#hijacking my friend's posts

[gemmahale]

Sy, if I may tack onto this:

Anon, start by asking yourself "what would happen if [insert thing] happened?" or "how would [character] respond to [thing]?"

It'll take a bit to shake the cobwebs free (I went a decade without writing academically, believe me), but just start writing. Don't feel pressured to share, either.

Hello! I am new to the Call of Duty fandom and I have not written fanfic since 2016. How do you come up with your ideas?

where is that 'i have visions in the taco bell drive thru' post. because that's what it boils down to for me.

some prompts/storylines are based off my experiences. others emerge from the void, grab me by the shoulders, and shake me down until words fall out like loose change.

[seafoamdew]

They're fine 👍

[lesboygamzee]

could you imagine i dont even have kanaya in there . it was jut like The Prophecy

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

Not moth brain rot but a random thought that came to me while reading one of ur fics-

If, for whatever reason, a chunk of the human race develops the ability to read minds, I will be throwing myself off the edge of the earth, my friends are here getting engaged, married and having fucking kids while I'm over at the corner daydreaming about how it would feel to be hugged by Foul legacy or thinking 50 different reactions I'll get from him if I give him a bunch of kisses all over his face, like forget the fact that not only does he not exist, he ain't even human- this why tumblr is one of the hidden apps on my phone lmao 💀💀

ohhh this gave me an SAGAU idea hear me out-

you and your friends all play Genshin, having your own likes and dislikes, but you happen to absolutely ADORE Childe's Foul Legacy form which all your friends tease you about- lovingly, they swear! but still, you tend to keep your love of Foul Legacy to yourself, instead opting to listen to your friends talk about THEIR favorite characters. you keep quiet so you don't have to endure anymore teasing, and even when you're playing alone you don't allow yourself to admire Foul Legacy very much because you've been taught it's something silly

what you don't know is that Foul Legacy can hear you, and has been watching ever since you first set foot into his domain, when you had first gasped in awe over his design and voice. he's not used to being admired- Abyssal creatures are supposed to be frightening- but he soon comes to like your fawning, often listening to your happy comments instead of paying attention to his weekly boss battle. sometimes he can hear you during Phases 1 and 2, sitting cross-legged on the ground and waiting, letting out happy purrs and coos whenever you cheer in victory

but sometimes there's days you don't make any comments, days where you're just silent and going through the motions, and Foul Legacy wants nothing more than to reach out and comfort you. but he can't, he can only watch your characters stand on the far edges of the arena, your soft sigh echoing overhead as you wonder why it's so bad to like Foul Legacy, or at least why it makes you so ripe for teasing

you sit quietly, and Foul Legacy despairs that he can't do more for a presence no one else in Teyvat seems to know exists

[avocado62524]

[kattitude130]

kagepro is so fucking awesome. a guy’s OC comes to life and takes over his body cuz he died so it’s not like he’s using it anymore

[xceanlynx]

I'm getting really tired of the discourse that Ray's friends aren't responsible for their friend's actions and shouldn't have to take accountability.

I don't disagree with it. I actually pretty much agree 100%.

The thing is, you can't just pretend his illnesses (alcoholism and depression/suicidal tendencies) don't exist. You can't choose the good side of the friendship while ignoring someone's health and well being, being a fair-weather friend. If you can't put up with someone as ill as Ray (which is completely fair), DON'T BE FRIENDS WITH THEM.

Mew, Boston and Cheum do not have ANY obligation to take care of Ray and prevent him from doing shitty stuff. But FRIENDS don't just do what's obliged to them — people do stuff outside their obligation for the ones they love all the time. Of course taking care of someone like Ray isn't easy. He is an agressive, rage inducing and reckless person, a true criminal as well. So please, if you can't deal with it (again, TOTALLY FAIR! No one is expecting you sacrifice your entire life and well being for another), just end your friendship. Don't ignore all of that for the sake of the "benefits" you get from being friends.

Also, let's not forget how much of enablers they all are. Inviting him to bars basically every week? It's like inviting your severely lactose intolerant friend to a tour at the Milk, Cheese and Yogurt Factory. Mew is even worse, giving his drinks to Ray while also saying "I can't stop you anyway". No shit you can't. But you could at least not give him your shots, right?

And lastly, I cannot comprehend how huge Cheum's cognitive dissonance is. Why is it worth "saving Mew from Ray", but not saving Ray from himself? Why when Ray does drugs, it's Ray being an asshole, but when Mew does it (of his own volition), he is the damsel in distress? (and resorting to teaming up with Top!!!) Why one life is worth more than the other?

Like April said, Mew is a grown man. All scenes we've seen, he is the one asking for alcohol and cigarettes. He did drugs because he wanted to. It was MEW'S IDEA too. Let's not put all the blame on your mentally ill friend. Both of them are in the wrong here, Ray is being an enabler same as all of them, but let's not be hypocritical and forget Mew has agency just as Ray does (maybe even more since we know Ray is ill).

