in cheek.

"what?"

"what the fuck is wrong with you? like actually. you're so fucking weird," he seethes through gritted teeth, unaware of the group of pogues that watch, barely concealing their laughter; you shrug innocently, putting on your best doe eyes for your grumpy boyfriend.

"what are you talking about? i didn't do anything!"

"oh, you didn't do anything?" he parrots; it's something out of a cartoon, truly– his reddened face, pinched features. if you look closely enough, you're sure you'd see steam curling out of his ears.

"nope." you pop the p and he pushes closer to you, crowding your personal space.

"you're a little fucking freak, you know that? you need psychological help."

"yeah, that's fucking rich," you snort, patting his cheek in condescension. you bite his finger when he reaches for your face again. "quit it!" you garble around the digit.

"i can't." he throws his hands up, exasperated as he strides away. "i can't with you."

you grin, scampering after him as he paces. you're bursting at the seams with childlike amusement, skipping happily until you lace your fingers through rafe's. he grumbles something rather unsavoury but still tucks you beneath his arm, scowling as you needle your way into his side.

"gonna be the death of me, kid."