So let's stop pretending Boston, Mew and Cheum did nothing wrong/did their best. They absolutely did not.

And I do understand. I had and still have people around me suffering with addiction and being SHIT to everyone around them. But at one point we've got to make a choice: either you help them or you leave them. It's tougher than it sounds, but newsflash: that is life, and life is hard.

[millionsknives]

on the heels of all that stuff i said about how generally katniss's relationships with the men in her life are very fraught i can't help but notice that the only meaningful relationships that finnick has are with women. let us not think about why this might be the case :|

[jackshiccup]

baking cookies who wants some

[mangoob]

I’m a wonderful boyfriend

[mimi-cee-genshin]

Huh... It would be interesting to place Heizou in Fontaine. Hmmm...

[still-a-dreamer-even-now]

she wants to understand, she tried to understand, she begs them to tell her what happened to them in the country and they all look at each other having a silent conversation she will never understand and edmund makes a joke that doesn’t quite ring true about their time and she wonders once again when her younger son became a diplomat and her children became a parliament

“the war changed them” she says to anyone that knew them before “i hardly know them myself anymore”

and she says it with false laughter and haunted eyes and a heavy sense that she has missed something crucial and the people that knew them don’t quite get it, “they’re growing up” they say “war changed everyone” but helen pevensie has never seen children who eyes tell her they’ve truly, really lived entire lifetimes at 15

i helen is so terrified her kids grew up without her while still being so young like they lost their childhood it was robbed from them but in reality their childhood was rich and wonderful and lovely and lively and yes even magical and they grew up at a normal rate and then were forced to live through that growing up again in a world less beautiful and she’s afraid they missed their childhood but really truly it was she who missed it

because every time they’ve started trying to explain it to sit her down and tell her, every time she frustratedly throws down a rag while washing the dishes and begs peter to act his age in a way most kids will never hear it said (be a kid!! for goodness sake be a kid, peter!!) and he opens his mouth to speak and then closes it again and shakes his head with such a noble tilt and tells her not to worry and that he’s fine and that’s he’s nearly old enough to worry about adult matters now anyhow

because how do you explain to your mother that you’re not really a child (i’ve grown so much in your absence mother) without sounding like you didn’t need her, without sounding like you’re telling a story or a joke instead of the truth (i wish i could show you our palace, our friends) and how do you tell your mother you learned swordsmanship from a mouse, or learned diplomacy from a centaur, that the trees taught you to waltz, you like your tea that way because of a dear old faun, won’t she think you’re playing? joking, teasing her relentlessly? isn’t it easier for her to think you’ve grown than for her to be so concerned that you’re still so childish? and wouldn’t it be wonderful if she would just believe you? but you know she won’t, so you sit silently at the table and hum a lullaby to yourself in a language you wish you could teach her and wonder if a lifetime apart is too long to get to know someone again

you have invited strangers into your home, helen pevensie, mother of four.

without the blurred sight of joy and relief, it has become impossible to ignore. all the love inside you cannot keep you from seeing the truth. your children are strangers to you. the country has seen them grow taller, your youngest daughter’s hair much longer than you would have it all years past. their hands have more strength in them, their voices ring with an odd lilt and their eyes—it has become hard to look at them straight on, hasn’t it? your children have changed, helen, and as much as you knew they would grow a little in the time away from you, your children have become strangers.

your youngest sings songs you do not know in a language that makes your chest twist in odd ways. you watch her dance in floating steps, bare feet barely touching the dewy grass. when you try and make her wear her sister’s old shoes—growing out of her own faster than you think she ought to—, she looks at you as though you are the child instead of her. her fingers brush leaves with tenderness, and you swear your daughter’s gentle hum makes the drooping plant stand taller than before. you follow her eager leaps to her siblings, her enthusiasm the only thing you still recognise from before the country. yet, she laughs strangely, no longer the giggling girl she used to be but free in a way you have never seen. her smile can drop so fast now, her now-old eyes can turn distant and glassy, and her tears, now rarer, are always silent. it scares you to wonder what robbed her of the heaving sobs a child ought to make use of in the face of upset.

your other daughter—older than your youngest yet still at an age that she cannot be anything but a child—smiles with all the knowledge in the world sitting in the corner of her mouth. her voice is even, without all traces of the desperate importance her peers carry still, that she used to fill her siblings’ ears with at all hours of the day. she folds her hands in her lap with patience and soothes the ache of war in your mind before you even realise she has started speaking. you watch her curl her hair with careful, steady fingers and a straight back, her words a melody as she tells your eldest which move to make without so much a glance at the board off to her right. she reads still, and what a relief you find this sliver of normalcy, even if she’s started taking notes in a shorthand you couldn’t even think to decipher. even if you feel her slipping away, now more like one of the young, confident women in town than a child desperately wishing for a mother’s approval.

your younger son reads plenty as well these days, and it fills you with pride. he is quiet now, sitting still when you find him bent over a book in the armchair of his father. he looks at you with eyes too knowing for a petulant child on the cusp of puberty, and no longer beats his fists against the furniture when one of his siblings dares approach him. he has settled, you realise one evening when you walk into the living room and find him writing in a looping script you don’t recognise, so different from the scratched signature he carved into the doors of your pantry barely a year ago. he speaks sense to your youngest and eldest, respects their contributions without jest. you watch your two middle children pass a book back and forth, each a pen in hand and sheets of paper bridging the gap between them, his face opening up with a smile rather than a scowl. it freezes you mid-step to find such simple joy in him. remember when you sent them away, helen, and how long it had been since he allowed you to see a smile then?

your eldest doesn’t sleep anymore. none of your children care much for bedtimes these days, but at least sleep still finds them. it’s not restful, you know it from the startled yelps that fill the house each night, but they sleep. your eldest makes sure of it. you have not slept through a night since the war began, so it’s easy to discover the way he wanders the halls like a ghost, silent and persistent in a duty he carries with pride. each door is opened, your children soothed before you can even think to make your own way to their beds. his voice sounds deeper than it used to, deeper still than you think possible for a child his age and size. then again, you are never sure if the notches on his door frame are an accurate way to measure whatever it is that makes you feel like your eldest has grown beyond your reach. you watch him open doors, soothe your children, spend his nights in the kitchen, his hands wrapped around a cup of tea with a weariness not even the war should bring to him, not after all the effort you put into keeping him safe.

your children mostly talk to each other now, in a whispered privacy you cannot hope to be a part of. their arms no longer fit around your waist. your daughters are wilder—even your older one, as she carries herself like royalty, has grown teeth too sharp for polite society— and they no longer lean into your hands. your sons are broad-shouldered even before their shirts start being too small again, filling up space you never thought was up for taking. your eldest doesn’t sleep, your middle children take notes when politicians speak on the wireless and shake their heads as though they know better, and your youngest sings for hours in your garden.

who are your children now, helen pevensie, and who pried their childhood out of your shaking hands?

[xceanlynx]

This gotta be the last time I'm talking about it.

In my humble opinion, the "Boston is/isn't being punished by the narrative for being promiscuous" discourse here on tumblr/twitter/tiktok is starting to boil down to if you believe the producers intended for us to feel pity/sympathize with Boston or not - which is just a more convoluted way to say authorial intent vs. death of the author, i.e. a never-ending discourse. Let me try to explain my train of thought:

I, for one, prefer death of the author. To me, it doesn't matter if authors had a certain intention or not: if it wasn't 100% crystal clear, any grounded (as in with evidence) interpretation is just as valid as the original intent. Once the story is public, it is ours to interpret.

This is how I choose to interpret media, that's the way I think makes more sense to my beliefs. There is no "wrong" way to do it. If someone thinks the authors opinions and intentions matters when interpreting, that's fine, that's just not the way I and other people prefer to do it.

So when it comes to Boston's development and narrative, to ***me*** (gotta be very clear again), it doesn't matter if the authors wanted us to sympathize with him. It equally does not matter if they hated Boston and wanted us to despise him. It does not matter what they wanted to do. To me, what matters is the media they put in front of us.

And, to ***me*** and many others in the audience, there was a harsher punishment for him based solely in his sexual habits. I'm sure you can find the think pieces and evidence in many posts here on Tumblr, but I'll give you my main 3 points (and 1 side point).

You can skip them if you're as tired as I am:

Boston's friends constantly judging him by his sex behaviors - while the other presumed slut Top (I say presumed because, other than Boston - arguably, since Top was practically coerced by him - he never showed interest in people other than Mew) was given praise since he wanted monogamy now;

Boston was recorded non consensually twice + having said recordings spread by others (even being threatened to have his recording shown to his presumed homophobic father);

Atom falsely accusing him of sexual assault because he didn't want a relationship with him. Side note: this one gets me the most because some people use this storyline to justify the "narrative wanting us to sympathize with him" opinion. Look, I'm sorry, but if they wanted us to do that, Boston would have had no consequences for his false assault, and Atom would have for his false claim. Instead, we got Boston choosing to not graduate (a punishment first inflicted on him by his friends for his, I repeat, false accusation of a crime) and Atom confessing his own crime to his sister and receiving a "oh, you did bad but I'm proud you're out now" as a response. We got absolutely no catharsis from this storyline;

Boston is the only character to have an absolutely miserable final scene. Yeah, it was Nick's final scene too but he wasn't miserable, he was free from that really toxic dynamic. The only promiscuous character is the only one to get absolutely nothing by the end - as in visual media, what we actually saw with our eyes. I know he is most definitely better in NY, but we never got to see it. The classic show, don't tell wasn't used (and with a miserable ending scene like that, we needed to be shown, not just told by other characters that he is doing good);

Actually, scratch that: Boston wasn't the only one shown pursuing multiple people at the same time unapologetically. Do you know who the other one is? Boeing, a non character, plot device of a villain that also got a bad ending. Do y'all see my point?

This is what I got from his character development. This is what was shown to us, Boston being constantly berated within the narrative by the fact that he is a slut. In these points I did give my personal opinions, but the core of it was based on actual scenes from the series. Don't get me wrong, I believe there was a way for the narrative to simply portray him as a villain - if they focused more on the betrayal aspect of topboston car night than on the broad aspect of Boston sleeping around. But they didn't do it. They chose a language that in the real world would be slutshamey without a doubt.

And don't fool yourself, there is real slutshaming happening in this fandom. It may be directed at a fictional character, but the behaviors criticized are real. Real people can be slutty like Boston, and they should not face criticism because of this. Wanna hate on Boston? Please hate him for being a shitty friend, or for sleeping with Top, or because he lied to Nick. Not because he sleeps around.

I still don't know the crew's intention with his character, and I don't claim to know. I do have opinions on what the directors/writers/cast actually think of a character like Boston, but again, it does not matter when it comes to us as audience and what we think of it.

Am I saying this way of ignoring the intention of the authors is the correct way? NO. I just urge you to remember that we do not have all the information on the intentions of the crew. Actually, we have more evidence of them simplifying Boston's character as just a "slutty villain" (eg. Jojo's comment in a podcast - I believe it was the LoveCast? Don't quote me) than we have evidence of them wanting us to sympathize with him. Am I saying that this is what they had in mind while producing the series? NO. And even if it was, IT DOES NOT MATTER what they had in their heads. What matters is the finished product, and the finishing product, to me and many others, was a slutshamey narrative.

You can still have your opinion, disagree and all with whatever I said here. You aren't inherently wrong for thinking the authors had the intent to make us sympathize with Boston, as I said, we don't have access to their original thoughts. What I do not think it's cool is that there are people simply dismissing valid criticism, calling them absolutely wrong, as if the very skill of interpretation is static and monochrome. If everyone understood that, I guarantee there would be way fewer condescending posts here on Tumblr, on Twitter and Tiktok.

That's it. I'm done talking, this will be my last post about it. I doubt anyone will change my mind on this, especially the last paragraph part, but feel free to share your opinion.

[avaantares]

Yet another AO3 bot situation - please spread the word!

Hi, it's me again, the person who wrote that viral post about fanfiction plagiarism! Today I'm here to warn you about abuse perpetrated by bots who have stolen AO3 usernames.

There's currently an epidemic of bots going around leaving (apparently random) horrible, hateful comments on people's fics. This isn't the first time bots have invaded AO3, but the big problem with this wave is that they're using real AO3 usernames to do it.

I learned about this when another writer contacted me after receiving the following comment on their story:

Now, while that is my username, I DEFINITELY did not leave this comment (and anyone who would leave something like that on a fic should be slapped! What an awful thing to post). This fic is in a completely unrelated fandom that I have never participated in, nor has that author participated in any of my fandoms, so the probability of it being some intentional fandom drama thing to make me look bad is also low.

The writer whose fic the comment was left on enlisted the aid of some friends and tracked down other guest comments with unrelated usernames attached, which is pretty strong evidence that they are being left by bots at random.

The TL;DR: If you receive a cruel comment from a (Guest) with an actual AO3 username attached, it's most likely from a bot. Please do not lash out at or dogpile the AO3 user who owns that name, and who in all likelihood has no idea that their name has been hijacked for evil.

If finding this kind of comment on a fic, even left by a bot, is likely to upset you, I would recommend changing your comment settings so that only users who are logged in can leave comments. To do this, edit your story settings, and under "Privacy," select the radio button that says "Only registered users can comment," as shown below.

Please spread the word to other AO3 users! And if you see mean guest comments on other fics, maybe let the author know that it's probably from a bot and not a real person who thinks their writing is bad.

[doctor-who-war-doctor]

Dahlia: Sorry it took me so long to bail you out of jail.

Gabo: No, it was my fault. I shouldn't have used my one phone call to play a prank on Dario.

[akindofchaos]

Yes but also not in a bad way because I got good parents, but I question what is really me and what is just the stuff I stole from the people around me just to fit in...

recognising your parent's mannerisms in yourself and physically feeling psychic damage occur